Jealousy pooled hotly in Harry's facial features. It made his eyes grow dark and his whole demeanor sucked the energy out of all things happy around him, reminding Hermione very much of a Dementor.
His eyes were focused on a couple across the glowing fire. The Savior himself was snuggled up next to a redhead, but his mind was much elsewhere. Hermione notice Harry's line of fire was scorching the most likely future Malfoy's, Malfoy himself plus Parkinson.
Hermione's mouth twitched to one side, she was never partaken to Pansy, or really any Slytherin. None of them seemed genuine enough to her, perhaps intellectually compatible, but she thought the personality average was too atrocious.
Harry's eyes closed in brief annoyance when Ginny attempted—Holy Godric—to slither her freckled hand into the Harry's trousers! Oh, my. Hermione thought with a flush. Oddly enough, Malfoy also had a response to this, silently of course.
His moon colored eyes narrowed in…equal envy to Harry, perhaps even rivaled it.
"You okay, 'Mione?" Her own Weasley asked her.
"Yeah..." You know, just finding out the crush of a century. Oh, no, how could this night get any worse?
"Ginevra, you little ginger whore get your hand off of my property!
Shouldn't have said that…,Hermione sighed.