Disclaimer: Hey, JK Rowling, do you want to give me the rights to Harry Potter? No? Be a lot cooler if you did.

Chapter 59

Harry placed his chin on the desk in front of him and observed the guinea pig that was scuttling around in front of him. It spared him a glance, and he had to admit the creature was rather cute, with its pristine white fur and floppy ears to accompany its inquisitive black eyes. He smirked as his creation scampered across his desk to the closest living thing, a guinea fowl turned guinea pig that belonged to the girl sitting next to him.

"They're adorable!" Hermione gasped, watching with rapt interest as the two animals politely greeted each other before they began sniffing the table beneath them. "Aren't they?"

"They are," Harry nodded, still watching the pair of guinea pigs. "They need names."

"Names?" Hermione asked, looking amused. "Are you planning to adopt them?" Harry just shrugged. "Well, did you have any ideas for names?" She arched an eyebrow at Harry.

"Maverick and Goose," He said automatically, grinning as Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hey, you're the one who showed me Top Gun. You brought this onto yourself."

"Oh, it is one of my few regrets," Hermione drawled, shaking her head at him.

"Well, what is your brilliant idea for names?" Harry cocked his head in a challenging manner. "Let me guess, Pride and Prejudice?" His eyes twinkled mischievously as Hermione blushed. "You were going to say that, weren't you?"

"Shut up," She half-heartedly elbowed him in the ribs. "Maybe."

"That's my girl," Harry teased, feeling particularly smug when Hermione let out a squeak and blushed even deeper. "Alright, I'm sure we can find some better names for these guys. Merlin knows we have time…" He glanced around and knew his statement was true.

They were in Transfiguration class, and as per McGonagall's assignment, the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were to transfigure guinea fowls into guinea pigs. Unsurprisingly, Harry and Hermione were the first to accomplish the feat, seeing as they were the best two students in the class. Ron and Neville were sharing a desk in front of the pair, and the former was too busy rambling to the latter about his plans to be Gryffindor's next Keeper to get any real Transfiguration done. Meanwhile, Parvati and Lavender were across the aisle, and the former had made a bit of progress, but her guinea pig still had a beak and a few feathers, leading to a rather unsettling creation.

"So, I say we make good use of this time and try some other names," Harry said, turning back to his girlfriend and their now-dozing guinea pigs. "What have you got? And don't say Sense and Sensibility."

"Hmm…" Hermione scrunched her eyebrows together. "Wilbur and Orville."

"My pilot names were cooler," Harry chuckled. "Dorothy and Toto?"

"Ooh, that's not bad," Hermione smiled. "How about Rodgers and Hammerstein?"

"Is that another Jane Austen book?"

"They're composers, you prat," Hermione rolled her eyes but her smile didn't falter.

"Ah," Harry shrugged innocently. "How about Ketchup and Mustard?"

"No food names," Hermione said, her tone laced with a finality to which Harry could only nod meekly. "What do you think of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern?"

"It beats Romeo and Juliet, but it's too long," Harry shook his head. "How about Quaffle and Snitch?"

"Do you want me to hex you?"

"Alright, alright," Harry held his hands up in surrender. "Something simple like King and Queen?"

"If we're doing royalty, how about William and Mary?"

Harry gave a noncommittal shrug. "Thunder and Lightning?"

"Pass," Hermione shook her head vigorously. "Antony and Cleopatra?"

"No. Only because if Viktor Krum waltzes in here with a guinea pig named Julius Caesar, I'm going to get very nervous."

"I'm offended that you think my heart belongs to anybody but you," Hermione chided him with a sly smile, to which Harry let out a small sigh of relief. "Do you like Holmes and Watson?"

"Not as much as I like Maverick and Goose," Harry teased before he perked up excitedly. "Hey, how about Books and Brooms? As names? It's simple, and they're both things we really like, right? Plus, it's got a nice ring to it."

"Books and Brooms…" Hermione clapped her hands together and beamed at him. "I love it!"

Harry grinned at her, and they resumed their observations of their guinea pigs, who were now examining Hermione's open textbook in awe. After a few minutes of happily watching Books and Brooms move about, McGonagall cleared her throat and Harry and Hermione were forced to look up. Quickly, the rest of the class stopped their attempts to transfigure their guinea fowls and directed their attention to the front of the class.

"I have something to say to you all," The Head of Gryffindor said matter-of-factly. "The Yule Ball is approaching. It is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above – although you may invite a younger student if you wish."

Lavender and Parvati began giggling like lunatics, and Harry groaned, keeping his attention on his teacher. He could sense their unsubtle stares at him and Hermione, and he barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"Dress robes will be worn," McGonagall continued. "And the ball will be held on Christmas, beginning at eight in the evening in the Great Hall and concluding at midnight." She paused, her lips pressing tightly together. "Now, the Yule Ball is a chance for us all to…let our hair down."

At this, Lavender giggled harder than ever. Ron turned around and glared at the blonde before turning to face Harry with an exasperated look. "Mental, that one," He whispered. Harry blew air out of his nose in silent amusement before glancing back towards his teacher.

"However," McGonagall's stern tone returned, "that does not mean the standards of Hogwarts will be lowered. And to my Gryffindors in the room, I will be most seriously displeased if any of you are to embarrass this school in any way."

The bell rang, and with that, the class concluded. McGonagall moved about the classroom to collect the guinea fowls, but when she reached Harry and Hermione's desk she placed the cage down and stopped them from packing their bags any further.

"Mister Potter, a word please," She said neutrally. Harry blinked in surprise before turning to Hermione.

"I'll see you later?"

"I'll wait outside," She reassured him, bidding McGonagall goodbye and striding out, her bag slung over her shoulder.

"Professor?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"Mister Potter, the Triwizard champions and their partners are to open the Yule Ball with a dance. It is tradition."

"I have to do what?" Harry's knees almost buckled in shock, and he gripped the edge of the desk tightly. "Sorry, Professor, I don't dance."

"As a matter of fact, you do," The professor insisted. "You are to set an example, I won't have you embarrassing your school, nor your house."

"Professor, I really can't – "

"You have a great many people to represent, Mister Potter. I understand this may be out of your comfort zone, but it is a challenge you must face nonetheless, much like the tournament itself." She paused, her eyes reflecting a hint of uncharacteristic amusement. "I have faith that you can handle a waltz with the same tenacity with which you handled a basilisk."

"Uh…alright. Thanks," Harry said awkwardly, cracking a nervous smile. "So, I have to dance in front of everyone?"

"With your partner, yes," McGonagall's lips twitched into an almost imperceptible smile. "Assuming things have not fallen apart since you won the Quidditch Cup last year, I doubt you have to look very far for the right partner."

Harry grinned to himself at the memory of kissing Hermione on the Quidditch pitch in front of everyone in the castle, including his professors. He gave McGonagall a thumbs-up and shouldered his bag, heading towards the door.

He slipped into the corridor to find Hermione leaning against the stone wall, unsurprisingly flipping through one of her textbooks. He cleared his throat and she jerked in surprise before smiling and returning her book to her bag.

"Are you in trouble?" She asked warily.

"I'm not in trouble," Harry smirked, fiddling with the strap of his bag. "Well, I might be. It depends on your answer to my next question."

"What's the question?" Hermione pushed herself off the wall, crossing her arms and cocking her hips.

"It turns out that in this Yule Ball extravaganza, it is tradition that the champions open the event with a dance," He said with feigned exasperation. "A dance that must be performed with their dance partners."

"I think I remember reading something about that," She said, shyly biting her lip. "So, what's your question?"

"Hermione," Harry grinned, his heart fluttering in his chest, "do you want to go to the Yule Ball with me? As my date?"

Hermione squealed, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet with a smile that could span an ocean. She opened her mouth to answer before promptly closing it and flinging her arms around him, sending the boy wizard staggering backwards. His back collided against a stone wall and he almost toppled over, but he steadied himself and returned the hug, his own smile widening as Hermione buried her face into the crook of his neck.

"I really hope that this is a yes, otherwise this is probably the weirdest rejection of all time," He snickered.

"Of course I'll go to the ball with you, Harry!" She laughed into his shoulder, squeezing him as hard as she could. "Oh, I'm so happy right now!"

"Did you expect me to ask somebody else?"

"Well, not really, I suppose," She admitted, pulling back to face him. "Still, I've been looking forward to seeing why we needed dress robes for this year. And I was secretly hoping it was something where I could be your date."

"Are you saying that you fancy me?"

"Well," Hermione pinked, "you're the one who asked me to be your date. Maybe I should be asking you if you fancy me."

"Touché," Harry smirked. "By the way, have I ever told you that you're brilliant? And gorgeous?"

"Oh, stop it," Hermione ducked her head before glancing back at him with a wicked glint in her eye. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Harry Potter."

"Oh…" It was Harry's turn to blush before he composed himself. "That's good to know." Hermione giggled at his reaction before stepping backwards, motioning towards the classroom Harry had just exited.

"I was actually going to ask McGonagall a few questions. Would you mind meeting me in the library, dance partner?"

"I'll wait for you."

"No, go ahead. Make sure that the Viktor Krum Fan Club isn't there to be their usual annoying selves."

"Will do," Harry squeezed her hand before letting his fingers slip out of hers. "Hey, maybe you can check out a book on Cushioning Charms while we're there."

"Why?"

"Because I can't dance," He chuckled. "I fully expect to step on your feet more than I do the actual dance floor. With a decent Cushioning Charm you probably won't have to deal with too many broken toes, right?"

"Oh…" Hermione bowed her head in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her prominent blush. "That's not…I mean – you don't have to worry about that."

"How come?" He asked. Hermione mumbled something incoherent and he tilted his head. "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"I can teach you. I know how to dance," She said bashfully. "I learned when I was about nine or ten."

"Oh! Hermione, that's great!" He said sincerely, but he couldn't help but grin at her visible embarrassment. "Is there any particular reason why your face looks like a tomato?"

"Oh, shut up," She glared at him before wilting under his playful stare. "Fine," She took a deep breath, the scarlet tinge in her cheeks dissipating slightly. "When I read the works of Jane Austen for the first time, I was so fascinated by the concept of elegant balls and fancy gatherings that I made my parents get me lessons on how to do all those traditional dances."

"That's adorable."

"Don't patronize me!" Hermione huffed, swatting him on the shoulder. When Harry just laughed and shook his head in amusement, she rolled her eyes and groaned. "You're such a prat."

"I'm your prat."

"Still a prat," She murmured, but her blush deepened at his words. "I'll meet you in the library?"

"See you there," He winked, adjusting the strap of his bag before strolling off and allowing Hermione to march into McGonagall's classroom, most likely to bombard her with question after question until the Head of Gryffindor's ears fell off. He slipped into the library, waving hello to an indifferent Madam Pince before making himself at home at the table where he and Hermione usually sat.

Diligently, he extracted his Charms textbook and began reading up on the Banishing Charm. Flitwick had let it slip that it would be the first spell they learned following the Christmas holidays, and since the next two weeks would mostly be review, he figured he could harness his inner Hermione and prep well in advance. After studying up on the spell for about five minutes, he heard footsteps approach from behind and reach his table. Harry was too invested in his section to really notice how heavy the footsteps sounded, and he offered a wave and a quiet "Hello, Hermione" as the chair across from him scooted across the floor.

"I am not Hermy-own."

Harry nearly fell out of his chair in surprise as he glanced up to see Viktor Krum glowering at him, although one could surmise that it was just his usual neutral expression. He quickly composed himself, snapping his textbook closed and straightening in his seat. He was suddenly much more aware of Krum's taller, bulkier physique compared to his lean one as the older boy stared at him.

"H-hi, Viktor," Harry said lamely.

"Hello," The Durmstrang champion said stoically. "I haff a few questions for you."

Harry nodded slowly, having an inkling of where this was going and praying he was wrong. Hoping to delay the inevitable, he took a shot in the dark. "I don't know anything about the golden egg, except that it sounds like a banshee being tortured."

"No," Krum shook his head. "I haff a few questions about Hermy-own."

"Hermione," Harry corrected automatically.

"Sorry?"

"It's pronounced Hermione," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"Oh. My apologies," Krum offered sincerely, and Harry suddenly felt a twinge of remorse for chastising the Bulgarian for his accent. It wasn't as if he could speak multiple languages, what right did he have to be so vile to someone who could? "Anyway," Krum continued, ripping him from his thoughts, "I vould like to know vat is going on between you and…Herm-own-ninny."

"Oh…" Harry tried to act surprised. "We're dating, actually."

"Ah," Krum nodded. "I had…speculated such, but was not certain. It is serious?"

"Over a year," Harry pursed his lips as he nodded.

"Ah," Krum said again, his eyes growing a bit distant. "Quite serious, I see. I assume you are accompanying her to the Yule Ball?" Harry nodded. "I understand. I vas going to ask her myself if you two were not…serious."

Even though he had always suspected, it was still hard for Harry to believe the conversation he was having with Viktor Krum. The eighteen-year-old famous international Quidditch player seemed to consider him a rival! How many people could say that?

"Herm-own-ninny is quite beautiful. And smart." Krum pressed on. "I vill not lie to you. I am a bit jealous."

Harry could have been knocked over with a feather.

"But," Krum continued, "I see it vould not be right of me to…ask her. To pursue her." Harry tried his best not to show his relief and offered a curt nod. "I suppose I need to find another date, no?" Harry gave a nervous laugh and nodded again. "This Yule Ball business seems a bit…much, don't you think?"

"That we can agree on," Harry smirked, and Krum gave a low chuckle. "I doubt you'll need to look far for a date, though." Harry glanced over his shoulder to the growing group of girls observing Krum.

"Perhaps," Krum nodded pensively. "But I vould like a girl of substance, not one of the shallow girls always following me."

"I think stalking is a more fitting word," Harry deadpanned, and Krum laughed again.

"I suppose you are one of the few that knows how I feel," The Durmstrang student mused. "Even in Bulgaria, you are quite famous, Harry Potter. I suppose if you did not have Herm-own-ninny you would have to sift through a few…stalkers of your own."

It was Harry's turn to laugh. Before either one of the champions could crack another joke about the perils of being famous, a pair of light footsteps pattered across the stone floor and reached the pair.

"I see you two have finally embraced the international amity that the Triwizard Tournament is meant to encourage," Hermione smirked as she stood adjacent to the table. Harry and Krum both looked up at her and smiled, the former smiling much wider. "Is this study session reserved for champions, or may I join?"

"I…" Krum began nervously, and Harry empathized with his fellow champion as his voice faltered. Hermione just had that effect on those who weren't blind to her beauty. "Ve vere just having a nice conversation." Hermione arched an eyebrow at Harry, who nodded. "I believe I should go prepare for the Tournament. Good day."

With that, he stood up and gave the pair a polite bow before marching back to his usual table. Harry and Hermione watched him go before the latter sat down across from the former, looking at him expectantly. "What were you two talking about?"

"Viktor wanted to clarify a few things," Harry said nonchalantly, leaning back in his seat and lacing his fingers behind his head. When Hermione said nothing, he shrugged. "About you and I. He was planning on asking you to the Yule Ball unless me and you had something serious going on."

"I see," Hermione nodded slowly, a coy smile materializing on her face. "It's a good thing he talked to you. If he had asked me to the ball, I would have had to tell him that I'm already attending with the man of my dreams."

"Wow, you have it bad," Harry grinned despite his cheeks doing their best imitation of Gryffindor scarlet. Hermione giggled into her hand before calming herself down enough to grab her Arithmancy textbook. "So, Hermione Granger knows how to do the waltz?"

"Oh, shut up," She blushed, half-heartedly kicking his shin under the table. "Do you want me to teach you or not?"

"I do," Harry reassured her, still grinning. "I suppose it will give us a less scandalous reason to search out empty classrooms, don't you think?"

"Stop it!" Hermione hissed, but the amused twinkle in her eyes betrayed her. "Can we at least get a bit of studying done, or are you going to keep shamelessly flirting with me?"

"I suppose I could do some studying," Harry winked, reopening his Charms book for the first time since Krum had sat down across from him. Unconsciously, he drifted his foot across the stone floor until it bumped with Hermione's. He was just as surprised as her at the contact, but he decided he was feeling a bit mischievous and began bumping her ankle with his heel every few seconds. He didn't even stop when Hermione let out a growl of frustration, and he still didn't cease his actions when Hermione slammed her Arithmancy book shut and glared at him.

"Yes?"

"You look pretty," He said innocently, grinning internally as Hermione's irritated demeanor gave way to flusterment almost instantly. "Sorry, I'll let you get back to reading. I know you don't like being interrupted. Although you do look really look cute when you're angry," He winked as he looked back down at his Charms book.

Through his peripheral vision he could see Hermione opening and closing her mouth as she tried in vain to say something. When she settled for letting out a long exhale and meticulously placing her book into her bag, he had to literally bite his tongue to keep himself from whooping in triumph. And it became that much harder to internalize his glee when Hermione yanked him out of his chair and dragged him out of the library, barely giving him enough time to gather his things.

Harry and Hermione found an empty classroom that afternoon, but their dancing lessons didn't start until the following Saturday.

A/N: Hi, everyone. A few days ago, I was swimming in a river with some friends of mine and I was having a blast. Until about an hour into the affair when I ended up swept into the current and I couldn't outswim it. The current sent me hurtling over a dam and down a quasi-waterfall into the water below, about fifteen feet. It doesn't sound very high, but when the water carries you over it at twenty miles per hour it seems like falling from a skyscraper. I honestly don't know how I didn't hit my head on a rock and die instantly, nor do I really know how I managed to swim to shore after the dam considering how close I was to drowning. I have a nasty gash on my back and a bruised shoulder from sliding down the dam uncomfortably, but other than that I have no serious physical injuries. However, the experience was absolutely traumatizing, and in the days since I haven't even been able to sleep because whenever I close my eyes, I see the water rushing up to meet me as I tumble over the dam. As a result, my head has not been in the right place for the past few days, making it tremendously difficult to write as well as many other things. However, writing does always help me relax, and I hope that at least writing this out in my A/N helps me get over the incident a little bit. I'm not telling you guys this to receive pity or anything, I am doing this to try and come to terms with what is undoubtedly the most traumatic experience of my life.

I love you all. Thank you for everything, and stay safe.