I have a feeling you like the ending of this one...

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Hermione


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"You want to teach me to dance?!" asked Hermione, aghast.

"Well..." began Fred.

"... Ginny told us about your little stress about dancing at the Ball." continued George.

"She refused to tell us who you were going with. Even though we insisted, believe me!" continued Fred. "But we've raised our little Ginny well, she's much better at this than we are now."

"We just know it's not Ronald, who, by the way, always manages to be more of an idiot with each passing day. Seriously, we don't know why he didn't invite you, it's obvious you wanted to!"

Hermione felt her cheeks burn a little and had to look away from George's eyes, suddenly embarrassed.

"Anyway, we know you got invited by someone else, but that you were stressing about having to dance with him."

"So we're guessing it's someone older. And Pureblood." said George, suddenly deep in thought.

"Hey, we said no guessing! You're here to dance!" interjected Ginny, and George burst out laughing.

"Ok, ok. Sorry, Hermione." said Fred. "We're just too curious."

"You'll never guess who it is, anyway. Even I'm having trouble getting used to the idea." muttered Hermione.

"Oh, Merlin, this is going to be stunning." said George, overexcited at this new information. "Is he a Slytherin?"

"George!" scolded Ginny.

"Okay, okay, sorry." repeated George. "Well, anyway, our darling sister has asked us to teach you to dance, and believe it or not, as well as being brilliant inventors, "

"Charming young men..." continued Fred in a proud tone.

"... Outstanding negotiators..."

"... Aspiring businessmen..."

"... Fantastic practical jokers..."

"... Hilarious twins..."

"... We're also incredible dance partners." concludes George. "So naturally we agreed. We can teach you a few steps, so you don't humiliate yourself."

"And what's in it for you?" asked Hermione warily, because she knew the Weasley twins all too well to know that they always had ideas in the back of their heads.

"Nothing, apart from Ron's monumental face when he sees you arriving. He's still convinced you've got no one, the fool." said Fred.

"And you won't tell anyone you trained me? You won't laugh at me if I fall?" asked Hermione timidly.

"Come on, Mione, look at us!" exclaimed George, pointing to his improvised outfit and crooked tie. "Don't we look enough like perfect gentlemen for you to dare insinuate that?"

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully. If she put her embarrassment aside, she had to admit that a little help from two dancers could be useful. It was better to embarrass herself in front of three Weasleys than the whole school.

"Well... All right." consented Hermione, garnering two big smiles from the twins.

"Great!" exclaimed Fred, clapping his hands. "Then we'll start with me, shall we? I know the dance better."

Hermione suddenly felt very exposed. She was in the middle of the Common Room, in pyjamas, socks, and her hair still dripping from her shower. Fred, on the other hand, was perfectly at ease, as usual:

"We're going to teach you the traditional waltz, very well known in the wizarding world, it's the one most people dance at weddings." he explained. "This is the waltz to which the Champions will have to open the Ball, so you'll just have to join the dance floor after the opening."

Or rather open it myself, Hermione thought bitterly. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she imagined dancing in front of everyone. Ginny glared at her.

"You'll see, it's quite simple. You just have to learn the steps, then repeat them over and over."

Fred held out his arms and Hermione approached him gently. George sat down on the sofa, right next to Ginny. The latter took her wand and tapped her witch radio, which Hermione had not seen and which she had placed on the edge of the fireplace. Melancholy music came from it.

"First, we must greet each other." said Fred.

He bowed low to her, and Hermione did the same. Then he held out both his hands and Hermione took them, moving closer to him.

"Look at your feet." Fred advised.

Hermione obeyed and looked down at her socks. Then Fred let go of her left hand and placed his palm against Hermione's hip, who felt herself blush at the thought that Viktor Krum would probably be placing it in the same place in three days' time. She placed her own hand on the redhead's shoulder and he nodded.

"First, we turn." he explained.

He spun her around with him and she felt herself being thrown to the side.

"It's two steps to the left, two steps to the right. It's the man who's supposed to lead, so you'll just have to let your partner do it. You just have to remember that after the four steps, you turn on yourself."

He raised his arm and she spun around, feeling like a complete idiot. Her wet hair dripped onto Fred's pyjamas.

"Perfect!" encouraged Fred, who stopped her in her tracks. "All right, after that, we'll start again. Turn around, two steps to the left, two steps to the right.

They did so. The sizzling violin music went into a deeper tremolo and Fred said over the music:

"And now you have to move away from me, without letting go of my hand, and look at me from a distance."

He nudged her a little and Hermione took a few steps back, stopped, and met Fred's gaze from a distance, before he brought her back with a sharp gesture.

"No, you have to turn around." Fred corrected as he saw her retrace her steps. "Never mind, we'll do it again later. Go on, turn, then two steps to the side..."

Hermione followed his movements, staring at their socks. Sometimes she stepped on his toes, or got confused and turned in the wrong place. Fred was a very good teacher, though, because he made no mocking comments and encouraged her to try again.

"Right, and at the end of the four beats of this one..." said Fred after twirling Hermione around once more. "I have to carry you."

"Carry me?!" repeated Hermione, suddenly stopping.

"Yes." replied Fred calmly, as if it was something he did every day. "So, two steps to the left, two, three, four..."

Hermione followed his gesture, until Fred's two hands came to rest on her waist and lifted her into the air. She let out a little scream and found herself above Fred's head for a few seconds, her eyes fixed on the floor. Then he spun round and Hermione let out a strangled laugh before he put her down again and smiled at her, a lock of red hair crossing his brown eyes.

"And then you start all over again." he said. "See, it's not that complicated."

Hermione didn't quite agree. They did the dance twice more, Fred's steady hands guiding her. The third time, she didn't take a single step wrong and even gained a little momentum before being thrown into the air, which earned her a compliment from George.

"Great!" exclaimed Fred. "You're doing really well! I told you it was easy."

"You were perfect, Hermione." added Ginny with a smile.

Hermione still wasn't convinced, but her stress had eased considerably. Even if she hadn't quite mastered the waltz, knowing what it looked like was reassuring. Fred pulled away from her and ran a hand through his hair:

"I'd forgotten how sporty it is." he conceded. "I'm going to have to practice before I dance with Angelina."

Hermione nodded: the dancing and the fire in front of them had made her hot, she could feel the sweat beading on her forehead and neck.

"Where did you learn to dance, anyway?" asked Hermione, accepting the glass of water Fred handed her. "Was that part of the pre-Hogwarts Pureblood teachings?"

Fred opened his eyes wide and burst out laughing, followed by George and Ginny.

"What?! No, of course it wasn't. We didn't take any dance lessons, where did you hear that?"

"Er... I read it... in a book." lied Hermione.

Fred still hadn't finished laughing.

"No, of course not. Mum taught us before Hogwarts, but that was just the basics. Not dancing! Did you hear that, Georgie?"

George laughed too, probably imagining his mother teaching him to dance. Ginny was giggling too. Hermione felt like she was being left out of a familiar joke and it made her a little uncomfortable. When Fred had finished his giggle, he explained to Hermione:

"No, it's actually worse. It was Aunt Muriel who forced us to learn it, just before the wedding of one of our distant cousins. Bill taught us the steps."

Ginny laughed mockingly and George poked her in the ribs. Then he stood up:

"Okay, my turn. I need to practice too."

He stood in Fred's place and gave Hermione a very exaggerated curtsy, to which she responded, then placed his hands in the same places as his twin had earlier. He smelt a sweet vanilla scent that reminded her of Mary, her friend from London.

"Ginny, start the music!" George called out.

Ginny obeyed and nodded as she heard the melancholy tune on the radio. She was absent-mindedly stroking Crookshanks, who had fallen asleep to the quiet music. George began the steps:

"Now you mustn't look at your feet, you must look at your partner." he said, and Hermione raised her head. "You must stretch your neck, and never let go of eye contact with your partner."

Hermione whirled around, then returned to face George, who led her to the left. He wasn't the same as Fred: he was softer, more forthcoming. His hand barely grazed Hermione's hip, unlike Fred's, who had held it firmly to guide her.

They danced to the music and Hermione's neck ached from straining to look into George's eyes. She was surprised at how right the twins were: they were incredible dance partners, both of them. They were naturally gifted.

"Don't forget the last step, you tend to come back to me too quickly." George warned as she started the loop again. "You spin, and then you come back, and then we both spin, just before I carry you." Then, in a whisper, "It's Oliver Wood, isn't it?"

"Much more scandalous." Hermione replied, then spun around.

They danced again until Hermione could no longer feel her feet. In the end, she crashed limply into the sofa. The roots of her hair were soaked from the effort, and George had taken off his tie, which hung over his shoulders because he was so hot.

"What time is it?" asked Hermione.

"1 a.m." announced Ginny. "I think that's enough for today. Are you feeling more confident?"

"I think so." replied Hermione.

Ginny tapped her radio, and instead of the melancholy music they had been listening to for hours, the station changed to a rock tune Hermione was unfamiliar with. Ginny's eyes lit up:

"Shake your head and spin!" she exclaimed as she recognised the music. "Oh, I love that one!"

"Well, since the Weird Sisters will probably be there, we'll have to train Hermione to rock too!" exclaimed George as he got up from the couch.

"What? No, it's really not..."

But she didn't manage to finish her sentence, because Fred had just pulled her roughly off the sofa.

"Come on, Mione!" cried Ginny, who had turned up the volume on the radio. "Let go!"

She had risen too, waking Crookshanks in the process, who seemed less than enchanted by the new music.

"Rock'n'roll's easy." said Fred, who was moving around her at full speed. "You just jump around, bob your head and sing the lyrics really loud, even if you don't know them!"

And then the three Weasleys let loose: they started jumping around like madmen, pounding the ground with their feet. Ginny swayed to the beat of the deafening music, which reverberated against the walls of the Gryffindors' Hall in a cacophony. She shook her head, tossing her long red hair back and forth.

Hermione stood there, wondering if they had suddenly lost their minds, until George grabbed her hand to join her in the circle:

"Come on, Mione!"

So she did. At first, she felt really silly wiggling like that. She stared at her feet as they slid timidly along the floor. But then the music began to sink in and she started to feel better and better. She moved faster, and found herself in front of Ginny, who grabbed her hands and pulled her into her frantic rhythm.

Hermione lost track of time, just laughing out loud. Fred and George were dancing passionately next to them, their eyes closed, and Hermione could feel her heartbeat hitting her ribcage in time with the music, and it was liberating. She didn't think about the steps, she didn't think about her head carriage, she just listened to the music and didn't care what she looked like at that moment.

The music stopped, and Hermione was disappointed that it stopped so quickly. She would have loved to dance for hours. Ginny was almost panting because she had moved so much, her red hair, which was usually perfectly straight, was sticky with sweat. She tied it up in an improvised bun.

"There, that's how you rock dance." George announced, both hands on his knees to breathe properly.

Hermione knew she must be scarlet, but she didn't care. She'd laughed so hard her ribs ached, it was the best feeling possible, as if all her stress had been released along with the music. She and Fred exchanged glances and went into a fit of giggles.

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The next day, Ron arrived at the breakfast table after everyone else. Hermione was talking to Ginny, but stopped when she saw his grumpy expression.

"Bad night." he mumbled as an explanation.

Harry handed him a cup of coffee without saying anything and Ron accepted it, even though he didn't like it. He took a sip, grimaced, then asked in a tired voice:

"By the way, what the hell were you four doing down there?" he said, pointing at Hermione, Ginny and the twins. "We heard you laughing until at least two in the morning."

"Ah, little brother." said Fred in a theatrical voice. "We were making what we call Art."

Hermione and Ginny stifled a laugh at Ron's look of incomprehension.

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Draco


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Draco was awoken on Christmas morning by a piercing scream. He awoke from the torpor of sleep with difficulty, and straightened up in his bed to find the cause of the scream: Pansy, who was looking at her presents at the foot of the bed.

"Thank you, Theo! It's so beautiful!"

Draco threw himself back in bed with an intelligible grunt and rubbed the last traces of sleep from his eyes. He'd taken a sip of the Dreamless-Sleep potion the night before, which had worked well because he'd slept through the night without waking.

The dream he'd had burst like a bubble, dissipating into thin air. Draco got to his feet and saw the gift that Pansy was holding between her two manicured hands: a purple journal, encrusted with precious stones. She held it as if it were a priceless treasure.

"Have you opened mine yet?" asked Draco in a sleepy voice.

"No, not yet, I was waiting for you to wake up." she said, taking the blue packet from the edge of the bed.

She tore it open and looked at the two earrings he had given her, encased in a crimson case. She already knew that she was going to receive this gift, it was she who had asked him to buy her these, to go with her necklace. She smiled all the same and threw herself into the bed to give him a hug: she had that smell of cold tobacco clinging to her skin.

"Hey, wait a minute before you do that, there's still my present." said Blaise in a falsely stern voice, and Pansy returned to her spot.

She opened the purple packet. It was a pack of tarot cards, and Pansy went off into incomprehensible high-pitched squeaks.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you Blaise! I wanted one exactly like that!"

Blaise grinned at her, the kind of grin he used when flirting with a girl:

"Don't I get a hug?"

She stood up to give him one. Draco took the opportunity to stand up and stretch a little. Then he opened his own presents, starting with those from his friends. Blaise had given him a Quidditch book, Theo an advanced potions kit for practising, and Pansy a blue-grey jumper "that made his eyes sparkle".

Draco opened his mother's parcel, which contained an impressive quantity of chocolates and sweets that he loved, along with a letter wishing him a Merry Christmas. He was careful to ignore the package his father had sent him, because he didn't want to read another threatening letter and ruin his festive mood.

Theo and Blaise opened their presents and then went to breakfast. The Castle had been completely decorated for Christmas and had never looked so clean. Draco suspected that the teachers had gone to great lengths to impress the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. There were stalactites everywhere, colourful Christmas trees in every corridor and boughs of holly intertwined along the walls. From time to time, a shower of fake snow fell on them, causing Theo to let out a shrill howl.

The four of them ate breakfast together, discussing their presents and, of course, the Ball that evening. Pansy had put on an ugly green shirt with a white collar that was far too high, so Blaise, Draco and Theo spent the whole breakfast making fun of her.

Granger was eating with Weaslette, Potter and Weasley. She was eating that porridge she loved, the cinnamon one, and Draco wondered how he knew it was her favourite. He wandered his gaze over the other Gryffindor students, wondering who Granger's date was, the question he'd been asking himself constantly the last few days.

"Who's Potter going to the Ball with?" asked Theo suddenly, bringing Draco back to reality.

Pansy shrugged, which made the lacy shoulder pads that adorned her shirt go up, which Blaise found particularly funny.

"Parvati Patil I think. Gryffindor." she said. "And Ron Weasley is going with her twin sister, in Ravenclaw, Padma."

Draco wondered why Pansy was shrugging when she had the exact answer to the question. Draco risked, in a tone he wanted to be as casual and disinterested as possible:

"What about Granger?"

He felt Blaise's gaze on him, which he ignored. Pansy let out an evil laugh through gritted teeth:

"No one, I suppose. Who'd want to invite that to the Ball?"

"I heard Weasley say she had a date."

Again he felt Blaise's burning gaze on his cheek but he was careful not to turn to it, staring instead at Pansy's black lips as she finished chewing her muffin to reply:

"It must have been a lie. If she doesn't go with Weasley or Potter, I can't think of anyone who'd want to take her to the Ball."

Draco nodded, even though he didn't agree. Knowing Granger's personality, if Weasley hadn't invited her, she might be capable of plotting some grandiose revenge. He felt his heart rise in his chest at the thought, so he drank his glass of pumpkin juice to bring it down.

"And Ginny Weasley, who's she going with?" asked Blaise abruptly, and Pansy frowned.

"She can't go to the Ball, she's in third year, isn't she?"

Blaise gave a little "ah." and continued eating.

After breakfast, Pansy asked them if they could go for a walk in the snow and they agreed, with reluctance on Theo's part. Of course, they soon realised that the reason Pansy had asked them was so they could have a cigarette. They walked through the snow, their feet sinking into the white layer.

"I'm going back." said Theo, who was shivering.

"I'll be right behind you." said Pansy as she threw her cigarette butt into the snow, leaving a large black trail.

"I'm staying here for a while. Could you pass me one, Pans'?" asked Draco, pointing to his pack.

"Me too." said Blaise instantly.

Pansy handed them two cigarettes and went back into the Castle with Theo. Draco stuck the cigarette between his lips and Blaise lit it with the tip of his wand, as Pansy did, then lit his own in the same way. They moved away from the Castle to avoid being seen and went to sit on a bench.

Draco was afraid that Blaise had stayed to talk to him about Granger, but luckily, he did not. He just watched the horizon silently, lost in thought, taking a drag on Pansy's cigarette from time to time. Draco did the same. The cigarette had the gift of loosening his throat, which was tight with anxiety. And even if it was only for a few minutes, if it relaxed him, he took it.

When the cigarette butt became a pile of ashes between his fingers, Draco threw it into the snow and wiped the residue from his hands onto his trousers. Blaise was next to him, and even though they didn't speak, Draco enjoyed his company. Silence was always comfortable with Blaise, just as it was with Pansy. He was calm, composed, scanning the horizon without seeing it, and Draco was grateful for that, it kept him from becoming anxious.

After a while, when Draco's ankles were completely frozen by the snow, Blaise got up and they returned to the Castle. Without saying a word, Blaise put a hand on Draco's back and tapped it twice, as a gesture of support, and Draco felt all the affection he had for him in this simple gesture. Perhaps he had seen that he was under stress?

They returned to the Common Room and went down to the dormitories. Blaise opened the door and they saw a strange sight: Theo was sitting on a chair opposite them, shirtless, with a towel tied round his neck. Draco could see his thin white scars stretching from his stomach and arms, all the way to his neck.

"What are you doing?" asked Blaise.

Theo rolled his eyes and Pansy returned from the bathroom with a bottle of potion and said:

"Here it is!"

Then she looked at the two boys, still in the doorway, and arched an eyebrow.

"Why don't you come in?" she asked.

"What's happening?" repeated Blaise.

"I'm cutting Theo's hair." Pansy replied naturally, stepping up behind Theo. "For the Ball."

"And you agreed to this?" asked Blaise with a hint of amusement at Theo's address.

"No choice." he muttered. "I'm practically under Imperius' spell."

"Nonsense!" disputed Pansy. "You're the one who told me you couldn't see, I'm just cutting off a few inches!"

Theo muttered something. Draco went and sat down on the edge of his bed and asked:

"And you let Pansy do that?"

"After that fringe accident last year?" added Blaise.

"Hey!" exclaimed Pansy to interrupt them, waving the scissors in front of her. "Shut up and let me concentrate!"

She bent over the back of Theo's neck and began to cut a few strands. Every time the scissors clicked, the boy closed his eyes as if it physically hurt. Pansy worked on his hair for about twenty minutes, and soon little piles of brown locks were littering the floor.

"There, finished!" said Pansy proudly.

She held out her pocket mirror to Theo, who looked at his reflection, his face taut with anxiety. When he saw her hairstyle, his features sank:

"Oh. That's..."

"Nice." said Blaise, looking at the boy's hair.

Pansy had cut off a few inches, so his curly locks no longer fell in front of his eyes or over his ears. It was shorter in some places, and it definitely cleared his face, while retaining the mass of curly hair where Theo often ran his hand.

"See?" said Pansy with a hint of arrogance. "I told you it would be pretty."

"Well done Pans'." complimented Draco. "I didn't know you could cut hair so well."

"Thank you." she said as she applied a viscous potion to Theo's hair to flatten it a little. "I've been doing my hair every day for years, I learned to do it myself."

Draco admired his best friend's talent, of which he had no idea. Seeing him approach Theo's hair, she offered:

"Do you want me to do it for you?"

"Out of the question." snapped Draco, to which both Blaise and Theo laughed.

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Hermione


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Hermione was watching Fred throw a huge snowball at Ron's neck when she realised it was already 5pm. She got up from the bench she was sitting on in the Hogwarts courtyard, and extinguished the blue flames in her jam jar that were keeping her warm.

"I'm going upstairs to get ready for the Ball." she announced to the boys.

Harry nodded without looking at her, too busy aiming at George to reply to her. Ron, however, looked up to ask her incredulously:

"You need three hours for that?"

George threw a snowball at him just then, which fell in the exact spot Fred had just hit. Ron made a strangled complaint and threw a projectile at his brother.

"Who are you going with?" Ron called behind her back, but she only replied with a vague wave of her hand.

The fact that he was curious to know who her date was was a little flattering. Only a little. But Hermione refused to place any importance on it, still too pained by the fact that he hadn't invited her.

"Wait for me, Hermione!"

Ginny joined her, dripping with slush.

"Shall we get ready together?" offered Ginny, putting her arm in Hermione's.

Hermione was relieved: she had been afraid that Ginny had planned to get ready with her girlfriends and that Hermione would have to make herself beautiful alone. She nodded and they walked together to the Common Room.

Ginny was updating her on the latest gossip she'd heard that morning when they were stopped in their tracks by someone. Hermione looked up and her heart leapt into her throat as she saw the dark eyes of Krum, miraculously alone in a corridor.

"Hello Hermy-own." he said with a small smile. Then he greeted Ginny with a shake of his head, like a little curtsy, and Hermione felt Ginny stiffen slightly beside her. "Are you still up for tonight?"

Hermione nodded a little too quickly:

"Yes, yes, of course! And you?"

Krum's smile widened. He exuded kindness.

"Yes, of course. I can't vait to see you tonight."

He took her hand, the one that wasn't already occupied by Ginny's arm, and kissed her lightly on the knuckles, the kind of kiss that barely grazes the skin. Hermione felt herself blush instantly.

"Perfect." she stammered, well aware of Ginny's wide eyes as she detailed them intently. "See you tonight then, Viktor."

He nodded and walked away, presumably to join the Durmstrang ship outside. Hermione carried Ginny away quickly so she wouldn't explode too close to Krum.

"Merlin! Hermione, he's totally in love with you! It's obvious!" Ginny cried as soon as they left.

"Nonsense, we've spoken three times since September." Hermione said in a low voice. "And I remind you that you said the same thing about Ron this summer, and it doesn't seem to be the case at all."

"Hermione, did you see the way he was looking at you? He was devouring you with his eyes, I was almost embarrassed to be there! Merlin, he's going to make you dance all night. Maybe he'll kiss you!"

Hermione felt the stress rise in her as she heard those words. She hadn't thought of that at all.

Ginny invited Hermione into her dormitory to get ready. Hermione learned that none of her housemates had been invited by anyone older, so they had all gone home for Christmas. So Ginny used the centre of the dormitory to put the three duvets from the beds on the floor, then threw all her toiletries, hair potions and make-up on the floor.

"We'll set up here." Ginny said decisively. "We'll put the dresses on at the last minute, I'm afraid I'll stain them if we put them on now. Do you want me to start with your hair or make-up?"

Hermione shrugged, having no idea what she was planning to do. Ginny gave Hermione's hair a sceptical look and decided for herself:

"Let's start with your hair."

She reached behind her mane and began trying to untangle it. Then she applied a potion, combed it, parted it, smoothed it with her wand, and lots of other things Hermione couldn't see. In any case, she knew that Ginny would do a better job than her, so she decided to let herself be done.

After a while, Ginny fetched her radio and put on her favourite channel, which played rock music. Ginny knew them all and even sang over the lyrics from time to time. Sometimes the music was interspersed with programmes that talked about celebrities Hermione didn't know at all.

"There, finished!" announced Ginny, letting go of Hermione's hair.

The latter had almost dozed off, relaxed by Ginny's caresses against her skull. She opened her eyes and found herself face to face with her reflection from the mirror her friend had placed in front of her.

"Oh, Ginny!"

Hermione contemplated her hair as if it were someone else's. Her hair was straight, slightly wavy. It was nothing like the shaggy mass on her head all the time, it even shone with an impressive sheen, probably thanks to the potion Ginny had applied to it.

"Look, we're almost the same!" exclaimed Ginny as she stood next to her in the mirror.

Indeed, Hermione's hair resembled Ginny's long hair, which fell perfectly over her shoulders. Hermione had always been secretly jealous of the texture of Ginny's hair, dreaming of having it as tidy as hers. Now that it was done, she hardly recognised herself in the mirror.

"I'll put your hair up in a bun." Ginny decided. "That way you won't have them in front of your eyes when you're dancing with Viktor."

"Do what you want Gin', I trust you."

The redhead smiled and moved back behind Hermione to gather her hair. Hermione watched her work through the mirror, impressed by the dexterity of her expert fingers.

She finished by putting her hair up in a low bun, just above the nape of her neck, which was beautifully decorated with little clips reminiscent of the colour of her dress. Only her two front wavy locks surrounded her face. Hermione was surprised to see that when her hair was styled, it was surprisingly long.

Ginny's hair took less time. Her hair was already perfectly combed, so all she had to do was plait it at the sides. Then she moved on to the make-up: she went gently on Hermione, who wanted her face to look as natural as possible. Her eyes were simply lit up with a touch of gold and her lips combed with a thin layer of shiny pink lipstick.

Once they were ready, they put on their robes, taking care not to mess up their hair. For Christmas, Ginny had bought her a pair of low-heeled shoes to match her dress, which were perfect for dancing.

They looked at themselves in the mirror one last time. Hermione's vision was unreal, she had never felt so beautiful. Ginny was gorgeous too, her water-green dress contrasting gallantly with her red hair.

"I hope there are photographers there, I definitely want a memory of this." Ginny said, pointing to their reflection. "We look so beautiful!"

Hermione agreed. She wanted to send a photo of her dress to her parents.

Ginny asked if she was ready to leave and Hermione was stunned to see that it was almost time for the Ball to start. The afternoon had flown by so quickly! She checked that her dress was on properly and walked down the seven flights of stairs with Ginny.

Hermione realised that she had no idea when or where she was supposed to meet Krum. Viktor. They hadn't arranged to meet. Perhaps she was only supposed to meet him when the dancing started?

They reached the top of the stairs and glanced towards the entrance to the Great Hall. Hundreds of students were already there, in an array of colours. Not a Krum in sight.

"Where is he?" Hermione asked in a slightly panicked voice as she fell back against the corridor wall.

"Don't worry, he'll be here soon." Ginny reassured her as she looked out over the crowd. "There don't seem to be any Durmstrang students there. I wonder where Neville is. Oh, look, there's Harry."

Hermione shifted slightly so she could see. Harry was indeed there, with his back to them, she could recognize him by his unruly black spikes. He was accompanied by Parvati who had a pretty traditional pink dress and golden strands in her black plait. Hermione couldn't see Ron.

Suddenly, the front doors opened and the Durmstrang students entered the room. They were all dressed in blood-red evening gowns, and Viktor was in the lead. He looked around for her, and then Ginny waved discreetly for him to notice them.

"Ginny!" croaked Hermione.

"What? He's got to see you. He'll wonder if you've cancelled, otherwise." said the redhead.

Hermione was on the verge of giving up. She was so stressed that her hands were shaking. She wondered if it wouldn't be better to turn back and lock herself in the Common Room with a book and a hot cup of tea.

But when Viktor saw her and his face lit up, she knew in her heart that she couldn't let him down. He would be too upset. He approached the bottom of the steps and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Go on, off you go!" urged Ginny, gently nudging her back. "Go and join him. And keep your head up! And don't get your feet caught in your dress!"

Hermione obeyed. At first she was all stilted and didn't dare look at anything but Krum's dark eyes at the bottom of the steps. Then, at the end of the fifth step, she loosened her grip on the banister a little and smiled. She ignored the outraged looks of the other students, focusing only on Krum's reassuring gaze as he waited patiently for her.

She went down a few more steps before Parvati nudged Harry. He turned round and his eyes lit up when he saw her. He smiled, a genuine, proud smile, obviously amazed, and that gave her a boost of confidence.

Viktor bowed to her once she was downstairs, and took her hand to place the same kiss on her knuckles as he had done that afternoon, barely touching her skin. Hermione heard exclamations of surprise ring out around them.

"Hermy-own, you look splendid." he said in his deep voice.

"Thank you Viktor, you look very elegant too." she replied, her cheeks possibly scarlet.

"May I?"

It took Hermione a while to work out what he meant, until he pointed to her wrist. She held it out to him, and he fastened a bracelet of small red roses to it.

"It goes vith my outfit." he explained, pointing to hos red dress.

"Thank you, Viktor, it's beautiful." she said, gazing at his wrist.

She was suddenly aware of the hundreds of stares fixed on her and Krum. Parvati's mouth was hanging open and her eyes were wide. Hermione was grateful to Ginny for approaching at this moment.

When Viktor saw her coming, he gave her a little curtsy, to which Ginny replied with a timid "hi!". Neville was accompanying her, and he had also given her a wreath of green flowers which she had hung on her wrist and which went very well with her dress. When he saw Hermione's date, he recoiled almost in shock.

"There's a photo station outside!" exclaimed Ginny. "Would you like to go and take some photos?"

They agreed and Viktor offered Hermione his arm to hold onto. They walked out into the coolness of the park, where the lawn housed a sort of vaulted grotto, in which the couples posed facing a wizarding camera. The grotto was decorated with strings of lights and real golden fairies flitted around to illuminate the scene.

"Shall we?" suggested Ginny to Hermione, who nodded.

Viktor waited a little further away while Ginny and Hermione queued for the photocall. They watched Fleur Delacour having her photo taken, dressed in a beautiful silver satin dress, accompanied by a boy who didn't seem to believe his luck. Ginny told her in a whisper that it was Roger Davies, a Ravenclaw student.

When it was their turn, Hermione had goose bumps all over her arms. They positioned themselves in front of the camera and hugged each other. Ginny tilted her head and Hermione smiled with her newly shortened teeth. The flash on the camera went off and Ginny rushed to get the two pictures.

Ginny showed Hermione, and she watched the moving picture, lit by the flashes of the light fairies. They were both smiling, nodding their heads in a loop. Hermione was still struggling to realise that the hair in the photo was the same as her own.

"You two look gorgeous." Viktor said when he saw the photo.

Neville nodded shyly in agreement. They were about to go back inside when Ginny exclaimed:

"Hey, you two should have one too!"

Hermione was freezing, but she agreed when she saw Viktor's delighted look at the idea. They stood in front of the camera, and just before the flashbulb went off, he put an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him.

"Champions, please stand in front of the Great Hall doors!" came McGonagall's voice through the door. "The Ball is about to begin!"

Ginny stuffed the photos into her bag and walked away with Neville after wishing Hermione "good luck!". The anxiety of the last few days seemed to explode in her chest. She was going to be dancing any minute and she felt as if she had forgotten all about the twins' lessons.

Fortunately, Viktor's tranquillity kept her in check. He simply held out his arm to her once more, murmuring:

"Ready?"

Hermione took a deep breath, interlaced her arm in Viktor's, and nodded.

"Let's go."

.

.


Draco


.

.

Five hours. Pansy had been getting ready with Daphne for five hours. What's more, she had promptly kicked the boys out of their own dormitory to get settled, claiming that her dress was there and that they couldn't see it until she was ready. Theo had just had time to pick up his book before she slammed the door in their faces.

Draco, Blaise and Theo were thus entrenched in the Common Room. For once, there was no party going on, everyone was getting ready for the Ball this evening. The only students who were there were quietly reading or playing.

The three boys were already dressed for the Ball, having to change in Daphne and Pansy's dormitory, which made absolutely no sense. Draco had put on the suit his mother had packed for him, a simple black one. Blaise was wearing a slightly lighter suit, and Theo had borrowed one of Blaise's evening clothes, which was a little too big for him.

Theo had settled down to read by the fire. Blaise was preparing something that Draco couldn't see in a corner of the room, and Draco was deep in thought.

The flames in front of him were greenish, reflecting the light of the Lake behind the windows. He watched them dance, wondering for the thousandth time with whom Granger could go to the Ball.

His thoughts were broken abruptly when Crabbe and Goyle came to sit beside him.

"Hi Draco!"

"Hi guys." the blond replied mechanically.

It took him a few seconds to realise that Goyle was handing him a package. He arched an eyebrow and saw Theo look up from his book.

"It's a Christmas present." Goyle said as Draco took it.

He didn't hide his surprise, Crabbe and Goyle had never given him anything before. He unwrapped the small square package.

"A Sneakoscope?" said Draco, looking at the round fidget spinner.

"Yes! Does it make you happy?" asked Goyle.

"Yeah, it's great." said Draco, even though he already had a dozen Sneakoscope at home. "Thanks guys."

He realised he had nothing to offer them in return. He hadn't planned to buy a present for Crabbe and Goyle at all. He was in too festive a mood to send them away, so he grabbed the package his mother had sent him that morning.

"Here, this is for you." he said.

Crabbe and Goyle gawked at all the goodies:

"Thanks Draco! You know us well!"

And they stuffed their faces a little further away. Theo had a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Shut up." warned Draco.

"So, which one is your lover?" he said in a honeyed voice.

"Shut up Nott." repeated Draco, even though he was smiling a little.

Blaise returned at that moment, his face animated with a rare malice.

"Look what I've done!" he murmured, proud of himself.

He showed him several glass bottles of Butterbeer. Draco raised his eyebrows:

"You stole bottles for the children?"

"Smell them." ordered his best friend.

Draco lifted the bottle to his nostrils and was immediately assaulted by the smell of Firewhisky.

"I've replaced them all with strong drinks, so the teachers won't notice anything." explained Blaise. "Clever, isn't it?

Draco nodded, before hearing Pansy's shrill voice from the dormitory corridor:

"I'm ready!"

Draco forced himself not to roll his eyes and followed Pansy's cackle to the dormitories, closely followed by Theo and Blaise. They arrived at the door and Draco opened it unceremoniously.

Pansy was in the middle, in the same place as Theo had been that morning when he'd had his hair cut. Draco had seen Pansy in a dress dozens of times on special occasions and at their parents' dinners, but this one was nothing like her usual style. Her dress was pink, with lace all over, and fell to her feet. She'd cut her fringes, so her hair was a little longer, straight and bright.

"Wow." said Theo behind Draco when he saw her.

"You look beautiful, Pansy." said Blaise.

Pansy smiled at the compliments and spun around, fluttering her dress as she went.

"Thank you. Do you like it, Draco?"

He nodded several times.

"Yes, you look amazing."

She seemed pleased with the compliment. It was so rare to see her in pink, she only dressed in black or dark green. It made her look younger, as if her features were lit up by the pale colour. Her porcelain-white skin brought out the colour of her dress.

"Shall we go?" suggested Draco.

"Where?" asked Pansy.

He frowned.

"Er... to the Ball? I don't know if you've heard, but there's a Yule Ball going on, it's in the Great Hall..."

"You're supposed to be picking me up." she pointed out.

Draco frowned further.

"Pans', you're in my dormitory."

"So? Come out and knock on the door."

Draco sighed and refrained from pointing out that he had seen her naked only the day before. He closed the door and knocked gently on it, and Pansy answered, "Come in!"

Draco came in again and Pansy had a goofy grin on her face.

"Would you do me the extreme honour of accompanying me to the Ball, Miss?" he asked, full of irony.

Pansy nodded and approached him. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, her skin icy cold. Then he took her wrist and hung a bracelet of flowers on it, white roses, her favourite.

"Oh, thank you, Draco." she said sincerely.

"Are we ready?" he asked everyone.

They returned to the Common Room and Daphne was waiting for them there. She had tied her hair up in a complicated hairstyle which Draco found downright ugly (and which did not deserve five hours of preparation), but Blaise was delighted with it. She was wearing a midnight blue dress which showed an impressive amount of cleavage.

Blaise also hung a small flower bracelet on her, then offered her his arm, and they all walked together towards the Great Hall. Pansy was holding Draco's arm tightly, he didn't know if it was to prove that they were good horsemen, or if it was because she was afraid of falling in her high heels.

Crabbe and Goyle joined their group halfway, both dressed in the same tight green wizard robes. Draco saw that Theo had to restrain himself from making a mocking comment.

They reached the top of the dungeon steps and came upon the entrance to the Great Hall. All the students were waiting for the doors to open, and Draco found himself faced with a crowd of colours and textures. He looked up to try and see Granger's tuft among the students, but he couldn't find it.

"Lavender Brown's dress is hideous." Pansy commented in a low voice in Draco's ear. "Diggory put on a pretty colour, it suits him. Chang isn't great, I'd have left her hair down, it looks much better on her."

He let her analyse the guests without really listening to her. Where was Granger? Maybe it was a ruse, maybe she didn't have a date?

They walked into the Hall and Draco spotted Potter, who obviously still hadn't learned how to comb his hair. Weasley didn't seem to be there. Draco scanned each student carefully, trying as hard as he could to find Granger.

Theo was already embarrassed, Draco could tell at a glance. He couldn't stop fidgeting. Fortunately, Tracey Davis approached him and they began to chat, which seemed to relax the boy a little. Several students were joining the crowd, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to spot Granger.

All of a sudden, Pansy let out a cry of astonishment beside him. She was staring at something at the top of the stairs, and when Draco turned towards it, his heart stopped.

Granger was at the top of the stairs. And she was beautiful.

She was wearing a periwinkle blue dress, perfectly fitted, hugging her form as if it had been made to measure. Her hair was slicked back and styled in an elegant bun that was nothing like her usual hairstyle. She sparkled, literally. He almost didn't realise it was her until she smiled, and then he recognised her.

She came down the steps slowly, like an angel, and Draco couldn't take his eyes off her, because she was so beautiful.

And it was at that very moment that he realised he was in love with Hermione Granger.