That evening, after Sirius had long gone, Harry broke with tradition in terms of his post-class habits. Normally, he'd sit cross-legged on the floor in one of the draughty and out-of-the way alcoves, he'd turn his back to the room and he'd plough through his homework in determined silence, snapping at anyone who dared disturb him. This was how he'd done things since his first week at Hogwarts, and was as familiar a sight in the Ravenclaw Common Room as the multi-starred blue carpet was.

But not tonight. For though Harry was still distanced away from the rest of the Ravenclaws, he'd decided to help himself to one of the grand chairs for a change. These were huge, almost like blue-padded thrones, and there was at least a foot of space from Harry's head to the top of the chair, and the cushion was big enough for him to curl his legs beneath him and still have room to spare.

Harry was in a pretty good mood, too, and there were several reasons for it. The first was that when Sirius had gone Harry left him a warning about what he would face when he returned to Spain, for he realised that he'd left Hedwig behind and she would not be amused at having to fly all the way back. Harry would not have liked to be in his Godfather's shoes and having to face the wrath of as disgruntled a diva as Hedwig.

That made Harry chuckle as he imagined the scene. But even better was the scene that he'd witnessed barely half an hour ago, when Professor Dumbledore himself had come to tell Severus Snape that he had to relieve Harry of his detentions. The Potions Master had been utterly furious, threw Harry a look as if he wanted to throttle him with his bare hands, but Harry simply returned the glare with a piously innocent one of this own. Then he left the two Professors to argue the case, as Harry laughed to himself all the way up from the dungeons.

But the crowning cake topper on his sparkling good mood was the fact that he had another letter from Hermione to occupy his evening. His homework lay in a neat pile at his feet, waiting a turn for Harry's attention, but it wasn't on his radar just now. For it had been ten whole days since Harry had sent Hermione his last letter and he was rather keen to know what had taken her so long to reply.

So, after making himself a frothy latte from the coffee station near the back of the room (because he was feeling like being a bit foofy and fancy for a change), Harry curled up into the comfy throne-chair and opened Hermione's letter.

Hi Harry,

Firstly, sorry this has taken so long! You must be cursing me to Hades and back for it! Why Hades? Well, I'm not sure if you are religious or not, so I didn't want to assume that you believed in Heaven and Hell and things like that. And I love Greek Mythology. Or any mythology, actually. So you could have been cursing me to Annwn, or Valhalla, or even Mordor, if you like. I think that counts as an underworld, don't you?

Anyway, enough of my rambling. I didn't mean to make you wait this long, I swear, but this week has been utter madness for me, and I'm sure you can guess why. It has been insane! And all because I turned down a boy for a date! I really don't understand the furore. I'm nothing, a nobody, not at all interesting. Alright, so Viktor Krum is all of those things, but seriously? I really didn't expect my rejection of him to cause such a fuss.

And no, before you think it, I don't regret my decision. Not even for a second. I'm not used to being talked about, I'll be honest about that, but I'm learning to brush it off. It still annoys me, and it gets on my nerves that some people still don't believe that I really have a date with someone else, but I'm getting better. Perhaps you can give me some pointers? You must be an old hand at this by now, so if you have any tips on how not to bite people's heads off for asking stupid questions, then send them my way!

After all, the last thing I want is to kill a random student, for saying that I don't really have a date, and then miss our night at the Ball. That would make me very cross.

And I am quite cross at the moment, anyway. I've made at least three goes to start this letter this evening, and been disturbed each time. The first was by Ron Weasley, who point blank refuses to accept that I have a date and says that he wont believe it until I reveal your identity, which I wont, so don't worry. He even said that as soon as I admit that I'm making the whole thing up, he'll not have a problem taking me to the Ball. He said that he actually realised that I'm a girl and that 'I'll do', after he was rejected by Susan Bones and some girl from the French school.

Apart from being SUCH a flattering and tempting offer, the whole idea made me throw up a little in my mouth! As if! Yuk!

That was quite a nauseating disturbance, and the second one was just embarrassing. The girls in my dorm all decided we'd better practise dancing for our dates, but the boys were terrified of getting involved. So Lavender and Parvati started doing a sort of waltz and Fay dragged me up so she could copy them. She's going with a girl, you know, so I think she wanted to get used to what it felt like to have one so close.

Needless to say I have two left feet and looked like a complete idiot! It's a good job that you wont want to dance at the Ball, otherwise I'd make you the laughing stock of Hogwarts. I'm looking forward to us sitting down and judging everyone else instead. I'd like to think I wont be catty and contemptuous, but I sort of get the feeling I will be. I hope you don't think too badly of me if I do, but I think I'd be the nasty judge if I was ever on 'Come Dancing'. Did you ever watch that television show? My Mum used to love it, but she did teach ballet when I was a kid so maybe that explains it.

My third disturbance was easily the most annoying, though. Seamus Finnigan had just got back from asking Hannah Abbott to go to the Ball, but you will know better than me how that went (as you must have seen it), because I was only interested in what happened at the same time. Because Seamus broadcast it about that Hannah had been with Sally-Anne Perks when he found her, and that she had just asked YOU to be her date, and you turned her down! Thank you for that, but I can't tell you how much the news riled me.

That presumptuous little flirt! I sort of had the feeling she was going to ask you. I mean, I bet loads of girls have, but it's quite well known that Sally fancies you. Oh … I hope you already know that, otherwise this could be so awkward for you. Sorry, if it is. But you turned her down, so that's all that matters. What did you say to her? I bet you didn't say that you had a mystery date, too, because that would be too obvious and our secret would be out by now. But you must have had to make up so many excuses for other girls … sorry, I feel like I've become a burden for you now. I hope you still think it's worth it.

So yes, I had to abandon my letter writing for a while, just until my incendiary anger stopped posing a threat to igniting my parchment! I had a few bursts of accidental magic like that when I was younger, you know. Did you ever have any? Most people I've asked said they had one or two. Neville Longbottom even bounced down the street when he was accidentally dropped out of a window. Don't ask … it's a very peculiar story!

And that's my excuse for taking so long to reply. For between every wizard and his hippogriff wanting to know why I turned down Krum and asking who my secret date is, and then me trying to plot increasingly ludicrous ways to break Sally-Anne's pretty little nose and make it look like an accident, I haven't had two minutes together to write to you. There must have been homework in there somewhere, too, but that isn't a priority in my spare time at the moment so I cant honestly remember.

But now I have time, and composure, to pen a proper reply. And that's really important because I want to make sure I get this exactly right. You said you were the same, in trying to take stock after our chat on the Astronomy Tower, so you must know how I'm feeling. Especially after what you asked in your letter! You must be going nuts waiting to see what I think about that, but I just want to make sure I put the words right.

Because I would LOVE to meet up with you regularly after the Yule Ball. Absolutely love it. I don't know why you're worried that it might not go well … it's going to be a great night, I'm sure. We'll have fun and laughs and then I'll want to do it all over again. So when you said that you would too, I knew that I had to jump at the chance. Seeing you that night on the Astronomy Tower was great, and it made my anticipation for your next letter go through the roof.

But that was nothing compared to how much I'd like to do it again … see you in person, I mean.

It's very weird for me, all this. I quite like being around people - so long as they aren't being too irritating - but they hardly ever return the sentiment. So you are the first person ever to say that they want to spend time with me … and just me. I don't have the words to tell you how that makes me feel. But they are all good ones, I promise. I'd need a dictionary, and even then I don't think I could do it justice.

So the best I can do is try to make you see how utterly sincere I am in agreeing to your suggestion. I'm fascinated to see the Cairngorm Grange, and these hiding places you have around here, and maybe you can show me where you met your Godfather in the Shrieking Shack. Oh, and you did promise to buy me a toffee apple in one of the Christmas market stalls, so we can do that too!

I wanted to ask you that, as well. Will it be alright if I write to you over the Christmas Holidays? I'll definitely want to send you a Christmas card, at least. It'd be nice to keep in touch, if you're up for that, but maybe you ought to ask Hedwig first, as I'm pretty sure Muggle Post Offices wont deliver to houses full of Dark Magic! Do you really have a severed trolls leg for an umbrella stand? That's pretty dismal, isn't it? Maybe it would look better with some tinsel, but I doubt it.

It's just one of the many things we can discuss, if you really do feel that you are able to now. I could say so many things about how I felt when you said that … honoured, thrilled, humbled … take your pick. Just know that I wont press you for anything. But I am interested in you, not your story … I know I keep saying it, but I need you to believe it. It's you I like, you I'm looking forward to spending the Yule Ball with, not some fan-made fantasy.

By the way, if I didn't make it clear with what I said about Sally-Anne above, I'd also be deeply unhappy if you were going with someone else to the Ball now. In fact, I think I'd be dangerous.

I'm still undecided on the outfit front. I'm looking forward to seeing your dress robes, though. I heard Neville and Seamus talking about Ron's the other day. Apparently, they are the height of fashion … or they were in about the 1850's! I must confess that I'm looking forward to seeing those, too. They sound hideous!

But as for us, I don't know yet. I kind of don't want to be matching at this point. I think being the same doesn't seem right for us. Being two halves to make one whole seems a better idea, like in alchemy. I think you take that class, don't you? I have it marked in gold on my homework planner, what is it on yours? Anyway, I think that as I've been trying to promote inter-house unity, it would be more fitting that we both represent something different, don't you?

Besides, I like the idea of opposites joining to make something better. It'll sound mushy, but I think I'm becoming a better girl since we started writing. I'm not so annoying at the moment. The girls in my dorm all say so, and I see it myself. I have to admit that I feel a lot happier for it too, so that must be a good thing, and I have you to thank for it.

Whatever we end up wearing, I'm sure it will be much discussed. If the level of interest I've gotten this week is any indicator, we'll probably get as much attention as any of the Champions and their partners. I bet they'll have to open the Ball. Imagine that, having to dance with the whole school watching! I think I'd be mortified, don't you? I'd end up looking like an otter than had trodden on a piece of Lego!

Excuse me if this sounds disjointed, but I'm adding it on after yet ANOTHER writing disturbance. This one's about you, as well. You're dong that a lot lately, Harry Potter! Disturbing my life! But please continue, I'm quite enjoying the interruptions.

But no, I've just been disturbed with some new about you. They're saying all around Gryffindor Tower that you've rowed with Professor Snape and landed yourself a weeks' worth of detentions! That's very naughty, Harry, and I should tell you off for it … but the rumour is that it's because Snape had a go at ME! So I'll let you off!

I don't really believe that this can be true, and I WONT believe it till I hear it from you … but look at me! I sound like Ron and all the girls who think I'm fibbing about having a date. How strange a comparison is that! If it turns out that this is what has happened, then thank you. It's unbearably sweet if it is. Stupid … but sweet nonetheless!

I just hope you aren't in too much trouble. I would try and break you out, but I'm no mischief maker. I would set Snape on fire for you if I could … I do a good Bluebell Flame Charm that I'll have to show you one day … but that might make things a bit obvious about our date! Maybe something less violent might work. I'll have a think.

And besides, part of me is quite enjoying seeing the ridiculous ideas people are coming up with as my potential partner for the Ball. Whoever thought it would generate such creativity in the student populous? At first, it annoyed me greatly that they were betting on me at all, but I think I'm starting to lighten up and see the funny side now.

That's your fault, too … all this humour and light-heartedness is so unlike me. But I can imagine you chuckling at all these random boys and objects and animals that could take your place at my side, and I start laughing about it too. It's also very funny that there isn't any serious money on my date being you. A few people have joked about it, but there are shorter odds on me going with Hagrid's dog!

Hey, maybe we should place a massive bet on it being you! We'd make a small fortune! Or would that count as insider trading?

Anyway, I think I've rabbited on for long enough, so I hope I haven't bored you. Maybe it will make up for my taking so long to reply in the first place. The problem is I now have to be really creative to get this letter to you. The betting is getting so rabid that if I'm seen within three feet of a boy he becomes the new favourite in the race to be my mystery date! I actually think someone is following me just to try and catch me out.

I just cant wait to see people's reactions when they see that it was never really a contest at all.

So, as much as I don't deserve it, I hope to hear from you soon. The Yule Ball date has been officially set for the Fourteenth of December. It had to be put back because THE WEIRD SISTERS are divas and skeptical and wouldn't play on the original date. Clowns. Anyway, that means it is exactly one month from today … and I cant wait. You'll have to keep me stocked up in letters till then, so get writing Mr Potter!

Oh, and I'll do my best to get you out of detention, but no promises.

Write me soon,

From Hermione xx

Harry folded up the parchment sheets, a silly and cosy warmth filling his chest as he considered the contents of Hermione's letter. And there were so many things that could have generated it, from her agreeing to meet up in person on a regular basis to the fact that she had upgraded to two kisses at the end of her letters. Harry knew that this was probably just a girly thing that most witches their age would do, but still … it was the first time anyone had done it to him and he was violently covetous of it.

He was just about to begin his usual post-read analysis of every line Hermione had written, when Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein came up to him.

"Wotcher, Harry! I thought you had detention with Snape tonight?" Anthony asked, taking a seat nearby.

"I did," Harry smirked. "But my Godfather came up and sorted it, so I don't have to do them now."

"I suppose it pays to have an ex-convicted mass murderer in the family!" Michael joked.

"It has it's perks," Harry nodded back good-humouredly.

"Hey, I forgot to ask," Anthony went on. "Did you really turn down Sally-Anne Perks for the Yule Ball?"

Harry nodded that he had.

"Why!?" Michael cried. "She's fit. I'd go with her, if she asked."

"And you know she's a goer, after what people said about her and Krum," Anthony added.

"What people said about her and Krum is Thestral-shit," Harry scowled. "Don't believe half of it. Sally's a nice witch, really."

"Then why did you say no to her?"

Harry had to think fast. The letter in his hand gave him a clever way out.

"Well, I'm sort of … already going with someone."

Michael and Anthony goggled at him. "You are?"

"Who is she?"

"When did you ask?"

"Tell us, Potter!"

"I cant tell you … because I don't know," Harry replied. "I signed up for the Penpal Club, you see … if you call it the Lonely Hearts Club, Mike, I'm going to kick you right in the ovaries … and my penpal is going to be my date."

"And as it's anonymous, you don't know who it is?" asked Anthony.

"Exactly," Harry nodded.

"Wow."

"Well, Potter, that's brave of you," Michael went on, impressed. "I wouldn't have been so courageous. You've had rotten luck in life, son, and it never seems to get better. For all you know, you could turn out to be writing to someone like Hermione Granger. That'd be in keeping with your streak."

Harry didn't reply, but he smiled inwardly to himself. For he knew that Michael was right, he had been dealt a tough hand in life … but his luck with Hermione might just be an indicator that his future wasn't going to be so bad after all.

Enjoying this story? Check out some of the others in my portfolio and don't forget my crossovers! They're worth a go, honest! Thanks for reading, and stay safe in these wacky times!