Hermione was curled up in an oversized armchair in front of the common room fire. For once her mind had drifted far from the book in her lap. She had been spacy and lost to her thoughts ever since Viktor had asked her to the Yule Ball. Secret smiles had crossed her face at the oddest times, and she'd had to avert her gaze from those around her lest she revealed something by accident. Hermione had debated going up to bed early and playing with the little Fireball, but when she had come back to her dorm, he was gone. She shouldn't have been surprised, Ginny had assured her she would help hide it. Though Hermione couldn't regret the actions she had taken to keep her burgeoning friendship with Viktor a secret, she found she missed the dragon's snorts and nuzzling grazes.
Hermione dragged herself from her very uncharacteristic woolgathering to focus on the task she had been given. She had promised Viktor that she could secure a date for Mikhail, and she was determined to uphold that pledge. Viktor's friends had come up often in their conversations; he spoke of them warmly it was another area in which Hermione felt a sense of kinship with him. Mikhail, it seemed, was just looking for a date for the evening, nothing romantic. She had asked Viktor to tell her about Mikhail and what he had said painted a picture of a boy who was vastly intelligent though could be cold and aloof at times. Hermione had been considering Ginny, but now she wasn't so sure they would be such a good fit. While Ginny was younger, she already had a 'formed personality', and it was possible her fire would consume the unsuspecting Bulgarian whole. Hermione leant her head back to meander further only to come to a halt when she heard someone drop into the seat next to her. Opening one eye she rolled her head to find Neville fidgeting in a matching armchair, looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"Are you ok?" Hermione asked, concerned that he might be coming to tell her that Harry or more likely Ron, had done something stupid since she had last seen them. Herself and Neville had grown closer that year, bonded by their shared belief in Harry. Hermione had been beyond proud of her housemate when he had stood next to her in the common room after the champion selection, proud and immensely grateful. It had put her in mind of a time when they were much younger, and Neville had put himself in her firing line - not that he had known it at the time - to defend what he thought was right.
"Yes, YES, err actually I am," Neville answered falteringly, and wholly unconvincing.
"That's… good," Hermione tried, at a loss to understand what was going on. "Can I help you with something?" she asked kindly and sat up properly, turning to face him, which only seemed to make Neville more agitated.
Neville looked pained for several moments before he lurched forward to grab a half-full glass of water off the coffee table before drinking it all down in two large gulps.
"Er, well, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Yule Ball… well, of course, you want to go, who wouldn't? From what McGonagall said it sounds amazing, but er… would you want to go with me?" Neville asked finally, his hands resting on his knees that were bouncing in front of him.
Hermione felt the heat rise up her neck, and she did all she could to keep her expression neutral as her insides churned. She almost wished Viktor hadn't asked her; she wanted to be able to say yes so badly. Hermione didn't like Neville, not like that, but she wanted to be able to make what was obviously a challenging endeavour worth it for him. But she couldn't do that. When Viktor had asked her, Hermione had felt truly happy, so much so that she had felt a little sick, in the best possible way. As much as she wanted to alleviate Neville's nerves, she couldn't do it at Viktor's expense, or her own.
"I'm so sorry, Neville, I've already been asked," Hermione explained compassionately. His face fell a little, and she sat forward, awkwardly patting his clammy hand. "I am very flattered that you asked me, thank you, Neville."
"You're… you're welcome Hermione," he replied quietly.
Silence fell between them, and Hermione shifted her book from her lap. She was desperate for this not to become something awkward between them that would linger, fester and poison their friendship. She sat forward and waved her wand to refill Neville's glass, hoping that the implied invitation for him to stay would put her friend's mind at ease.
"I have an idea of someone who would love to go if you are interested?"
"Oh?" Neville replied with his eyes downcast and his cheeks slightly pink, "Who?"
"Have you thought about asking Ginny?" Hermione ventured quietly.
Neville tilted his head to the side as his legs started to bounce with abandon again, Hermione didn't envy those having to do the asking.
"Ginny? Really?" he said eventually, and Hermione nodded, a little manically.
"She would love to go, and I'm sure she would be very flattered to be asked, just like I am." Neville snorted quietly, and the sound hurt. "Truly," Hermione continued honestly, wishing for her friend to believe her. She couldn't believe someone else had asked her, let alone been visibly upset that she had said no.
Neville smiled, a kind of almost there smile, and Hermione felt herself sag in relief. "I think I will ask her," he said and nodded as if he had resolved himself. He got up from the chair and walked as if to go up the stairs to the dorms before pausing for a second, turning to look back over his shoulder at her. "I'm not surprised someone asked you by the way," she looked up at him, "I hope you have a great time Hermione."
"Me too, Neville, me too."
The next day, following a restful night dreaming of ice sculptures, punch bowls, twirling skirts and furs, Hermione went out into the grounds after breakfast. It was freezing, and she was never one to be outside unless it was strictly required, but she was pretty sure she had seen who she was looking for disappearing this way out of the Great Hall.
It didn't take much stomping through the frosted grass before Hermione found her, sitting by the side of the lake. Luna was perched on the very edge of a stone bench, charming the light snowfall that was dusting the ground to dance around her in swirling patterns that caught up in her fair hair and eyelashes. Hermione had thought hard about her decision; she had promised Viktor a date for his friend, and she felt sure that Luna was the best choice. She was unlikely to form a romantic attachment without provocation - which she was sure Mikhail wouldn't give - quiet though he may have been, he would undoubtedly find her interesting, Luna was one of a kind. Their potential suitability as companions for the evening aside, somewhat selfishly Hermione wanted her friend to come, and it looked as if by the end of the week they would all be going.
When Hermione had first heard about the ball she had hurried off to owl her mother, she wanted to get a new dress but wasn't confident doing so without her mother's approval. Jean Granger had almost fallen over herself to agree; despite the letter she had received in reply being drafted in trusty biro her mother had apparently been pressing hard enough to create spills of ink. Hermione had not been surprised at her mother's rapid response, given she had afforded her virtually no outlet for such activities up to now.
As she approached Luna, Hermione dropped onto the cold bench next to her, drawing her wand to cast warming charms over both of them, certain that Luna would not have remembered to do so herself.
"Hi, Hermione," Luna greeted brightly, not taking her eyes off the snow clusters. "How are you?"
Hermione smiled as Luna glided a knot of snow over to her face that dispersed as it pressed against the warm skin of her nose. "I'm good thank you, Luna. I don't mean to disturb you but I have a favour to ask," she began, eager to get out of the cold as quickly as possible.
"Another one?" Luna asked, dropping her wand back inside her jacket and letting the previously animated flecks fall to the ground.
"I'm, sorry?" Hermione responded, having no idea what Luna was referring to.
"The dragon," Luna replied simply, "Ginny passed him to me."
Hermione's eyes filled with understanding; that had been a very wise plan. "Thank you for doing that. I haven't seen Ginny yet today, I didn't know where she had taken it," Hermione explained. "How is he? I know it was slowing down…. Would you think I'm strange if I wanted to see it before it loses its animation?" She asked softly; she felt a little silly, but she had been so blown away by Viktor's gift, and she would be kind of sad when the tiny dragon lost its life, artificial as it may have been.
"Of course not," Luna replied, "but you shouldn't worry about that, I fixed it," she said matter-of-factly.
"What do you mean you fixed it?"
Luna shrugged. "It didn't take much, a few charms," she said with a wave of her delicate, ungloved hand. "It doesn't quite have the fiery personality it once had, and I had to charm its wings so it couldn't completely fly away but it's still very animated, though, a little subdued. I think he misses you."
Hermione smiled and pulled Luna into a big hug. "Thank you," she said into the girl's hair. She couldn't wait to tell Viktor that the Fireball would remain, though, despite him gifting it to her, he seemed slightly less taken with the dragon than she was.
"So, what did you want to ask me?" Luna said as Hermione finally released her.
"Well, Viktor… er, Viktor Krum from Durmstrang has asked me to the ball," Hermione admitted before she could lose her nerve. It felt strange saying it out loud, and her face immediately snapped to Luna's waiting to see scepticism there, but all she could see were Luna's typically impassive features
Luna smiled, "Well, that's not exactly a surprise, I am looking after the dragon after all," she mused thoughtfully. "As a Seeker, I suppose Viktor is used to spotting things of value that other people miss, or they do not act quick enough to catch."
It took Hermione a moment to overcome the tight feeling in her throat, she coughed into her scarf and blinked away the watery mix of relief and validation that had rushed to her eyes. It hadn't been until she had told her friend that Hermione realised she had expected people to disbelieve her, to think that she was lying or worse that Viktor had asked her out of pity. Hermione pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind to raise with her mum when she saw her.
"Thank you," she said finally, reaching for Luna's hand and squeezing it tightly. "What I was going to ask is Mikhail, Viktor's friend…"
"The serious one?" Luna interjected.
Hermione stifled a laugh. "Yes, that one, he would like a companion for the ball, and for reasons that remain slightly unclear to me, Viktor asked if I could ask someone." At Luna's thoughtful expression Hermione rushed out her explanation of it being unromantic in intention. "I just thought it might be fun, I think Neville is asking Ginny, and we could go and get dresses together, get ready together… and," Hermione sagged, "I could so with some support in this, I don't know what I'm doing."
Luna pulled on a frosted length of Hermione's hair. "You must be doing something right Hermione, he asked." Well, that was an interesting thought. When the announcement had first been made Hermione had never actually expected Viktor to ask her. She had hoped she might have some chance to talk to him during the evening, but not to arrive with him. Both the invite for the ball and the date in town were a bit too much for her to process. Hence her focus on Mikhail's companion.
"I would love to come, more for the bits with you and Ginny, I'm not sure I've ever got dressed up before, but I'm a third year."
"It's perfectly within the rules. I checked," Hermione said authoritatively.
Luna smiled then, really smiled. "Of course you did. , let's do it!"
A week later Professor McGonagall made good on her threat and held dance lessons. The boys made their protest known by literally dragging their feet on the way to their designated classroom, and as irritated as Hermione was with Ron's reluctance she privately empathised, this was likely to be a somewhat humiliating experience for everyone. Her feelings didn't stop her from yelling at them to get a move on, she hadn't been late to a lesson held by her Head of House for four years, and she wasn't about to start now.
Thankfully their professor, in an uncharacteristic display of mercy, had at least decided only to torment them in front of their own house. The idea of the lesson being in tandem with Slytherin was almost unthinkable, as was the thought of Professor Snape having the same experience in the dungeons at that very moment, Hermione did her best to banish that image as soon as it appeared.
Hermione lined up with the other fourth year girls feeling decidedly twitchy; this was not something she felt comfortable with at all. She tried to follow the beats Professor McGonagall was outlining from the music, but it may as well have been in Ancient Greek. Ancient Greek would probably have been more discernible.
When their professor asked for volunteers Hermione was surprised to see a hesitant Neville walk out, he looked pale but perked up when Professor McGonagall warmly praised him. Parvati was selected from the girls, and after a significant moment of awkwardness, as the required placement of hands was demonstrated, the two moved together, stiffly at first, especially during the bowing nonsense that seemed to be required before the dancing had even begun. Hermione considered that it might have been worth being called a Mudblood all this time if it also meant that she had grown up watching Saturday Morning Kitchen with her mum instead of having dance lessons, but as the flow of the music swelled around the room, her opinion changed.
Neville was unexpectedly brilliant. Utterly brilliant. The longer he moved, the more he seemed to shake off his nerves. His dancing had a natural rhythm, and his body arched and fell completely in time with the music. Through his sure movements Hermione could finally pick up the melody she should have been following for the last half an hour, and some of her anxiety washed away.
It wasn't just her; Hermione noticed the subtle smiles of the girls along the line of the wall and the quirking of Parvati's lips, who now seemed delighted to realise she had underestimated her partner. Hermione couldn't help beaming. How her consistently clumsy friend could be so distinctly graceful executing the complicated steps she had no idea. A soft gasp echoed through the room as Neville turned, dropping his hands to Parvati's waist before he lifted her off the ground.
Hermione couldn't wait to tell Ginny. The redhead had tackled her in the corridor the evening before, almost incoherent with joy, Neville had asked her to the ball just before dinner and she was thrilled, thrilled to be going at all as a third year, but also pleased to be going with a friend.
'If I can't go with someone I like like it's lovely to be able to go with someone I feel comfortable with,' Ginny had confided. The young witch's feeling for Harry drifted in the air between them, but neither said anything. Hermione suspected it would be a few years before Harry could see the value in having Ginny's affections directed at him, and she secretly hoped then when he finally did cotton on Ginny would make him work for it.
When Neville bowed to Parvati to signal the end of the dance the room broke into applause, and Professor McGonagall commanded that they all partner up and start learning the basic steps. Hermione instinctively shrank back against the wall, memories of junior school PE flooding her senses, of not wanting to face the humiliation of being picked last, coupled with the dread of being picked at all as it would mean she would have to take part. Though, she didn't have much time to panic before Dean Thomas was stood in front of her. He dropped into an elegant bow, more suited to a European Prince than a schoolboy, and at his mumbled 'm'lady' Hermione burst into giggles that chased away all of her residual nerves. As subtly as she could, she wiped her warm palms against the sides of her school skirt and took his hand.
Considering she was a Muggle-born and Dean might as well have been, they fumbled through the steps well enough. Dean distracted her by goofing around, and even Professor McGonagall seemed to be fighting back a smile as the staid waltz they were practising morphed into a clumsy sort of Tango as Dean led Hermione with a forced, comedic rigidity.
Hermione added to her mental to-do list to ask Ginny to take her through some of the steps; she didn't want to show herself up. As Dean twirled her around the floor, Hermione couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to be held within Viktor's embrace. She imagined he would be a good dancer, he seemed good at most physical activities, and as the thought popped into her head, she felt her cheeks flush and prayed she could believably pass it off as being down to the exertion.
That Saturday morning Hermione woke with a start when something landed directly on her stomach, something that was decidedly larger than Crookshanks. "What the hell?!" she moaned when she got her breath back. Blinking to clear away the remaining sleep from her eyes Hermione found Ginny on top of her, already dressed and grinning at her manically. "Urgh! What time is it?" she mumbled sleepily.
"Time to get up and get breakfast," Ginny replied, jumping up from the bed and pulling Hermione's cover away.
Hermione glared. "You're up early," she accused.
"I know," Ginny acknowledged almost bouncing on the spot.
"Too early," Hermione bit out, not at all pleased that her mood had not yet been picked up on.
"I couldn't sleep."
"Why?
"Why?" Ginny responded incredulously. "Why do you think Hermione? My friend tells me we are going out, not just to London, but Muggle London and we are getting dresses, dresses for a ball, for a ball I didn't think I would be going to… I. AM. SO. EXCITED!"
"I couldn't tell" Hermione responded dryly dragging herself unwillingly from her soft mattress. She had just planted her feet on the floor when the door opened again and Luna walked in, decidedly calmer than Ginny but also dressed and ready to go all the same.
"How did you get up here?" Hermione asked baffled.
Luna looked over past her shoulders at the dorm door and shrugged. "The stairs."
"I'm not even going to ask" Hermione muttered rubbing her temples.
"Come on Hermione, we have to go, now, now, now," Ginny chastised, throwing random clothes at her till Hermione sprang, slowly into action.
Forcing herself around the dorm room, Hermione got herself ready to avoid Ginny's ire and was soon following the girls down to breakfast; they would be using the Floo in Professor McGonagall's office and meeting her mother at Bond Street tube station. Hermione felt pretty confident about their trip but was concerned about the girl's inexperience so spent most of the breakfast warning them about potential dangers and repeatedly telling them to keep together, and it was a testament to how delighted they both were that they let her carry on without interruption.
Hermione's mother was thrilled when she saw them appear out of the tube exit. The girls were chatting enthusiastically, and while Luna and Ginny had marvelled at the tube, there had been no need to warn them about staying close, both girls had looped an arm under Hermione's to avoid the crush and had stuck to her like glue ever since. Even Ginny's famous bravado had faltered after the harsh closing of the automatic train doors, and Luna's adventurous spirit had laid dormant as they stepped onto the first escalator.
Her mum steered them into one of the larger department stores and immediately herded them towards to the cafe so she could catch up, and talk about what they wanted to find. As soon as the tea tray settled on the wobbly table, her mum pounced; "So, who is the boy?" Jean asked leaning forward across the table to distribute the stack of cups.
"Boy?" Hermione answered innocently and completely unbelievable.
"He's from Durmstrang," Ginny supplied animatedly, leaping forward to pour the tea, still not having lost the bounce she had woken up with.
"One of the visiting schools?" her mum asked, and Hermione smiled. Though a lot of what she told her parents must have seemed like gobbledygook to them, they tried to keep up with the goings-on, even if they didn't fully understand them.
"Yes!" Luna chimed in, "and he's a professional Quidditch player, supposedly the best Seeker in the world."
"That's the sport, right?" her mum asked with a quizzical look to Hermione. The apple hadn't fallen far from the tree in that respect; her mother had no more interest in sports than Hermione did. At Hermione's nod, she continued, "How old is he?"
"Seventeen," Hermione replied joining the conversation for the first time. Usually, she would have been irritated by the talk happening around her but it felt nice that her friends were excited, it felt nice to be excited herself for once. She realised as she took in her mum's happy, relaxed demeanour that it had been a long time since she had seen either one of her parents during term time and she felt a bit ashamed of herself. Boarding school would not have been Jean Granger's preferred option if there had been a choice, but she had bowed to her daughter's wishes when magic had been exposed to them.
Her mother looked like she was processing the age difference as the girls shrugged out of their winter coats. Hermione wasn't overly concerned; Jean was unlikely to have a problem. Hermione's dad was ten years older than her mother, and they had met when they were quite young, though she suspected David Granger might conveniently find a reason to discount that information if he found out, when he found out.
"She has a date with him this afternoon," Ginny burst out as if she couldn't hold in the information any longer. Seriously what was wrong with that girl today?
Her mother's hands stilled as she raised her cup to her lips. "It must be serious, we should get you something else to wear."
Eager to move the conversation along. Hermione brought up the ball dresses they wanted which had them all talking vigorously. Herself and Luna both wanted to wear blue, it was in keeping with the winter feel, and they liked the colour, Ginny mentioned that it would look nice with their date's uniforms and Hermione blushed causing her mum to make a very uncharacteristic squealing sound. She was enjoying this far too much already.
Hermione sipped her tea and allowed the chatter to continue around her. She felt she had little else to contribute to the conversation, she wasn't even wholly sure what half the terms Ginny was using concerning her dress idea meant. Hermione had been relieved when she had thought up a colour to be met with Luna's agreement. In truth, she was too nervous about later that day to focus like she should have done, and even the joy and comfort of being with her mother couldn't calm her.
Hermione had run into Viktor only once since he had asked her to the ball; he had wanted to confirm their date for that afternoon, and she had taken the opportunity to tell him Luna had agreed to go with Mikhail. When he had asked about her about the weekend, Hermione had said she was getting her dress, and he had inquired what sort of thing she planned on. With a coyness she hadn't been aware she possessed Hermione told Viktor would have to wait and see. He had smiled at her response before tilting his head to the side;
"Well I will be nice and tell," he said in a decidedly bold tone of voice that Hermione found she liked, a lot. "I will be wearing formal uniform robes."
"Is that the red tunic?" Hermione asked as lightly as she could, while she bit firmly into her lip to prevent herself from saying any more about it.
Viktor looked smug as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Da," he confirmed, and he went on to explain in broken English about the fur-lined cape he would also have on.
Hermione nodded to show her understanding. Somehow since Viktor had asked her to accompany him things were more comfortable between them. Not that they had ever been difficult, far from it, but she had always felt like she was tying herself in knots, too scared to say too much in case she betrayed herself. Now that she knew he reciprocated her crush, at least a little, Hermione didn't feel so much like an inexperienced child pining after the unattainable.
It wasn't long before their tea was abandoned and they were all in the changing rooms with their first round of clothes. Ginny had a broad spectrum of things to choose from, but Hermione and Luna had stuck to their desire for blue gowns. It was Luna who found hers first; the ice blue dress fell to her dainty feet, and was full sleeved, rising high on her neck and completely covered in beautifully embroidered flowers. The sleeves billowed around her pale skin, and Luna rejoiced in finding pockets contained inside the voluminous skirts. It was stunning, entirely fitting for the occasion and slightly eccentric, all in all, perfect for her friend.
"Oh, I know exactly what to do for your hair," Ginny called out as Luna leapt back and forth, repeatedly twirling her skirts about her like a miniature ballerina.
"You're just like my Hermione, Luna," Jean said kindly, eyeing the excess fabric trailing over the floor. "We'll have to get it taken up, so you don't trip over the hem. Is that something you can do with your magic love?"
"Yes, we can, if we can't find a spell, I'm sure Mrs Weasley will be able to send us the appropriate books," Hermione replied turning to her friend. "It's so, so lovely Luna."
Hermione admired the shape very much; it was modest while still being gorgeous, synched in at the waist with a voluminous skirt. A sales girl who had come to take away the unwanted dresses watched Hermione's expression and stepped forward. "Would you like me to pull similar things?" she asked, eager to help.
Hermione's eyes fell to Luna. "Would you mind?"
"Would I mind someone wanting to dress like me?" Luna replied, her eyebrows rising. "No, not at all… I think that would be rather wonderful actually."
Hermione sat down next to her mum while Ginny went back in to carry on working through her enormous pile and Luna went to change. "Try the red ones next Ginny," her mum called out.
Hermione looked up; her mother was having a lovely time, and she felt a small pang of guilt that she hadn't had an experience like this before. "Would you like to go for lunch afterwards?"
"Of course sweetheart, I would love too. But don't you need to be heading back to school for your date?"
"Yes, but not immediately," Hermione replied, settling her head on her mum's shoulder.
"Well then, let's get your dresses, and then I'll feed you all," she said dropping a kiss amid Hermione's curls. "I like your friends," she whispered almost conspiratorially, and Hermione smiled. "And I can't wait to hear more about this boy that has finally got my girl blushing," she continued in a teasing tone.
"We will tell you, Mrs Granger," Ginny called, her voice muffled behind the heavy curtain.
Hermione fought back her need to shout at everyone again; she needed the help, any pointers she could get would be gratefully received. While the dress shopping was a pleasant distraction the butterflies that had been present in her stomach since the morning seemed to be multiplying at an alarming rate.
A moment or two later the curtain was dramatically ripped open, and Ginny sauntered out in a bright red form-fitting dress, the neckline asymmetrically leading up to one shoulder. It wasn't a traditional ball gown. Instead, it ended at the ankle, with a relatively sizable split in the front, but then, Ginny had never really been an ordinary girl.
"What do you think?" she said, holding her arms out and placing them on her hips.
"I think you'll stun Neville," Luna called breezily.
"Like, literally stun him," Hermione added. "And we might have to put a cloak over you to get you out of the common room before Ron notices but, you look so beautiful."
"Not too much?" Ginny asked lightly, spinning in the mirror so she could see the back of it for herself.
Hermione's mother jumped up eyeing the dress in the mirror from behind Ginny. "No, I don't think so. It is a pretty bold cut, but you're still covered up, and there aren't any adornments or anything, stick to simple makeup and hair and you will be fine."
Hermione's eyes must have widened at the talk of makeup because Ginny looked back at her amused. "Not to worry Hermione, all in hand, you just find the dress and let me worry about everything else."
Just then the sales girl reappeared holding the next round of dresses and Hermione went back into the changing room to start trying on. The first one in the pile looked a little flashy for her tastes but knowing her mum would protest if she went for something overly simple Hermione slipped it on. Moving her ridiculous hair out of the way to fasten the back as far as she could she finally looked at herself in the mirror and couldn't hold back a tiny gasp. What had looked glittery and overdone on the hanger looked like chiselled ice now it was on. The gown was a soft blue, and the shape was incredibly similar to Luna's, falling to the floor with an A-line skirt, but the sleeves sat firmly against her skin ending just before her wrists. The bright jewels that lined the entire gown were arranged in artful patterns that reminded her of mosaic tiles she had seen on holidays in Northern Africa. It was the single best thing Hermione had ever put on, and she was instantly sure that she looked utterly silly in something so beautiful, something so grown up. Sucking in a breath, she pulled back the curtain to find her friends, now back in their regular clothes, sitting on either side of her mother. They went silent, and Hermione twitched, uncomfortable with their sweeping glances.
"I know," she said, breaking the hush and dropping her head. "It's a little OTT, isn't it? Maybe I should look for something a bit plainer?"
When she looked back up her mum pinned her right in the eyes with her gaze. "Oh, Hermione, it's so beautiful… You look so pretty."
"Really?" she asked in a small voice.
"Yes, really," Ginny said standing to sweep around the dress, "This is perfect… Plus you and Luna have coordinated, and that works seeing as you're both going with boys from the same school."
"This one then?" she asked looking back at her mum for her approval.
"Oh, I should say so," her mother agreed with a warm smile.
"Great, I'll take it off then and then we can go for lunch."
"Hermione," her mother began, "you're forgetting your outfit for later."
"How could I have forgotten?" she replied with a roll of her eyes.
"Come on, it won't be that bad, just a nice new coat and boots" her mum chided.
"Just a nice new coat and boots?" she asked sceptically, but with amusement, she knew this game of old.
"Well, maybe a cute top too."
A 'quick trip' to get a new outfit had taken over an hour, and by the time Hermione got back from lunch, she only had just enough time to change before she was due to meet Viktor. Something she was sure her mother had planned. Her mother had shown a restraint she wasn't known for and allowed her to pick simple items. It was after all winter in Scotland; there were limited options.
Hermione had a pair of jeans that Ginny had insisted she get, slim fit 'so they fit inside boots', a line she was sure her friend had been fed, what would Ginny have known about jeans? They were paired with the softest cable knit jumper in a warm cream that she had loved immediately, and a darker cream woolly looking winter coat to pull over the top.
All of that Hermione was fine with, it was the tan knee-high boots she was eyeing sceptically. Thankfully, her mother had selected flat heels, but they still felt unlike her, it wasn't that she disliked them, not as such, they just seemed more attention-grabbing than she would normally wear. Which she reluctantly conceded was the point if she was going on a date.
Hermione pulled on the boots and took a quick glance in the mirror; she didn't have time to do much with her hair, but she tended to leave it down in the winter as the bulk kept her ears warm. Out of time, she grabbed her coat and made her way down to the to the common room, drawing a half-raised eyebrow from Neville which made her feel even more exposed in her outfit. She should have just worn her battered trainers.
Against the odds, Hermione managed to make it on time, finding Viktor standing outside waiting for her, completely unaffected by the cold in his fur-lined jacket. The grounds were quiet now as most students would either already be in Hogsmeade or inside, having decided against the excursion because of the weather.
He reached his arm out towards her, and Hermione took it as gracefully as she could manage, given the plethora of butterflies that had awoken in her stomach.
A/N: I am truly sorry to end it there but the chapter was getting so long and I wanted to give proper space for their first real date so it will be in the next chapter. Follow me on Tumblr for sneak peeks etc (Calebski).