Chapter 4
Harry gloomily trudged out of the Transfiguration classroom.
It was a week before the end of term, and Professor McGonagall had just demanded that he have a date for the upcoming Yule Ball (that she'd just now thought it relevant enough to tell them about), something he had absolutely no interest in doing. In having a romantic partner period, and certainly not in trying to find and ask said date to go with him in less than two weeks. In fact, he was pretty sure he would rather face another dragon than try to find a date for a dance he was already bound to embarrass himself at, since with the dragon he at least already knew how to defeat it, but he was completely clueless on how to ask a girl to go to the Ball with him or on how to dance, neither having been social skills his relatives thought worth teaching him.
So not paying attention to where he was going as he walked out of the classroom, he ran straight into someone who was standing in the hallway just outside the door.
Looking up, he realized it was Hermione, waiting for him. And an idea suddenly dawned on him.
"Hermione, I assume from all your reading that you're aware that the champions have to bring a partner to the Yule Ball?" he asked carefully.
"I think I read something about the champions opening the dance, which would require a partner, yeah. Why?" replied Hermione, as they walked towards the Great Hall together for lunch.
Harry was silent for a few seconds, building up his courage, before asking in rush, "Wouldyouliketogowithme?"
"Pardon?" asked Hermione, stopping and turning to face Harry. "Could you repeat that just a tad bit slower?"
"Would you like to go with me? To the Yule Ball," repeated Harry slightly slower this time, though still faster and quieter than his normal voice, before rushing on embarrassedly, "But I'll understand completely if you don't want to."
"What? No, I'll go with you. Of course I'll go with you. I just can't believe you'd ask me," replied Hermione, clearly taken aback that he'd asked her.
"You sure?" asked Harry, surprised himself that she'd agreed so quickly. "I mean, I'd understand if you wanted to go with someone else instead of me."
"No, no, I want to go with you," said Hermione hurriedly before Harry could try to talk himself out of it like he'd already started doing, and rescind the offer. "I just didn't expect you to want to go with me of all people — I mean, you could have pick of any girl in the castle, so I'm just surprised you'd pick me."
There was an awkward pause for several seconds as they both just stood there looking at each other, Harry too embarrassed to say that out of any girl in the castle she is exactly the one he'd pick now that the idea had finally dawned on him, and Hermione not knowing anything else to say.
"So, uh, I guess we'll talk about when and where to meet up when it gets closer to time?" said Harry awkwardly after several seconds, unsure of what exactly to say, but knowing he needed to say something or they'd both just keep standing there in ever increasingly awkward silence forever.
"Yeah. Yeah," replied Hermione, just as awkwardly.
"So...lunch?" asked Harry, trying to break the awkwardness that had settled over them and return them to their normal, comfortable selves.
"Yes, lunch," replied Hermione gratefully, the relief audible in her voice, and so they quickly resumed their walk towards the Great Hall, neither of them saying anything more until after they'd sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
Crowded as usual at lunchtime, the only seats together Harry and Hermione could find when they arrived were across from Ronald Weasley.
Ever since the first task, when Harry's popularity had predictably soared after his not only survival, but first place finish, Ron had been oscillating back and forth between actively loathing Harry for all the attention he was receiving and for still refusing to tell him how he'd entered his name into the tournament, and trying to talk to Harry like they were best of pals in an attempt to use some of Harry's popularity to his own advantage. And as acquiring a girl to go to the Yule Ball with him was best served by riding in the wake of Harry's fame, that was the side he chose now.
"Got any idea who you're going to try?" he asked as soon as Harry sat down.
"Huh?" asked Harry in confusion, having no clue what the redhead was talking about. How could you 'try' a person, and try them for what?
"The Yule Ball — do you know who you're going to try for for the Yule Ball?" repeated Ron impatiently.
"You mean what girl am I going to ask to do me the honor of attending the Yule Ball with me?" asked Harry.
"Yeah," replied Ron. When Harry didn't answer in half a second, the redhead continued on, "Listen — you're not going to have any trouble. You're a champion. You've just beaten a Hungarian Horntail. I bet they'll be queuing up to go with you."
"Oh, Merlin — I didn't even think of that! I sure hope not," groaned Harry, causing Hermione to reach under the table and squeeze his leg lightly in support and sympathy.
Ron, on the other hand, completely ignored Harry's groan and began monologuing about the kind of girl he'd prefer going with, which really was just a list of physical requirements any such girl he would consider asking would have to meet. As he then moved on to complaining about how impossible it was going to be to ask a girl to the ball, and idly wondered if he could just lasso one, Harry glanced over at Hermione with a smirk, having just the slightest inkling as to why it might be so impossible for Ron to ask a girl to the Ball. Hermione smirked back, clearly thinking the same.
~HP~
As it turned out, Ron's prediction and Harry's fear that girls would be lining up to ask him to the Yule Ball turned out to be true.
The very next day, some curly-haired third year Hufflepuff girl Harry barely recognized and certainly hadn't ever talked to before asked him to go with her. It was right before Harry and the rest of the fourth year Gryffindors had History of Magic class, so after he'd politely told the girl that he already had someone he was going with, Ron, Dean, and Seamus, who'd been standing near enough to see the girl ask him and then walk away disappointed, but not close enough to actually hear what Harry had said to her, acted like one might expect Draco Malfoy or some other Slytherin to act, and taunted and ridiculed Harry about her throughout class. But Harry resolutely ignored them, knowing he would be the one with the last laugh come Christmas night when he walked into the Yule Ball with Hermione Granger on his arm.
Girls continued to ask him out over the next several days, including some too young to attend even with an older student, until eventually Harry had told enough of them that he already had a date for the Yule Ball that word spread throughout the female population of Hogwarts that Harry was already taken, and they finally stopped trying to ask him. But for the several days until that finally happened, he had to put up with his fellow Gryffindor males' continued taunts and laughs every time they saw him turn another girl down, making him wonder how any of them were going to get dates of their own for the Ball — he certainly wouldn't have gone out with any of them after that if he'd been a girl.
Fortunately, however, this was about the worst he had to deal with leading up to the Yule Ball and in the last week of classes. Despite her eagerness to interview Hagrid about the skrewts, Rita still hadn't published any article about them in the Daily Prophet, so in the last Care of Magical Creatures class of the term, Harry asked him about it.
"She didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth," answered Hagrid. "She jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Harry, since she knew yeh were in me class. Well, I told her we'd been friends since I went ter fetch yeh from the Dursleys. 'Never had to tell him off in four years?' she said. 'Never played you up in lessons, has he?' I told her no, an she didn' seem happy at all. Yeh'd think she wanted me to say yeh were horrible, Harry."
"She probably did," replied Hermione. "Now that Harry's well-liked by the castle again after he did so well in the first task, she needs trouble to be able to sell. Some breaking story that contradicts what most people think at the moment to make them have to buy a new issue — a manufactured crisis only she has the story on."
"Then she should've interviewed Snape," said Harry sardonically. "He'd give her the goods on me any day. 'Potter has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here —' I believe were his exact words after my name had come out of the Goblet."
Before Harry could really get started on a rant about Snape, or Hagrid could try yet again to defend the abusive 'teacher' like he did every time Snape's name came up, Hermione quickly but politely asked, "Are you planning on attending the Yule Ball Christmas Evening, Hagrid?"
"Though' I might look in on it, yeah," replied Hagrid gruffly. "Should be a good do, I reckon. You'll be openin the dancin', won yeh, Harry? Who're you takin'?"
"Sadly, I do have to," answered Harry, ignoring the second half of the question. "I'm really not looking forward to embarrassing myself even further by not being able to dance."
Fortunately Hagrid ran with this, possibly thinking Harry hadn't answered him because he didn't have anyone yet and was embarrassed to admit it, instead of having someone and simply not wanting to tell people until they all found out the evening of. But either way, instead of pressing Harry on who he was taking, he just replied, "Ah, I'm sure yer not all tha' bad at dancin'."
But Hermione, instead of breezing over Harry's worries that he would embarrass himself with a trite 'encouragement', had gasped to herself. Knowing Harry perhaps even better than he knew himself sometimes, she knew that if Harry said he wan't able to dance, he wasn't trying to be modest — he really didn't know how to dance. A wave of guilt swept over her for not having realized it earlier and having just assumed he already knew how to dance like she did, as it became obviously clear in her mind that he wouldn'tknow how to dance given his upbringing. She immediately made a mental note to ask him later if he would allow her to teach him how to dance so he would know before the Yule Ball, and not have to embarrass himself in front of the entire school, who would no doubt hold it over his head for the rest of his time at Hogwarts or until the next thing they could hold over his head came along, like they did every time something happened involving him.
~HP~
So that evening, as they finished up their day's homework in the library, Hermione casually said, "When you told Hagrid this morning that you're not able to dance, was that by any chance because you've never had anyone to teach you how to dance?"
Harry looked up from where he was adding the finishing touches on why the position of Io around Saturn meant his fourth death that month was going to be at the teeth of a rabid pack of rats, and replied, "Yeah. Not exactly something the Dursleys thought absolutely necessary to teach me — although that wasn't just me, I don't think Dudley knows how to dance, either. And sorry for not mentioning it to you earlier, and will likely embarrass you too Christmas night — I'll understand completely if you want to dump me and go with someone else who does know how to dance."
"No, silly!" exclaimed Hermione. "I was just making sure before I asked if you would be willing to let me teach you. And I'm sorry for just assuming you already knew how to dance just because my parents did teach me as a little girl. I wasn't even thinking that you didn't grow up in a loving household like I was blessed to."
"Oh," said Harry in more than slight surprise. "You want to teach me? You sure that won't be even worse than just suffering through one embarrassing song with me and then not having to dance any more?"
"Harry! Of course not!" laughed Hermione. "I would be honored to teach you how to dance, and as far as just 'suffering' through one song goes, I fully intend on dancing to a lot more than just one song. And I promise you, once you know how to dance and are no longer afraid of embarrassing yourself, you'll want to dance more than just one song as well."
"I don't know about that, but I'd be more than happy for you to try to teach me how to dance," replied Harry. "Just don't get your hopes or expectations up too high for my dancing ability. I'll probably still suck even with you being the one teaching me."
"Oh, I know you'll do just fine," said Hermione encouragingly, before asking, "If you're nearly done with your homework, want to go start practicing now? I'm sure we can find an empty classroom nearby to use."
For the next hour until they had to head back to the common room before anyone caught them out of bounds after hours, Hermione practiced dancing with Harry. She started out teaching him the steps to the simplest dance she knew just to make sure he'd have something presentable at the Ball a week and a half later, but Harry picked it up quickly to his own great surprise, and by the end they had made solid progress on more advanced dances. Hermione credited it to his dueling skill, as that also required quick, careful footwork — Harry insisted it was entirely due to Hermione's proficiency at teaching. But whatever it was, most likely a combination of both, Harry had made much more progress than either of them had honestly expected for his first lesson, and they readily agreed to continue practicing for an hour or so every night until the Yule Ball, so the two of them would be the best dance pair on the floor, blowing everyone's minds.
Chapter 5
A few nights later, Harry and Hermione had just returned to the Gryffindor common room following their nightly dance practice, when the twins plopped down on opposite armrests of the couch they were relaxing on.
At the table nearby was Ron, trying to build a card castle with a pack of Exploding Snaps. While they hadn't been paying more attention to him than they had to, Harry and Hermione knew from Ron's nonstop bitching about it that he still hadn't found anyone to go to the ball with him, doubtlessly due in no small part to the fact he hadn't actually asked anyone to go with him yet. But that hadn't stopped him from complaining, as if he just expected the prettiest girl in the castle to walk up to him and ask him out — doubtlessly in front of the entire school in his daydream, where he'd pretend to have to consider it for a moment, as if he already had countless offers made him, and he had to decide if he really thought she was pretty enough for him to take.
And apparently the twins also knew of his girl troubles, as immediately upon sitting down, George looked over at his younger brother and asked with faux innocence, "Got a date for the Ball yet?"
At that moment the castle blew up in Ron's face, so he turned towards his brothers and growled, "No."
"Better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," said Fred.
"And I suppose you have a date already?" retorted Ron sulkily.
"Of course," replied Fred with a cheerful smile. "Angelina."
"Seriously? And she said yes?" said Ron in shock, though whether due to thinking it impossible that Fred might have already asked someone with still over a week to go before the Ball, or that someone would have said yes to his older brother, the four Gryffindors not named Ron were unsure.
"Good point," replied Fred thoughtfully, as if suddenly realizing that maybe he should ask the girl he was going with whether they actually wanted to go with him or not. So leaning his head back over the back of the couch to where he could see (an upside down, from his vantage point) Angelina talking to Alicia on the other side of the common room, he shouted, "Oi! Angelina!"
The Gryffindor chaser looked up at him, shouting back, "What?"
"Want to come to the ball with me?" asked Fred.
Contemplating the redhead for a second or two, she finally shrugged and said, "Sure, why not? And Alicia says she'll go with George if he wants."
After Fred and George had both given her and Alicia thumbs up and what appeared to Hermione to be mouthed 'Love you's, Angelina returned to her conversation with the other Gryffindor chaser, as if it were an everyday occurrence for someone to proposition her to the Yule Ball from across the room with everyone in said crowded room watching.
Looking back at Ron, Fred smirked, "There you go — piece of cake."
Ron just stared at his older brother in disbelief, until after a few seconds George broke the silence and asked, "Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?"
"Why?" asked Ron suspiciously, as if it were completely beyond reason that the twins might want to send a letter to someone, and use his owl to do so.
"Because George wants to invite him to the ball as a backup in case Alicia bails," retorted Fred sarcastically.
"Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat," added George.
"Who d'you two keep writing to, anyway?" questioned Ron, as if still finding it highly suspicious that his brothers could really just want to use Pig to send a letter, and not feed it Canary Creams or something.
"Sir None-of-your-Business," retorted Fred. "Now is Pig free, or do we have to use one of the school owls again?"
Finally relenting, Ron huffed, "Fine — I assume he's up in the owlery like normal."
"Thank you muchly," said George with a fake bow as he stood up, before looking over at Fred and saying, "Well...let's go find him."
Once the twins had left, Ron looked over at Harry and said, "We should get a move on, you know...ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."
"Excuse me?!" sputtered Hermione, incapable of believing that even Ron could be so callous and misogynistic.
"Well — you know," said Ron with a shrug, clearly not seeing the blaring neon signs with loudspeakers hinting to him in giant letters that he really might ought to change directions posthaste, if not quicker. "I'd rather go alone than with — with Eloise Midgen, say."
"And what exactly is wrong with Eloise?" demanded Hermione, glaring at Harry's former friend. "She's a really nice girl!"
"Her nose is off-center," shrugged Ron, still completely oblivious to the fact that he was digging himself into a hole he was never going to have any chance of climbing out of.
"Oh, I see!" snapped Hermione. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"
"Er — yeah! That sounds about right!" replied Ron brightly, glad she was finally getting the picture.
"You're disgusting," said Hermione, shaking her head in disgust as she stood up. Looking down at Harry, she said pompously, "I'm going to bed so I don't have to listen to this pig any longer — I'll see you in the morning."
And with that she swept off towards the girls dormitories and disappeared out of sight up the stairs.
"Congrats, Ron — that won't hurt your chances of finding someone to go with you if Hermione decides to tell anyone what you just said," said Harry sarcastically as he stood up, before Ron could try to defend himself or say anything else stupid. "I'm going to bed as well — goodnight."
Only instead of immediately heading up to his own dorm and bed like Hermione had, he first walked over to where Angelina and Alicia were still talking.
"Hi, ladies," he said quietly so no one could overhear him. "I just had one quick question for you — Had the twins already asked you out before just a few minutes ago?"
"Oh yeah," answered Alicia. "George asked me out the day the Ball was announced. Can't say for sure about Angelina, but I do know that wasn't the first time."
"Same," said Angelina. "I was studying in the library that evening, when Fred came up and asked. So when he asked again earlier — well, it was obviously just the twins being the twins. That, or it was the opposite ones asking us out that had the first time, since no one can tell the difference anyway, but I assume that wasn't the case."
"No, I don't think so," answered Harry. "And I was thinking they had already asked you. They'd just asked Ron if he'd asked anyone out yet, so when the younger redhead acted like there was no way the twins had asked anyone out yet either, that's when Fred yelled across the room."
"Ah — makes sense," replied Angelina, before saying, "And speaking of dates, heard rumors floating around from a number of the girls that you have a date already and have been turning down offers."
Harry nodded. "I do, and we're keeping it quiet till night of. No reason to give the rumor mills anything specific to gossip about."
"No worries — we won't ask," replied Alicia. "And if anyone asks us, we'll confirm you already have someone so hopefully they won't bother you trying to ask you out."
"Thanks, appreciate it," said Harry, before continuing, "Well, that's all I really wanted to know, so I'll leave you two alone again, and head off to bed."
~HP~
Friday morning, on the last day of classes for the year, Harry was getting dressed to head downstairs and meet Hermione to walk down to breakfast, when Ron looked over from where he was still lying in bed, and said, "Harry — we've just got to grit our teeth and do it. When we get back to the common room tonight, we'll both have partners — agreed?"
"Good luck — hope whoever you ask says yes," replied Harry honestly, completely avoiding the part where he was supposed to be included in this asking someone endeavor.
He hoped the redhead would wise up and ask someone he'd actually enjoy spending the evening with, but even if he didn't, Harry still hoped he'd find someone — just because they weren't friends anymore didn't mean he wished any ill luck on his first friend. But after that, Harry did avoid Ron for the rest of the day as best he could, so that the redhead couldn't try to ask him if he'd asked anyone out yet.
But though they shared three classes that day, Ron didn't try speaking to him at all during any of them, though that was probably aided by the fact he and Hermione had started picking seats away from the redhead, so the redhead couldn't try distracting Harry with games during class, and Harry could properly concentrate and take notes.
The last class of the term for fourth year Gryffindors was Potions. Like always, it was another abysmal hour and a half of sneering and snide comments from both the 'professor' and several select Slytherin students. Harry had diligently added every ingredient, and from what he could tell and Hermione whispered into his ear, had the second best looking potion in the class behind Hermione's own perfect one, yet as he'd set his flask on Snape's desk at the end of class, the Head of Slytherin had still sneered that it wasn't a blue enough shade of the color blue, and it looked like Harry was going to be getting bottom marks again.
But Harry really couldn't care less, as he didn't even have to pass exams that year due to his name coming out of the fiery goblet, not to mention the fact that there was no way Dumbledore was going to let him fail out of Hogwarts due to one bad grade after as many times as the headmaster had let him off with nothing more than a stern warning for flagrantly violating nearly all the school rules and even several actual Ministry laws. But more importantly, Hermione had smiled at his potion as she filled her own flask to take up, which meant it was clearly a well-made potion, regardless of what the Snake might hiss. So it was with a jump in his step that Harry exited the dungeons with Hermione, free from classes until January.
They headed up to supper together, noticing as they walked into the Great Hall that Ron had stopped in the entrance hall instead of going straight into the Great Hall like normal, but they thought little of it, more interested in what the house elves had cooked them up for supper that night than what the redhead might be doing. But walking into the Gryffindor common room a while later, they spotted him sitting with Ginny in a distant corner, looking like someone had just told him that Quidditch had been permanently banned from wizarding society and replaced with studying, as Ginny sat next to him trying to soothe him. Harry couldn't help but walk over to find out what had happened.
"What's up, Ron?"
The redhead looked up with blind horror in his face, gasping wildly, "Why did I do it? I don't know what made me do it!"
Harry gave him a confused look, having no clue where to go with that, before looking over at Ginny to see if she could give him an actual answer.
"He just tried to ask Fleur to the Ball," supplied Ginny, patting her brother's arm sympathetically.
Harry stared first at her, and then at Ron, in complete disbelief. He knew Ron had been way more affected by the veela at the Quidditch World Cup than he had (at least after Hermione had grabbed his arm to pull his fingers out of his ears to show him the referee flexing under the veela's spell), and then by Fleur since she'd come to Hogwarts, but he'd never have thought the redhead would be so delusional as to actually try to ask her to go to the Yule Ball with him. As far as he knew, Ron had never even tried talking to the French girl before, let alone actually gotten to know her at all.
When no one said anything for several seconds, Ron gasped out again, "I don't know what made me do it! What was I playing at? There were people — all around — I've gone mad — everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall — she was standing there talking to Diggory — and it sort of came over me — and I asked her!"
So that's why he didn't come into the Great Hall for supper, thought Harry and Hermione (who'd followed Harry over to see what was going on) to themselves.
Ron, meanwhile, had buried his face in his hands, but continued mumbling away anyway, even though it was barely distinguishable. Harry had just managed to make out, "She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then — I dunno — I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it," when Hermione interrupted him in a superior, 'I told you so' tone of voice.
"A troll's starting to look pretty good, isn't it?"
Ron looked up and glared at her for several seconds, before his expression suddenly changed.
"Hermione — you're a girl!" he said, the fact having obviously just dawned on him for the first time at that moment.
"Only took you four years to notice," muttered Hermione, causing Harry to have to turn away and bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud.
"So you can go to the ball with me," continued Ron, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"As your last resort? I don't think so," sneered Hermione. "Anyway, I couldn't even if I was willing to consider going with you after how you've treated Harry this year."
But Ron ignored almost everything she'd said, latching only onto the 'couldn't' part.
"Why not? It's bad enough for a guy to show up to the Ball alone, but it'd just be pathetic for a girl to show up by herself," he insulted.
Hermione just gaped at him, unable to believe, even with his years of abusive behavior towards her and his last few months towards Harry, that their former friend and recent hanger-on could really be that cruel. Harry also stared at the redhead in shock, and even Ginny looked at her brother in slight surprise and stopped rubbing his arm.
"Come on, 'Mione," whined Ron after several seconds of deathly silence that he apparently didn't notice was directed directly at him. "Harry and I need partners. We're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any — everyone else has…"
Deciding it wasn't even worth trying to get through his thick skull just how vile what he'd said was, Hermione changed tactics to something that might get through one day.
"Then you should have started asking a little sooner than a week before the Ball, shouldn't you have?" she said haughtily. "And maybe looked for someone you actually liked instead of trying to just get the prettiest girl you could see," before finishing with a growl, "Also, never ever call me 'Mione again if you value your life."
But Ron ignored everything she had said, and replied in a tone that indicated he thought he was making her a great, magnanimous offer, "But I'm offering you the chance to go with me now — giving you the opportunity to have someone to go with."
Giving up on talking any sense into the redhead, and beyond fed up with him, Hermione simply growled, "Someone has already asked me, thank you very much. Someone who realized a long time ago that I am in fact a girl, and asked me to go with them practically as soon as they found out there even was a Ball to invite me to."
"Oh, come on — who would ask you, the know-it-all bookworm?" scoffed Ron. "The only two friends you even have are me and Harry."
"You know what?! That's it!" exclaimed Hermione angrily. "I've had enough of you!"
And with that she turned and stormed off to her dorm for the second time in three nights.
Harry briefly thought about trying to follow after her, but by the time he realized what was happening, she had already disappeared up the girls staircase, and while he knew she'd come up to his dorm multiple times over the years, he didn't know how well she, or any of the other girls up said staircase, would appreciate him going up theirs.
So instead he turned back and looked down at the offending redhead again, thinking sadly to himself, Making her storm off twice in three days — that might be a new record for him.
But before he could say anything out loud, or decide what to do next, Ron looked at him and said dismissively, "She's lying. There's no way she's got anyone."
"She's not," said Harry quietly shaking his head, not really wanting to get into an argument himself with the redhead.
"Who is it then?" demanded Ron angrily, while at the same time Ginny said, "Are you sure? I haven't heard anyone say she has someone to go with yet."
"Sorry — if she wants to keep it a secret, I'm not going to break her trust by telling," answered Harry with another shake of his head. "You can ask her yourself if you like, but especially after this I sincerely doubt she'll tell you. You'll just have to wait until Christmas night like everyone else to find out. But right now I'm heading out to the library, in case she happens to come back down and has me lost."
Then he turned and headed towards the portrait hole, trusting his best friend would probably come find him soon enough, once she'd had a chance to cool down a bit and wanted something to take her mind off her row with the git.
Chapter 6
All throughout the week leading up to Christmas, every time he saw Harry and Hermione, Ron kept trying to spring questions on Hermione about who she was going with to the Yule Ball, as if hoping to startle an answer out of her by asking when she least expected it.
It was one of these times, as Harry and Hermione walked across the entrance hall to the Great Hall for supper, that Ron walked up and asked, "Hermione — who are you going to the ball with?"
Like every other time he'd asked so far, Hermione merely replied, "I'm not telling you, Ronald. We'll just have another row, and I for one am enjoying the Christmas season far too much for that."
None of this was unusual in and of itself, as it was already the third time he'd asked her that just that day, but what was different this time was that they almost immediately heard from behind them a drawling, "You're joking, Weasel! You're not telling me someone's asked that to the ball? Not the long-incisored mudblood?"
Ron whipped around with his wand out, as if he hoped that by proving his chivalry that Hermione would admit that she'd been lying this whole time about already having a date, and finally just agree to go with him already.
"Think you're going to try to duel me, do you?" sneered the snake at Ron and his wand.
Harry and Hermione took this as their cue to exit scene posthaste, and quickly scampered into the Great Hall so they couldn't be associated with anything that happened next.
As they sped through the doors leading into the Great Hall and made the turn towards the Gryffindor table, they heard out in the entrance hall behind them, "Furnunculus!" and "Densaugeo!" Not risking pausing to see if they could hear anything else, Harry and Hermione increased their pace to the Gryffindor table, sitting down as soon as they found seats. But when they looked around to see who they'd sat next to, they realized that in their haste not to be associable with the duel going on in the entrance hall outside, they'd gone to the wrong table, and were sitting with Cho Chang to the left of Harry, Luna Lovegood to the right of Hermione, and Fleur Delacour and a few other Beauxbatons across from them.
" 'I, 'Arry," said the Veela cheerfully but in slight surprise. "I didn't realize students were allowed to sit at different 'ouse tables zan zeir own, even if zey are champions."
"Oh, umm…actually no, no one normally does — we were just trying to avoid punishment by association from a duel going on outside in the entrance hall between my former friend and my greatest student archnemesis," said Harry apologetically. "We can leave if you'd like, our table's just behind us."
"Not at all, not at all!" replied Fleur cheerfully. "We are more zan 'appy to 'ave you join us! I was just surprised to see you, zat's all. And by ze way, I sincerely apologize for not taking you seriously and calling you a little boy and too young to compete after your name first came out of ze goblet — I was being 'asty and you were magnificent 'andling your dragon in ze first task, and are clearly worthy of being in zis tournament."
"Uh, thank you," said Harry awkwardly, blushing slightly at the praise, before quickly changing the subject away from himself and asking her, "So how do you like it here at Hogwarts?"
"Well, zis 'Ogwarts' food is a lot 'eavier zan I'm used to in France, but I'm coming to like it," answered Fleur truthfully. "But I do 'ave to make sure I don't eat too much of it, or I won't be able to fit into my dress robes come Christmas."
Harry sincerely doubted the trim witch was going to have any such problems, but as his date was sitting next to him, he wisely kept this to himself — if he was going to compliment any witch's trim, healthy figure, it was going to be his best friend and Yule Ball date's.
But before he could reply anything, their conversation was interrupted by Snape jumping up from his seat at the high table and quickly sweeping through the Great Hall and out into the entrance hall. From whispers they heard around them now that they stopped to listen, it sounded like after both of their first few spells had missed, Ron and Malfoy had decided to just attack each other fisticuffs style in a knockdown, drag-out brawl. So now Draco was pounding the redhead into the flagged stone floor where Harry and Hermione had hurriedly left them to avoid becoming unfairly associated. And based on the fact it was Crabbe and Goyle who were standing at the high table next to where Snape had up until a few moments before been sitting, the two had finally come wandering through the entrance hall on their own quest for sustenance, and saw their master being attacked — even if said 'attacker' was a bloody and bruised heap beneath their master. At which point they had hurried as quickly as their lumbering strides could carry them to tell the chief Snake that there was someone hurting his pet snakelet, and therefore someone he could throw in detention.
They heard nothing more of what happened once Snape intervened, until they finally returned to the Gryffindor common room several hours later, having stopped by the library and an empty classroom to practice their dancing some more between finishing supper and making it back up to Gryffindor Tower.
But walking into the common room, they were almost immediately assaulted by an irate Ron Weasley shouting at them, "Where the bloody hell were you two?!" Turning his attention directly to Hermione he continued, "I was getting my arse kicked trying to defend your honor, and you completely disappeared!" Rounding on Harry he added, "And you! Not stepping up to help me defend her honor, making me do it all by myself! I got all bloody and bruised, and had to spend an hour in the hospital wing, and got a weeks' worth of detentions with Snape over Christmas break for it!"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "He calls me a mudblood every other other sentence — get over it already. If you payed any attention to me at all, you'd know I don't care what that pompous prick calls me. I've never once asked you to defend me when he's called me a mudblood, and if you really knew me, you'd know I'm more than perfectly capable of handling him myself should I so choose. Not to brag, but I'm kind of the smartest person in this castle."
"That's not bragging, that's just stating the obvious truth," replied Harry to Hermione, before turning to the redhead. "And you know fighting isn't allowed in the castle, so if you're going to do it, for Merlin's sake at least make sure you win, and if at all possible win so hard and fast that you can be long gone by the time anyone notices anything happened."
Ron stared at them in disbelief, clearly having expected sympathy from them for his heroic and noble act, not a reprimand and advice on how to fight better from someone who hadn't even stayed to fight in the first place.
"But— but—!" he eventually stuttered out. "He called you the worst insult there is!"
"But it's just a word. It only has power over you if you let it," explained Hermione patiently. "The same as 'Voldemort' is just a name. It's up to you whether you let yourself be controlled by it or not. I choose not to, be it mudblood or Voldemort. Also, I can think of several words worse than mudblood, at least from the muggle world, and almost exclusively used about females — not that I'm going to repeat any of them ever, but I would ignore them as well if Draco were to discover and call me any of them." Turning to Harry, she added, "Oh — and Harry, if you don't know the words I'm referring to due to your — unique — muggle upbringing, ask me later."
Ron noticeably flinched at both of her uses of You-Know-Who's name, and gaped (however briefly the first time due to having to immediately wince again afterwards for 'Voldemort') at both of her uses of the slur for muggleborn, proving her point perfectly.
But before Ron could actually come up with anything to say to Hermione's response, there was a pecking on the common room window, and Harry and Hermione looked over to see an owl sitting on the window sill.
"Isn't that — ?" asked Hermione. It looked to her like the owl they'd used to write to Sirius after the first task, but she didn't want Ron knowing that and thinking he was on good enough terms with them to find out what Sirius had written back.
Harry nodded, walking over to the window and opening it up. Taking the letter off the owl's leg before closing the window back, he looked over at Hermione and nodded shortly again to let her it was in fact from Sirius.
Leaving Ron without a word, Hermione walked over to Harry and said quietly, "We've still got ten minutes before curfew, if we want to find a nearby vacant classroom…."
So the two of them quickly walked back over to the portrait hole they'd just recently came through, and disappeared back out into the castle. Finding the nearest unlocked classroom, they entered and unrolled Sirius's letter, reading it together. Unfortunately it didn't tell them much, other than that Sirius had been going to suggest the Conjunctivitus Curse that Krum had used, and that he was of the same mind as Hermione in that there were still plenty of opportunities for whoever entered Harry's name to hurt him. With nothing to write him back about, as nothing out of the ordinary had happened since the first task, Harry simply rolled the letter back up and stuck it in his robes, before they returned to the common room to hang out until it was time to go to bed.
Chapter 7
Christmas morning Harry woke early, Hermione having insisted the night before that he meet her in the common room before the sun had even risen, for a surprise.
Stumbling sleepily into the common room, he found Hermione perched on the couch looking like she'd been awake for some time already, stroking Crookshanks who was purring contentedly in her lap. But as soon as she saw him, after carefully setting Crookshanks down on the cushion next to her, she leapt up with a bright smile, quickly crossing the room to give him a tight hug as she wished him Merry Christmas.
Harry wished her Merry Christmas in return, before asking, "So what is it that's so important I had to wake up thirty minutes before sunrise on Christmas morning?"
"Come on," smiled Hermione in answer. "I have something I want to show you."
And with that she grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the portrait hole, and down through the castle. Eventually they made it outside, where Hermione continued to lead him through the fresh, undisturbed snow and around the edge of the Black Lake, until finally coming to a rock outcropping over the lake, that she sat down on the edge of, her feet dangling out over the water ten feet below.
As Harry sat down next to her, she said, "Now we wait — about ten minutes, I think."
But before the ten minutes had fully passed, as the sky began to light up in brilliant color, Harry finally realized why they were out there — the sunrise.
As the edge of the sun finally peaked above the distant mountains, flooding everything in brilliant gold, Hermione said quietly, "I come out here often, at all times of the year, before anyone else is awake, to watch the sunrise and be reminded of just how blessed I am to be a witch and to be able to attend Hogwarts. And it gives me the encouragement to always give a hundred percent in everything I do, and not waste the gifts and opportunities I've been given," she explained. "Not that I don't naturally love learning, and wouldn't try my hardest anyway, but it can all eventually weigh down even on someone like me, especially with all the crap we have to go through every year, and this just helps keep me going when I might want to throw the towel in and only give ninety percent on a day when we have double History of Magic and Potions with the Snakes," she finished with a light chuckle.
Harry laughed lightly along with her, choosing not to say anything and instead just wrap his arm around her shoulder. They sat there like that in silence for a long time, watching the sunrise and then just enjoying the early Christmas morning nature, until Harry's stomach finally rumbled, causing Hermione to giggle.
"Sounds like our morning nature expedition is over. Ready for breakfast?"
"My stomach certainly is, even if I could continue staring out over the lake for the rest of the morning," replied Harry, finally dropping his arm from around her shoulder so they could stand up.
A short hike later and they arrived back at the castle, where the Great Hall was just opening up for breakfast, and a decent handful of people were already beginning to eat, having woken up early enough to have already opened their presents and made it down to the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione joined in, digging into the scrumptious breakfast of everything imaginable that the house elves had provided, both of them more than hungry after their early time of arising and hike through the snow-covered grounds of Hogwarts.
As the hall began to really start to fill up an hour later, they themselves had finally filled up as well, and they headed back up towards Gryffindor Tower so Harry could open his presents. When they walked through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, they found Ron and the other fourth year boys just walking down the stairs from the dorm, only then having finished opening their presents and heading down to breakfast.
But as soon as the redhead saw Harry, he exclaimed almost angrily, "Harry! Where have you been?! Why haven't you opened your presents yet?!"
"I went to watch the sunrise over the lake, and then ate breakfast because I was hungry," answered Harry, unsure why his absence had caused such a stir for the redhead.
"But you didn't open your presents first!" exclaimed Ron in what could only be described as pure disbelief, like it was against the law to leave unopened presents at the foot of your bed, or like everyone had suddenly started calling He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named by his real name (nickname or birth name).
"It was dark, everyone was still asleep, and I was in a hurry," replied Harry. "What does it matter to you anyway whether I opened my presents yet or not? Or whether I even open them at all — they're my presents, not yours."
It obviously mattered a great deal to Ron, but as all he could apparently do was stand there and gape like a fish at Harry, his jaw occasionally working up and down but no words coming out, Harry never found out why it mattered so much.
Because after several seconds without any reply from Ron, Harry finally shrugged and started walking towards the staircase again, Hermione following close behind him.
Hermione had already opened all of her presents before meeting Harry in the common room to go watch the sunrise together, so she now joined him to watch him open his. Walking into Harry's dorm room, Hermione immediately ran over and jumped onto his bed, before eagerly sitting up straight with her legs crossed under her, looking at Harry expectantly.
Harry rolled his eyes at her antics as he crossed over to the small pile of gifts at the foot of his bed, saying, "You seem more excited to watch me open my presents than you probably were opening yours."
"I like seeing you get gifts when you didn't for the first decade of your life, and still don't from your biological family — what can I say?" replied Hermione with a shrug, as Harry reached down and picked up his first present. The one he instantly knew upon seeing was from Hermione, based on the very careful wrapping, neat edges, and perfectly sized bow on top.
It also had 'From Hermione' written in large, clear letters on the tag in the top corner.
But before he could start to open it, there was a sudden crack, and Dobby was standing before them.
"Ah, Harry Potter is finally opening his presents, sir!" squeaked the house elf excitedly, his ears bobbing up and down, before continuing on tentatively, "Can Dobby give Harry Potter his present now?"
"Of course," answered Harry. "And I have one for you as well."
He opened his trunk and rummaged around until he found the Ugly Christmas Sweater he'd ordered by owl mail from a wizarding shop that specialized in selling muggle items to the wizarding world, and that Hermione had shrunk down to house elf size. Because thanks to the wonderful girl sitting on the bed next to him at the moment, who'd been the one to think of the idea, he actually had bought Dobby a Christmas present shortly after they'd discovered that Dobby had come to Hogwarts. Similarly, Hermione had bought Winky a cute hat, and they'd been planning on going down to the kitchens sometime in the afternoon to give both Dobby and Winky their gifts, but as Dobby was already there now, Harry saw no reason not to go ahead and give it to him.
Handing Dobby the sweater and taking the small package the house elf held out in return, Harry said, "Here you go — and thank you for this, you didn't have to get me anything."
Opening the package up he found two socks, the left one bright red with a pattern of broomsticks upon it, and the right one green with a pattern of Snitches. Harry immediately pulled them on while thanking Dobby again, causing the house elf's eyes to leak with happiness.
Once the house elf had disapparated back to the kitchens, Harry resumed opening the rest of his gifts, starting with Hermione's that he'd set on the bed next to him to get Dobby's gift out from inside his trunk. Opening Hermione's gift up, he found Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland, the most comprehensive book on Quidditch in the British Isles ever written, and a book that had been on Harry's wish list to read ever since he'd seen it in the Flourish and Blotts owl mail catalog Hermione had been perusing one evening in the library after they'd finished their homework. Too grateful for words, he turned and hugged her tightly, saying more than he could ever say out loud.
"You're welcome, Harry," she said softly as she hugged him back, happy her present had made him so happy.
She still wasn't particularly enthralled with Quidditch herself, or perhaps it was more the danger she saw it put Harry in year in and year out, but she knew he loved it more than almost anything else in the world, the one thing he excelled at that no one could say was given to him. So when he'd eagerly read the description of the book over her shoulder, she'd ordered it the very next day (along with the dozen books she'd already earmarked for herself for a little light reading in her spare time), to give to him for Christmas.
Harry eventually let her go, and reached down to pick up his next present, a badly wrapped one obviously from the gamekeeper. Inside was a giant box of sweets from Honeydukes, including Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and Fizzing Whizbees, all amongst Harry's favorites. Harry opened a chocolate frog each for him and Hermione to munch on, before continuing to open the rest of his gifts.
Sirius had gotten him a knife that could supposedly unlock any lock and undo any knot, something Harry ruefully thought he really could have used the night his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, when he couldn't get the Gryffindor banner Lee Jordan had tied around his neck undone as he was trying to talk with Ron when he'd gotten back up to the dorm. He immediately tucked it away in his robes, so he'd always have it with him whenever he inevitably needed it.
The next gift he opened was from Ron, a bulging bag of Dungbombs. "Is this supposed to be a gift, or a threat?" he asked in a slightly confused tone as he held up the package for Hermione to see. "It's from Ron, and honestly I could see it as being either way."
"Knowing Ron, I think he actually thinks you'd like this," answered Hermione, taking the bag from him to look at closer. "So I'm going with gift to try to get back in your good graces. Anyway, I don't think he even knows what passive-aggressive is in the first place — he's always gone straight up aggressive when it comes to me, at least."
The final gift Harry opened was from the redheads' mother, the yearly sweater she sent him, along with a large number of mince pies she'd made.
"Do you think she's heard we're not friends with Ron anymore?" Harry asked as he unfolded the green sweater with a dragon stitched onto the front. "Someone clearly told her about the first task, or else she read about it in the Daily Prophet."
"That's the weirdest thing though, Harry," replied Hermione pensively. "I've taken and read the Daily Prophet every day since I learned I was a witch and learned that the Daily Prophet existed, and neither Rita Skeeter nor anyone else wrote any article in the days following the first task saying what happened or giving the results of it. In fact, other than Rita's one article after your name came out, there hasn't been a peep about the entire tournament. Because if there had been, like say over the summer to let everyone know it was happening this year, I would have known about it before Dumbledore told us at the Opening Feast. But I didn't. I found out when you, and Ron, and the twins, and everyone else in this school found out. For supposedly being the biggest event in wizarding history in the past couple centuries or whatever Dumbledore touted it as, the only news source in the entirety of the Isles has been completely mum on it. I hadn't specifically thought of it before now because we're living though it, but it's all really weird now that I do think about it.
"But coming back to Mrs Weasley, it means someone did have to tell her, unless she's got another news source I'm unaware of. Which I'm guessing wasn't the twins or Ron unless they failed to mention that you're no longer friends with Ron anymore, since she still sent you her normal present — unless it's an attempt to pressure you into becoming friends with Ron again by making you feel guilty about receiving a gift and not reciprocating it at least through friendship with her son, which could be a possibility. But my best guess would be that Charlie told her, since he was in charge of the nesting mother that understandably tried to kill you."
After a second, she added suddenly, "Oh — and did you get Ron a present this year?"
"No," replied Harry shaking his head. "I found this Chudley Cannon hat I know he would've liked, but as I saw it after my name came out and he'd stopped being my friend, I didn't get it. You?"
"Nope," replied Hermione. "No way I was going to get him anything after how he's treated you since your name came out."
They sat there in silence for several seconds, before Hermione pointed at an envelope still lying on the floor that Harry didn't seem to be in any hurry to pick up, and asked, "What's that one?"
"My relatives," answered Harry, still just staring at the envelope, wondering why they even bothered — unless Hedwig pecked them until they gave her something to give to him, or else were trying to intentionally be cruel and remind him that they hated his very existence.
But eventually he did pick it up and open it, to find a single tissue.
"Shame owl mail is free for them, or there's no way they would have paid postage to send this by Royal Mail — it's worth far less than the stamp would cost, and then I wouldn't have to even receive it."
Hermione wrapped her arms around him, leaning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. She knew there was nothing she could say to make up for his relatives' behavior, but she could show him that she would always be there for him no matter what, so that's what she did.
Eventually though, they wandered back down to the common room, where the twins talked them into joining the after lunch snowball fight they were arranging. So after eating again and a quick stop by the kitchens to give Winky her Christmas present, they headed out onto the still mostly pristine grounds, where they threw and dodged balls of snow until the early-setting winter sun drove them back inside soon after the sun set behind the mountains at three-thirty in the afternoon. Deciding to avoid the overcrowded Gryffindor common room, Harry and Hermione settled in the completely empty library, where Harry began reading Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland, and Hermione opened Advanced Runes for the Overeager Sixth Year to the furthest page she'd been on.
Several hours later at seven o'clock, an hour before the Yule Ball was set to open, Hermione looked over at Harry and commented, "We should probably think about starting to get ready sometime soon."
"I suppose," replied Harry, closing his book and setting it down. "What do you have in mind?"
"Want to meet back up in the common room at fifteen till? By the time we actually get up and walk back over there and up to our dorms, that should give us twenty minutes or so to get ready and back down, and then we'll still have plenty of time to make it down to the entrance hall by eight."
Harry contemplated her plan for several seconds, before finally saying slowly, "Actually, Hermione…I have a slightly different idea in mind if you're open to it."
"I'm all ears," replied Hermione.
"Well, I was thinking that maybe I should actually be waiting for you in the entrance hall. Because if we walk in together, maybe half the people down there will turn and look at us. But if you walk down the Grand Staircase alone in your stunning dress robes — which yes, I know I haven't seen them yet, but I already know they'll be stunning — the prettiest girl in the castle clearly walking down to meet someone, every eye in the entire castle will be on you, and everyone will be looking to see who you landed. Of course, then they'll see it's just me, but for a few moments at least you'll be the center of the entire school's attention, the star of the Yule Ball, the envy of every girl and making every guy jealous that he didn't think to ask you first."
"Oh, Harry!" cooed Hermione. "But I'm pretty sure it's the other way around — no one's going to become envious until I attach myself to your arm, the youngest champion and co-leader after the first task."
"Agree to disagree," replied Harry with a smile. "But you'll do it?"
"Gladly, Harry," answered Hermione. "You know I don't generally like being the center of attention, and I know you hate it, and of course it's just going to fuel what Ron already thinks he knows about you being an attention-slut, but for once I wouldn't mind standing out. Even a know-it-all, bushy-haired bookworm like me is still a girl, and can't turn down the opportunity to be the center of attention every once in a while if it's being the center of attention for a good reason. So absolutely, Harry, even if I think you're exaggerating just how much attention people will give me."
Plan settled, Hermione packed their books away in her bag and they meandered back to the common room, where they found almost exclusively guys left, all the other girls having hidden themselves away in their dorms hours before to change their looks from what they'd been when the guy they were going out with had asked them out.
Bidding goodby to Hermione for the moment, Harry headed up to his own dorm room to throw on his dress robes and head down to the entrance hall to wait on her.
Upstairs he found Ron, Seamus, and Dean staring at Ron's dress robes, where they lay on his bed looking like they'd been massacred by a pair of rogue scissors. Harry briefly wondered how Ron had managed to fail a severing charm so miserably to result in that, but he certainly wasn't about to stop and ask, as he had no interest in getting involved in anything but Hermione in the entrance hall in twenty minutes. So he breezed past them all, grabbing his own robes out of his trunk and quickly throwing them on, before heading into the bathroom to determine after one quick look in the mirror that his hair wasn't even worth trying to deal with without a spell by Hermione. He quickly headed back out and down the stairs before any of the other boys could try to engage him in any conversation, and through the now mostly empty common room and out the portrait hole.
And so now he stood alone in the crowding entrance hall, waiting for his date to arrive to steal the show.
In order to pass the time, he began looking around him, to see who was going with whom. He'd only been doing so for a few minutes when Ron in all his frayed cuffs glory hurried up to him, clearly eager to show everyone around that he was best of friends with the first place champion.
"Find a partner, mate?" he asked cheerfully, as if they spoke to each other all the time.
"Yes — she should be here in a minute or two," replied Harry politely as he continued to scan the crowds around him.
"Who'd you get? Is she pretty?" asked Ron.
Of course that's what the redhead would be concerned about — if she was pretty or not. Harry wanted to completely ignore Ron's question about whether she was pretty or not, and only say that he thought she had a wonderful personality and was someone he'd enjoy spending the evening with, but it was Hermione — he couldn't help but brag on her when he had the chance, and he really did think she was the prettiest girl in the castle in his eyes. So he did both.
"I think she's beautiful," he answered, finally looking directly at his former friend. "But more importantly she's the nicest girl I've ever met, and I can't wait get to spend the next four hours with her. And you'll see her in a minute, so don't ask — you can find out with everyone else."
As he looked at his dormmate, Harry noticed that the redhead didn't seem to be with anyone, so he continued on politely, "Did you ever ask anyone to come with you?"
"Well, you know, I eventually decided I'd just come solo and play the field once I got here," answered Ron cockily. "Find some pretty girls who didn't get asked by anyone, some girls who left their boring dates here at the party, and dance with them. No reason to limit myself to just one girl, when there's a whole castle full."
So every girl he desperately asked at the last minute turned him down, translated Harry to himself as he listened to the redhead's ridiculousness. But before either of them could say anything more, there were several low whistles and gasps, and most of the crowd turned towards the Grand Staircase.
Harry turned as well.