Though Harry and Hermione both fully intended to tell Ron about their going together as soon as possible, their good intentions were bulldozed over by massive amounts of homework that, from their perspective, rather contradicted the Christmas spirit.

"Can't they ever take it easy on us?" Ron grumbled as he failed, again, to transform his top hat into a small rabbit.

"Nope, guess they want us to impress our guests." Harry gritted his teeth. His hat had sprouted whiskers and a nose, but nothing else.

"And why do we have to turn these things into rabbits?" Ron complained, giving the top hat a whack with his wand. "If I wanted a rabbit, I could just go down to Hagrid's garden and snatch up one of those magical ones that's always eating his plants. Kill two birds with one stone." He glowered at Hermione's rabbit. She frowned.

"It still has a little black streak on its chin where the brim used to be, I do hope I can get rid of that the next go…"

Harry gave an exasperated sigh as Transfiguration wrapped up. "At least you actually have a rabbit, Hermione."

McGonagall flashed a rare smile. "20 points to Gryffindor for Miss Granger's exceptional work. Class dismissed!" Everyone split up, going their separate ways. Hermione went to-of course-the library, while Harry and Ron began making their way back to the Gryffindor common room. Professor McGonagall called, "Also, students, don't forget that the Yule Ball is just a bit more than a week from today. Don't dally too long trying to find a date."

"The Yule Ball!" Ron groaned. "I completely forgot. You find a date yet, Harry?"

"Err…yeah."

"Who? You know if she has a friend I could go with?"

"Hermione."

Ron stopped dead in the hall, nearly knocking over a poor second year who'd been walking behind him. "You're going with Hermione?" he repeated.

"Yeah," he nodded, resisting the urge to add "What's it to you?" I mean, I'd have rather gone with Cho, but that didn't work out, so I figured-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" his friend cut in. "When did you ask her?"

"Er…Couple weeks ago. It's not like I was planning on it," Harry answered defiantly, defending himself from the bite in Ron's voice.

"Right. Sure." Ron gave him the strangled grin, the same one that had taken over his face when Harry said he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire. "Well. Have fun, mate," he said shortly, then abruptly turned back away from the common room and stalked off to the Great Hall, his gaze burning a hole in the maroon carpet.

"Ron!" He called after him. The redhead didn't look back.

"Well, so much for some peace and quiet before Potions." Harry dropped his books off in his room and dashed off to the library. He found Hermione reading up on elf rights and trying to magically buffer a smudge out of some kind of badge. She looked up from her book at his arrival and smiled.

"Hey. I thought you went back to the common room."

"I did. Figured I'd warn you that Ron's going to be in a foul mood. I just told him that we're going to the ball together."

"Oh, we never did tell him, did we?" she sighed. "Wait, does he think we're going as…a couple?"

"Hermione, Ron can be pretty thick, but I don't think he's that thick."

She laughed and slapped him on the arm, grinning. "Harry Potter, you are terrible." Her face clouded again. "So, Ron was figuring he could take me? Just wait til the last minute cause God knows I could never get a date."

It was Harry's turn to laugh. "Something like that, yeah."

"Well, serves him right!"

Harry's gaze fell to the books that were scattered around the table. "Er…what are you working on?"

"Spew!"

"Uh…sorry, come again?"

"Oh, right, you don't know the acronym. I'm forming the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare," she replied proudly. "S.P.E.W. for short. I intend to better inform Hogwarts of the fact that slave labor more or less keeps this place running."

He hated to squash her enthusiasm, but… "Hermione, most house elves like being enslaved."

"Only because they don't know any better," she answered hotly. "Look at Dobby! He's free, he's happy."

He sighed. "Dobby's a bit eccentric." More to shut Hermione up than anything else, Harry took one of the badges. As he was about to leave, he noticed a small purple book hidden among the larger texts. "What's that?" He pointed.

Hermione went beet red. "Nothing, nothing, just a little something I thought I'd look at…"

He pulled it free from the pile and murmured the name of the title. "A Witch's Guide to Ballroom Dancing." She snatched it back, still scarlet.

He tried to keep from laughing, but couldn't. "You're really reading up on how to go to a ball?"

"Well, it's not like I've been before, and it's been really helpful," she answered, hands on her hips. "I'm sure I saw a companion book for wizards, too, Harry. It probably wouldn't hurt for you to look through it…"

"What, you think I can't dance?" He asked indignantly. True, he didn't particularly like dancing, but neither would you if you'd had to dance with Aunt Marge at some stupid Dursley's wedding reception. He wasn't a great dancer, but he wasn't completely hopeless either.

The smirk that played on Hermione's face said she had other thoughts. "I'm sorry, Harry, truly. But the idea of you going to a ball?" She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Well, on the bright side of your total lack of faith in me, I've got no expectations." She cracked up, trying to squeeze another apology in as she caught her breath. He waved it off. "It's fine, don't worry. Look, I've got to get to Potions. See you at dinner?" Still smiling.

"Yeah." He waved-since when did he do that with Hermione?-and left, glad something fun had popped up before torture-er, Potions class-started.