Disclaimer: Can you dance like a hippogriff? JK Rowling can.

A/N: Trelawney says that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die. This (probably) came true in three cases, but not at the Yule Ball, where four champions, four dates, and five judges ate at the High Table. Dumbledore, not Cedric, rose first.

Also, Chapter 2 of Petrification Proliferation is now up.

Chapter 75

There was a custom, of sorts, of boys waiting anxiously for their dates to appear, not having any clue how they would look. In the case of the Yule Ball, everyone had bought their robes last summer, so there was no chance to coordinate colours if your name wasn't Malfoy or Parkinson, so the boys were even kept in the dark about that. This was a custom most strictly enforced at weddings, but it apparently extended to school dances, much to the boys' dismay. A more charitable person might say that it was just because girls took longer to get ready, but the boys knew better. It was because girls loved to play on their nerves. And it was succeeding. For all of the boys waiting for their dates to come down the stairs to the Common Room, especially those who had never dated before, it was extremely nerve-wracking.

Harry Potter really wished didn't have to wait with three of his date's older brothers, especially the Twins. That they didn't yet know with whom he was going didn't seem to help matters.

As it happened, his date was the first to descend the stairs. Ginny Weasley was dressed in the simplest ensemble of the girls: light sea-green robes with pink trim and not much makeup or jewelry. Harry knew that was as much because of the cost as her age, but he would never say it, and she still looked really nice. He hadn't really noticed her looks much before, but he could appreciate them. Her brothers gaped when she made a beeline for Harry. "Hi, Harry," she said. "You clean up pretty well."

"Thanks. Er, you look, uh, very nice, too," he replied, and after a moment's thought, he awkwardly offered her his arm.

"Ginny?!" Ron blurted.

"Yes, Ronald?" she said with exaggerated sweetness.

"You're going with Harry?"

"Why are you so surprised? I seem to remember you suggesting that very thing a few days ago."

"Yeah, but—" Ron stopped, unable to retort.

"Blimey, how did we not see that coming?" Fred said.

"I don't know," George answered. "And now, we didn't even get to have a talk with Harry first."

"Funny how that worked out," Ginny said with a grin.

Harry was now more nervous than ever, and not just about the Twins. With his childhood, he didn't have a clue about dates or dances, and he had a bad feeling he was going to bollocks this up somehow. However, Ginny kept a tight grip on his arm, which he felt like it kept him from passing out.

Angelina was next down the stairs, wearing a long dress robe of midnight purple. Fred immediately took her hand and twirled her around before giving her a kiss on the temple and saying, "Come away with me, milady." Angelina giggled.

A little while later came the fourth-year girls, a group who turned out to be full of surprises. First, Lily Moon and a very-nervous-looking Sally-Anne Perks drew stares and whispers as they exited the staircase hand in hand—not as many as they would have gotten in the muggle world, but the fact that they were roommates wasn't ignored. Then, Lavender, easily the most ostentatious of the group, sought out Seamus, and Parvati gracefully strolled up to Ron.

Ron's jaw dropped. While he was half-voluntarily lusting after Fleur, he hadn't noticed how pretty Parvati was, but now, she stood out in bright pink robes with generous amounts of gold, including braided into her hair. Ron really wished he had better dress robes than his eighteenth-century throwbacks. She frowned when she saw the frayed remains of the lace collar and cuffs he had removed, but she said nothing.

"Wow, y-you look…good," Ron stammered.

"Thank you, Ronald. Shall we go down, then?" Parvati replied.

"Er, yeah."

Meanwhile, George was staring in amazement at Hermione. George had known in an abstract way, even before she had "fixed" her hair and teeth (though he had thought her old look had a certain charm), that Hermione was a fairly pretty girl under those curls, but when she actually took the opportunity to dress up, the effect was staggering. She had put her hair up—not just tamed it, but done something fancy with it and wore a blue headband in it that matched her dress, whose floaty, many-layered silk looked like something out of Beedle the Bard. And her face—he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something different about it. It didn't look like anything in particular had changed, but it was almost like she was glowing. She caught his eye, and she stood with as much confidence as she could muster and flashed him a nervous smile.

"Wow, Hermione, you look…beautiful," he said.

"George, I take back what I said about you being nutters," Fred whispered to him.

The makeup and her charm hid her blush, but Hermione suspected some of it was still showing through. She had never been called beautiful by a non-family member before, nor had she really expected to be, especially at fifteen. Pretty, she could manage, but beautiful was a high bar. "Thank you, George," she said breathlessly, trying to ignore the stares from the rest of the group. "Shall we go?"

George shot the other boys a smug look behind her back and escorted her out of the Common Room. He may have got some ribbing for asking her place, but they weren't laughing, now.

The group went down to the Entrance Hall, where those who had dates in other houses met up. Neville generated even more buzz and a few malicious whispers when he took a beaming Luna Lovegood by the hand. Luna had taken the Yule in Yule Ball to heart and was dolled up in eye-popping red and green robes with a metallic cast that would have made more appropriate dress robes for a Christmas elf, but she did look pretty good, and Neville smiled as he escorted her in to the Great Hall.

The Slytherins came up from the basement—Malfoy and Parkinson together, Crabbe and Goyle both on their own—at least, they didn't show any signs of being together. The bookends were wearing proper dress robes, though, which made them look eerily like mafia thugs. Pansy Parkinson gaped at Hermione when she saw her. Hermione remembered how she had laughed at Rita Skeeter calling her "stunningly pretty" and smiled broadly when she couldn't think of an insult.

"Champions over here, please," Professor McGonagall called.

George and Hermione watched as Harry and Ginny joined the other Champions. Cedric and Cho were there, looking like a storybook couple, and then Fleur and Krum walked over with their dates.

Fred and George couldn't believe their eyes. Fleur Delacour's date was their roommate and frequent prank victim, Kenneth Towler. He glanced at them with the smuggest grin they had ever seen on him as they stared with their mouths hanging open.

"Why that little…"

"He just pranked us!" they said.

But Hermione wasn't paying attention to them. She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Viktor Krum's date. It was Padma.

Padma was dressed much like her sister, but in turquoise instead of pink, and she could almost have been glowing under her own power to be with Viktor Krum. Hermione had a feeling she would upstage all of the other girls (except Fleur, of course). Lavender squealed at a frequency that really shouldn't be anatomically possible and grabbed Parvati away from Ron, demanding to know why she hadn't told her. Padma just smiled and mouthed "Thanks," to her sister before Krum escorted her into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall had been decked out in record time since lunch, and it was one of the most beautiful sights Hermione had seen at Hogwarts. Instead of the common red and green, it was all in green and silver—but not the Slytherin colours. It was the dark green of ivy and Christmas trees against the white-silver of frost and icicles that covered the walls and ceiling in shimmering light. Instead of the long house tables, there were many small, round ones, each seating about a dozen and lit with lanterns.

The judges were all there, dressed up as well, except for Mr. Crouch. In his place was Percy Weasley, much to his siblings' shock.

"I've been promoted," he explained to a put-out-looking Ginny. "I'm now Mr. Crouch's personal assistant. I wanted to surprise all of you. He's not as young as he once was, sadly—been feeling under the weather."

"He still calling you 'Weatherby'?" Ginny asked. Percy turned red and gave her a cross look, but didn't answer. "Honestly, Perce, he's Dad's cousin, and he can't even remember your name. Why do you put up with that?"

"Mr. Crouch is your dad's cousin?" Harry said in surprise.

"Yeah, didn't Sirius tell you?"

"No."

"Our grandmother and Mr. Crouch's mother were sisters," Percy explained, "daughters of Arcturus Black and Lysandra Yaxley…"

He was about to explain more, but he was interrupted by gasps coming from massed crowd, and all eyes turned to the entrance where they saw a sight so unbelievable that it overshadowed all the others.

Rubeus Hagrid was in full evening dress—white tie, tails, and all. His hair was straight and styled, and his normally inconspicuous eyes were wide and shining. He stood up straight at his full height and strode forward with an uncommon confidence straight towards Madame Maxime. No one dared speak. Then, Hagrid bent down and kissed her hand, and said, in a surprisingly good French accent, "Bon soir, Madame. Voulez-vous accepter ces fleurs?" He pulled out a corsage made out of a full dozen orange roses. Clearly, Lavender and Parvati had been busier than Hermione had thought. They could make some good money in the muggle world with advertising like this.

Madame Maxime gasped and laid a hand to her chest, clearly overwhelmed by the man's improvement. "Monsieur 'Agrid," she said, "Je serais honoré." She took the corsage and pinned it to her dress robes.

There was a sound of clapping. Harry had started applauding. Soon, half the Hall had joined in. Hermione beamed to see her hard work had paid off. When the applause died down, and the High Table took their seats; only Dumbledore remained standing. "Thank you, Hagrid, for that excellent opening," he said with a smile. "And now, let the feast begin." He sat down and said to his plate, "Pork chops."

That was a clever system, and right up the house elves' alley, ordering the food up like that. It gave the dinner a fancier feel, as if the decorations weren't enough. Hermione and George sat with their friends, and Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati excitedly explained about Hagrid's makeover. Even the boys were duly impressed. They chatted about this and that through the dinner as time went on, and the champions and their dates looked to be having a good time at the High Table, too.

Once dinner was over, Dumbledore stood and cleared away the tables with a wave of his wand, and conjured a stage for the evening's entertainment.

Somehow, the Weird Sisters were exactly what Hermione expected a wizard rock band to look like. They had a definite goth look to them, despite the dress robes, and the usual guitar and drums were mixed with lute, cello, and bagpipes. The bagpipes actually fit in surprisingly well. Ginny pulled Harry over to the middle of the dance floor, and the champions opened the dancing. The Weird Sisters started out with traditional waltz music, but Hermione suspected that would change shortly.

"Well, then, shall we dance?" George asked.

"Yes, let's," Hermione said, and they took to the floor.

Hermione definitely preferred a proper dance to her Waltzing Jinx prank, and she was pleased to find that George was a good dancer, even without the jinx. Fred and Angelina were twirling around with reckless abandon, but George kept a statelier pace for her sake. Harry and Ginny were slowly revolving in place, and Ginny was whispering something to him as they tried to go into a more proper turn. Hermione suspected she was giving him an impromptu dance lesson. It wouldn't surprise her if Harry didn't know how to dance at all.

Harry was doing better than Neville, though. The round-faced boy was tragically clumsy, and his partner didn't seem to know what dance they were doing. Neville was trying to stumble through a waltz, while Luna was doing some kind of tap dance.

Wait a minute…Hermione thought. She watched the couple closer for a little while and was amazed when she saw it. Luna was sidestepping Neville's feet with preternatural skill every time he was about to tread on her toes—in time with the music, without even looking, and smiling at him the whole time as if it were perfectly natural. Luna must be either a brilliant dancer or a Seer, she thought. That girl really was full of surprises.

Sure enough, the waltz music soon changed to more typical rock numbers like "Do the Hippogriff". It wasn't Hermione's cup of tea, but she kept dancing off and on. Once the champions were released from the opening dance, Harry and Ginny joined the rest of the Weasley Clan, and they switched off partners for a couple of dances.

"Not much of a dancer then?" Hermione asked Harry when she found herself slowly revolving in place with him.

He shook his head: "Sorry. I wasn't about to learn it from the Dursleys. I know my aunt and uncle went to galas once in a while for Grunnings, but I can't picture them actually dancing…makes me a little sick, actually."

Hermione giggled in spite of herself.

"You look really great, Hermione," Harry said. "What did you do with your face?"

"Just a little charm. I think George is still trying to figure it out."

"Well, it looks good. You look kind of like Cinderella, actually."

"Oh, you recognised it?"

"Hey, I wasn't a complete shut-in growing up."

Hermione just giggled again and thanked him for the dance. After that song, the boys went to get drinks, leaving the girls to talk amongst themselves.

"Having a good time, Ginny?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, yes, it's wonderful! Sirius really should have taught Harry to dance, though. All the fancy purebloods do it."

"Well, we both know Sirius isn't exactly normal." Both girls giggled at that.

Meanwhile, and the punch bowl, Fred and George were having that conversation with Harry they had missed earlier.

"Just remember, Harry—" Fred said.

"—if you hurt our baby sister—" George continued.

"You will face—"

"—the prank war to end all prank wars!" they finished in unison.

Harry shuddered involuntarily. Ginny's temper was bad enough on its own. Being on the receiving end of the Twins' wrath was something he didn't want to contemplate. In desperation, he grasped for a comeback, and he found one. "I'm still not as worried as George should be," he said.

George cocked an eyebrow: "How do you mean?"

"Well, I only have to worry about Ginny's six older brothers, all of whom are brilliant at some form of magic or other, plus her being a crack shot with a wand, herself. George has to worry about Hermione."

George's grin was replaced with a frown, and his eyes slowly widened as he considered the implications.

"Merlin's pants, you really did draw the short straw, George," Fred teased him. "Harry doesn't even have to threaten you himself."

"Well, I still get whatever's left when she's done," Harry warned. "Hermione's done more for me than I could ever pay her back, and I expect her to be treated right, but more importantly, so does she."

"Well, I'll be sure to do that," George said nervously.

"Hey speaking of being treated right, I think Bagman's going to be free in a minute or two," Fred added.

George looked over and saw Ludo Bagman dancing with Professor McGonagall, of all people. He grinned. "Better get back to our business partner, then," he said. The boys returned with the drinks to find the girls huddled together and whispering.

"Er…Hermione?" George said worriedly, wondering what kind of conspiracy they were plotting.

"Oh, hello, boys," Hermione said. "Say, I've been wanting to show you something. Lumos Atra!"

The tip of Hermione's wand glowed an almost impossibly brilliant deep violet—like nothing shaded so far violet should give off that much light. It was a colour that most of the group had literally never seen before in its pure form. Under its light, her dress glowed with a soft, pale, blue light.

No one else's did.

"Well, that was anticlimactic."

"Hermione, your teeth!" Ginny cried.

"Oh, are my teeth glowing?"

"Yes. What did you do?"

"You invented a magical black light?" Harry asked.

"Harry! Your teeth!"

"Yes, I'd expect that," Hermione said. "Anyone else's?" The rest of them all showed their teeth, but none of theirs were glowing. "Ah, that'll be the muggle toothpaste, then."

"Muggle toothpaste—?"

"—How're you doing that?" the Twins demanded.

"I modified Lumos to give off ultraviolet light. It's the same thing that causes sunburn, but not as dangerous. It makes some substances glow in the dark. It's supposed to make white clothes glow, but I forgot that wizards have no reason to use fluorescent laundry soap. It's the same with teeth. Harry and I are the only ones who brush with muggle toothpaste. It's too bad. I worked hard on that spell. I think I need to study up on partial differential equations to make better light and sound spells—wave mechanics, and all—"

"But why would you care if your laundry soap does that?" Parvati asked.

"Because it makes white clothes look brighter in sunlight."

Parvati was left to digest that revelation when George said, "Say, Hermione, I think we have an opening with Bagman over there. Care to join us?"

Hermione looked and said, "Alright, then."

Professor McGonagall managed to extricate herself from Bagman's dancing just as the trio arrived. "Oh, uh, hello, boys, girl," he said nervously when he saw them.

"Hello, Mr. Bagman." Fred started.

"We believe we have some business to attend to," George finished.

"Hey, hey, if this is about that World Cup thing, still, I told you that was a complete misunderstanding. I just have a few things to balance on my books, and then—"

"Hah, yeah, right," Fred interrupted.

"What—?"

"Look, Mr. Bagman," Hermione said, "you really can't pretend the leprechaun gold thing was a mistake at this point."

"Yeah, if you're not good for the money, just say so," George agreed.

"Well, I never said that," Bagman protested.

"Certainly looks that way," Fred countered.

"Well, cash flow can be…irregular…" he stammered.

"That sounds like a fancy way of saying you're not good for it," Hermione said. "In fact, George, Fred, you're a lot more invested in this than I am. What do you think? If we just get our initial stake back, can we let this whole thing go?"

The Twins glanced at each other and seemed to hold one of their telepathic conversations, and they nodded to each other. "We can go for that," Fred agreed.

"Well, like I said, cash flow…look you'll all be here for the other Tasks right?" Bagman said. Hermione nodded. "I'm sure we can work something out," he said vaguely. "Oh, look, better go chat with Potter." He walked briskly away before they could protest.

"What was that?" George demanded.

"Sounds to me like he even lost what we gave him," Fred answered.

"I hope not," Hermione said. "That was all your savings."

"Yeah. We've made a bit back, but it's slowing us down," said George. "It's one thing to bet it all, but this is highway robbery."

Hermione sighed. She could tell this wasn't going to be a very productive line of attack. "Come on, George," she said, "let's just dance."

They danced for a while longer, but as the music started dying down, many of the couples started wandering in and out to the gardens to cool off or take a walk (and probably other activities for some, but Hermione merely suggested that they take a walk).

The exterior of the castle had also been altered for the occasion. The area just past the Entrance Courtyard, where the stairs led down to the boathouse, had been turned into a lovely multi-terraced rose garden, giving couples plenty of room to move around in private. She hoped they would keep it that way. It would be a wonderful addition to the art-starved school. If there was one thing she appreciated about Beauxbatons, it was its artistic side.

Severus Snape was clearly not an art-lover, though, as he was blasting apart rosebushes to ferret out couples engaged in those other activities, plus any eavesdroppers to his conversation with Igor Karkaroff, of all people. That was both suspicious and needlessly destructive. Hermione and George caught something about Karkaroff being afraid of something "getting clearer" and Snape derisively suggesting that he flee, but they couldn't get too close for fear of provoking Snape's ire, so they had no idea what all that was about. Eventually, though, they found a secluded corner with no one else in it and no teachers nearby where they could speak in private.

"So, Hermione," George said, "there's something I've been wondering all week."

"Oh? There has?" she said nervously.

"Yeah. Back on Sunday, with that waltz prank, we you trying to get me to ask you to the ball?"

She gave him a nervous laugh: "Well, maybe not in public, but…yes, I was."

He smiled at her: "Well…actually, I was kinda trying to work up the nerve to ask you already, so I figured I'd better go for it before I changed my mind."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You already wanted to ask me?" she said in disbelief.

George was blushing faintly, now—an amazingly rare sight on either of the Twins—at least when it wasn't related to an experiment. "Yeah, I did. I mean, you're the most brilliant girl I've ever met. You're one of the few people who can keep up with Fred and me. You know how to have some fun, and you're not afraid to get in a bit of trouble for a good cause. And you're always so kind and caring…" Hermione was blushing a lot more than he was, now. "I was scared to ask you, if you can believe it," he said.

Hermione opened her mouth to say she didn't believe it, but she stopped herself. If it had been Fred, she wouldn't have believed it, but George…he might surprise her.

"Really," he continued. "For starters, I could tell you had a crush on Diggory, and he's a pretty intimidating guy, but even after he got another date, I was thinking, 'How could a girl as smart as her ever go for a guy who almost flunked out his O.W.L.s?' But when you pulled that prank, I thought it might mean something, so I just grabbed you and started dancing, and when you didn't hex me, I was pretty sure…but you see, there was already one other thing—a silly little thing, really—but when I noticed it, I thought that maybe you liked me, too."

"What do you mean?" Hermione said, confused.

"This past summer—you started calling us 'George and Fred' sometimes instead of 'Fred and George'."

"So?"

"So, no one has ever called us 'George and Fred' before. Not even Mum and Dad."

"Never?"

"Hey, if you're calling both of us together, why bother switching it. Why did you?"

"I…I don't know. I didn't really even notice it. I think it was just the 'Gred and Forge' thing throwing me off."

"Well, I noticed," he said. "It's not like I mind taking second billing most of the time, but when you switched it around, it was like you actually noticed me over Fred, and it felt…well, really good. That…that doesn't happen very often."

Hermione gave him a half smile. "And why not?" she said. "Let's be honest; I don't think Fred is as thoughtful as you are. And he's definitely more reckless. I don't mean to talk against him—" she added quickly.

"No, I get it," George said. "Most people think we're completely interchangeable. Hell, I don't think our own brothers realise we're two different people half the time. But you never get us mixed up. I can't remember one time you have. Even Mum doesn't always get our names right."

"Only because you actively try to confuse her. If you tried to mess with my head like that, I'd probably screw it up, too."

"Well, there's that. I mean, we've practised our whole lives to be able to finish each other's sentences. But still, hardly anyone outside our family ever notices, but you…you didn't have any trouble with it. You said you saw it a year ago."

"I did?"

"Basically, yeah. You said Fred's the evil twin, and I'm the 'less evil twin'."

"You remember that?"

"Of course I do. What—? Hang on." He stopped and reached towards her face. Hermione stiffened, but he only fiddled with her hair for a moment. "You had a beetle in your hair," he explained.

"Ew."

"Yeah." He flicked the bug away, and it flew back up towards the castle. "But yes, I remember, Hermione. You actually cared about us enough to learn that we're not the same person. And then, you started paying attention to me, specifically. We both know Fred's the more outgoing one. Better with girls, too. But you paid attention to me, instead."

Hermione had barely noticed that they were standing closer together than they were before. "Is that when you started to like me?"

"I'm not sure," he said. "Maybe. Maybe before that. It kinda of crept up on me. It might've been when you found the kitchens on your own and helped us fight Peeves with a meat fork, or maybe even the very first night when you threw the Sorting Hat for a loop." Hermione blushed intensely. She couldn't imagine her quiet, little, eleven-year-old self attracting that much attention. "I dunno, maybe that was just appreciation of the cute kid causing mischief," he said. Then he smiled: "I think the thought first crossed my mind two years ago when you told us you robbed Professor Snape. I thought, 'This is a girl who could cause trouble like we never could.'"

She chuckled a little. She still didn't like breaking rules, but that had been one of her most successful endeavours.

"So what about you?" he asked.

"I…" She thought about it for a minute and said, "I didn't really think about it before last Sunday. I think it's been coming for a while, though. I've always appreciated your magic skill, even if you mostly use them for pranks. And I can see you have more sense than you get credit for, with your store plans. And last year when you told me how you worried about me enough to look for me in the Room of Requirement—I never told you how much that meant to me…but no, I didn't consider other options until after Cedric turned me down," she admitted. "I'm really glad I did, though," she added quickly, with a smile.

George grinned as she stared up at him. He took a half step closer to her and put an arm around her shoulder. Fred would have gone for it right then. Actually, with almost any other girl, George would've, too, but he remembered how reserved and too often lacking in self-confidence Hermione was, socially. "Hermione…may I kiss you?" he asked.

She gasped softly and felt her heart start racing. She almost panicked and said no, but she remembered her mother's words and reconsidered: have fun, and maybe even kiss a boy. In any case, all she could command her tongue to say was, "I…I…I…okay."

George, more a gentleman than she had dreamed, gently held her chin with one hand as he leaned down, and she stood on her toes to meet his lips. All thought fled from Hermione's mind for several seconds—an impressive feat for her—but far too quickly, doubts started to creep in again. She didn't quite pull away, but she ended it sooner than she'd wanted to, and she started muttering, "Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God." under her breath—and not in a good way, George noticed.

"What? That bad?" he grimaced.

"No, no! It was good!" she said at once. "It's just—I'm sorry—It's just…where are we, now?"

George blinked: "In the rose garden?"

"No, you prat, I meant you and me."

George frowned. "I don't know," he said. "The kiss was good. And I think we had a really nice date…Er, where do you want us to be?"

"That's just the thing. I don't know. I'm going home tomorrow. I'll only be here twice more this year, and probably frantically trying to teach Harry how to not die the whole time. Then, I don't think I'll be here at all next year. The year after that, I'll turn seventeen, but you'll have graduated by then, so we'll only be able to see each other over holidays…"

"Oh. The classic separation problem. Well, I think that's up to you, Hermione. Um, if you want to try the long-distance thing, I can—"

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, given the future prospects," she interrupted.

"Ah. Or…we can just say it was a very nice date, and we both move on, no strings attached one way or the other."

Hermione took a deep breath that turned into a heavy sigh. "That's probably for the best," she said. "I don't think I'm ready to get that serious yet…I'm sorry, George. Maybe if things change, but—"

"No, I understand. It's a weird situation, and you've got enough to deal with already. Just be sure to keep us posted on your research."

"Of course."

"Alright, then. No strings attached," he said.

"No strings attached," she agreed. Then she hugged him. "Thank you so much, George. It really was a wonderful date."

"You've been brilliant, too, Hermione," he replied. "Come on, I think there's time to catch the last dance." He kissed her again, but on the cheek. "Say, there's something else I've been wondering."

"There is?"

"Yeah, I wasn't sure until we came out here, but…your face is glowing."

Hermione giggled and explained about her charm as and they climbed back up to the castle.

The last song, "Magic Works" was so perfect for muggles and wizards alike that it made Hermione wish for the first time that the Weird Sisters sold CDs. She found herself disappointed that she and George weren't to have a second date (to her own surprise), but she was still smiling wistfully as she climbed back to Gryffindor Tower, and she slept more soundly that night than she had in a long time.

"So, Hermione, how was the ball" Mum asked on their way home from London the next day.

"It was wonderful, Mum," Hermione said. "Thank you so much for letting me go."

"Were glad we could make you happy, dear," she said. "So, did you kiss a boy?"

"MUM!"

"Emma!" Dad said.

"Oh, she's turning unnatural colours, Dan," his wife teased. "I think that's a yes."

Dad grew very quiet. "Hermione?" he said worriedly.

"It was Mum's idea."

"Emma!"

"Calm down, you. Our daughter is fifteen and has very discerning judgement." Mum reminded him. "So, who was it, Hermione?"

"Mum, do we really have to—?"

"Of course we do, you have to tell us about your big night."

"You sound as bad as my roommates."

Her mother gasped in mock indignation. She knew enough about her daughter's roommates. "Now, that's just not fair. I think we at least deserve to know who you went with…It was your date you kissed, wasn't it?"

"No, Mum, the international Quidditch star came in and swept me off my feet," Hermione said with perfect seriousness. She saw both her parents giving her very worried looks in the rear-view mirrors, and she started laughing. Game, set, match, she thought.

"For God's sake, Hermione, don't do that to us," her mother said, though she started laughing, too. "I don't think your father can take it."

"Oi!" Dad said.

Hermione had to calm down before she could speak again, and she immediately said, "Honestly, Mum, I'm not that kind of girl. I went with George Weasley."

"George Weasley?" Mum repeated.

"Isn't he one of those twins who's always causing trouble?" Dad asked.

"Yes, only three O.W.L.s, class clown, and constant detentions for pranks; that's him," she said defensively, and the words came pouring out before they could question her further: "But, honestly, there's a lot more to him than that—both of them, really, but especially George. He's kind and considerate. He's dead clever, a lot of fun, and he's got better prospects than everyone thinks."

"Okay, we understand," Mum said. "We weren't disapproving, you know…Well, maybe your father was—"

"I'm right here, you know."

"But it's good to hear you think so highly of him. You sound pretty smitten with him."

Hermione squeaked. "Um…no, I don't think…We agreed not to take it any further," she blurted.

"Oh? Why not?"

"Different schools. Being away for ten months of the year. Plus, he graduates in another year. We might pick it up after I finish, but I wasn't ready to commit to that, and I really don't think he was, either."

"Oh, honey, that's too bad. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, even if she gave a slightly sad sigh. "We both agreed it was for the best."

"Alright, then…I hope you got photos."

"Of course I did. There was a photographer there last night." She pulled two glossy prints from her handbag and passed it up front to her mother. One was of just her and George, and the other was all four Weasleys and their dates.

"Oh my goodness!" Mum gasped. "You looked beautiful, Hermione. Even more than I imagined when we bought your dress."

"Well, I had help with my hair. And a tiny bit of magical makeup."

"It's lovely. And George doesn't look too bad, either. Don't you think, Dan?"

Dad could only afford a quick glance while he was driving, but he smiled when he saw it. "You're a beautiful young woman, Hermione," he said, carefully evading his wife's question.

"Thanks, Dad." She smiled back at him. "Oh, I've got a photo of how I caught his attention to ask me, too." She handed up the photo of George and Fred waltzing together, and Mum laughed hysterically. "Wow, you really can still surprise me," she said between gasping for air.

"I am still surprised you went with George, though," Dad continued cautiously when she calmed down. "You mention Harry and Ron a lot more in your letters."

She shook her head: "No, I don't think either of them would work out. For one, Harry and Ginny are a much better match than Harry and me. I think Harry has only two speeds: clueless and scarily intense, and I think Ginny's better prepared to handle that. Plus, she likes him a lot more that way already. And as for Ron…"

"Yes?" Mum pressed her.

"I don't know. I actually might have considered Ron before he had that big fight with Harry. It's like there's two sides to him. If you get him on something that interests him, he's amazingly driven. And brilliant. Brave, too. You can always trust him to have your back in a genuine fight. But most of the time, all that just doesn't come through. He's nice enough, but honestly, he's really lazy, more than a little immature, short-tempered, and he's got a massive inferiority complex. He can't take the heat socially. He's been better since we gave him a good talking-to after the First Task, but I don't know if I could ever date him after what he did."

"Then it's good you figured that out early," Mum assured her. "And as for George, I think all you can do is play it by ear."

"Yeah, I think so."

"It's good to have you home, Hermione," she added after a pause. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Molly Weasley said as she examined the post from her daughter the next day. "Ginny sent us photos from the Yule Ball."

"She did?" Arthur said excitedly. "Let's see. Let's see."

"Alright, alright," Molly replied. The snuggled side by side on the sofa to look through them. "There's Ginny and Harry. Oh, they look so adorable, don't they?"

"Yes, they certainly do, Mollywobbles," he said, setting aside his protective father instincts for the moment and admiring how lovely his daughter had become and how happy she and the boy who was as good as his son looked together.

"And there's Ron and…" She checked the name. "Parvati Patil. She looks like a nice girl." They didn't look like they were getting on as well as Ginny and Harry, but they seemed friendly enough. "And here's Fred…I think that's Fred…yes, Fred and Angelina Johnson—oh, from the Quidditch team. I'm sure they had a lot of fun. And the last one is…" She stopped, and her eyes grew wide when she saw the last photo.

"Is that who I think it is?" Arthur said.

"It looks like her, but…" George stood there with his date, his arm around her shoulders, she leaning into his side, both of them smiling broadly, and yet Molly still couldn't believe her eyes.

George had taken Hermione to the Yule Ball.

George Weasley had taken Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball.

George Weasley, if she didn't miss her guess, had kissed Hermione Granger.

And Hermione hadn't hexed him into next week.

Molly had honestly thought there might be something between Ron and Hermione before the mess this year, but George? She loved George as much as the rest of her children, but she couldn't imagine what a girl like Hermione saw in him. She was always so serious and studious, and George…wasn't. Only three O.W.L.s and that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes nonsense—never applying himself, like his brothers did. Even if she wasn't fond of her two oldest living overseas, they were successful and fulfilled, while the Twins only seemed to care about clowning around. For Hermione to go out with George just didn't make sense.

And for that matter, the Twins had surprised her, too, with their choice of dates. She always assumed that Fred and George would either manage to rope in another set of twins, like the Patil girls, or double date the girls from the Quidditch team or something like that. But no, Fred had taken the athlete, and George had taken the academic. Yes, she knew they weren't the same person. She could even (usually) tell them apart at a glance, but it was a shock to see them that far apart on anything.

"Well, Molly, maybe she'll do him some good," Arthur suggested.

"That would be nice," she agreed, "but I think I'm more worried about how he'll corrupt her."

Molly might have been more worried about Hermione's influence on George if she'd know that Hermione, at that moment, was hard at work on a whole list of new hexes for Harry. First up: the Tooth-Drilling Hex.

On second thought, maybe she would save that one for herself.

A/N: Lumos Atra: based on the Latin for "black light".