Hermione looked up from her Painkiller's essay and Standard Potions textbook to see Harry leaning over the table. "Sorry, what?" She asked, realizing that he had asked her a question.

"Who are you going to the Yule Ball with?" Hermione's mouth fell open. She hadn't spoken to Harry since Hagrid's cabin and wasn't sure that she would have chosen this to be their first conversation. "Are you going with Krum?" Harry persisted.

"No." Hermione looked down. "I sent him a letter about three months ago, ending it." She tried not to watch shock and betrayal flit over his face again as he realized again how much she had concealed from him in the last months. He must be wondering what I else I haven't told him, Hermione fretted. But Krum hadn't told anyone about the break up and so, neither had she. That seemed only fair.

Especially as she didn't understand why Krum hadn't told. The gossip that had started with Rita Skeeter's scandalous article had stopped about a year and a half ago but there were always mutterings whenever Krum was seen, alone, at public events. He had kept the label "cradle-robber" and Hermione had no doubt that news of the break would only have helped. Thinking intelligently, she realized that Krum had been too quiet and was about to begin musing about his intentions when she happened to look up and see Harry. Frankly she was surprised that he was still there.

Realizing that he had her attention once more, and glad he was still fit to judge that after years of watching Hermione's deep in thought waking comas, Harry spoke. "I want to help, Hermione."

She grabbed her books up off the table, forgetting to use magic in her anger. The scroll was still wet and it smudged. Hermione winced, knowing that the spell to fix that was painstaking and slow. Harry grabbed her hand.

"What can you do?" She snapped at him and pulled away. "Tell Ron that no one will be asking me this year so he can take his sweet time?"

Harry ignored the provocation, and leaned in. "I can take you to the ball. That way he knows and he won't get jealous and you can still get dressed up and look beautiful… for him."

Hermione grimaced. She knew that he was right. She wanted to go to the ball, but Draco was not a possibility in the date department. Krum neither. Harry was the only one she could be sure things would stay "just friends" with.

Draco took the news fairly well. She blurted it all out in another 500 mile-a-minute monologue which he answered with a stoic nod. "I suppose people would wonder why you didn't have a date." Hermione reached out to him, to hold him, but he pulled away. It hurt her but she understood that she had just hurt him far more.

Up in the dormitory, the girls were thrilled that she'd gotten over her heartache. "We're all going to buy dresses for each other! It'll be so much fun! You must join in!" They clawed at her arms and squeezed her, fluttering and chirping around in the manner of sixteen-year-old girls. Sometimes, Hermione wondered what it would have been like if she hadn't made friends with Harry and Ron. She supposed the girls would have eventually adopted her and made a project of her. Would it have changed her, to be happy and carefree? What would it be like if she didn't learn with a passion and have a determination to scour the school library, and any other she could access, for spells: spells to defeat those who Death has a grip on. Spells to defeat Voldemort.

But she wasn't like them, and she shook her head at their kind foolishness and quietly approached Parvati. "Can you help me find a dress for Lavendar? I don't want her to go in something horrid and I couldn't even guess her size!" Parvati looked flattered and hugged the bookworm.

"Of course!" Hermione smiled and returned the hug. It was different, she concluded, but nice to have girlfriends.

A week later when Parvati showed Hermione the robes she had found for Lavendar, the girl gaped. They were gorgeous. Parvati had outdone herself: the baby pink would suit Lavendar's glossy brown hair perfectly and she silky sheen of the dress was alluring, even to sensible Hermione. When Lavendar saw it she squealed and immediately tried it on, the girls watching as it slipped down in one fluid movement and even Hermione's mouth curved into a small "o" at how well it accentuated her thin form. Lavendar, after a moment of admiring, threw her arms around Hermione, who gasped but happily. She felt oddly included; odd in that for once she didn't feel that the inclusion was deliberate and orchestrated.

Her comfort changed to shock when she saw her dress. In a daring shade of reddish burgundy, it was certainly the most revealing thing she'd ever owned. The underdress was strapless and formfitting (with the aid of a few flicks of Parvati's wand to make it lie perfectly), and it flared out on the underside of her hips into rippling folds that enchanted Hermione as she spun that she forgot about the overrobe until the girls pulled her away from the mirror, laughing kindly, and pulled her arms into the gold and burgundy net, feeding her hands through the swallow tailed wrists and clipping it delicately at the base of her throat, letting it sweep out from their. They backed away as a group, leaving Hermione feeling oddly helpless in front of the mirror.

Thank you, she breathed. The color brought out tanned tones in her skin and red ones in her hair. She saw an hourglass figure that she had never even noticed, but apparently Parvati had. The girls once again pulled her away from the mirrors and smiled indulgently as she hugged each of them in turn. An hour later they were less accommodating as they found her curled up in her bed behind the curtains with a book. Dragging her out, they quickly pressed the creases out of her dress with several spells and shoved her into a chair. She was forced to sit patiently as Parvati straightened her hair and fastened little golden butterflies into it and Lavendar brushed eye shadow over her eyelids and tucked a dark red lipstick into the girl's purse. When they gave her back her book as a bribe while Parvati finished the last touches on her hair, Hermione had caught the excitement so badly that even she couldn't read.

Feeling slightly giddy, she stole a last glance at her reflection before going down to meet Harry. A stranger smiled back. This must be the girl Draco saw, she concluded. This was her. And, beautiful as her reflection was, she found herself hurrying down the stairs in the back of an informal hierarchy of seventh year girls, impatient to see Draco. And for him to see her.

When she met Harry at the bottom of the stairs, she managed to distractedly note that he looked quite handsome in his dark green robes. Guiltily she remembered that he shouldn't be going with her. He should be going with Cho. Hermione bit her lip as she thought of Cho, sitting alone in her dormitory tonight, praying for Cedric as she had every year since he died. But that's not what she should be thinking of, she told herself, not tonight. Cedric wouldn't have wanted that.

Then she realized that she had paused, deep in thought, on the last step. Heads were turned towards her and some looked almost as surprised as they had in fourth year. Parvati was happily basking in the glory of quickly spreading praise at the transformation and Hermione found herself feeling unpleasantly like a doll that the girls had dressed up. She wanted desperately to get to Draco, and took Harry's arm insistently. He smiled, "You look beautiful."

For a fleeting instant, Hermione felt sure that Harry was looking at her in the same way Draco did when he was lying over her, ready to kiss her, teasing her by making her wait for it. She wasn't sure if even Harry could keep it just friends, and the thought of being some pretty doll made her purse her lips in distaste. She looked away from Harry, and her gaze fell on Ron. He was standing there, with Lavendar talking to him, but he was looking at her. She blushed under his stare and offered a shaky smile. He smiled back and looks down at his date. Hermione stepped backwards slightly, wishing that she could even say hello to Ron. Instead she turned back to Harry, who's eyes were purely platonic once again, and he lead her down into the Hall.

The Hall was truly stunning. Christmas trees lined the walls, decked in house colors: a Hufflepuff tree flanked by a tree adorned with lions and red and gold banners on one side, and one resplendent in green and silver bows and silver snakes twining around the branches, their scales throwing the light onto the Ravenclaw tree where birds carefully dodged and pecked at the shining light as though it were magic itself. Hermione's eyes followed the alternating Houses all the way around the Hall but found herself looking less for lions yawning majestically, or birds preening, but for a certain white gold head.

When she finally turned back to Harry, slightly disappointed, she looked past him and inhaled sharply. A dark haired man, older than the students, was approaching with his head down but a walk too distinctive for Hermione to mistake. The turned heads and murmurs that followed him were another hint.

"Viktor!" He looked up from his slouch and smiled.

"Hi, Hermowninny."

"I didn't… I had no… I didn't think you'd come." Hermione winced at the pathetic sound of her own words.

"I vonted to see you. I had to see you. You're beautivul." Hermione blushed as Krum's eyes scanned her, very aware that he was twenty-one years old and could have had a million and one girlfriends instead of you. "Can ve talk?"

Hermione opened her mouth then changed her mind. She supposed that she owed Krum that much and turned to Harry, feeling a little as though she were neglecting him already. "Do you mind? I kind of have to."

Harry smiled, not seeming offended in the least. "No problem." He offered Krum a grin too, and they shook hands before Krum lead Hermione from the hall. She found herself glancing around in the hope of seeing a flash of blond hair, but found herself sitting on a bench outside before she could see much of anything.

"You are vell?" Krum asked cordially. Hermione nodded, plastering a smile on her face. "Good… I got your letter." He looked down.

"Yeah." Hermione genuinely couldn't think of anything to say.

Krum reached into his pocket and pulled out her letter, still in the original envelope. He pulled it out and opened it. The creases in the parchment were beginning to fray, betraying many foldings and unfoldings, and countless readings. "Vere you sure?" Hermione nodded resolutely. "Herm-own-ie" He made an extraordinary attempt to say her name correctly. "Please. Think again. Vonce more. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Viktor. I'm sorry."

"Vhy? Hermowninny, vhy?" He grabbed her arm and she winced slightly as the gold threat cut into her arm.

"We're two different. You're twenty-one for Merlin's sake." Hermione genuinely tried to make it sound as though it weren't him, and especially weren't anyone else, and also not to show him that his grip hurt.

"You didn't mind two vears ago." Hermione shook her head and looked away. He reached over and pulled her chin back to him, looking her in the eyes through his bushy eyebrows. After Ron's angry kiss, this one was almost romantic. Krum wasn't angry with her, only sad and desperate to win her back. But even feeling that, Hermione could respond. She could see Draco's face and then Rita Skeeter's article from Fourth Year flashed in her mind. "Harry Potter's Secret Heartache… A plain but ambitious girl… She's really ugly but quite brainy… she'd be up to making a love potion. I think that's how she's doing it. … A plain but ambitious girl… really ugly…" Even the memory made Hermione pull away.

Krum watched her from his slitted eyes. "You like somevon else?" He asked.

Hermione's new contempt for lying after the Harry fiasco made her nod. At least, she comforted herself, he wasn't asking who. Krum nodded back. She felt terrible, he looked terrible. Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek and hugged him. Awkwardly he wrapped his arms around her too. "Come on, it's cold out here. Why don't you come inside?"

Krum nodded again, like a lost little boy, and took her hand so she could lead him back in. When they reached the door he pulled her back. "Hermowninny…"

"Yes?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." Krum walked with her back into the Hall. When they were within fifteen feet of Harry he pulled away and walked off without another good-bye. Hermione looked back at him, concerned until someone ran headlong into her.

Only her assailant's quick reflexes saved her. She looked up at Ron Weasley, the last person she could talk to. He looked terrified and began to stutter incoherently. "Hi, Ron." Hermione forced herself to smile at him, and he returned the gesture shakily, belatedly remembering to take his hands away from her waist. "We haven't talked much lately."

"No." He still stared at her.

"How've you been?" Hermione wasn't sure what to say to him, when they hadn't spoken in several months. The question was awkward, but she did want to know.

"Alright. You?"

"Alright." The two exchanged another round of shaky smiling.

"You… you look really beautiful." His tone was so hesitant that Hermione knew he was worried about whether he was allowed to say that. Maybe he did have the emotional range of something larger than a teaspoon…

"Thank yu."

He smiled again as a new, slow, song was struck up, looking at her assessingly. "Do you want to dance?"

"What about Lavendar?" Hermione didn't want to hurt her new friend's feelings… or Ron's.

"She's gone to fix her make-up, again." Hermione tried to hide a laugh but didn't succeed. Ron joined her.

"Harry might—"

"Please dance with me." He cut her off as politely as possible and the please made it churlish to refuse, so Hermione reluctantly took his hand.

The evening was fun, more fun than Hermione would have expected. She couldn't find Draco, but she danced with all the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw boys in her year and a few from Hufflepuff and other years. On one "breather" she glanced over at the Slytherin table and finally caught a glimpse of Draco.

He had elected to go alone and sat with the remnants of his House, not talking and not being talked to. Hermione couldn't take her eyes from him. She absorbed his deep midnight robes, the open neck of his shirt that showed his strong neck and a hint of the many muscles she knew covered his chest. The entire ensemble calculatedly accented his icy hotness and Hermione couldn't help but be entranced. He looked back at her and smiled slightly, raising his eyebrows and sauntering through an arch that lead towards the kichens.

Excusing herself, murmuring about fresh air, stretching her legs, and walking in the cool, Hermione followed him. He was waiting just beyond the arch. Hermione stopped and turned for a second and they just looked at each other. His eyes roved her body, taking in the dress and lingering on the skin that lay bare above it.

"I only wish you wore it for me." Draco said finally, unable to keep the rueful edge out of his voice.

Hermione grinned, and took one of his hands to stroke his fingers. "I did wear it for you, silly. You've just been hiding all night so I couldn't show you. And I don't care what anyone else thinks, so long as you like it."

"You should care what they think, Hermione." He cupped her face in his hands. "Because they all agree with me." He leaned in and kissed her softly. His fingers edged towards her hair as hers twined themselves in his sleek blond locks. When he touched her hair, Hermione pulled back. "They'll know."

Draco said nothing, waiting for her. After only a second, a smile broke across her face. "Who cares?" She leaned in and kissed him again. He hesitated only a second before turning them around so he could press her against the wall.

"Dance with me."

"What?" Hermione pushed him away slightly. His face was buried in her neck and she could have misheard him.

"You heard. Dance with me."

Hermione forced the air out of her lungs. "We can't, Draco. You know that."

"Who cares?" He murmured into his collarbone, knowing that his kisses were clouding her mind and his good judgment had disappeared months back when he realized that he loved her. "Voldemort…" She managed.

"Who's going to tell him?" Draco leaned back and smiled recklessly. "You think that he's got a spy here? He isn't watching Hogwarts. He isn't watching me. He doesn't expect this. He would never expect me to be in love with you."

Although her heart soared as his voice lingered on the word love, Hermione forced herself to squeeze his hand and say, "We can't risk it, Draco. I don't want to even risk him finding out."

"Do you remember when you wanted to tell Hagrid? You said, "Just tell me if you want to be together… that's all I need to know." It's the same thing now. Do you want to be together?"

"You do know how to throw my words back at me, don't you?" Hermione laughed.

He grinned back devilishly and kissed her cheek. "Well you're always right aren't you? Who better to quote?"

"Hmmm." Hermione said skeptically as she wiped lipstick off his lips and he licked it off her chin, neck and collarbone. Hermione giggled helplessly until he pulled away and smiled at her. She reapplied Lavendar's lipstick quick;y, laughing to herself: what would Lavendar say if she knew what the goody two shoes had been up to?

Draco took Hermione's hand and lead her back into the Hall. No one turned to look, there were no screams, curses, gasps or fireworks. It felt oddly anticlimactic, but Hermione couldn't help looking around and wondering when someone would notice. And if that person's notice would be as fatal as she feared. But even with that thought, Hermione pulled Draco to a stop by her chair. With deliberately slow speed she slipped the gold overrobe from her shoulders and down her back. Draco stared at her, obviously pleased. She turned back to him, and a slow song began to play. He took her hand and led her to the middle of the floor.

Draco turned Hermione around in a circle, smiling proudly, before pulling her snugly against him. Having her that close against him, in public, completely openly, felt better than he'd imagined. He couldn't help but grin at finally being able to declare to the world that she was his, to run his fingers up and down her forearms and feel her shiver against him. He let his fingers run along her bare back, under her hair, and up and down her spine. He felt her sigh. Perfect.

There… a nice long chapter. Sorry no Harry-Hula, though I got a good laugh out of that review! I want to see the Jesse Mccartney/Tom Felton crossover boy too, that sounds gorgeous. Ron's reaction up next… Ron and the rest of Hogwarts. Should be interesting! Thanks for the reviews, please don't stop! I'm greedy!