Disclaimer: Bah.

A/N: Hiiiiiii!!!!! Slavemaster Meg hath returned!!!! Duh. I have to stop saying that every single time I write a chapter ... lol yeah anyway, THIS IS THE CHAPTER OF THE BALL!!!!!!!! The ball the ball the ball the ball the baaaallllllll ... dances around the room sings merrily :D Hehehe! Okay, read on, my loves!!

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"There! You're done! Now you can go help Ron get ready, okay?" exclaimed Professor Brightflame, clapping her hands delightedly. Hermione nodded and walked over to the mirror. She felt a thrill of wonder pass through her as she took in the costume the three DADA professors had helped her create.

The entire costume was black, with some silver buckles and chains attached in various places. She wore a low-cut top that reminded her of a corset, but not quite as tight as one, and black netting covered her arms from the shoulders down. Leather gloves came up almost to her elbows on both sides, with holes at the tips of each finger to allow her long, silver claws to extend through. Netting emerged at the bottom of the corset-like shirt as well, just covering her stomach. A low-rising black skirt fell to her ankles, loose and long. She couldn't find another word to describe it but flow-y, and it enabled her to move freely. Leather boots rose up her shins to just below her knees, and a choker adorned her neck. A small silver 'C' hung from it.

She wore a small black leather mask that covered her nose and the tops of her cheeks, circling her eyes, which were very defined with eyeliner. Her black, velvety ears rose up through her hair. The four of them had taken forever to straighten it, using more than liberal amounts of Sleekeasy potion. Now it hung longer than it had before, without curls to bounce it up. It fell in straight, brown layers reaching past her shoulders but not far down her back, and when she tossed her head slightly, it did a flippy thing that amused Hermione to no end.

She also had a long, velvety black tail extending from the base of her spine. She particularly loved that part of the costume. It flicked back and forth seemingly of its own accord, and actually helped her keep her balance somewhat.

"Thank you so much for helping me with all this, it looks fantastic!" she said earnestly, and the professors smiled.

"No problem. I bet Harry's bored out of his mind in that closet, though, so shoo!" Moonshine winked, and Hermione laughed good-naturedly.

"Okay, okay. Tell him I'll see him at the ball. Thanks again!" she said, and left the room.

Once she'd made her way back to the Gryffindor common room without managing to be seen, Hermione jumped about a foot in the air when Ron nearly fell over his own feet coming down the stairs from his dormitory. She literally dove onto the couch facing the fire so that her friend couldn't see her, but he'd already looked up. "Uh ... hello?" he asked uncertainly. Hermione grinned to herself – he couldn't tell who she was. Excellent; her costume had been effective.

"Who's there?" Ron asked. She stifled a laugh.

"It's me, go back upstairs! I don't want you seeing my costume!"

"Hermione?"

"Yes, you dolt, now shut your eyes!"

"I'll just see it later anyways, what's the big deal? It's just a costume."

"But I want it to be secret so nobody will be able to tell who I am, okay?!" she growled, pressing herself down into the couch so that he couldn't see overtop of it and catch a glimpse of her outfit.

"Okay, okay. I just wanted help with my costume," Ron grumbled, and went back upstairs. Hermione shook her head, made sure nobody else was coming, and hurried up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, heading for the sixth-year ones. Once there, she grabbed a bathrobe that had been hanging on a hook behind the bathroom door. It was about ten sizes too big for her, but it fit comfortably overtop of her whole costume, and it had a hood. She pulled it on, tied it, and drew the hood all the way over her face. She made sure nothing from her feet to her hair could be seen, then made her way down to the common room.

Ron had just come back out. He turned around. "Uh ... Hermione, that you?"

"Yes. Don't even think about trying to take this off, it's covering my costume. Did you want help with yours, or not?" she asked, and Ron, biting his lip to suppress laughter, nodded, and they both went up into his sixth-year boys' dormitory.

Over the next long while, Hermione (still clad in her gigantic bathrobe and covering her eyes (which were amber-coloured and had slitted, catlike pupils) and straight, layered hair) helped Ron get fully ready and into his costume. She performed the long-white-hair-and-beard charm on him, which amused them both. He made her leave the room while he changed into his Dumbledore-esque robes, and when he yelled for her to come back in, she applauded his choice. They were a deep purple with a variety of gold stars, moons and planets embroidered into the fabric.

Hermione fussed about with his hair for about forty-five minutes, trying to get it curly and messy and teased enough to look like Dumbledore's, but not to look like it had been planned that way. Needless to say, Ron got fed up with her multiple times. During each, Hermione snapped crossly, "Do you want my help or not?" and Ron would reluctantly subdue.

They encountered a problem when Hermione told Ron that his eyes had to twinkle.

"What are you talking about, Hermione? Twinkles don't just come!"

"Well you'd better hope they do, or I'll shine my wand constantly into your face so that your eyes will water and always twinkle, got it?" she growled. Ron made a face at her.

"What do you expect me to do about it? I can't just point my wand and say Twinkus Eyesus, you know!"

"'Twinkus eyesus'?"

"Or whatever! The point is I can't just make my eyes twinkle, so normal will have to do! It's my costume, not yours, anyway! Why are you obsessing?"

"They will twinkle! And I will win! Or, you'll win, and I'll take the credit for it!"

"Hermione, no offense, but you've gone mental." This earned him a whack over the head from her. "What we need is some sort of spell ..."

"A spell to shine light in your eyes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Arrggh..."

"You can grumble all you want, but your eyes WILL twinkle once I'm through with you, Ronald Weasley!"

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Hermione sent Ron in ahead of her so that she could come in anonymously later. She hurried back up to her dormitory after seeing Ron into the Great Hall (still in her bathrobe), took off the bathrobe, and slipped back down. She entered unnoticed, the way she'd planned. Most of the school population was already there, admiring costumes and trying to figure out who was who. Professor McGonagall was dressed as a Victorian witch, complete with sunhat, lacy dress, hoop skirt and a parasol.

Dumbledore had come as a Muggle banker, complete with clean-cut pinstripe suit and tie, briefcase in hand. The only thing out of place on him was his shoes – they were clown shoes, bright red and made of plastic. Obviously he'd wanted to stand out a bit, or someone had decided to play a practical joke. The other teachers had come as various things from a house-elf (Professor Flitwick) to a Dementor (Professor Sinistra) (more than a few of the younger students warily avoided her).

The decorations were splendid, ranging from live bats to floating jack-o-lanterns to drapes hanging from every possible space on the walls. Cobwebs hung from just about everywhere as well. The walls were lined with poufs and deep, comfy chairs and pillow piles to accommodate those who would choose not to dance later. When Hermione came in, there were small tables scattered all over the floor, each with about ten chairs around them and place settings at each chair. The Halloween feast would soon begin.

She looked around for Ron, and spotted him over by a small group of others who she assumed to be Harry, Seamus and Dean. When she'd made her way over to them, they all looked up. Two of them – she couldn't immediately tell whom – whistled.

"Me-ow! How you doin'?" said a football player from under his helmet. He looked her boldly up and down and nodded his head in lecherous approval.

"Hey, kittie cat! How about we share a bowl of cream?" said the other whistler, dressed up as Dracula. Hermione could now tell who each was – Dean was the football player, and Seamus was Dracula. It was painfully obvious that neither of them knew who she was underneath the mask and costume, however. They were both still checking her out, while Ron and a solid, non-transparent Nearly Headless Nick (Neville) gaped openly at her.

Harry was not there.

Regardless, Hermione narrowed her catlike amber eyes at Seamus and Dean and lifted one carefully sculpted eyebrow (courtesy of professor Brightflame). "You two are prime examples of why girls become lesbians," she said dryly, and whacked them both over their heads. Ron laughed at the stinging put-down she had delivered, and then peered closely at her.

"Hermione? That's a ... new look for you," he stammered slowly, eyebrows threatening to disappear into his hair.

"Shut your mouth," she said crossly, suddenly feeling very self-conscious in her revealing costume. "Come on, let's get a table."

Neville wouldn't stop staring at her, and stood up when Ron did to follow her. Seamus and Dean rose as well, seemingly stunned by the fact that it was Hermione-the-know-it-all-bookworm in the sexy catgirl outfit. She rolled her eyes at all of them and made her way over to an unoccupied table, the four boys following at her heels. She tried not to notice the eyes flicking her way as she passed by; it both amused and bothered her. It was certainly a different experience.

She spotted Ginny in the crowd, dressed as Xena the Warrior Princess (where she learned who that was, Hermione would never know), and waved her over. Ginny brought three of her fifth-year friends with her and they all sat down, chatting eagerly and admiring Hermione's costume excitedly. Ginny laughed long and hard when she recognized her brother in his Dumbledore guise.

Harry had still not shown up. "Have any of you seen Harry?" Hermione asked to the people sitting at the table. "He was supposed to meet us here."

"Nope, haven't seen him," Ron shrugged. Neville still wasn't speaking, only staring, and Seamus and Dean both shook their heads vaguely. Ginny and her friends hadn't either. Hermione rolled her eyes; they were no help. She started drumming her silver claws in rapid succession on the tabletop, resting her chin in her other hand. Ron pointed out that she was going to carve holes in the wood, and she just glared at him.

Every time the doors to the Great Hall opened, almost everyone looked up to see who was arriving. No music was playing yet, and only the din of various conversations filled the air, so the doors were easy to hear. Each time, Harry didn't appear. The teachers were starting to head towards the High Table, and students were all gathering with their friends and sitting down, looking ready to eat. No food filled the golden dishes. Finally, the doors opened again, and in walked someone almost unrecognizable but for his messy black hair and bright green eyes.