A/N: Sorry for the long delay; I spent the last week in Cancun so I fell behind a bit. :P Enjoy the chapter!
"I guess you better go and get your armor." - Battlefield, Jordan Sparks
Chapter 13 – Astoria Greengrass
"Ladies, just past the Three Broomsticks you will find Madam Maggie's Boutique, where you will find all gowns, masks, and accessories. Gentlemen, you will find your attire at Zorro's, a few shops down. I expect all students to report back to the main square in precisely two hours. If you are caught leaving the village for any reason, breaking school rules, or performing in manners that are neither appropriate nor acceptable, the consequences will be most severe. Do I make myself plain?"
Professor McGonagall's voice was sharp and hard, so severe that Hermione could not imagine anyone daring enough to cross her. Hermione nodded to Ginny and the two made their way to Madam Maggie's, clutching their cloaks and scarves tightly, fighting the raging wind.
The village of Hogsmeade was much like the recent Diagon Alley. The streets were mostly deserted. The scarce shoppers that remained rushed from store to store, constantly throwing anxious glances over their shoulders. Several shops were boarded up, including one of Hermione's favorites, Ludwig's Emporium. Posters of Death Eaters were plastered onto the windows like wallpaper. Hermione caught a glance at Bellatrix Lestrange's snarling face and turned away sharply.
"So why are you here?" she asked Ginny, crossing her arms to help keep warm. "I thought you went with Dean."
"Dean," Ginny scoffed. "I was going to, but I ended up in the Hospital Wing with a dreadful head cold. Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me leave and insisted there would likely be another trip to Hogsmeade for those who couldn't go."
Somehow all Hermione got from all that was the way Ginny had sneered Dean's name. "Are you and Dean okay?" she asked.
"He just won't leave me alone!" Ginny burst, sounding exasperated. "I never have a moment of rest and you know how stressful fifth year is."
Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "O.W.L.'s are critical for your selection in sixth year."
"Well," Ginny said, pondering, "I wouldn't go as extreme as you with my O.W.L.'s, but honestly…I like Dean and all but he's not—" Her voice cut off abruptly. "Where is this boutiqueanyway?"
"Just past the Three Broomsticks. We can stop in there after I suppose—Oh no!" cried Hermione.
A burst of wind took her scarf right off her shoulders. It danced wildly in the wind as she tried desperately to grab it back. The soft cotton slipped right through her fingers and it drifted away. She and Ginny took off to catch it—and then stopped dead in their tracks when it blew right onto the shoulders of a tall cloaked figure.
"Sorry!" said Hermione, but when the figure turned around, she felt herself flush.
"I suppose this belongs to you, Hermione?" Cormac smiled a wide, dazzling sort of smile that made most girls go weak at the knees.
"Yes, thank you." Cormac had a hand wrapped around the red and gold fabric, and Hermione was not sure how to snatch it back without looking rude.
"I have a tendency to be in the right place at the right time," said Cormac.
"Of course you do," said Ginny reasonably.
"Well, thanks again," said Hermione. She very smoothly caught an end of the scarf and slid it off his shoulders. It smelled of something warm and sweet when she draped it back around herself.
Cormac smiled tightly and turned his gaze on Ginny. "Who's your friend, Hermione?"
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. Who didn't know who Ginny was?
"Cormac, this is Ginny Weasley." Hermione gestured back and forth with a flippant hand. "Ginny, this is Cormac McLaggen."
"A pleasure," said Ginny. She made no move to touch him, but Cormac swooped down and scooped up her hand; Ginny's eyes widened in surprise.
"The pleasure is all mine, Ginny. You fly well, for a girl." He said it as if it were the best compliment in the world.
Ginny arched a brow. "Does that surprise you?"
"Slightly," said Cormac, giving an appreciate nod, a half smile playing at his lips.
"Well, I'm not your average girl," said Ginny. Hermione shot her a look, a warning, exasperation, she didn't know. A look, though. A look that said for her to stop.
But Ginny didn't see it, and neither did Cormac. He was grinning now, somewhere between a smile and a smirk.
"I must say, I never thought I'd meet a Weasley as desirable as you," he said, stepping back to admire her.
How forward you are! Hermione thought, fighting a blush of her own.
"Well I certainly hope not, considering I'm the only girl in the Weasley family. I think mum is a bit too old for you."
Hermione burst out laughing and Cormac's grin grew wider, his honey eyes warm, the sun gleaming off his tousled blonde hair. He was very handsome, Hermione thought, but completely rotten at the core.
"We really should get going," she said, readjusting her bag on her shoulder and shoving her hands in her pockets. Like that meant they were leaving right now.
"Of course. It was nice seeing you, Hermione," said Cormac. "You know, outside of classes. And meeting you formally, Ginny. You should teach that brother of yours how to fly."
"I'll get right on that," said Ginny, winking.
"Hermione, perhaps we could meet in the Three Broomsticks later? I bet Ginny here could down a Firewhiskey faster than half the guys in Gryffindor."
Hermione thought that was probably true. "Perhaps we'll see you around then," she said.
"I certainly hope so," said Cormac. He inclined his head, and then moved out of the way for Hermione and Ginny to pass.
Hermione waited until they were well out of earshot before she said,
"Someone was sure laying it on thick back there."
Ginny burst into a fit of laugher. "Oh come off it, Hermione! I was only joking around!"
"You were flirting," Hermione corrected.
"Why not? You're not blind to that face."
Hermione scowled. "Yes, he's gorgeous, but he's terribly arrogant and a complete prat. Besides, you should have heard what he said about—" She stopped immediately, swallowing back the words. She had not Ron or Ginny about what Cormac had said. About their amount of money.
"What he said about what?" Ginny prodded.
"Nothing. It doesn't matter. Look, we're here." She took three giant steps, larger than she would have liked, and opened the heavy door to Madam Maggie's.
The boutique was larger on the inside than it looked on the outside. There were two floors stacked with gowns, shoes, jewelry, and accessories. Although Hogsmeade was currently not very crowded, the entire women population seemed to harbor in Madam Maggie's. Witches were yanking off dresses from the racks, examining earrings and necklaces in floor length mirrors, waltzing around in high heels.
Ginny looked around in awe, her hazel eyes glowing with delight. Hermione was not as thrilled. It would take ages to find the perfect dress in a store this size.
"Where should we start?" asked Hermione, staring around hopelessly.
"Look, there's a sign." Ginny pointed for emphasis. "The floors are arranged by size. I'm a 6 and I suspect you're the same or close, which is upstairs."
Hermione nodded. She was a size 4.
Ginny led them up the stairs, and to the right side of the store. The second floor was nearly as packed with gowns as the first. Hermione instinctively reached out and stroked the soft, silk fabric in front of her. The red dress hanging on the rack was stunning, silky and smooth. If only red didn't make her look so…
"Hermione, look at this one," called Ginny, from a few racks down. She held out a long, gold silk gown. It was very simple, with a plunging neckline, but beautiful.
"Try it on Ginny," said Hermione. "Gold would look lovely with your skin."
Ginny snorted. "My skin? Are you taking pointers from Cormac?"
Hermione scowled at her, but a tiny pop! made them both jump.
"May I start a fitting room for you dear?" asked a short, plump woman wearing white robes. Her hair was brown with streaks of grey, teased beyond exception, bordering the style of a well-mannered peacock.
"Please," said Ginny, handing over the gown.
The woman smiled. "I'm Mary and I would be pleased to assist you both. Whenever you find a gown you wish to try on, just say my name. You'll be in room nine," she said, nodding to Ginny. She turned to Hermione. "And you'll be in room ten."
When Mary vanished, Hermione turned to Ginny and said, "Well this sure beats the Muggle way of shopping."
A half hour later found both girls in dressing in rooms nine and ten. Hermione laughed for a good five minutes, and was still laughing, when Ginny nearly had a break down because she couldn't get a blue satin dress up her thighs. It wasn't until Hermione—afraid Ginny might cause damage to the dressing room—came inside, inspected the dress, and found it was actually a size 2.
The best part of Madam Maggie's was the gowns itself because they were not ordinary. The gowns were bewitched to alter according to their wearer. Each gown was made in a basic size, which would then transform once worn to adjust to the user's height, slenderness, and so to say, bust size. They didn't' appear to adjust completely for size, which was why Ginny's 2 would not fit. Hermione had decided this sort of magic probably increased the price, but decided not to have a look until she had no other choice.
"I'm going to see what else I can find," said Hermione, popping her head into room nine. Ginny nodded in response, but was too distracted by the altering of a now sea green dress to really notice; her gaze was locked on the mirror, watching the magic of the dress work.
Hermione walked through the various aisles on the second floor absentmindedly, her hand touching each dress on the way, feeling the different textures and styles when suddenly, she stopped. A silver gown caught her attention. The style of the gown brought back a strong memory of her favorite childhood fairytale, Beauty and the Beast. It was on its own rack, the last of its kind.
Hermione walked dreamlessly toward the gown, as if it was calling her name. In a world full of magic, it wasn't a farfetched idea. Her hand clasped around the hanger tightly when suddenly, another hand gripped the other end.
"Oh, sorry!" said the two girls in unison.
Hermione recognized the girl immediately by the familiar dark hair and green eyes. Astoria Greengrass. Their gazes locked, fierce for a moment, and then Astoria sighed.
"You try it on," she said. "You had it first."
Normally, Hermione would have been polite and offer the gown but Astoria was right: she had grabbed it first. And it was just too pretty to pass up.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, not really caring about Astoria's answer, but decided it was still polite.
"I insist," reassured Astoria, taking a step back. She fluffed her dark curls over a shoulder and smiled, flashing brilliant white teeth.
Hermione was just about to say thank you when Astoria added, "Besides, the color will contrast nicely with your hair, taking the attention away from it."
It was very strange, Hermione thought. While her tone suggested it was a compliment, the words were sugar coated as an insult. She had no reason to insult Hermione, and that alone confused her and left her a little speechless. If that wasn't enough, Astoria ran another hand through her perfect dark curls.
Hermione heaved the heavy dress off the rack; her shoulder nearly came out of socket.
"Thanks again," she said, turning, heading back to the dressing rooms. Astoria's voice carried over the busy shoppers.
"I believe you're going with Draco, correct?"
Hermione paused and readjusted her hold on the dress. She really needed to call Mary; the dress was starting to hurt her arms from its weight.
She turned around.
"Yes, I am." Like a have another choice, she thought.
Astoria laughed, the sound so shrilling it could rival Pansy, and that was saying something. Hermione cringed from the sound of it.
"I hope his dancing has improved," said Astoria.
"Improved?"
"Oh yes," Astoria mused, another casual flip of her hair. "Our lessons over the summer were dreadful. He stepped on my feet I don't know how many times."
Hermione was not sure what she was feeling, how to take in this strange bit of news, and did not recognize her voice when she said, "You took dance lessons with Malfoy?"
Just saying that sentence, with the words in that order, made no sense to her.
"Well, of course," said Astoria. "If I'm going to marry him, he better know how to dance at our wedding."
"Marry him?" Hermione choked out.
Astoria looked both scandalized and devilishly thrilled. "Well, of course. We have an arranged marriage for when I turn eighteen. That's in just three short years!"
Hermione couldn't hide her shocked face if she tried. Malfoy was…engaged? Well, not technically, but wasn't betrothed practically the same thing? Hermione supposed she shouldn't be surprised—it was common for old Pureblood families to continue arranging their marriages. Otherwise the bloodline could be ruined by "dirty blood" like halfbloods and mudbloods or worse—muggles.
It wasn't that surprising, Hermione decided, but why couldn't she say anything?
Astoria stood patiently, those red lips parting slowly into a grin. The silence made it all worse, somehow, because Hermione was never this speechless. And really, she should be able to say something.
Finally, she found her voice. "I'm shocked, obviously," she said. "I would have never pictured it."
Astoria looked amused and irritatingly pretty. "Pictured what?"
Malfoy betrothed. Malfoy being with any girl other than Pansy Parkinson, Hermione thought honestly. She had never seen him interested in anyone but her, and even then, it seemed like nothing but convenience. Malfoy didn't seem interested in anyone, though.
Hermione's thoughts came on in a garbled, "You're not Pansy."
Astoria's smile vanished immediately, her pale face going slack. Then, just as quickly, those green eyes burned with heated emotion. Before she could say anything, Ginny had appeared through the racks of dresses, looking breathless.
"There you are," she said. "I was looking everywhere for you! What are you—"
Ginny's voice broke off as she glanced between the two girls. Or, more likely, noticed the icy temperature around Astoria's form.
"No, I'm not," said Astoria calmly, "because if I was, then I'd be a single little twat just like her."
Hermione and Ginny both gasped. No, Hermione did not like Pansy, but that insult was harsh. And vulgar. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to relieve the weight of the dress.
"I suppose I better find a substitute," Astoria went on, nodding toward the dress in Hermione's grasp. "Tell Draco to save me a dance or two and be sure to cut back on the pumpkin pasties." She gave a small, knowing smile. "You know what I mean—the fabric is so delicate."
Another backwards insult. Ginny did not miss it, either, and fumbled for her wand, but Hermione bumped into her so hard that Ginny scowled at her instead.
"I'm not sure that I do," Hermione replied icily, "but we really must get going. I'll be sure to relay the message, Victoria, goodbye." She grabbed Ginny by the arm and dragged her away, back to the safety of the dressing rooms.
Both girls clambered into room nine, shutting the door behind them. Ginny was rolling with laugher when she sat on the bench.
"Did you see her face when you called her Victoria? Oh, that was great, Hermione!"
"Well, that girl is foul," said Hermione resolutely, still a little flushed in the face. She started to strip out of her clothes.
"Well I'd know, wouldn't I? She's in my year. Who did she call a—?"
"Pansy Parkinson." Hermione made a face. She stepped into the silver gown and started to pull it up, shimmying and shaking all the way.
"Oh," said Ginny knowingly. "Because of Malfoy."
Hermione whirled around, clutching the bodice to her chest. "Did you know they were betrothed?"
"Well, yeah. Everyone in my year likely does. Astoria hasn't shut up about it all year. Apparently she was never allowed to talk about it until now. I can't believe it hasn't reached your year by now."
Hermione frowned. "Help me with this, will you?"
Ginny laced up the back of the bodice; as soon as it was tied up, the gown started to adjust itself. Around the bust line and waist, it tightened, the bottom of the dress shortening to adjust to Hermione's height.
Hermione watched in the mirror, fascinated. It was even more beautiful on, glittering and shimmering, the dress of an icy princess. Glass beading with silver sequins, and French lace covered the corset. From the waist down were layers of silver tulle, thin and sheer.
Almost instantly, Hermione loved it.
But now came the worst part. She hesitantly asked Ginny for the price, since the tag was tucked away in the back where she could not see it.
"…galleons," Ginny muttered.
"What?"
"Seventy galleons."
Hermione stared. "Seventy galleons! That's…" she took a moment to do the mental math, and then gasped. "That's around three hundred and fifty pounds! No. No. I cannot justify this."
"How many galleons did you bring?"
"About eighty, I think," muttered Hermione. "But that's supposed to last all year and I just can't…"
It wasn't only the fact that seventy galleons was a lot of money, but the fact that Hermione did not want to spend that kind of money in front of Ginny.
But, when Ginny looked at her, she didn't seem bothered by that fact. If anything, she looked determined that Hermione buy it.
"It is a lot of money, but what else are you going to spend it on? If you have it…" she shrugged. "If you have it, you might as well buy it. And if you put it back, then Astoria will buy it."
"I'll take this gown."
"Excellent choice dear," said the short, elder woman at the counter. "That'll be seventy galleons, please."
Hermione cringed, but slid the neatly stacked galleons across the table. She couldn't remember the last time she spent so much money. She wanted to cry.
Ginny ended up choosing a much less expensive, sold black gown that clung to her body perfectly and dipped down a little lower than Ron would want from his baby sister. Ginny offered to let Hermione borrow a pair of dress shoes, since they nearly wore the same size. Hermione was relieved that meant she didn't have to worry about having her mum owl a pair here.
But seventy galleons..
Hermione shook herself. She would just forget about the price. Maybe it was selfish but she just couldn't let Astoria have it. There was no logical reason why..only that it was something that only another female would understand. Ginny understood. Maybe her mum—no. No, Elizabeth Granger was a practical woman, who would never dream of spending such money on a gown.
But Astoria was so foul!
Hermione decided to stop dwelling on it. What's done is done. She settled back in her room, about to do a little late reading, when she glanced at her watch and gasped at the time.
"Oh no!" she cried, turning in circles, a palm smacked to her forehead. "I'm so late! Where is that list?"
She arrived at the Transfiguration classroom ten minutes later, panicked and anxious, the guest list in clenched in one hand. It was not like her to be the last to arrive to class, let alone a Prefect meeting. She nearly plowed over Eddie when she burst through the door, red faced and breathless.
"I'm so sorry! I was in Hogsmeade with Professor McGonagall getting things for the ball," she gasped out. "I must have lost track of time."
"Oh, did you buy your gown?" Padma asked, eyes bright.
"What does it look like?" Hannah piped in.
"What took you so long?"
Hermione did not like the suspicious tone that Ron had used. "I don't see how that concerns you, Ronald."
He opened his mouth and his face flushed, but Eddie called for attention before he could say anything else.
"Do you have the guest list, Hermione?"
"Yes, of course," she said, smoothing it out on the desk before handing it over. She cast a fleeting glance at Malfoy, saw Astoria, heard the word betrothed, and hastily looked away before he could even make eye contact with her. "S-so far there are one-hundred and ninety eight guests in attendance—not counting staff."
"Excellent, I'll send this to Professor Dumbledore." He looked up at Ernie. "Have you and Pansy arranged the entertainment?"
"Yes, I took the liberty of sending an owl to my father. He's friends with Axel of the Weird Sisters. They agreed to play at the ball. I told them to arrive half past eight. Pansy" — his voice broke off as he shot a hesitant glance her way — "agreed to show them where to set up."
Pansy flipped a hand in agreement, looking bored. Hermione couldn't look at Pansy for more than a second without looking away, thinking of what Astoria had said.
"Okay, great," said Eddie. He turned to Hannah and Anthony. "Have you two discussed how you're going to set up the decorations?"
"Yeah…well…" Anthony scratched his head "We have most of the stuff done, really. It'll take some time placing the decorations around the room but we'll get it done. No worries."
"Excellent. Well it seems we are all up to speed here. I was afraid we'd fall behind without—" Eddie cut off abruptly, his shoulders drooped, and he looked terribly miserable.
"How is she, Eddie?" Hermione asked softly.
No one needed to ask who she was.
"I…haven't heard much," he said. "Her sister, Isabelle, returned my owl the other day. She's in St. Mungo's right now…but Isabelle seems to think she's going to be okay. Lucky Harry and Ron were able to get help so quickly…" he cast Ron a wary, grateful smile, in which Ron nodded and swallowed a little uncomfortably.
"She'll be okay," said Hannah, reaching out to pat Eddie on the shoulder.
"Yeah, well, we should get back to business. I think we should plan on having everything set up by six so everyone has time to get ready….Hermione? You and Malfoy will stand at the front doors and check guests off the list. I'll be sending out name cards for those on the list. Make sure they give them to you when they check in. No name card, no entry."
Hermione nodded, whipping out parchment and quill to jot it all down.
"And don't forget—we're supposed to open with our dance after dinner, so if you're still lost, you better find McGonagall."
Just like that, Hermione felt her heart sink.
A/N: Thank you for reading and for such great reviews! I'm thrilled you all are enjoying this so much. ;) I made Astoria a little too nasty to Hermione the first time I wrote this. Nasty without reason. I like this version better. :P Have any of you seen The Hunger Games yet? I went at midnight and was very impressed! Alexander Ludwig totally blew me away with his last speech. *sniffs* Excellent casting, all around.
Review Responses:
Iris: "I'll go back an re-read the story, but I wanted to just tell you what a great job you did, and how much I love your version of book six." - Thank you so much! And thanks for re-reading it. I think this version is much better so far. I found some areas where Hermione and others were OOC and now I get to fix it. :D
Melanie666: "I am positively surprised that you include Astoria in your story." - Yeah I really wanted to bring her to life in this since you know, she IS his canon wife. :P The term of the "arranged marriage" come into play soon. :)
Eve: "Please please please put up Wanted!" - I really, really wish I could right now! But it's not finished and if I post, I'll feel obligated to keep updating for readers. And I just can't have that many novels going at once without going crazy. Right now I'm focusing on two and it's tough enough, lol. Hopefully in the future, though!
Rilla: "AND I LOVED LOVED LOVED the Neville/Luna moment where he's taking her to the ball!" - Thank you! I so wanted them to get together in the books. But you know, I can live with it since it does seem to happen in the movie. I was beyond thrilled.
Karen: " i wish u could also write thru dracos point of view on hermione!" - There are a couple chapters in Draco's point of view, later down the road. ;) But I usually refrain from doing that because I like the suspense of only knowing what's going on in one character's head. It doesn't seem fair that readers know what Draco is thinking if Hermione doesn't. :P