1 Hour : 0 Minutes : Twenty Five Seconds
( Hermione Granger )
After spending a half-hour dressing for the Yule Ball, Hermione has had a little time to process her feelings. She turns in her full-lenght mirror, enjoying the sight of herself in the dark blue dress, the folds of silk rippling down to the floor, the neaklace and earrings to match the turquoise stones sewn into her dress. But she cannot see her earrings, since she has let her long brown hair fall freely. She had planned to style it into an updo, but something told her to leave it the way it was. It made her seem more carefree, younger even. She sits down on her bed, her head in her hands, not caring that she was probably smearing her carefully-applied makeup. She knows that Ron and Harry are probably plotting ways to get even with Malfoy in their dormitory. Of course, they think it was a trick. Hermione frowned at herself. They're boys. They tended to assume such things. And Hermione half-believes it herself. It seems like something Malfoy would do. However, Draco's anguished voice plays over and over in her mind, and she can't ignore feeling that sa this time, it was something real.
But then again, why should she believe him? What had he ever done besides make her life miserable? Hermione dons her heels and walks out of the dormitory, head held high. It was nothing but a stupid trick, she reasures herself. Malfoy would go with Parkinson, and she would dance with no one. She had, of course, been planning to go with Ronald. But did he ask her? No. See, that's how boys are, she says to herself. But why, then, had she felt pity for Draco? Why, at one point, did she consider saying yes?