The day was moving by slowly. Hermione had risen at sunrise that morning, anxious to do as much research as possible before whatever trial awaited her that evening. The rest of the girls had slept till about noon, some of them having drank too liberally of the elderflower wine the previous night. To her credit, Hermione had been able to finish the thick Sylvan book at last, but still felt the hours stretch before her.
As soon as the others had made it to the common living areas of the castle that afternoon, Hermione had attempted to hold a lecture. It wasn't fair she was the only one who had some information on what they would be going up against. However, the other girls seemed none too interested in Hermione's teachings.
"You've already told us," Parvati had protested. "The trial is made up of tasks, blah blah blah…"
"Yes, but nobody is listening to me," Hermione demanded, scanning the room. Ginny was smiling kindly at her friend, though she did look a bit bored. The Olivia girl was listening patiently, obviously being polite. But Hermione could tell not a one of them was actually retaining the information she was trying to pass on.
There had been a moment when Lavender had shown a modicum of interest. An entire chapter had been devoted to the subject of love and the blond girl had swooned at the thought.
"How romantic," Lavender had said, reading aloud from the book. "'The magical components of true love have been used in several elements of the Sylvan kingdom, which gives strength to the natural compassion and empathy that makes the Sylvan court so powerful.' Oh, isn't it romantic?"
Hermione had tried to explain to the girls that this wasn't exactly relevant to what they were discussing, but no one paid her any attention. The afternoon had spiraled out of her control after that.
Now, Hermione sat quietly in her bedroom. She was dressed and ready for the evening, just waiting for an attendant to come tell her they were ready for her. Her heartbeat quickened as she began to think about what the night would bring. Everything had happened so fast, and for the first time since the whole scheme had been revealed to her, she felt afraid.
In truth, she'd been trying to keep herself busy all day to avoid thinking about Ron. Last night he had been making some sort of attempt at reconciliation, she could at least tell that. But then the moment had been ruined, once again. She just wished the two of them could get to the point where they could say what they mean to one another. This second guessing would be the undoing of her. And now, she was going to have to watch Ron walk across a ballroom with Lavender Brown on his arm.
"Hermione?" Ginny asked, peeking her head through the bedroom door. "They're ready for us."
Hermione nodded and stood to follow her friend to the hallway. There were the other girls, all looking beautiful of course. Hermione took her position in line, standing behind Anastasia and just in front of Lavender. Ginny and the rest of the ladies in waiting were in an identical line beside them. The ladies in waiting walked ahead then, led by a small attendant down a stairway that would bring them to the grand ballroom. Hermione knew each of the girls would be met by their escort there and she could just picture how handsome Harry would look, waiting there patiently for Ginny.
As Hermione waited with the other candidates for her turn to walk, she heard Lavender whisper behind her.
"I saw Viktor Krum here last night, Hermione. Is he going to be your escort?"
Hermione shook her head no and continued to look straight ahead.
"Why not? He's a dreamboat!"
"He's not who I wanted, Lavender. I'm tired of taking second best."
With that, an attendant motioned for the candidates to move forward, and Hermione began walking forward to meet her fate, whatever it may be.
Ron stood at the bottom of a grand staircase, the steps trimmed in thick, purple carpeting. They were in a ballroom that shone with gold, candles lighting up the room and confetti falling sporadically throughout the place. Hundreds of people milled about, including several familiar faces. He'd recognized some Hogwarts professors and Lee Jordan was once again gracing them all with his presence. He'd seen Luna and Neville earlier and assumed Ginny or Hermione had invited them.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt, the nice one his mother had insisted he wear. This whole thing was getting ridiculous. He'd seen Ginny come down with those other girls already. His sister had looked pretty and giggled as Harry took her arm at the bottom of the steps, leading her away. It may have been his imagination but he could have sworn he saw her scowl at him as she walked by.
The princess candidates began walking down one by one then and Ron urged them to move faster, anxious to get this over with. That one they called Olivia came down first and a young man stepped up to escort her off. Ron scanned the room, noticing Krum standing alone at a table. That's funny, Ron thought. Shouldn't he be up here, ready to greet Hermione?
Ron was pulled from his thoughts upon hearing Hermione's name being called. He looked back to the stairway, immediately seeing her at the top of the steps. Her hair had been let down for the evening, a few pieces pulled back around her face and braided with flowers. The rest of her curls fell gracefully in front of her shoulders and back. Her dress was a brilliant silver that sparkled as she moved, highlighting the planes of her shoulders and contours of her waist. Ron wondered for a moment if they'd somehow turned Hermione into a veela. She was the most beautiful thing in the room.
Ron gulped as Hermione walked down the stairs. For a moment, he caught her eye. They watched each other as Hermione continued further and further down the steps, and Ron could almost pretend she was walking toward him.
Then, Hermione turned away and the illusion was shattered. Ron watched as she moved left toward whoever was waiting to escort her off.
"My lady," George Weasley said with a low bow. When did he get there?
"Your very flattered last resort is humbled to serve you."
Hermione laughed slightly and smiled as George stood and took her arm, leading her away. Ron watched them as they left, only coming back to Earth when he heard Lavender's name loudly announced.
"Bollocks," Ron cursed under his breath. There she was, blond and giddy as ever, walking quickly toward him. Ron held out his arm and moved Lavender briskly away. Over his shoulder he noticed the last girl descending and hoped it meant this whole display was about to be done.
"Okay, so, I'm gonna go get a drink or something," Ron said in a rush.
"Oh, don't Ronnie! The music's starting now, it's time for the first dance."
"Riiiiiiight," Ron drawled out. He looked around wildly, desperate for a way out. "The thing is, I'm not really…what I mean is I can't…"
Ron was saved from his ramblings by a hand on his shoulder. He looked to see Harry standing there, a wide smile on his face.
"Sorry to interrupt, but Lavender, I'd really love a dance."
"Oh," Lavender replied, clearly taken aback. "Okay, Harry."
Harry led Lavender to the dance floor, nodding at Ron in a direction behind his shoulder. Ron looked behind him, noticing Ginny there, watching the display. Turning fully around, Ron began a slow walk toward his sister.
"You put him up to that?" he asked, coming to stand beside her
"I did," she replied. "Thought it was the least I could do."
"Why's that?"
Ginny looked guiltily back at him.
"I was the one who owled Viktor to come."
Ron glared at his sister and crossed his arms.
"Well that was very helpful."
Ginny shrugged her shoulders in response.
"Anyway, this song's almost over and then I'm going to dance with my boyfriend. Lavender's going to be looking for a partner, so I suggest you find something, or someone," Ginny said, gesturing toward Hermione, "to occupy your time with."
Ginny walked away then, leaving Ron by himself. He gazed back toward Hermione, noting unpleasantly that she was no longer alone. The Bulgarian git had made a beeline toward Hermione. He watched as Krum made an obvious show of asking her to dance then led Hermione to the dance floor.
Ron sighed in frustration and sunk into an empty seat at the table behind him. A short waiter walked by with a tray of fire whiskey and Ron motioned him over. He grabbed two small glasses of the stuff, letting the waiter know he should return back soon. He downed the first in one gulp then sat staring at the second. He frowned into the glass, as if it was somehow to blame for his troubles.
"Mind if I sit here?"
Ron looked up to see that Leopold fellow standing above him. Ron gave a noncommittal shrug and Leopold took it as an invitation. Settling himself in next to Ron, the older man reached for a large golden goblet filled with elderflower wine.
"Are you having a nice time?" Leopold asked amicably.
"Yeah, it's great," Ron said sarcastically. He eyed Hermione as Viktor Krum moved her stiffly around the dance floor.
"So, then, not having a nice time," Leopold replied, following Ron's gaze. The two watched the dancing couple for a moment, the younger man looking disgusted, the older looking amused.
"You know, I was quite excited to meet you in person," Leopold said finally, reclining in his chair.
"How do you mean?" Ron asked distractedly.
"In following Hermione's case I've come to learn a lot about the people she spends time with. For example, I know an astonishing amount of information about young Mr. Potter. And you, of course."
Ron's head jerked toward Leopold at that, the older man having finally got his attention.
"Yeah, like what?"
Leopold paused, clearly pondering his catalog of internal information.
"Well, I understand you're quite afraid of spiders."
Ron snickered in response.
"A whole magical library of information in front of you, and the best thing you know about me is I'm a coward. Says a lot about me."
Leopold was quiet, considering what Ron had just said.
"Actually," he said slowly. "I think it's a very remarkable thing to know about you."
Ron raised an eyebrow and Leopold smiled kindly at the young man. He looked back out at Hermione on the dance floor before continuing.
"You're an individual who is deathly afraid of spiders. And yet, at the very young age of thirteen years old, you faced an entire army of acromantula, just to retrieve a venom to save the life of one young girl."
Leopold looked back at Ron as he finished speaking.
"I think that says a great deal more about you than you think."
Ron didn't know why, but he suddenly felt a very strong urge to cry. He wished this man would leave him alone, let him sulk in private. In fact, he wished the whole world would just let him be.
"Yeah, well," Ron said, giving a short cough. "Doesn't matter now, does it?"
Leopold stared evenly at him for a few seconds then pulled a pocket watch from his gold tunic. Checking the time, the man rose from his seat, still holding his goblet of wine.
"I have to be going, there's not much time now," he said before turning to leave.
"Oh, and Ron?" Leopold said, as if remembering something. "Ask her to dance. Trust me, it still matters."
Ron frowned at the strange man's back as he walked away from him. Of all the things Ron had planned to do that evening, dancing had not been one of them. Ron remembered that time at Bill's wedding, when he'd actually found the nerve to share a dance with Hermione. Come and dance. That was a wonderful way to ask a girl for a turn on the floor. He hadn't even asked, actually, more like demanded.
Ron watched Hermione on the other side of the room now. Her dance with Viktor had ended and she was standing alone, sipping from a glass of punch. She looked so innocent to him just then and something moved inside him. Without actual knowledge of the action, he was suddenly standing. His feet carried him step by step across the room until he found himself smack in front of her.
"Hello, Ron."
Ron froze, wracking his brains for something to say. Why did I come over here? He heard the first few notes of a slow song playing and saw Hermione watching him thoughtfully.
Remembering that last dance and wanting so much to do better, to be better for her, he looked her in the eyes and said as carefully as possible: "Will you dance with me?"