Disclaimer: Rowling's Second Law states that you do NOT talk about Duelling Club—oh, wait, wrong story.

A/N: Wow, I'm amazed by the very positive response to Hermione/George. While not universally accepted, nearly all of the reviewers approved, and I'm glad you see the potential the same way I do.

Chapter 74

"So that's the situation," Hermione said.

Septima Vector had listened patiently while Hermione explained her progress on her transfiguration project. It was not going as well as the girl had hoped, but the fact that she even had a plan was stunning. It looked like she had the arithmantic side pretty well sewn up. She just needed to connect it with transfiguration theory to complete the proof. Septima didn't fully understand the group theory techniques, yet, although she was sure she could with more work, but the outline looked surprisingly convincing.

"Do you think Professor McGonagall would be able to help out?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I certainly think she would be willing," Septima said. "Of course, Minerva has other obligations. To be honest, I don't know how she manages a full teaching load, head of house, and Deputy Headmistress as it is, not to mention the Tournament this year."

"That's what I was worried about…Quite frankly, Septima, there have been times when I felt like she wasn't able to give her full attention to her students." There is no danger to the Philosopher's Stone; now go away before I take points came to mind. "In most muggle schools, the Deputy Head is a separate position. That might be something worth considering."

"Hmm…perhaps, although I don't know how well she would take it. In any case, I do see a couple problems with your outline."

"Oh?"

"Yes, the first is the potassium chloride. You know about the technical problems with transfiguring a pure substance like that. It's really closer to alchemy than transfiguration. But you could cut through some of those problems by using a more common and "classical" form of the element such as lye or saltpetre."

Hermione smacked her forehead: "I can't believe I never thought of that! I should be able to get saltpetre without much trouble." She scribbled some notes. "That will definitely simplify things. What was the other problem?"

"Not so much a problem; it's just that I'm not sure Minerva is the best person to help you in the first place."

"Why not?"

"Because Minerva is very gifted in transfiguration, but she focuses on more conventional aspects of the field: animation, conjuring, that sort of thing, and more on practical application than theory—it's an advantage for a teacher. In order to work with pure substances and heavy theoretical work, you would need to talk to either the Headmaster or…"

"Or whom?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I happen to know one student who is very gifted and is probably more than Professor McGonagall's match at alchemical theory. And I think she would be interested in helping you if you asked nicely."

"Really? Who is it?"

Hermione took a deep breath and said, "Hello, Rebecca."

Rebecca Gamp looked up from her book. She was studying with some of the seventh-year Arithmancy students, having also skipped a year in the class. Her eyes narrowed. "Hello, Granger," she said.

Hermione suppressed a sigh. She really wished they could be cordial about all this. There was a reason she hadn't wanted to bring this up before the ball. "Rebecca, Professor Vector recommended you to me, and I wanted to ask for your help," she said.

"You want my help?" the older girl said incredulously. "Why?"

"Because I'm working on a new project that I can't finish alone."

"Oh, you finally found something the Great Arithmancer can't do on her own?"

Hermione tried not to grumble. Rebecca's jealousy had been a thorn in her side all last year, and she had a feeling she would try to make this unpleasant. She really hoped she wouldn't act like that herself if their positions were reversed. "Yes, I did, Rebecca, and Professor Vector said you were the best person to help me."

"Huh…Nope, not interested," Rebecca said, flipping her hair and returning to her studying.

"You didn't even listen to what I'm doing yet," Hermione protested.

"So?"

"So, aren't you interested in what amazing breakthrough I'm about to make—that I want to bring you in on the ground floor."

"Not really."

"But—"

"I am doing fine here, Granger. I think I'll just let you keep your own little project and see how you can make out with it."

Why am I doing this, again? "Hmph," Hermione said, crossing her arms. She walked on, as if intending to continue deeper into the library, but then, at the last moment, she turned around and stood behind Rebecca's chair, where she bent down and whispered something in her ear, before walking away.

Rebecca's eyes flew wide open. After only a moment's consideration, she stood up and followed Hermione without a word, leaving her study group saying, "What? What is it? What did she say?"

Hermione had gone to a secluded corner at the back of the library and waited for Rebecca to follow. After all, she knew that Rebecca Gamp couldn't resist the five little words she'd whispered in her ear: "Sixth Exception to Gamp's Law."

Sure enough, the Ravenclaw was right behind her. "Alright, Granger, you've got my attention," she said.

"Good. I'm in need of someone with an excellent knowledge of transfiguration and alchemy theory."

"To prove a sixth exception to Gamp's Law?" Rebecca clarified.

"Yes. I assume you're familiar with the major theories?"

Rebecca took a deep breath and seemed to resist making a cutting remark. She nodded.

"I believe I can prove that radioactive materials are not transfigurable."

"Radioactivity? That's, like, the most esoteric one—well, besides love. How can you prove that?"

Hermione pulled out her notebook and held it open for her. "I've been working with some advanced maths called group theory, which relates to the muggle understanding of radioactivity. I just don't have the knowledge of transfiguration to do an exhaustive search for a solution. I was hoping you could figure out that part of it. Look, here are the magical fields for some assorted radioisotopes. We need to show that—"

"That they're not valid fields for the substance terms of transfiguration spells as a class," Rebecca finished. Hermione gave her a surprised look. "Give me some credit, Granger. I told you I know my family history. I know all about the exceptions to Gamp's Law. I could recite the proof for the non-transfigurability of gold in my sleep. It's generalising that to all precious metals that's the hard part. Now, if I understand your work here, we need to construct analogous arguments to both of those proofs to demonstrate the non-transfigurability of radioactivity. But what's this here about saltpetre?"

"Saltpetre is the simplest test case."

"How's so?"

"Saltpetre contains potassium, and natural potassium is 0.012% radioactive. I have a muggle device that can detect whether the radioactive component is present."

"Are you serious, Granger?"

"Completely."

"So you have a substance that's partly radioactive," Rebecca reasoned. "Then we should only be able to transfigure the part of it that's not…and if we compare the magical fields to a control substance that's all transfigurable…Morgana's locks, we could really do this! This could be the discovery of the century! I mean, Wenlock Prize and Gamp Prize. Maybe even Order of Merlin, Third Class."

"Don't count your owls before they're delivered, Rebecca," Hermione said with a smile. "So are you in?"

Rebecca paused. "Will you give me first author?" she asked.

She rolled her eyes at her: "Can you do group theory?"

"Can you do alchemy?"

"Probably better than you can do group theory, at this point."

They stared at each other in silence.

"I'll guarantee you second author," Hermione said, "above Professor Vector and anyone else we have to bring in. But you have to start calling me Hermione."

"Fine…" Rebecca offered her hand. "Er, Hermione, you have a deal."

Joining two threads together was fairly simple, Hermione determined. Wool, which was what the Hogwarts uniforms were made of, was composed of sheep's hairs, twenty to thirty microns in diameter and a few inches long. She wasn't sure about other fabrics, but she assumed they were similar. Large numbers of these hairs were spun together to make thread, the combined friction of the many fibres rubbing together giving it its strength. All she needed to do to join two ends of a thread was to fray the ends out into their component fibres and make them all spin together into a single thread with magic. That didn't take long at all, and when she was done, she could join threads together into impossible loops and tangles with no ends that looked like they'd been manufactured that way by some non-Euclidean spinning wheel.

It was actually a little creepy.

Still, when she tested the loops, they didn't preferentially break where she'd joined them, so it looked like her spell worked as intended. The hard part was to make an entire seam of fabric with both warp and weft do the same thing, especially since it involved several inches of material. In the interest of time, she decided to simplify it by making a spell to join strips of fabric that were cut along the diagonal.

Lavender and Parvati were getting into it, too. They were monopolising one of the coffee tables in the Common Room that evening, sketching out Hagrid's new look with an intensity usually reserved for major military operations. Hagrid wouldn't know what hit him.

"Hi, Hermione," a voice greeted her as she ciphered.

She looked up. "Oh, hi, Neville. How are you?"

"Alright. What are you working on? It's holidays."

"This? Just a little surprise for the ball. Are you going?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Gran's expecting me to go. I'd just as soon skip it."

"Why?"

"I don't have a date, for one."

"That's no reason not to go, Neville. You can have plenty of fun just going on your own. And you still have time to ask someone, anyway."

"I guess…" he trailed off.

"Did you, er, have someone you wanted to ask?"

Neville turned bright red and averted his gaze, and she got a good idea what the answer was.

"Oh," she said. Actually, that was pretty brave of him, considering everyone thought she was with Harry before this. That had got the rumour mill going.

"I, uh…I might've asked Ginny, too," he quickly moved on, "but I think she's also spoken for."

Hermione frowned. Ginny had wanted that kept a secret. "Is it that obvious?"

"I think everyone in our dorm but Ron knows it. No one's been brave enough to tell him so far."

"Figures. Saturday's going to be interesting. Anyway, you shouldn't worry so much, Neville. There really shouldn't be so much pressure for a school dance, anyway."

"Tell that to Gran. It's a social obligation thing for her."

"How so?"

"Gran's really…traditional. Lots of stuff about family lines and such."

Hermione stared blankly.

"Like last summer, she asked me if I had a girlfriend, and when I said I didn't, she started making suggestions." Lav and Parv looked up and giggled from their table. Hermione glared at them. "I swear, if I'm still single when I graduate, she's gonna start setting me up on blind dates with third cousins," he said. The other girls giggled more.

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Oh, you mean that kind of old-fashioned," she said.

"Yeah, she wants me to get a serious date, but I really only want to go with a friend."

"Hmm…What about Luna? You seem to get on with her pretty well, and I know she'd be thrilled if you asked her."

"Really?"

"Sure. She hides it, but she's sensitive about not having many friends, and I know no one's asked her yet. She'll be over the moo…Wow, I walked right into that one."

Neville chuckled and reflected on the idea. "She is really nice," he said. "She never makes fun of me when I screw up or anything."

"Luna doesn't make fun of people," Hermione said. "Not maliciously, anyway. And she knows how to tell a good friend and treat them properly. She might never say it, but she really appreciates that you never make fun of her for saying all the weird things she does."

"Alright, I'll ask her then," Neville said confidently. "And Gran might flip when I tell her, so that's a bonus—"

SLAM!

"Why did I do it, Harry?"

Everyone in the Common Room jumped and stared as Harry and Ginny pulled a moaning Ron in through the portrait hole.

"Because she's a quarter veela, and you let your guard down," Harry said. "I think she turned up the charm for Diggory."

Ron looked dizzy and a little green. Harry and Ginny dropped him onto one of the chairs with a soft thud.

"Ron?" Hermione said, getting up. "What happened to you?"

"He just asked Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball," Ginny said.

"What?" Hermione gasped covering her mouth.

"Kind of shouted it, actually," Ginny said. "It was a little frightening."

"Oh my God! What did she do?" Hermione knew Fleur didn't suffer hormone-addled boys lightly.

"She just looked at me like I was a sea-slug or something. Didn't even answer. Then I, uh, kinda ran for it."

"Oh. It's probably good you did, then," Hermione. Ron looked at her like she was from Mars. "If you'd stood your ground, she might've hexed you in places you don't want to be hexed," she explained.

Ron paled and subconsciously crossed his legs. "This is mad!" he said. "All of you guys have dates already—well, except Neville."

"Hermione's setting him up with Luna Lovegood," Lavender quipped from across the room.

"Oh come on!"

"Calm down, Ron," Ginny said. "You're the one who's only asked one girl."

"Well, before, I thought maybe the four of us—" He stopped short, and Hermione's eyes grew wide.

"You mean me and you—" she started. Did Ron like her? She paused and chose her words carefully. "Ron, we're friends and all, but do you really see that ending well?"

"Better than you and George?" he countered.

"Hey, there's more to George than people think," she said defensively. "I could say the same for you, honestly, but I don't think I'm your type."

"Definitely not," Ginny agreed.

"Excuse me! I think I'd know my type better than you lot."

"Then find a girl who is your type and ask her. Politely," she shot back.

"But you—grrr, fine." Ron surveyed the room, seemingly lost in thought. "Hermione, d'you know if Lavender—"

"Going with Seamus."

"Oh…Parvati?"

"She hasn't mentioned a date, which for her means she definitely doesn't have one. Sally-Anne and Lily both do, but they won't say who."

"Great…" Ron stood up and stopped, frozen on the spot.

"Do you need Harry to go with you as backup?" Ginny taunted.

Ron marched over to Parvati at once.

Hermione had one other project to work on during her busy week at Hogwarts, and that was to take another look at the Marauder's Map. Since she had completed her map of Beauxbatons, she had set aside the one hour a week for researching magical map-making. This week, though, she had the original on hand, so she asked Harry to bring it along with his communication mirror to the Room of Requirement for a chat. Sirius and Remus refused to tell her how the Map worked outright, but she could still try to pick their brains about her own work.

"So what have you done so far, Hermione?" Remus asked.

"Well, I have a pretty detailed map of Beauxbatons that's pretty much to scale—about as close to scale as you can get in a magical castle. But, the main feature of the Marauder's Map is that it can track anyone in the building, and I'm lost there. I mean, I found all sorts of tracking charms in the library that can be used to trace people. I know it has to be something strong that can track people who didn't want to be found. And it has to locate them precisely in three dimensions, not just a direction, so it can plot their location on the map. On the other hand, it only has to cover a limited area, so there's some flexibility there. So once I had done a pretty thorough search—I convinced Monsieur Oppenord to let me peruse the Restricted Section in the library there—I did a few small-scale experiments."

She laid out a rough sketch of a block of bedrooms she had drawn. "This is a map of the girls' fourth-year dorms at Beauxbatons," she explained. "The Homonculous Charm seemed to work best. It links the girl it's cast on with the representation of her on the Map. Everyone I cast it on, their name and location automatically shows up when they're in the dorm. Hmm…it doesn't seem to be working from outside the country, but it was working before."

"Homonculous Charm?" Sirius said with interest.

"That's what I heard," Remus agreed.

"Well, I'm impressed, Hermione," Sirius said. "It took us ages to figure that part out."

"You mean the Homonculous Charm was right?" she said in surprise. Both men nodded in the mirror. "But…but…I can't even figure out how to get untraced people to show up on the map, let alone identify them. And then there's the fact that the Marauder's Map even registers the changes to the structure of the castle itself over time, and how it can see through invisibility cloaks, and—"

"Have you looked at the original Map, then?" Remus asked.

"Well, that's why I brought it. Harry? Could I see the Map, please?"

"Hmm," Harry said, looking at the Map intently, oblivious to their conversation. "Barty Crouch is meeting with Moody. I wonder if they're close to figuring out how my name got in the Goblet."

"Maybe. That'd be nice," said Sirius.

"Could I see it, please?" Hermione repeated.

Harry handed the Map to Hermione, who began casting diagnostic spells. With her new knowledge of experimental spellcrafting, she could pull back some of the layers of magic partway and peek underneath. She had to be careful to avoid upsetting the Map's defence mechanism, which would wipe everything and leave her trying to talk her way past the teenage Marauders, but it didn't seem to trigger for a light examination. She was pretty sure if she dug down into the hidden rune layer and tried to hack its "programming", though, it would be another story.

She had only got one good look at the mechanics of the Marauder's Map before, and she could glean a lot more now than she could then. Thinking about it in terms of computer programming, there was a whole "program" of mixed spells and runes. The "kernel" was composed of a core of high-powered spells that detected information about the castle and passed it to the hidden runes, which did the "data processing" to turn it into a readable form. Another, simpler set of spells plotted the "output" of the runes on the parchment. And there was another group of subroutines that she guessed generated the Marauders' responses.

The odd part was that the largest chunk of the kernel was something that looked like the Homonculous Charm, but if it was, it wasn't being used normally. It infused the entire map—every line, and every dot, not just the people.

"I don't understand," she said. "It looks like you're using the Homonculous Charm for everything, but I don't see how it can track the movements of the castle and people the Map doesn't know. I mean, I had a few ideas for how to do it in principle, but it involved using detection spells on the physical rooms."

Sirius and Remus grinned. "You're on the right track, Hermione," Remus told her. "Everything you need is already there."

"It is?" She took another look at the Map and thought harder. It was hard to look at it in really great detail. Everything was so small. She'd want a zoom function on her map, if she could manage it. The Homonculous Charm was seemingly everywhere. The Map kept track of everyone in the school and seemingly got their names from an outside source. Plus, it also knew when the staircases and even the layout of the castle changed.

Everything you need is already there, she thought, and with a start, she realised there was one explanation that resolved all of those things: "Oh my God, you cast the Homonculous Charm on the castle itself!"

"You win a biscuit," Sirius said. "Clever, isn't it?"

"Merlin…I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure you'd have to do that from the anchor stones. That means you—at minimum—sneaked down to the anchor stones of the castle, cast the spell, and maybe even carved a few runes of your own in to feed information to the Map. And people's names? You get those from the castle wards?"

"Exactly," Remus confirmed. "They're old and powerful wards that can cut through almost any attempt at disguise, although there were a few complications. Something like the Marauder's Map can only really exist in a place like Hogwarts. Sure, you could make something that looks similar almost anywhere, but only at Hogwarts is it going to be that powerful."

"Wow. This changes everything. I don't even know where—well, the practice stone circle behind the Clock Tower is what they use for this sort of thing, isn't it? I could test a few subroutines there. Of course, I'm just getting started on the runes. I might need Ron for that and the Twins to help with the Charms work, but…Thank you, Sirius, Remus, I think this will be a big help."

"No problem," Sirius said. "It's the least we can do after all you've done for Harry, and I'm sure the Marauders' secrets are in good hands."

"Okay, we have Hagrid's measurements," Lavender said, "but how are you actually going to make the suit?"

Hermione smiled: "I have my ways. Can you two keep a secret?"

"Of course," Lav and Parv said.

Hermione's gaze hardened: "I mean actually keep a secret."

"Hey just because we like to keep abreast of all the goings-on around here doesn't mean we can't keep things quiet," Parvati insisted. "Have you heard me say who Padma's going with to the ball?"

"I…guess not. Sorry, it's just…anyway, just remember that only my closest friends know about this. Follow me."

Hermione led them to the seventh floor, where she paced back and forth past the dancing trolls three times. The other girls gasped as a door appeared in the opposite wall, and it opened to reveal what was basically a secondhand tailor's shop. There were large amounts of fine fabric everywhere, used sewing machines, spools of thread, and buttons of all sorts—everything they needed to make a giant suit. Granted, the fabrics weren't quite the usual materials. The white cloth appeared to be bed sheets, but they were pure white and in good condition. The black seemed to be drapes and the leather was upholstery. She had checked with Dobby and the other elves to be sure she wasn't stealing from the school, but he insisted that the Room only contained things they didn't need, left over from their once-a-decade bouts of redecorating and similar sources.

"Bloody hell, what is this place," the other girls said together.

"It's called the Room of Requirement. It's basically a magical storage room, but it can turn into anything you need if you ask it right. I asked it to give us things we need to make a suit for Hagrid."

"This is incredible," Parvati said.

"Yes, but a limited resource. It only has stuff that's been put in here."

"I can see that," Lavender said. "This isn't the best material for making clothes. It's going to look cheap, and it's not going to hold up to heavy wear."

"I suspected as much," Hermione agreed, "but we're only doing a quick job here. And to be brutally honest, how often does Hagrid need to dress up, anyway?"

"More than this if he and your Headmistress start dating," Lav giggled, "but point taken. So we have a pattern that we can make from this. How do you want to do this?"

"Well, I'm sure you two know a lot more about formal wear for wizards than I do. Let's just say you make the patterns and cut the cloth, and I'll weave it together. You'll have to do it a little differently than normal, though. I need you to cut wide strips diagonal to the weave as much as possible."

"Why?" Parvati asked. "And how are you going to weave cut strips of cloth?"

"At least without leaving ugly seams?" Lavender added.

Hermione smiled and said, "Watch and learn. Hold this, please." She pickup one of the bedsheets and bid them to hold it by the corners. With a quick "Diffindo," a diagonal rip was opened in the sheet. "I call this the Scarborough Charm," she said, and she touched her wand to one end of the rip and slowly drew it down the fabric whilst chanting, "Unasiwod. Unasiwod. Unasiwod." To the girls' amazement, the edges of the rip frayed into fluff and then spun themselves back together into new, intact threads, completely closing it.

It was harder on linen than on wool, Hermione had noted. She was pretty sure that was due to longer fibres. Once she got the spell working, she had tested it on different fabrics to be sure it worked. One of her muggle-manufactured cotton shirts was easiest to repair, as it seemed to have shorter fibres than wool. Polyester and nylon were both about the same difficulty as wool, and linen was more difficult.

"Hermione, how did you do that without a Mending Charm?" Parvati demanded. "Fabrics are one of the things that magic doesn't work well on. Aren't clothes one of the exceptions to Gamp's Law?"

"Yes, which I suspect is down to the structural complexity of most fabrics, but I didn't conjure or transfigure anything here. I just went to the most basic level of complexity and made the individual fibres spin back into thread. It's almost the same way I do my hair."

"Hermione, do you know how much magical tailors would pay for this spell?" Lavender gushed.

She shrugged. She thought the real market, if it were allowed, would be with muggles. She could make a fortune fixing runs in nylon stockings. "Not really. I can't see there being much of a market for seamless clothes, and the Mending Charm is still easier. And also, it doesn't work on silk." She had ruined a silk scarf whilst testing the spell, only realising too late that silk was a continuous filament and thus not spun in the same way as other threads.

"Well, maybe not, but you could…" Lavender countered, but she stopped. "Well, there's still…huh, I don't know…" she admitted. "But still, this is great. Hagrid's going to love this."

"I sure hope so."

Christmas morning came, and the castle was abuzz with excitement. Normally, Hogwarts was nearly empty on Christmas, but with the ball, more than half the students were still there. Everyone was up early and opening presents, although Hermione didn't have so many because she would be celebrating with her mum and dad tomorrow, but after breakfast, Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati were girls on a mission. They had decided to go down to Hagrid's hut in the morning to drop off his clothes and try to do something about his hair. They wanted to go early in case there were complications.

"Happy Christmas, Hagrid!" the girls said as he greeted them at the door and saw them carrying an enormous wrapped bundle between them.

"Happy Christmas, yeh three," Hagrid rumbled with a smile. "Come in. Come in. I made fruitcake."

Given Hagrid's normal standard of cooking, his fruitcake would probably be hazardous to one's health, so they politely declined and insisted he unwrap his present instead.

"Well, yeh didn't have ter get me anythin'," he said as he opened the bundle. "But I do appreciate—" Hagrid's small, beetle-black eyes grew unusually large when he saw what was inside. "Blimey, this is…amazin'. I've never seen one o' these even close ter my size before. Oh, I can't accept this, girls. This must've cost a fortune ter have tailored."

"It didn't cost us a knut, Hagrid," Hermione assured him. "We did it all ourselves."

"Yerselves?" he said incredulously. "But how—?"

"Our fashion sense and Hermione's spells," Lavender beamed.

"To be honest, we weren't sure if you'd like it," Parvati said. "It's kind of all made of cheap linen."

"Are yeh kiddin'? I love it! No one's ever made me dress robes before. Best gift I've got in years. Bet it'll look smashin' tonight."

"I think it'll look pretty good," Lavender agreed. "Speaking of which, we really need to do something about your hair."

"My hair?" he said questioningly. "What about it?"

"Well, be honest, Hagrid; is the 'wild man of the forest' look really the one you want to wear tonight?"

"Well, I, uh, s'pose not…But I've never really done nothing with my hair. Just grows that way."

"Don't worry. I had the same problem," Hermione said. "I invented a couple of spells to help me with mine. Do you want to try it?"

Hagrid thought for a minute.

"I bet Madame Maxime would appreciate a well-cultured gentleman with great hair," Lavender teased.

"Eh, alright, why not?"

"Excellent," Hermione said. She circled around to the back of his head. "Now, hold still…Micronima Isiazolia."

One small strand of Hagrid's huge mass of bushy hair straightened itself.

Hermione frowned and put more power into the spell: "Micronima Isiazolia. Micronima Isiazolia." Still, she only got a weak response. "Hagrid," she gasped.

"What?"

"I think your hair is magic-resistant."

"Oh, right, I s'pose it is."

"But why? How?"

"Well, er, I'll trust yeh not ter spread it around, but that'll be the giant's blood."

"What?!" Lavender and Parvati gasped and took a fearful step back.

"What?" Hermione said in confusion.

"You're part-giant?" Parvati asked fearfully.

"Yeah. Me mum was one. Like I said, I'd appreciate yeh didn't tell anyone."

"Of course, if you don't want," Hermione said, but she stared at her friends, who were looking pale and edging for the door. "What? What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal?" Lavender squeaked. "Hermione, giants are…" she looked up at Hagrid fearfully.

"Oi, I know they don't have a good reputation, but giants can be decent folk. Me dad wouldn'ta fallen for me mum otherwise."

Hermione really didn't want to think about how the mechanics of that worked.

"I always thought it was just an overdose of Skele-Gro," Parvati said softly.

"Or an Engorgement Charm gone wrong," Lavender added.

The two of them were almost at the door and looked to be on the verge of making a run for it, so Hermione put a stop to it: "Oh, honestly, you two, what's your problem? He's still the same Hagrid. You've never had a problem with him the past three and a half years. Why should you worry now that you know who his parents were? And more to the point, I can't manage magically-resistant hair on my own, so are you in or out?"

That speech and the prospect of a cosmetic challenge was enough to shame them into staying. They both muttered apologies to Hagrid and put on determined looks as they tackled his hair. It took an hour of casting, both to straighten and de-frizz (including Hermione teaching them the spells) to get his hair and beard under control. Hermione wondered whether it would be faster to rig up a physical straightening iron to do it and whether they could pull it off without setting him on fire. Still, they managed it, and the resident fashion-mongers debated what to actually do with it.

"He looks like Karkaroff's big brother with it hanging limp like that," Lavender said.

"We could add some braids, maybe," Parvati suggested. "They don't look too bad on men with long enough hair."

Hermione shook her head at that idea: "He'll look like a giant Viking."

"Well, what do you think?" Lavender asked her.

"I don't know. I'd suggest adding some wave, but it was hard enough to get it like it is."

"Hmm…we could tie his beard, like Dumbledore does."

They tried that. It was a definite improvement, but he still looked like a seventeenth-century throwback, and even in the wizarding world, that wasn't great.

"Maybe tie the hair back, too?" Parvati said.

They did it.

"I think we have a winner," Lavender said.

Hagrid looked completely different with his hair tied back, but oddly, it seemed to work. "Yeh know, I think it does look pretty good," he agreed.

"Alright then," Hermione said. "I think you're set, now. Just keep your hair dry until the ball, and you should be fine. We'll see you tonight."

"Will do. See yeh tonight. And thanks again."

Hermione hadn't had a chance to visit the elves this week, so she squeezed that in after lunch, convincing Ginny, Harry, and Ron to go with her. She had brought some trinkets to give her two favourite elves for Christmas, but she wasn't expecting to walk in on an argument.

"Dobby, you knows better than this," squeaked an indignant young elf with blond hair and cobalt-blue eyes. "Is being very bad form for an elf to give an elf clothes."

Dobby was standing before Sonya in his Christmas best, holding out a long strip of cloth. "Miss Hermione says scarves is not clothes, Sonya. They is accessories, like your belt."

Sonya looked down at her simple tool belt that she always tied tight enough around her tea towel to show off her admittedly modest curves. The younger elf may not have cared for clothes, but she did know a thing or two about fashion.

"That's right," Hermione spoke up. "You'll never find scarves in with the clothes in a muggle store. They're always with the belts and handbags and such."

Both elves looked up. "Miss Hermione! Happy Christmas! It is good to see you!" They stared at each other when they said it in perfect unison.

"Hello, Dobby. Hello, Sonya. Happy Christmas," Hermione said, and then she added, "That really is a beautiful scarf, Sonya."

"Really? Well…I guess Sonya can takes a look…" Sonya tentatively took the scarf in her little hands. Hermione wasn't exaggerating. She knew Dobby liked to knit, but she'd never imagined he was working on something like this. The scarf he'd made for Sonya was twice as long as her height, about six inches wide, and coloured with many random stripes of faded red, gold, green, blue, purple, tan, and brown, with multicoloured tassells at each end. Hermione also hadn't realised Dobby was paying that much attention to muggle television. Sonya looped the scarf around her neck so that it hung low over her chest, and it still trailed to her feet. She didn't look too certain about it.

"It is being the scarf that the Doctor wears," Dobby said proudly.

"Doctor? Doctor who?"

Hermione started giggling and turned around to try to hide it. Her friends were still behind her, and Ron and Ginny were giving her a blank look. Harry also started sniggering, which confused them even more.

"You two get hit with a Laughing Jinx or something?" Ron said.

"No. Muggle joke, sorry," Hermione choked out.

"If this is being a prank…" Sonya squeaked angrily.

"No, no, Sonya. It looks really good," she insisted. "I know all the muggle-born students will like it if they see it. Probably some of the half-bloods too."

Sonya blushed a little and adjusted the scarf again. "Well, then, er, thank you, Dobby," she said.

"Dobby!" an irate and slurring voice squeaked. "Go away! You is corrupting the other elves!"

Hermione turned, wide-eyed, to a horrible sight. "Winky?" she gasped.

Winky looked a lot worse than the last time she had visited her, at Halloween. The brown-eyed elf's large, red nose looked inflamed, but that was probably the Butterbeer. Her tea towel was stained and burnt in several places, and there was soot and dirt on her skin. The only part of her ensemble that looked clean was Barty Crouch's necktie, still looped around her neck like a scarf, but even that was looking faded and worn, not like anything the perfectly proper Mr. Crouch would actually wear.

Winky hiccoughed when she saw Hermione. Her admonition to Dobby might have been more effective if she hadn't been falling-down drunk.

"Winky, what's happened?" Hermione said in horror.

"Miss Hermione Granger, miss!" she gave a stumbling curtsy. "Winky is—hic—trying to help the other elves not to be making Winky's mistake."

"I is only wishing my friends Happy Christmas," Dobby insisted.

"You is a—hic—bad elf, Dobby! You is leading other elves wrong. Sonnitt shoulds not bes—hic—wearing scarfs. You is looking disgraced like that, Sonnitt. You is looking like…like…" Suddenly, Winky burst into tears and fell on her face, clutching the necktie like a security blanket.

"Winky!" Hermione said in alarm. "Winky, please get up!"

"Winky!" another, sterner voice called. It was Tilly. "Winky, you shoulds not be disturbing the guests," she admonished. She lifted her up with an arm around her shoulders and dragged her back towards the fireplace.

"Tilly?"

"Hello, Miss Hermione Granger. Please do not mind Winky. She is still very disturbed."

"Isn't there something I can do?"

Tilly shook her head sadly. "No, miss. Tilly has said some elves can't adjust to being dismissed. There is not being anything you can do."

Hermione watched them go sadly, wishing she could help. It looked as it the other elves were just ignoring Winky's problems, but what could she do? Even after three years, she didn't fully understand elves, and they were around Winky a lot more than she was.

Hermione went outside to clear her head after that sight. She watched Harry and the Weasleys get into a massive snowball fight, which the Twins eventually roped her into. She had to admit it was a lot of fun, even as a mad free-for-all, but the boys protested when she and Ginny left at six to get ready for the ball.

What the boys didn't understand was that Hermione wanted two hours to get ready for the ball not because she needed it, but because her roommates would be hogging the bathroom. Of course, she might have wanted three hours if she still had her old, unruly hair, but they didn't need to know that.

Hermione quickly changed into her dress and consented to let Lav and Parv do her hair. They did a good job, she had to admit—putting her hair up in an elegant knot with a few curls hanging free so that it didn't look all business. Hermione insisted on doing her own makeup, though, because that was where her other little surprise came in. She applied it very lightly, by the others' standards—just enough to give her skin a smooth, unblemished look, and then, she cast her spell. It worked like a, well, charm, but she twisted her wand to tone down the effect until it was just barely perceptible. As Mum had said (and Hermione trusted her mum much more than her roommates), less was more when it came to makeup, and anything more would just come off as gaudy or gimmicky. Besides, the spell would last longer, this way.

"Okay, what do you think?" Hermione asked a little nervously as she exited the bathroom.

Her roommates stared at her. They could definitely tell something had changed, and for the better, but they couldn't quite put their fingers on it.

"Wow, Hermione, you, uh—you look great," Lavender said, eliciting a smile. "You clean up even better than I thought. You are glowing." Then, she leaned closer to her and squinted. "I mean, you are literally glowing. What did you do?"

Hermione smiled wider. Now that they were looking for it, her roommates could see that her skin was glowing with a very faint, soft, white light. "Sanctitatis Apparentia," she said. I came up with it a few months ago, but I thought it should really be saved for special occasions." Actually, the spell was her best attempt to replicate whatever the Ministry had used to make the stadium glow at the Quidditch World Cup. This application was just a bonus.

"Wow, I can't believe we never thought of that," Parvati said. "George isn't gonna know what hit him."

Hermione blushed. A part of her was definitely hoping that was true.

A/N: Unasiwod: Old English for "unsewed."

Sanctitatis Apparentia: Latin for "appearance of holiness".