notes :
- there is a slight deviation from canon in the chronology of events
- I listened to the playlist "songs that remind me of hogwarts" by not lovely malfoy on youtube, so if you like reading while listening to music I recommend it :)
- if you find the reference I used to write the scene with Ginny in Hogsmeade, you get 10 points for your House! :))
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Hermione
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"Hello." said Krum in a deep voice.
Hermione realised that this was the first time she had heard the sound of his voice. It was nothing like she would have imagined, his strong accent mingled with the tone of his husky voice.
Hermione answered nothing, too flabbergasted to remember that she possessed the ability to speak.
"You're Hermy-own, aren't you?" the boy continued. "Can I sit down?"
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. She thought back to the giggling girls' fan club and immediately shut her mouth.
"Yes, of course." she stammered.
Krum sat down on the chair closest to her. Having no idea what he was doing there, Hermione passed her gaze between him and her book, looking for something to say. Eventually, he said:
"I see you here often."
"Yes, I often come here to work." she said, trying as hard as she could to adopt a normal tone. "Do you come here often too?"
It was a silly question, she'd seen him come here every day since September. Krum nodded:
"Yes, it's pretty quiet."
Seeing him so close, Hermione was surprised to see that he was much less intimidating than she had imagined. He was young, she could tell when his features weren't tense, as they usually were. His pale skin contrasted with his close-cropped black hair and his dark eyes that detailed her. Her. Hermione Granger.
What on earth was he doing there? Maybe he wanted to ask her to do an essay for him, in exchange for payment.
"Vat are you reading?" asked Krum amiably.
She leaned over her book and stammered a little:
"Er... It's... Just a book. Not for school."
Her sentence made no sense. She had to pull herself together, it wasn't like her to be intimidated like that by someone.
"Vat is it about?" questioned Krum.
"It's... a story about a prisoner in Venice who manages to escape." she explained, tapping her fingers on the cover.
"And you like it?"
Hermione had no idea what he was getting at. If he wanted a favour, he might as well ask for it straight away, instead of trying to be friendly like that.
Hermione thought back to Ron who, only two days before, had spent twenty minutes thinking up a plan to accost Krum and ask for his autograph 'casually'. Hermione and Harry had ended up crying with laughter behind cushions.
"Yeah, it's fine." she said, lowering her head to the cover of her book. "I really like this style of writing, adventure novels are my favourite, I think. Especially ones set in a historical context, it's..." Hermione realised that she was ranting far too fast and that Krum was having trouble keeping up. "Exciting." she finished piteously.
"I like it too. There are not many books in our library, back home in Durmstrang." replied Krum.
"Oh, yeah?"
"No, just for the classes."
Hermione noticed that Krum had a scar running from his left eyebrow to his shaven head, and another across his nose. She wondered if it was because of his injury at the Quidditch World Cup. In fact, she could hardly believe that the boy who was talking to her now was the same one she had applauded last summer.
"Any-vay..." continued Krum, suddenly a little more hesitant. "I saw that you vere quite... popular, here at Hogs-varts."
She almost burst out laughing at that term, which was the furthest thing from reality.
"What? What makes you say that?" she asked.
"I often see you sharing tables with other people." explained Krum with an embarrassed smile. "Harry Potter, and the red-hair, and the chubby boy, and the Slytherin blond boy..."
Hermione immediately lost her smile when she heard the last one.
"Oh no, no, no." she said in a noticeably panicked tone. "I don't hang out with Draco Malfoy anymore, it was... a simple... Could you please not tell the others about this? A friendship between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin would be bad form."
Krum nodded:
"I understand, Hermy-own, you are a very pretty girl, it's normal that you have a lot of suitors."
Hermione thought about the shaggy hair she had when she studied in the Library and wondered if Krum had mistaken her for another girl. Maybe his World Cup injury had damaged his brain?
"Suitors?" repeated Hermione, dazed.
"Yes... I knew I had to be quick, if I vanted to have a chance... I suppose one of those boys you often go with is your boyfriend?" asked Krum.
"Oh. Er. No. Not at all."
He looked surprised, but probably less so than Hermione.
"Is that true? So, can I ask you if you vould go to the Ball with me?" asked Krum.
It was as if Hermione's whole head had just gone blank. She stared in amazement at Krum's suddenly serious face, waiting for it to break to reveal a hilarious face, a mocking laugh...
But nothing. Several seconds of silence passed and Krum was still looking at her intensely, no doubt waiting for an answer, while Hermione had lost the use of her tongue.
She was tempted to ask him if it wasn't a joke set up by Fred and George. But glancing around, she saw that none of the tables were occupied. Even Madam Pince was absent from her usual place behind the counter.
Hermione coughed and asked him:
"Hmm... Krum, I..."
"Viktor." he corrected.
"Viktor." she said again. "I'm not sure..."
She thought of Ron. The one she'd imagined going to the Ball with. She thought back to his obnoxious words and his lack of investment. The prospect of making him jealous was suddenly very tempting... His favourite Quidditch player...
Then, out of the blue, she thought of Draco. She thought of his discomfited face if he saw her arriving on the arms of Viktor Krum, one of the most famous Quidditch players in the world...
Without being able to control her gesture, she nodded, and the words jostled on her lips without her wanting them to:
"All right."
"Really? I was sure you vould say no." admitted Krum, who looked a little more relieved. "Thank you, it vould be an honour to be your date at the Vinter Ball, Hermy-own."
Krum stood up, gave him one last smile, then walked away from the table.
Hermione had to take a few minutes to collect her thoughts. She even pinched herself under her jumper to check she wasn't in a dream. Popular? Suitors? Viktor Krum? Her date?!
She stood up suddenly and stuffed her things into her bag, which she slung over her shoulder and headed for the exit. She climbed the stairs quickly, not even noticing that they were moving towards the west wing. The conversation she'd just had with Krum was so insane, she absolutely had to share it.
Hermione eventually arrived at full speed in the seventh-floor corridor. The portrait slid open after she shouted the password, then she scanned the Common Room for the person she was looking for in the crowd. When she couldn't find her, she eventually made her way up to the third year dormitory.
Ginny barely had time to say the words "come in" before Hermione was already in the room. Ginny was sitting at the foot of her bed, putting her things away. The witch radio they had tuned in the night before was playing deafening rock music.
"Oh, Mione!" greeted Ginny with a smile.
"Ginny, I absolutely have to tell you something!" exclaimed Hermione as she sat down on the floor opposite her.
The redhead widened her eyes at Hermione's excitement and lowered the volume of the music on the radio with a flick of her wand.
"Um... Okay, what's going on? Is it bad news?"
"No, far from it, it's just... God, Ginny, this is shocking, it's unbelievable! It's..."
Ginny's eyes lit up and she tossed the jumper she was putting away onto the floor.
"What, what, what?" she pressed, eager for gossip.
Hermione, unable to sit still, stood up and stomped a little on the spot:
"I've just been invited... someone from... My God, that's crazy!" cried Hermione as she realised what she was about to say.
"Who?" asked Ginny, growing more and more energised.
"My God, Ginny, it's... someone..."
"WHO? HERMIONE!" shouted Ginny.
"Krum! Viktor Krum!" snapped Hermione.
Ginny's face split into a shocked expression and she stood up too:
"Noooo?"
"Yes!" urged Hermione.
"WHAT!" yelled Ginny, suddenly adopting the same tone as Hermione. "Viktor Krum! The international Quidditch player, Viktor Krum? Ron's idol? The Bulgarian Seeker, Krum?"
"Himself!" exclaimed Hermione with a laugh.
Ginny, in a daze, grabbed Hermione's hands and the two of them began to dance in an impromptu dance of joy without a care in the world.
Hermione could feel her heart beating frantically against her ribcage, partly because she had just been invited by the most desired boy in school, and partly because she had just climbed a hundred steps in less than ten minutes.
"Merlin, Hermione, it's huge! It's fantastic!" shouted Ginny.
She dropped her hands and threw herself backwards into her bed.
"It's incredible!" she continued. "Imagine Ron's face when you go... Merlin, I can't wait!"
"So, you don't think I should tell him?" asked Hermione, abruptly brought back to Earth.
"What? No, of course not!" said Ginny as she stood up enough to see Hermione. "You're going to keep it a secret until the big day! You can't tell anyone, and you're going to make a phenomenal entrance!"
"Oh, Ginny!" exclaimed Hermione in a strangled breath. "I have nothing to wear, I don't have a dress in my suitcase! And I can't dance! Krum's a Champion, he has to open the Ball... My God, Ginny, I'm going to have to open the Ball!"
Hermione's excitement was replaced by anxiety. She was this close to turning on her heels to find Krum and cancel before Ginny stood up:
"Hermione Granger, I forbid you to panic."
"I don't have a dr..."
"We'll go to Hogsmeade tomorrow and buy you an outfit, alright?"
"But... Dancing..."
Ginny brushed away her concern with a wave of her hand:
"Don't worry! You're going to shine, Mione!"
Hermione bit her lower lip as she thought about what was about to happen. She'd thought she wasn't going to the Ball... And now she had to open it. All eyes would be on her, and she knew nothing about dancing.
She watched Ginny, who was already making a plan in her head to help Hermione. She felt a sting of guilt:
"Oh, Ginny, I'm sorry, I said I'd go with you..."
"Are you kidding?" gasped Ginny. "It's so much better if you go with Krum, you're going to make every girl in this school jealous! I just hope a boy invites me, so I can see Ron's face when he sees you next to Viktor Krum!"
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The next day, a Saturday, Krum wasn't at the library. Every time someone came in, her heart leapt in her chest, but it wasn't him. All the girls who usually watched him looked particularly sullen at the change in his schedule.
Hermione was sitting in her usual place, trying really hard not to smile, when someone entered the Library. It was Neville, arms full of books, perfectly on time.
He arrived at Hermione's table and gave her a small smile.
"Hi Neville!" Hermione exclaimed cheerfully. "You know, you don't have to come during the holidays, you should rest..."
"No no." said the boy. "I wanted to be there anyway."
Hermione shrugged and asked him what he needed to work on. Unsurprisingly, he asked about antidotes, so Hermione began a quick review of the lesson Snape had taught them this week. She spent about twenty minutes on the explanation, then picked a few exercises from their textbook for him to practise.
While he worked, Hermione discreetly turned her head towards the other tables. Nott wasn't there that day, and neither was Malfoy. She tried not to notice and concentrated on other things.
In the end, Neville handed her his exercise and they corrected it together. The hour had passed very quickly that day. Hermione stretched and suggested they go for lunch.
"Er, all right." said Neville. "But first, I wanted to ask you something..."
Hermione saw that his cheeks had turned pink. She frowned:
"Oh, is there anything else you want to see again?"
"No, it's not that..."
Neville was completely avoiding eye contact with her now. He was becoming more and more empurpled.
"I wanted to know..." he stammered. "Ifyouwouldcometotheballwithme."
He let out a big sigh of relief and continued, still without looking at her:
"You've always been nice to me and I wanted to know if you'd be interested in coming with me. As friends, of course."
Hermione felt her heart clench as she saw Neville's vulnerability at that moment. He reminded her of Danny.
"Oh... Neville, I'm so sorry, I'm already going with someone else." she said flatly.
"With Ron?" tried Neville.
"No... another boy. He asked me yesterday. But I would very much have liked to go with you."
"That's all right." said Neville, though he sounded somewhat defeated.
Hermione gave him a weak smile. If Neville had asked her the day before, she would have gladly agreed. Besides, she wouldn't have had to open the Ball, a prospect that drove her crazy with worry.
Neville stood up and waved to her in greeting.
"Thanks anyway, and thanks for the study session."
He trailed off, a little pained, when Hermione had an idea:
"Oh, Neville!"
He turned immediately, hopeful:
"Yes?"
"I'm not available, but I know who you can go with!" she said, standing up in turn. "Ginny! She doesn't have a date yet!"
Neville's face suddenly lit up.
"Ginny? Really?" (he frowned slightly.) "You really think she'll want to go with me?"
"Oh yes, I'm sure she will! Go and invite her, she's probably in the Great Hall having lunch."
Neville nodded several times and seemed to regain some semblance of courage.
"'Right! Thank you, Hermione!"
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Hermione went to breakfast and found Ginny enjoying her dessert with a big smile on her face.
"Neville invited me!" she exclaimed as Hermione took a seat opposite her.
"Yes, he told me. Did you accept?" asked Hermione as she helped herself to the salad.
Ginny nodded vigorously as she bit into an apple:
"Of course I did. I love Neville, he means a lot to me. I agreed straight away."
"That's great, I'm happy for you." Hermione said, pleased to know that Ginny would be there on the night she had been dreading excruciatingly.
"He told me he asked you first." Ginny continued with a raised eyebrow. "Do you think he has a thing for you?"
Hermione shrugged and wolfed down her meal in seconds. Ron was always telling her she was eating too fast, thankfully he wasn't around to make fun of her.
"Honestly, I have no idea anymore. I've had my fill of surprises and twists to figure out what boys want."
Ginny nodded to show that she agreed. Hermione quickly finished her meal and was soon on the same level as Ginny, dessert, before Ginny had finished her apple.
"So, are we going to Hogsmeade this afternoon?" the redhead suggested. "I've got some savings from my birthday, I'd love to buy myself a nice party dress."
"Agreed." said Hermione, thinking of the pouch full of money at the bottom of her suitcase that her parents had given her over the summer. "Do you know where to go?"
Ginny rolled her eyes, as if that was a particularly stupid question.
"Of course I know where to go, I've been drooling over Gladrags's dresses all year."
Hermione gave a small laugh and finished her dessert in a few bites. When she didn't have a book in front of her, Hermione had the annoying habit of eating very quickly. Ginny finished in turn, and they went back up to their dormitories to get their money and wrap up a bit warmer.
Then they went back downstairs and faced the cold along the path to Hogsmeade. On the way, Ginny talked about Quidditch, rock, and the latest school gossip, and Hermione was so engrossed in their conversation that she didn't even notice they had arrived.
The streets of Hogsmeade were as snowy as the Castle grounds. Every roof of every house and shop was covered in a thick layer of snow, so pretty it looked like something out of a Christmas film. A delicious smell of cinnamon and toffee apples wafted along the paths crowded with students.
A huge number of Hogwarts students had come, probably to buy missing outfit parts for the Yule Ball, or Christmas presents. Hermione followed Ginny as she made her way through the crowd, and then they entered a large clothes shop that Hermione had never been to before. Several groups of Hogwarts girls were already there, next to the fitting rooms.
" Hello, hello!" greeted the shop assistant, a rather short man with a large moustache and a strong French accent. He had wound his tape measure around his neck and seemed to be in quite a hurry. "The Ball, I presume? The dresses are here, my dears. Don't hesitate to ask me for any information!"
And he was gone before they could thank him. Ginny ventured into the racks of evening wear and began scrolling through the hangers at full speed. Hermione could hear her muttering -no, too short- -too tight-, -too yellow-...
Hermione looked around but had no idea what she wanted. She had two dresses at home, in London, and they were the ones she always wore on the rare special occasions. Ginny was quick to push her away:
"Leave it to me, I'll find you something."
Hermione gave up and left Ginny with the arduous task of finding her a pretty dress. She sat down on a blue bench next to the shelves and gazed at Hogsmeade through the shop window.
Ginny returned about ten minutes later and stuffed a pile of fabric into her arms.
"Try them on, and you tell me which one you like best."
Hermione obeyed and moved to one of the unoccupied cubicles. She tried on three dresses in a row, one pink, one orange, and one white. But each time she stepped out of the cubicle, Ginny made a little face:
"No, not that one, the colour doesn't go with your hair."
Hermione returned to the cabin, already in a hurry to finish this shopping session which had lasted too long for her liking. She hated it. Besides, she couldn't see how a dress could not go with her hair, whether it was pink or white. Her hair didn't go with anything anyway.
The fourth dress she tried on had a different material. It was lighter, more floaty, and Hermione was surprised to find that it was much more comfortable than the previous three. She looked in the mirror and decided that this was her favourite.
She stepped out of the cubicle and Ginny immediately gave both thumbs up.
"I love it! Do you feel good in it?" the redhead asked.
"Yes, I think so." said Hermione, inspecting the dress.
It was periwinkle blue, with a sweetheart neckline and three-quarter length sleeves. She didn't know anything about clothes, but she had the feeling that this dress looked good on her. She felt strangely comfortable in it, the complete opposite of the white dress with the plunging neckline that she had just tried on.
When Hermione pulled the tag to see the price, her eyes bugged out.
"Goodness, Ginny, have you seen the price of this dress?!"
Ginny gave her an innocent smile and went off to lock herself in the next cubicle. Just then, the salesman came up to her and made a dramatically amazed face:
"Oh, that dress looks lovely on you!"
Hermione smiled and thanked him, although she suspected the salesman must have uttered that phrase a dozen times since the start of the day. Hermione re-entered the cabin, took one last look at her reflection, then decided on the dress. She hadn't planned to spend so much on a simple outfit, but she didn't have the strength to try anything else.
Hermione changed, then left the cabin to find her place on the bench.
"Ginny? Have you found a dress yet?" she asked.
"No, not yet!" shouted Ginny through the purple curtain. "Wait, I'll show you!"
Hermione waited, looking out of the window. The streets of Hogsmeade were particularly crowded on this Saturday before Christmas. From where she stood, she could see the front of Zonko's, the joke shop, where many students were coming out with big red bags.
Hermione was making her list of Christmas presents to buy when she saw Pansy Parkinson behind the window, accompanied by her group of friends: Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, the two beautiful sisters, and Tracey Davis who was wearing a green bonnet. The four girls were glued to the window of the shop opposite, a jeweller. Pansy was showing off a necklace with envy.
"So, what do you think?"
Hermione turned her attention away from the four girls and watched Ginny. She had tried on a gaudy pink strapless dress.
"Er..." began Hermione.
"You can say it if you don't like it." added Ginny.
"... I don't like it." concluded Hermione. "Sorry."
Ginny shrugged her freckled shoulders.
"That's okay, I have other options."
Ginny entered the cabin again and Hermione returned to her contemplation of the window. Pansy and the girls were still ogling the jewellery displayed in the shop window. After several minutes of talking that Hermione couldn't hear, Pansy Parkinson finally entered the shop and bought the necklace. It looked expensive, and heavy to wear.
She wondered if Pansy would go with Draco to the Ball. He had told her that they were "very" friends, but Hermione didn't really know what that meant, because they looked extremely close for "friends". She wondered vaguely how Draco would react to seeing her dress and her date when Ginny came out of the cabin again, wearing a black dress that was far too short.
After trying on a dozen dresses, Ginny finally opted for a very pretty pale green dress, adorned with a pink ribbon that hugged her waist. She had explained to her that it was a "babydoll dress", but Hermione had no idea what it was.
They left the shop, having received many compliments from the shop assistant, and went up the street to do some Christmas shopping.
On her way, Ginny greeted the Hogwarts students she knew, and that turned out to be many, many more than Hermione, who walked awkwardly beside her. Every time she greeted someone, Ginny would then lean over to Hermione and give her a detailed biography and an update on the latest gossip she knew.
Hermione and Ginny bought their presents: a Quidditch book for Harry in the bookshop, an assortment of sugared almonds for Ron, Honeydukes chocolates for her father, tea for her mother, paintings for Danny, a set of terracotta plates for Hagrid and a self-correcting quill for Neville.
She had just enough to buy Ginny's early present, another Quidditch book which she had spent a long time looking at in the bookshop. On the way back from their "girly afternoon" (as Ginny had called it) laden down with bags, Hermione had to admit that Ginny was an expert at getting her to stop worrying : she hadn't thought about Krum all day.
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After Hogsmeade, Ginny and Hermione went their separate ways: Hermione went to the Library, and Ginny went to show off her new dress to a friend from her year.
The Library was as empty as ever, probably because the students wanted to enjoy their holidays. Hermione had decided not to work before Christmas, to clear her head a bit, so she sat down at her usual table and took out her book, which she had almost finished.
After a good hour, someone entered the Library. It was Krum. She felt her hands tighten against the page of her book when she saw him. Fortunately, he only gave her a small smile and went to sit down at a table a little further away. It wasn't the usual one, but that didn't stop a few girls from finding him. One of them even went over to talk to him, but Krum was back to his usual impassive self, so the girl left unsuccessful.
Hermione was grateful that he didn't sit next to her, she didn't want to draw all the attention to them before the Ball. She was already stressed enough at the idea of having to dance in front of everyone to face the black stares of Krum's fan club.
When the sun had set and it was time for dinner, Hermione put her (finished) book in her bag and went straight to the Great Hall. As she passed Krum's table, he gave her a discreet wave, to which she responded, her heart wavering.
She was surprised to see that neither Harry nor Ron were at the Gryffindors' table. She ate a quick dinner on her own, then returned to the Common Room, wondering where everyone had gone.
When the portrait swivelled and she entered the room, she recognised Ron's familiar laugh. She approached the sofa where Ron, Ginny and Harry were sitting. Ron's face was unnaturally flushed.
"Why didn't you come to dinner?" asked Hermione.
"Because - oh, shut up laughing you two -, because they've just been blown off by the two girls they asked to the Ball!" exclaimed Ginny playfully.
The smiles on Ron and Harry's faces immediately disappeared.
"Thanks a bunch, Ginny." Ron said sourly.
Hermione felt selfishly delighted that he had just been rejected. It was a personal victory, but she had to restrain herself from smiling.
"So, are all the pretty girls taken?" asked Hermione. "Eloise Midgen is starting to look pretty, isn't she?" She turned to Harry, who looked a little sad, and added in a softer voice, "Anyway, I'm sure you'll find someone, somewhere, who'll agree to go with you."
"Hermione..." said Ron, as if struck by a revelation. "Neville's right: you are a girl!"
Hermione saw Ginny roll her eyes.
"Well spotted." Hermione sneered.
"Then why don't you come with one of us!"
She was astonished to see that Ron hadn't thought of making this proposal several days earlier. She'd been waiting and stressing about it for days! Ron already irritated her, but now he annoyed her to no end.
"No, I can't." she asserted.
"Oh, come on." said Ron, annoyed. "We need dates, we're going to look really stupid if we don't, everyone else does..."
"I can't go with either of you. I'm already going with someone else."
She saw a flash of concern pass through Ron's eyes, before it was quickly replaced by his usual brightness.
"No you're not! You just said that to get rid of Neville." he said confidently.
"Oh, you think so? Just because it took you three years to figure it out doesn't mean others didn't see right away that I'm a girl!"
She thought of Draco, who a week earlier had said that Ron could be slow on the uptake, and she was forced to agree.
"Okay, okay, we know you're a girl." said Ron, which enraged Hermione even more. "That do? Will you come, now?"
"I've already told you!" replied Hermione. "I'm going to the Ball with someone else!"
Hermione walked quickly up the dormitory stairs before she heard Ron's sentence behind her back. This time she wasn't annoyed, she was seriously pissed. He really hadn't understood anything, and as always, he'd woken up at the last minute.
Hermione had had enough of getting worked up over Ronald Weasley. She was now more determined than ever to go to the Ball with Krum.
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Draco
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The only thing that kept Draco's mind off the accumulation of problems he was having at the moment was Pansy's incessant chatter about the Ball. She talked about it so much that Theo had even offered to pay her to stop, even though Draco suspected he secretly liked this kind of very Pansy-esque gossip.
After describing the necklace she'd bought, Daphne's dress, the guests likely to attend, the decorations, and the fact that Tracey had spent the evening crying because a certain Arthur hadn't invited her, Pansy moved on to her long list of dates for the girls she knew.
Draco waited for her to mention Granger, heart pounding, but she didn't. He selfishly hoped that Weasley still hadn't invited her. Maybe she'd go with Potter? Or Longbottom?
"Who's Fleur Delacour going with?" asked Blaise absently, who was reading his Quidditch magazine.
"Roger Davies." said Pansy, even though she'd said it before. "Sorry, Blaise." she added with a petty little laugh.
Blaise smirked.
"It's all right, I knew she wouldn't wait for me." he said with a shrug. "I'm happy with my date."
Blaise had suggested to Daphne Greengrass that they go as friends, just for a dance or two. Pansy turned to Theo, who was reading in his armchair:
"What about you Theo? Still no date?"
Theo rolled his eyes:
"Pansy, for the hundredth time, I hate these kinds of events. I have a social phobia."
It was Pansy's turn to roll her eyes:
"Nonsense, you're just saying that because you didn't have the audacity to invite Maïa."
"And for the hundredth time..." continued Theo, annoyed. "I don't feel like inviting Maïa, so stop kidding yourself and leave me alone!"
"Theo really does have a social phobia." said Blaise without looking up from the pages of his magazine. "Ever since he was little."
"Really? Then why are you friends with us?" scoffed Pansy, who couldn't believe it.
"Haven't you noticed that you're approximately the only people I talk to?" said Theo. "I spend my life reading books and locking myself in the Library, and I hate parties, or any social gathering, for that matter."
Pansy shrugged, still not convinced. Yet Theo was indeed the most introverted person Draco knew.
"So, you're not coming to the Ball?" finally asked Pansy.
"Yes, I will." said Theo with a sigh. "It's hard to be friends with you and not go to that kind of party. I'll dance with a girl and then go back to the dorm. Happy?"
Draco chuckled. Blaise then suggested going for lunch and Draco agreed, more to stretch his legs than to actually eat. They spent lunch talking about the Ball, or rather Pansy, who definitely always had something to say about the evening.
Granger was not dressed as usual. When she was on holiday, she wore her 'muggle' clothes. In this case, she was wearing a pale blue sweater with something written on it that he couldn't see from where he was, and white trousers. It was disconcerting to see her in anything other than her uniform. He was too used to the burgundy colours of her robes.
He watched her talking to Weasley, Potter and Longbottom. From time to time, she would turn to another Gryffindor, Dean Thomas, who was also involved in their conversation. Draco wondered if she was going to the Ball with him. Still, she would have preferred it to be Weasley... But if it was Weasley, Pansy would have already told him. Pansy knew everything.
Granger ate in about ten minutes, unlike all her other classmates who hadn't even finished their main course. She waited patiently for Potter and Weasley to finish their plates without glancing in Draco's direction. He felt as if she hadn't spoken to him for weeks.
He'd been feeling strangely empty ever since.
Pansy, Theo and Blaise got up and went their separate ways, but Draco stayed at the table. He pretended to continue eating, when in reality he was just crumbling a piece of bread without realising it.
Crabbe interrupted his quiet contemplation of Granger by sitting down directly opposite him.
"Hi Draco." he said in his gruff voice.
"Hey." muttered Draco. "Isn't Goyle with you?"
He made a mental note to himself that he'd never seen Crabbe and Goyle apart. It was an odd sight, it was as if the two of them were Siamese twins.
"No, he wasn't hungry." said Crabbe.
Draco raised his eyebrows, not hiding his surprise.
"Did you find a date for the Ball?" asked Crabbe, helping himself to a huge steak.
"Yes, I'm going with Pansy." replied Draco, surprised by the question. He'd thought it was obvious.
Crabbe frowned:
"Really? I didn't know that. Are you two together?"
Draco sighed, not wanting to launch into an explanation of his bond with Pansy, especially with Crabbe.
"Sort of." he said evasively. "Why?"
"I was planning to invite her."
Draco held back a laugh.
"What? But... Pansy... She's already got her dress ready and everything. Why didn't you ask her before?"
"I didn't realise it was the boys who had to invite the girls!" moaned Crabbe.
"Didn't you notice that all the girls around you were taken?"
"No..." admitted Crabbe, still puzzled.
"Oh."
"Can't you introduce me to someone? You know loads of people, don't you?" he croaked.
Draco ran a hand over his forehead. If he'd known, he'd have left at the same time as Pansy.
"I don't know, do you want to go with... her?" offered Draco, pointing at the first girl he saw at the Slytherin table.
Crabbe glared at her.
"I dunno. Is she Pureblood?"
Draco twitched at that. He looked over Crabbe's shoulder to see Granger. He saw himself again in first year, swearing to every person he met that he hated Mudbloods and would never talk to vermin. He saw himself the year before, asking Blaise if Astra was a Pureblood, just like Crabbe.
What would the 11 year old Draco have thought of the Draco of today, who watched Granger every time she came into his field of vision? Analysing her clothes and rehashing their conversations like a madman before bed?
"Er, I don't know, ask her." Draco said.
Then he saw Granger stand up, so he followed suit and lifted himself off the bench.
"Hey, wait!" exclaimed Crabbe. "You haven't introduced me!"
"Sorry mate, but I think you're going to have to go with Goyle." Draco announced in a falsely sympathetic tone.
He slipped away before Crabbe could reply and stood behind the group of Weasley, Potter and Granger who were coming out of the Great Hall to listen to a bit of their conversation:
"Oh, but here's a little tragedy!" exclaimed Granger ironically, and although he had no idea what she was talking about, her tone made him smile. He hadn't heard that scathing tone for too long, he'd missed it. "She really thinks she's something, that one!"
"Hermione, who are you going to the Ball with?" asked Weasley.
Draco was taken aback by the question. How could Weasley not know about Granger's date? Draco almost stopped, but didn't and hurried after them to hear Granger's answer. Please, no one, please, no one...
"I wouldn't tell you, you'd make fun of me." she said piteously.
Draco felt a deep wave of panic wash over him. Who was she going with, if it wasn't Weasley or Potter? He needed to know, because the fact that she was blushing did not look good.
He had to act, and quickly. He wanted answers to his questions, but given that he and Granger were no longer speaking, he decided otherwise:
"Are you joking, Weasley?" he said to the redhead, managing his voice so that he didn't sound too agitated. "You're not going to tell me that someone asked her to the Ball? A long-molared Mudblood?"
It was so strange to insult her, he couldn't find the delight he used to feel doing it. In fact, he felt a little stupid. Potter and Weasley turned in one motion, and Granger looked at him disdainfully.
It was the first time she'd looked at him since she'd called him a coward. Her chocolate gaze passed over his face for a second and Draco felt himself exist again, just for a brief second. She had a small smile on her lips, the kind of mischievous smile she had when she was about to throw in a dig or a repartee, the kind of smile he loved and had desperately missed.
Then his eyes rose a little higher and stared at something behind him:
"Hello, Professor Moody!"
Draco turned around in a quarter of a second, still traumatised by his transformation into a ferret. He wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, but sometimes he still felt like he was being tossed through the air like a sack of potatoes.
"Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Malfoy?" snapped Granger, proud of herself.
He couldn't help but smile, despite his anguish. He still had the burning desire to know who she would be going to the Ball with, but she looked away too quickly for him to question her silently. She was still ignoring him.
He watched her climb the stairs without looking back at him. He knew she had nothing to answer to him for, after all, it was he who had forbidden her to speak to him again.
Draco would never have thought that anything other than this could hurt him so much, and yet she knew exactly where to press to make him suffer.
At the very least, he hoped his reference to her teeth would make Weasley realise Granger's physical change. With a bit of luck, maybe he'd even ask her to the Ball.
Draco couldn't believe it. A few days earlier, he'd been outraged that Granger felt anything for Weasley, and now he was praying she'd go with him. Perhaps because deep down he knew that Weasley was second best. He was just a passing fancy, there was no way she was in love with him. Could she?
It was better to be Weasley than anyone else. Weasley, he'd got used to the idea. Seeing her arrive with another boy would kill him.
His footsteps had led him to the door of the Common Room without him realising it. He said the password and went straight to the table of bottles of alcohol. He picked up the only one left and a cup that had probably already been used, and tipped his head back to feel the delicious burn of the whisky on his throat.
"Dray?"
Draco turned and saw Blaise, who was sitting in the armchair. He was looking at the bottle in Draco's hand.
"What?" said Draco.
"It's not even 2pm, Dray." sighed Blaise.
Just to piss him off, Draco poured himself another glass of whisky, which he swallowed just as quickly. His tongue was burning horribly but he pretended not to feel it in front of Blaise. Blaise shook his head disapprovingly but made no comment.
"Theo was looking for you. He's in the dormitory, I think." he said simply.
"Oh."
Draco put the bottle and goblet down, then headed for the dormitories, vaguely wondering where Pansy might be. He needed to clear his head, and he was sure she would agree to help him.
He arrived at the dormitory. Pansy wasn't there, it was just Theo, sitting in his armchair reading, for a change.
"Were you looking for me?" asked Draco.
Theo looked up and closed his book straight away.
"Yes."
He stood up and showed him Draco's desk. The letter was gone. In its place was a small piece of parchment.
"I know how anxious you were about that letter." Theo explained, a little sheepishly. "So... when I saw that you hadn't written a reply... I thought I'd do it for you."
Surprised, Draco approached the desk and took the parchment in his hands. The handwriting, copied perfectly, was so similar to his own that he wondered if it wasn't a letter he had written himself without remembering it.
.
Dear Father,
Sorry for the delay, I've been quite busy lately with studies and the Ball. I haven't told anyone about what you said in your last letter, but this information is indeed very important. I'm delighted to be in the know.
Things haven't really changed at Hogwarts. Potter passed his first Task, probably by cheating, because he can't do anything else. The second Task of the Tournament isn't until the end of February, and everyone here is talking about the Ball. I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything.
I'm honoured to be the direct link between you and Hogwarts. It's a role I take very much to heart.
I hope Mother is well and that all is well at the Manor.
All the best,
Draco.
.
.
Draco finished reading and turned to Theo, who was wearing a face that was half-anxious and half-defiant.
"So?" he dared to ask. "What do you think? If you don't think it's right, you don't have to send it to him, I just thought you'd like it if I did it for you without you having to..."
"Theo, that's perfect." Draco cut in.
Theo was relieved. Draco realised that a large part of the weight on his shoulders had been lifted. The threat of the letter had weighed on him much more than he had thought.
"Really?" asked Theo.
"Yes, it's brilliant!" said Draco, looking at the letter. "And the writing... all those hours copying Crabbe and Goyle's essays finally paid off, eh?"
"Yeah, but you don't need to pay me."
Draco chuckled and folded the letter. He absolutely had to take it to Ebony to send it to the Manor, so that his father would be reassured.
"Thank you, Theo." Draco said sincerely.
"You know, Draco..." continued Theo, lowering his head slightly, his chestnut locks hiding his eyes for a long second. "When things aren't going well, instead of turning in on yourself, you should really talk to us. We can help."
Draco nodded, grateful at that moment to have such a valuable friend as Theodore Nott.
"Theo, if you weren't suffering from this terrible social phobia, I think I'd give you a hug right now."
Theo burst out laughing.
"For you, that's okay."
Draco quickly hugged his friend and patted him on the back in thanks. He sincerely hoped that Theo understood that his gesture had really touched him, he really did feel better.
"And that's not all." Theo added. "I also brought you this."
He pointed to two small purple potion flakes on his bedside table. Draco frowned:
"What are these?"
"I see you've studied your Potions well." Theo scoffed. "They're Potions for Dreamless-Sleep."
"Where did you get these?" asked Draco, taking it between his fingers to observe the contents.
"I stole them from Snape's reserve an hour ago."
Draco opened his eyes wide:
"What?!"
Theo shrugged, as if he hadn't just broken ten school rules.
"I thought you could use one. And so did Pansy, but she refuses to take any, I even hesitate to put some in her fucking green cup during her parties so she'll finally get some sleep..."
"Theo, why did you steal those potions?" asked Draco, still outraged. "If Snape finds out, you could be in real trouble."
"He'll never suspect it was me. I'm second best in the rankings, there's no reason for me to steal it."
Theo gave a proud little smile and Draco understood at that moment why Theo had been put in Slytherin, and not Ravenclaw. He had the same temperament as them, he was just more treacherous, more sly. Draco had never really seen that side of Theo, who seemed so studious on the outside.
"Come on, off to bed." said Theo, to end the conversation. "You're going to take a nap, because you really need it, you've got terrible bags under your eyes."
"And you've got the haircut of a Pygmy Puff." replied Draco.
"Fuck you, I brought you potions and wrote a letter to your father for you. No making fun of my haircut for at least a day. I'm going to the owlery to give the letter to Ebony, all right?" said Theo, taking the parchment from the desk. "Sleep, that's an order."
Draco was obliged to obey. He took off his shoes and jumper and lay down in bed as Theo closed the dormitory door, plunging him into darkness. Draco unscrewed the cap of the potion, which smelt like cotton wool, and took a sip.
The effect was immediate. He felt himself sink slightly into the mattress of his bed, and had just enough time to fold the thick blanket over him before sinking into the abyss, like two warm, welcoming arms that carried him off to a restful sleep.
.
.
Hermione
.
.
The Ball was closer than ever, and Hermione was almost as anxious as when she had used the Time Turner the year before. She had written a letter to her parents telling them that she would not be going to the Ball with Ron, but had not given many details about Krum, just that he was a boy from Durmstrang School who had come to attend the Tournament.
Danny had laughed at her when she told him she had to dance in front of everyone. "Your only experience with dancing was our dances at the London Music Festival when we were 9." he had written, and she had smiled as she recalled that sweet childhood memory.
Before it was replaced by a terrible apprehension.
She could handle the lessons, she could handle her heart problems, she could even handle the threats Harry was under. But dancing?!
So, every night of the week, Hermione did what she did best when she was panicking: she went through every book in the Library on the subject. But three days before the Ball, having just closed "Witches' Dancing Customs through the Centuries", Hermione had to face the facts. You couldn't learn to dance by reading.
She sighed and put her book down on the pile of books. She couldn't really practise in the Library on her own, she'd look completely mad.
She remembered Malfoy telling her about the classes he'd had to take before Hogwarts. She remembered that he had specifically mentioned dancing, which he had studied with Pansy Parkinson when they were younger. "Not dancing in a tutu. The real dance, the waltz." If they were still friends, she could have asked him to teach her.
She imagined herself dancing with Malfoy beside their secluded table and felt herself blush immediately. Nonsense, it was a stupid idea. She must have been really exhausted to think of such things.
Hermione was about to put her books away when Ginny entered the Library. Madam Pince gave her an unkind look, probably because Ginny tended to speak very loudly and was therefore not very well liked in the Library.
"Hello Mione!" she called, well above the volumes of Library conversation. "What are you up to?"
Ginny walked over to the table and read the title of one of Hermione's books with a frown:
"Waltzes and other classic dances for a successful evening" ? Don't tell me you're studying dance..."
"I have no other choice, I don't know how to dance!"
Ginny couldn't help laughing, and seeing Hermione's scowl, she gently took her shoulder to reassure her:
"I know this dancing thing is stressing you out. I'll find a solution, alright?"
"A solution? How can you help me learn to dance in three days..."
"Don't worry." cut in Ginny, assured. "I'll figure it out. In the meantime, come back to the Common Room with me, if I hear Parvati Patil say she's going to the Ball with Harry one more time, I'm seriously going to kill her."
Hermione smiled in spite of herself, then put each book back on the shelves. Madam Pince gave her a rare smile, probably because she had sorted her books into their proper places, and not just any place like the other students. Hermione finished her cinnamon tea that she had forgotten about, then walked back with Ginny.
"Any news from Viktor?" the redhead asked, once on the stairs, emphasising the Bulgarian's first name.
Hermione shook her head. Since he'd asked her to come to the Ball with him, Krum had only come to see her once, to ask if she'd finished her book yet.
They reached the seventh floor much more quickly than when Hermione was climbing the stairs. Ginny was much more athletic than she was, she managed to climb the stairs two at a time, and wasn't even out of breath when she got there. Hermione, on the other hand, couldn't feel her legs. How was she supposed to dance for hours on end if she couldn't climb stairs?
The Common Room was quite full. Someone had set up a wizard phonograph, which played quiet, wordless music. How could Hermione dance to such a rhythm? Would it be this kind of music at the Ball? And the band that Ginny was always talking about, were people really dancing to it?
She spotted Ron and Harry playing a game of chess, surrounded by Neville and Lee Jordan. Ron was obviously winning, as he often did, because his face was set in a cocky grin. Harry watched his queen get her head demolished helplessly.
"I'm going to take a shower." Hermione announced to Ginny. "See you tomorrow?"
Ginny nodded quickly but Hermione didn't give her time to answer and went up the stairs to the dormitory. The room was empty, Lavender and Parvati must have been downstairs.
Hermione went straight into the bathroom, undressed and stood under the shower. The hot water did a little to eliminate her fears, and she stayed under the jet of water for a long time, just long enough for her heart rate to calm down. Then she wrapped herself in a thick towel and tried to untangle her hair, without much success.
She changed into her pyjamas and returned to the room. Lavender and Parvati had returned in the meantime, both lying in their respective beds: Lavender was reading a magazine, and Parvati was getting ready for bed.
"Good evening Hermione!"
"Good evening girls." she greeted, before lying down in her bed.
She and Lavender read in silence for a good hour, while Parvati fell asleep. Her drowsy breathing soothed Hermione, who was finally thinking about something other than that bloody dance. Crookshanks had joined her in bed and curled up in a ball in the crook of her arm, purring softly against her.
Hermione finally got up and closed the curtains of the dormitory window. Outside, the sky was inky black and the moon was almost full. It reminded her of Lupin. She wondered how he was.
Someone knocked on the dormitory door and Hermione, surprised, went to open it. It was Ginny, and she had a teasing smile on her face that didn't look good.
"Ginny?" whispered Hermione, surprised.
"Come on, Mione, I've found a solution!"
Hermione arched an eyebrow. A solution to teach her to dance? So late?
She turned and met Lavender's bewildered gaze, but she made no comment. Hermione returned to Ginny, who had not lost her smile and was holding out her hand for her to follow.
"Ginny, I'm in my pyjamas. And it's past curfew already."
"Don't worry, it won't take long." the redhead replied mysteriously.
Hermione sighed and consented to put on her dressing gown to go downstairs. Crookshanks jumped out of bed to follow them, probably curious too. On the stairs, she asked Ginny:
"What have you been up to, Ginny?"
"You'll see..."
They arrived in the round room where the fire was still crackling. There was no one left, apart from the two Weasley twins who watched her arrive with the same kind of smile as Ginny, the Weasley smiles.
"Fred? George? What are you doing here?" asked Hermione, who clearly didn't understand what was going on.
Then she spun her tired brain around and realised before they could speak:
"Oh no, if you're here to sell me a new invention that makes you dance, that's a no, there's no way I'm going to be a guinea pig for one of your inventions in front of the whole school!"
"Calm down, Mione." said Ginny, who had taken a seat on one of the armrests of a sofa, Crookshanks in her lap, and was looking at her with an amused glare. "They're not here to sell you anything, they're here to help you."
Hermione frowned. Then she turned her attention back to the twins, and saw at that moment what they were wearing: they had both added jackets and ties over their plaid pyjamas.
Hermione understood at last and immediately stepped back:
"Oh no. No. No, no, no, no."
"Miss Hermione Granger, would you allow us this dance?" asked Fred, hand outstretched towards her, and smirking.