The fairy lights swirled prettily above the heads of the guests, creating the effect of a million stars against the dark ceiling. Hermione was pleased with the decorations; the planners of the ball had outdone themselves this year. This might have to do with the fact that her and her twin brother were eighteen and finally able to locate their soulmates. At that thought, she reached up to the elaborate but unremovable mask that covered her face. She knew what it looked like, of course, even though she couldn't see it on her own face without a mirror. She had spent most of her eighteenth birthday memorising the golden curlicues that traced over a white background. She wasn't going to run the risk of missing her soulmate because she didn't recognise their mask.

She stood beside Harry at the edge of the dancing crowd. Reaching for his hand, she tried to transfer as much confidence and assurance as she could through a single squeeze. She knew how these events made him nervous. As the crown prince of the Kingdom of Hogwarts, many more eyes would be on him this evening than her. Everyone wanted to be the one to witness their future king and queen's first meeting.

Of course, it wasn't guaranteed either of them would meet their soulmates at the ball, but there was a good chance. Every citizen of Hogwarts was invited, and even some nobles from other kingdoms were there as guests.

The crier cleared his throat to announce them. Her eyes were drawn away from him, though, by a familiar flash of gold. Could it be…?

The dancer that had caught her eye was facing away from her now, and before she could get a good look at his mask, he was lost in the sea of people.

Her heart began to make double time at the prospect of her soulmate actually being in the same room as her. Sure, she could prepare herself by reading books and researching everything she could find about soulmates, but the reality was much more euphoric than she had expected.

She almost barged into the foray of twirling dancers before she regained her senses. If she really had seen her soulmate, she would most likely see him again throughout the evening, where she would have a more opportune moment to meet him. She most certainly wasn't avoiding him because a sudden wave of nerves washed over her. No, she was waiting for the best moment to talk to him for the first time.

She tuned back in to her surroundings to find Sir Neville talking to her brother. She noticed the way his shoulders relaxed when conversing with one of his best friends, and that made her relax, too. Neville then turned to her and bowed offering his hand.

"May I have the first dance, my lady?" he asked courteously.

She curtsied and accepted his hand. He led her onto the dance floor and gave her an experimental twirl before getting into position to start the dance.

Their time passed in a flurry of laughter and easy chatter. Before she knew it, their dance was over, and Neville was saying, "Well, I'd best be off. I believe my lovely lady Ginevra is waiting for a dance with me," he said, and motioned to where his soulmate was standing by the doors, having just arrived. "And it looks like someone is waiting for you as well."

Hermione turned quizzically, not knowing who he was referring to. She nearly gasped when she saw the suited man leaning casually against the wall, his eyes trained on her. It was him.

The mask that she had memorised looked strange on another's face. She watched as he pushed off the wall, then took a few steps forward to match his advancement from where he had been standing. It was like two magnets, both pulling with equal force. The whole ballroom had disappeared from around her, and it was only her and him.

When they finally arrived face to face, he gave a graceful bow and extended his hand. "Care to dance, Your Highness?" His voice was a touch gravelly, yet sweet as honey. She couldn't tear her eyes off him. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand in his.

At the contact of their skin, a shimmering sparkle surrounded them and the masks dissipated from their faces. Hermione took a second to admire how handsome he was. Then she had to remember how to breathe, because his hand was on her waist and he was very much in her personal space. She found that she didn't mind, however; there was something about his presence that made her feel comfortable and calm.

"Where are my manners?" her partner asked as they began the dance. "I haven't even introduced myself. Cedric Diggory, at your service."

Her heart fluttered at the sincerity in his eyes. Even though they had just met, he looked ready to do anything in his power for her.

"I'm Hermione, but you probably already knew that. And you can skip all the "Your Highness" this and "Princess Hermione" that. We're soulmates, for goodness' sake, we should be able to address each other by our first names. And also, just so you know, I don't care about your social status and neither does my family. You could be a prince or a farmer, and it wouldn't make me any difference." She paused, feeling heat creeping up her cheeks. "Sorry, I tend to ramble sometimes."

"Don't apologise!" Cedric exclaimed. "It shows you're passionate about the things you believe in. Also, I think it's cute."

By now she was full on blushing, but she couldn't help the tiny smile that bloomed on her lips. She was glad her soulmate was someone like Cedric, who accepted her quirks, even enjoyed them.

All too soon, their dance was over. She felt a spidery crack through her heart when she realised their time together was over, but it quickly mended when Cedric raised her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, my lovely Hermione," he said. "And while I would love to dance the night away with you, it might be unseemly to keep you all to myself. However, I look forward greatly to our next dance together."

With that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Hermione absently running her fingers over the knuckles of her right hand and with the promise of a dance in the near future.