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Hermione snapped her book closed and shoved it into her bag, pulling out parchment, ink, and quill instead to start working on her Potions essay. However, the sound of her quill scratching parchment wasn’t loud enough to drown out the murmurs that were a constant in the library these days from all of the girls fawning over Krum. She was trying to focus on her essay for Potions, detailing the use of Mandrake Root in various antidotes, but it wasn't going well. It wasn’t a hard assignment. She had learned plenty about Mandrake Root during her research about the magical plant after she was cured of her petrification towards the end of her second year. She was constantly distracted, however, by not only the murmurs and whispers from the gaggle of girls that followed the international Quidditch star, but also thoughts of Harry.

It’d been a week since Professor McGonagall held him back after Transfiguration for a secret chat. It’d not taken long for her to find out what it was that she wanted to talk about, and honestly she should have seen it coming when their letters came over the summer. Formal robes? Dresses? Of course there would be some kind of dance. Now she just couldn’t shake the thought that maybe, if she was lucky, Harry would ask her. It was a tiny flicker of hope burning like a candle inside of her that wouldn’t be put out. She didn’t know when those feelings for her best friend started creeping up. A part of her thought maybe they had always been there, ever since he saved her from a troll. Of course, Ron had been there as well, but that was different. He had been the one to make her hide in a bathroom and cry in the first place, while Harry had been the one to realize she was missing, find her – dragging a begrudging Ron behind him – and then jumped on the troll’s back with no regard for his own safety.

But it was more than that as well. They’d been through so much together. She thought she knew Harry better than anyone else alive, even Ron. She knew his noble streak, his sense of justice, but also the way he cared about people. He could be broody and rash, but also kind and sweet. Not to mention he could be smart as a whip when he was interested in something.

She sighed softly to herself as the murmurs grew louder. Hermione set her quill down and blew over her parchment to dry the ink as she heard footsteps approaching her table.

“Hey, Harry,” she said, not looking up from the parchment. “Time for dinner?”

She heard a grunt and looked up to find not Harry Potter, but Viktor Krum. He was frowning, distorting his already grumpy-looking face. She didn’t quite know what people saw in the man. He was by all accounts a Quidditch prodigy, yes, but he wasn’t particularly handsome. He was tall and thin, with sallow skin and thick dark eyebrows. His nose was large and curved, almost hooked, and it stood out on his face.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I thought you were someone else. Can I help you?” The Bulgarian had never said a word to her, but she had seen him looking at her sometimes. It made her a little uncomfortable, if she were being honest, to find him looking at her in the library whenever she was trying to read, do homework, or research with Harry. He was always followed by the girls she had deemed to be his fan club, so his attention was also accompanied by the whispers. She really wished Harry were here now so that maybe Krum would go away.

He glanced around the library for a moment and then back to her. “You are Hermy-own?” he said, his thick accent distorting her name completely. It took a concentrated effort to not roll her eyes.

“My name is Her-mi-o-ne,” she said, enunciating each syllable of her name slowly. “What can I help you with?”’

“May I sit here?” he asked, waving his hand at the chair across from her. Her first instinct to say no, if only because she found his fan club annoying, but she sighed and nodded. He pulled the chair out and sat down, still glancing over at his fan club.

“Hermy-own-ninny,” he said, and this time she did roll her eyes before she could stop herself. “Your friend, he is not here?”

“Harry?” she asked. “No, he might be on his way here, though, since dinner is starting soon. In fact, I should probably start packing up my things.” She started sorting her things out and packing them into her bag one at a time.

“I vas vondering if you vould like to go to the Ball vith me.”

She looked up at him and blinked. It sounded as if he had just asked her to be his date to the Yule Ball.

“Excuse me?”

“Vould you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?” he asked.

Viktor Krum wanted to go to the ball with her? Why would he want to go with her when he’s got a group of girls throwing themselves at him? Well, she could understand that. If the same thing was happening to Harry, he wouldn’t even think about taking one of those girls. The thought of Harry going with anyone brought her back to reality. She wondered if she should just accept and give up hope that Harry would ask her, but she really did not want to go with someone she barely knew.

She was suddenly nervous, her heart beating loudly in her ears. No one had ever before shown any romantic interest in her. It was flattering, in a way, but to have it come from Viktor Krum just made her feel even more nervous.

“I can’t,” she said. She couldn’t believe she was actually turning down Viktor Krum. Even though she barely knew him this was still an international Quidditch star asking her out.

“Because you are vith Harry? I see you two together always in the library. I see the Daily Prophet and you hug him before the first task. I thought maybe you two were together, but I vanted to take my chance.”

Her mind instantly formed the pictures of Harry asking her, walking into the ball on his arms, dancing close all night. Maybe even a kiss at the end of the night, she allowed herself to believe.

“Yes,” she squeaked before her guilty conscience could force her to think about what she was doing. “Yes, Harry and I are together. He’s my boyfriend. Yes. So, as you can see, we’ll be going to the Yule Ball together.”

Krum nodded but didn’t say anything for a moment. “If you break up, I will ask again, yes?” He reached for her hand and she snatched it away. He frowned. “Good bye, Hermy-own. I vill see you around.”

Hermione watched him stand and walk back to his fan club, absently rather glad that he was gone, because that was creepy. But her mind was really focused on what had just transpired. What had she just done? She’d just turned down Viktor Krum by telling him that she was going to the ball with Harry, her boyfriend! Poor Harry. She had just ruined everything. Harry was probably already asking Cho Chang to the ball and here she was, telling Viktor Krum that she was dating Harry.

Her breathing became shallow and rapid, nearly devolving into a full panic attack. What was she going to tell Harry? She didn’t even know if she could face him. There was no doubt in her mind that Krum was telling his fan club all about how she and her boyfriend Harry were going to the Yule Ball together and then those girls would spread it around the entire school at dinner. The Hogwarts rumor mill worked fast and it took no prisoners.

She decided to stay in the library and skip dinner. Maybe she was actually having a nightmare and she’d wake up with her cheek pressed to the table. She pinched herself and cringed at the sharp pain, but did not wake up from her nightmare. It was all real. Her heart urged her to go find Harry and explain to him what she’d done and apologize for the mess she’d made and beg for his forgiveness. But she didn’t know how to do that, and her mind told her that she’d just ruined her friendship with Harry. There’s no way that he’d ever ask her now, after she’d just lied about him being her boyfriend.

Hermione crossed her arms on the desk and put her head down on her forearm. A tear escaped her eye as thoughts of Harry hating her filled her mind.

Harry stepped into the Great Hall and stopped, scanning the Gryffindor table, looking for Hermione. He didn’t see her bushy brown hair anywhere at the table, but did spy Ron waving at him to come sit down. Their friendship was still on rocky ground, as Ron hadn’t really apologized, instead only stated the obvious. He saw Cho, as well, sitting at the Ravenclaw table surrounded by her friends. Harry turned around and walked out of the Great Hall again and darted past the marble staircase, through the corridors until he could duck into an alcove.

He pulled the Marauder’s Map from his robe pocket and tapped his wand to it. “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” he whispered, scanning the corridor for anyone walking by as the ink spread out from the center of the parchment, forming the magical map of Hogwarts. He looked at Gryffindor tower first, but she wasn’t there. His eyes moved to the library instead and found her sitting at their usual table. “Mischief managed.” The map disappeared and Harry folded it up to stuff it back into his pocket before exiting the alcove.

He walked down the corridor and turned a corner on his way to Hermione, his thoughts full of the Yule Ball, the familiar gut-wrenching panic filling him again for what felt like the hundredth time this week. Every time he thought about the Yule Ball and how he was supposed to find a date, his stomach flipped over itself, making him nauseous. He didn’t know the first thing about asking a girl to a dance. Maybe he could ask Hermione for advice. She always knew what to do and she was his only real friend at the moment.

There were a few people in this corridor looking at him oddly and whispering. He thought the student populace was over him being in the tournament, but obviously he was wrong if people were still staring at him all the time and whispering.

“...with Hermione Granger,” he heard one girl whisper as he passed them, and his face scrunched up in confusion. What did Hermione have to do with him being in the tournament besides the fact that she was the only one to believe him about not entering and helping him with the first task? Sure, he spent all of his time with his best friend – odd, he thought, I guess Hermione really is my best friend now – but the only reason people ever whispered about Hermione these days was in relation to Rita Skeeter’s article. All he and Hermione had done was hug as they’d done many times before, but apparently that was enough for Rita to tell the entire world about his and Hermione’s love for each other.

He scoffed and continued down the hall, letting the whispers wash over him, ignoring them and the stares that accompanied him whenever he passed anyone in the hall as he made his way to the library. When he reached the large wooden doors of the library, they swung out and nearly hit him before he could even put a hand on the door handle. He stepped back and two girls darted past him, whispering softly to each other and laughing. He cocked an eyebrow, watching them move down the hall, before catching the door with his hand and pulling it open. He went inside, keeping his footsteps light so as not to anger Madam Pince.

He found Hermione at the expected table with her head down on her arms. Harry smiled as slid into the seat next to her. He brushed hair away from her ear so he could lean in close to whisper. “Hermione, time to wake up.”

She shot up in her seat and squealed. Her eyes were wide as she looked at them and a blush rose to her cheeks. She covered her mouth with her hand and glanced behind them, checking to see if Madam Pince had noticed her outburst.

Harry laughed and she smacked his arm. “Not funny, Harry, we can’t afford to get even a temporary ban from the library.”

“You’re right,” he nodded. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to let you know that dinner’s just started and we should head down if we want to eat – or we can just go down to the kitchens and avoid everyone. That’s good for me, too. Things are still weird with Ron. Hanging out with him this afternoon was…uncomfortable.” He frowned, but then looked back at her with a smile. “Not like hanging out with you.”

She flushed and turned her head, picking up her back and slinging it over her shoulder as she stood from the table. “Okay. Yes. Let’s go down to the kitchens. There’s something I need to talk to you about, anyway.”

Her voice was quiet and subdued, completely unlike Hermione Granger. Harry stood and they made their way through the library. “Are you okay, Hermione? Something wrong? I should warn you, actually. I heard people talking about us again. I think Rita’s article is still making the rounds.”

He glanced at her and she turned to meet his eyes for only a moment before looking ahead of them again. She was chewing her lip as if she were nervous.

“I’m really sorry about that, Hermione, I thought it would go away.”

Hermione suddenly took his hand and pulled him into an unused classroom, shutting the door behind them. She rested her forehead on the door.

“Hermione, what is it? You’re starting to worry me.”

“It’s not Rita,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Rita isn’t the reason you heard people talking about us.”

“Of course she is,” he said. “That article from the first task is making a comeback.”

Hermione turned around and slumped back against the door. Her face was bright red and tears were falling down her cheek. Instantly, Harry forgot about Rita. He took a step toward her until he was right in front of her and pulled her into a hug. Harry wasn’t generally one to give hugs, but he had no idea what else to do with a crying witch, and Hermione never had a problem hugging him. She wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his neck, sobbing quietly.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked quietly, now very worried about her. He’d never seen Hermione break down like this. The last time she’d even gotten close was during the potions puzzle in their first year, but even then she hadn’t sobbed. “What’s got you so upset?”

“It’s my fault,” she choked out. “It’s my fault.”

Harry was thoroughly confused. He meant to separate from her so he could look at her face, but she had her arms wrapped so tightly around him that there was no hope of escape. At least there were worse places to be stuck than in the arms of Hermione Granger.

“Hermione, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. Let’s sit down, okay?”

She nodded against his chest before pulling away from him. He took her hand and led her to a desk near them, letting her sit down before taking a chair and pulling it in front of her and taking his own seat. She didn’t let go of his hand the entire time, but he didn’t mind. If she needed to hold his hand to feel better, that was fine by him.

“Now, tell me what’s wrong,” he prodded gently.

“I was in the library earlier and something happened” she said, wiping tears from her face and taking gulps of air between every couple of words.

“DId someone hurt you? Was it Malfoy?” He stood, instantly furious at whoever had hurt her, whether it was physical or just words. She was distraught so it had obviously gotten to her.

“Harry, sit please, it wasn’t that,” she pleaded, tugging on his hand until he sat down in his chair again. “I was reading and doing homework. Krum’s fan club was around but then he came up to me and asked if he could sit down.”

“What did he want?” Harry asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“He asked me to the Yule Ball,” she said quietly.

“That’s…wow,” he breathed. He didn’t expect that. Viktor Krum asking Hermione to the Yule Ball? Not that Hermione didn’t deserve to go to the ball with whoever she wanted. Though, he did think it was a little weird with Krum being years older than them. But that still didn’t explain the wet spots on his shirt. “Wait, but why are you so upset?”

“I told him no.”

“Why did you do that?”

She swallowed a lump in her throat and looked down at their joined hands. He didn’t realize he had intertwined their fingers or that he had started rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “Well, at first, I was just thinking that I didn’t really know him. I mean, he’s a stranger and all I know about him is that he’s famous for being good on a broom.”

“That makes sense,” Harry said slowly, nodding. “Then what happened? You said that was ‘at first’, so there’s more?”

She nodded. Harry thought she looked afraid. “There’s more. When I said no…he asked me if it was because…because I was with you. I told him yes. I didn’t mean to do it, I know it was wrong of me, I just.. I panicked. I was nervous, and I really already wanted to go with you. I wasn’t going to go at all because I was starting to think you were never going to ask and I didn’t want to ask you because I was afraid you would say no and then I would look so stupid and it was all an accident. I didn’t mean to tell him that you were my boyfriend, Harry, I’m so sorry I know this such a mess and I can’t believe I did that and now he thinks we’re together and the whole school is probably talking about it right now and that’s why you heard people talking about us again.”

Harry was stunned, wide-eyed in the chair, looking down at their hands. Her words came out in such a rush that he was still processing the fact that she told Viktor they were together. He didn’t know what to think and the confusion only worsened the more he processed. Hermione wanted him to ask her to the Yule Ball and she wasn’t going to go if he didn’t? She was worried he would say no?

And then he realized what a monumental idiot he had been. He wished he had asked Hermione in the first place. Why had he been so worried about this ball when the answer was right in front of him? An entire week spent worrying and panicking over who to ask and how to do it, when he should have just realized Hermione was the only person he could ever possibly have fun with at something like this. He was so impressed with his idiocy that he laughed.

“This isn’t funny, Harry James!” she said, swatting his arm with her free hand. “I’m seriously freaking out and I need you to say something!”

Harry took a deep breath and looked at her. She had more tears welling in her eyes and it really did look like she was freaking out, and probably had been ever since it happened.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I was only laughing because I realized how stupid I’ve been this past week, worrying about who to ask and how to do it. So, Hermione, would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes went as wide as saucers.”You…you…you…really want to go…with me?”

“Yeah, I do.” He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “I should have realized immediately that you’re the only one I’d even have fun with. We do everything together. Of course I want to go with you.”

“Oh, yes, please, Harry, I’d love to go with you,” she said, crying in earnest as she flew out of her seat and wrapped her arms around his neck. Harry grunted as she squeezed him tight. He hugged her back and stood so that she didn’t have to stay bent over.

It took a minute, but she let go of him and they separated. Then it was time for Harry to bring up the other part of her confession.

“So…you told Krum that we’re dating…”

“Yes,” she grimaced. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I completely understand if you want to make it clear that we’re not. Obviously we’re not dating so I can just…tell Krum I lied if he asks. He was really creepy at the end so I’ll just have to avoid him.”

“Well, look.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, I don’t really like the idea of him bothering you again if he finds out we’re not really dating, plus the whole school probably knows by now, right? And it won’t do us any good to deny it. So, we can pretend to date and then when this is all over we can ‘break up’ with no harm done.”

“You would really pretend to date me just to keep Krum off of my back?”

“I would do anything for you, Hermione,” he smiled, and braced himself just as Hermione collided with his chest again.

“I was so worried that you would hate me,” she said quietly into his neck.

Harry rubbed her back in soothing circles. “Don’t be silly, Hermione. I could never hate you.”

“Right,” she said, separating from him. “We should probably figure out how we’re going to do this. I mean, how we’re going to act like a couple.”

“Okay, well that’s easy. We’ll just do what couples do. Hold hands and stuff.” Harry didn’t have a lot of experience with normal couples, but he knew the basics.

“Right, stuff. We can do that. Okay. Well, should we go down to dinner? I know we were going to go to the kitchens, but maybe we should make it clear to everyone that we’re a couple?”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Yeah, let’s go down to dinner. We’ll walk in holding hands and everybody will believe we’re dating.”

With a shy smile, Hermione held her hand out to him, and he took it, squeezing her hand in his before they turned to leave. They walked out of the classroom and were only a corridor away from the Great Hall. Harry expected himself to be nervous about this, presenting Hermione to the whole school as his girlfriend, but found that he wasn’t really nervous at all. He supposed it was because he knew it wasn’t real, so he didn’t have to worry.

Hermione pulled him to a stop just before they reached the doors, off to the side in an alcove so that no one could yet see them. She chewed her lip and glanced at the doors. “Are you sure about this, Harry? You really don’t have to do this. I know even fake dating me is probably not fun.”

“I’m sure, Hermione. I told you, I’d do anything for you. Plus, I think you underestimate yourself. Dating you, even if it isn’t fake, is not the ordeal you make it out to be. Ready?”

She nodded and smiled gratefully at him. Harry pulled her out of the alcove and they walked, hand in hand, into the Great Hall.

Hermione could feel everyone staring at her and Harry as they walked into the Great Hall. There had been loud talking before they walked in, but the entire hall fell silent when they stepped through the doorway. If it weren’t for Harry holding tight to her hand, pulling her along with him, she might have been frozen and unable to move. But there he was, saving her again as they walked down the hall and to the end of the Gryffindor table. She didn’t look at anyone in the hall, afraid of what she would see. It had been bad enough when Rita’s article came out, but now it was surely going to be worse. Murmurs and whispers rose as they took their seats next to each other.

Ron and Ginny both stormed up to them on the other side of the table, sitting heavily in their seats. Both Weasleys were red in the face and Hermione could picture steam pouring from their ears.

“So,” Ron bit out. “You’re dating.”

“Yeah,” Harry said defensively, “we are. Got something to say about it Ron?”

“You knew I…never mind. I don’t even believe you. When did you start dating? Why come out now? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

She and Harry glanced at each other, communicating with a look, and turned back to the red faced siblings. Hermione took over, her voice much steadier that she thought it would be, drawing strength from Harry as he squeezed her hand. “We started dating after the World Cup. We're coming out now because Krum asked me to the Yule Ball and I had to turn him down. He asked me why and I obviously told him that Harry and I were going together. The whole school would've known anyway, so we thought we'd get ahead of it. We didn't tell you because we wanted it to be kept secret for as long as possible and you have a big mouth. Not to mention you've been a really bad friend this year. You've not even apologized to Harry for what you did."

"Viktor Krum asked you to the Yule Ball? Whatever." He got up from the table and put a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Come on, Gin. Let's go."

Hermione looked at Ginny and watched her shake off Ron's hand. Her eyes were narrow as she glanced back and forth at Hermione and Harry. "Kiss, then. If you're really dating, you must kiss all the time. Go ahead.”

Hermione looked at Harry, her heart pounding against her chest, her face bright red. She hadn’t envisioned kissing Harry to be part of their fake dating. He hadn’t agreed to this. No matter how many times over the last few months she had imagined kissing Harry, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, in front of the whole school to prove they were dating when they really weren’t. Harry had a flush to his face, and she was glad to know that maybe he was just as nervous as she was. He nodded slightly and she took a deep breath. He leaned in toward her and she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips for just a moment before his lips were on hers, soft and warm.

Her eyes closed in the bliss she felt with Harry’s lips on hers. Her mind emptied of everything that wasn’t this kiss. She felt Harry’s lips open against hers and she opened her own, pushing her tongue gently against his. It was a slow exploration of each other’s mouths, only lasting a couple of seconds before Harry pulled away from her. Hermione opened her eyes slowly, feeling like she just stepped out of one of her dreams. Harry was looking at her strangely, blushing to his ears and she knew she must look the same with the warmth she could feel in her face.

He smiled at her and she grinned back at him before they turned back to Ginny, who was staring at them wide eyed with her mouth practically on the floor.

Harry cleared his throat. “Well, there you go, Ginny. Happy now?”

“Yes,” she said faintly. “I’m…very happy for you two.” Ginny stood from the table and walked away, leaving a sputtering Ron behind her.

For nearly two weeks, she and Harry pretended to date. Ginny came around quickly and was truly happy for them, while Ron had yet to talk to either of them. She had heard that he asked Fleur Delacour to the ball and made a fool out of himself, but wouldn’t speak to her or Harry when they tried to talk to him about it.

She wondered if Harry would ask her if they could let Ron know that it was all pretend, but he hadn’t done so yet and it was already the night before the ball. She was glad for that fact, as she didn’t want to tell Ron that she and Harry weren’t actually dating. It had quickly started to feel so real to her and she didn’t want to think about how it would end when the foreign students went home.

Since that day a week and a half ago, she and Harry would walk around holding hands wherever they went, whether it was to class, or a meal, or even on their walks around the lake where nobody could even see them. Best of all, to Hermione, were the kisses they shared. Harry would hold her hand and walk her to Ancient Runes or Arithmancy then kiss her softly, telling her he hoped her class was fun. It surprised her how easy it was to pretend to date Harry. It felt so natural to hold his hand or kiss him quickly when he came to meet her in the library or when she sat down next to him in the Great Hall. Harry was such a good actor and it made her incredibly sad that it would all end when the school year did. Her feelings toward her best friend turned fake boyfriend had grown exponentially since that first kiss and did not want to let them go.

Hermione sighed as she stood from the table in the library, pulling her bag onto her shoulder. She wished she were brave enough to tell Harry how she felt. Maybe if she were more Gryffindor, she would, and maybe Harry would actually like to date her for real. But she thought that the hat might have made a mistake when it put her in the house of the brave.

There was no one else in the library as she walked between the shelves toward the door. It had taken only three days for Krum to stop hanging around and watching her and Harry. If she gave Harry a kiss every now and then in the name of helping Krum decide to leave her alone, then Harry never complained about it, and if she didn’t stop giving Harry those extra kisses once Krum was gone, he never complained about that either.

She opened the doors and her shoes clicked on the floor as she walked toward the marble staircase that would take her to Gryffindor tower. She wondered where Harry was and thought he was probably in the common room already. There had been a moment earlier, after dinner, where she asked him if he was going to the library with her, and he told her he needed to think about something. It had worried her for exactly two seconds before he kissed her and told her he was okay.

Though, she couldn’t help but wonder what it was he needed to think about that he couldn’t think about with her around. Was he getting tired of their pretend relationship that she cherished so much? Maybe he had changed his mind about going to the ball with her. That thought actually made her shed a tear. He wouldn’t do that to her, would he? Harry was the best person she knew. He wouldn’t change his mind at the last minute and leave her to her own devices. Telling herself those things didn’t lessen the anxiety she felt as she climbed the marble staircase toward the tower.

Hermione took a deep breath as she approached the portrait of the Fat Lady. She straightened her back and set her shoulders, opening her mouth to give the password, but the look on the Fat Lady’s face made her pause. She was grinning at Hermione and it made her wholly uncomfortable. “What?” she asked.

The Fat Lady arched an eyebrow at her and didn’t lessen her grin. “Oh, nothing,” she said in a way that almost sounded as if she were singing. “Your beau is just inside. I heard some wonderful things coming from his mouth just an hour ago.”

“Well, what did he say?” Hermione asked impatiently, a little worried. The Fat Lady only got excited when there was gossip and drama to be had, and she didn’t like that she was excited about whatever it was she heard Harry saying.

“Maybe you should go in and find out,” the portrait continued, humming as she spoke.

“Fine. Balderdash.”

The Fat Lady nodded and swung her portrait open, revealing the Gryffindor common room. Hermione stepped in and immediately found Harry sitting on the couch with Crookshanks in his lap. She could see his shoulder moving as he stroked her cat’s back and it looked as if he might be talking softly to her familiar.

She stepped up to the sofa and rounded it, Harry’s head shooting up as she passed him. His eyes followed her as she sat next to him. Worried that it could be her last chance to do so, she turned in her seat and leaned forward, capturing his lips in hers. She quickly opened her mouth and let his tongue slide in to meet hers, relishing in the taste of him for what could be the last time. They separated when the need for air became too great and Hermione sat back.

“Wow,” Harry breathed, touching his fingers to his lips. He smiled at her. “What was that for?”

“Nothing,” she lied. “What have you been up to? Finished thinking?”

Harry nodded and took a deep, shaky breath that had Hermione worrying all over again. He nudged Crookshanks off his lap and stood, pacing in front of the sofa as her cat crawled off of it and onto the floor. “I did finish, yeah. But I’m not really sure how to say this, so if I mess up at any point, just know that I’m trying.” He looked at her and she nodded slowly. “So, the Yule Ball is tomorrow.”

“You changed your mind?” she said, a tear appearing in the corner of her eye.

His eyes widened, and he kneeled in front of her, taking her hands. “No, no, that’s not it at all, no. I haven’t changed my mind. I really do want to go with you. That’s not what I meant. Okay?”

She nodded once more.

“What I meant was that it’s tomorrow and….Merlin, I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Look, we’ve been doing this fake dating thing for nearly two weeks. But I don’t want to go to the ball as your fake boyfriend, Hermione. I want to go as your friend or…as your boyfriend. I know this is all pretend and everything but over the past week and a half it’s felt so real and I really don’t want it to end. I know we said we would break up when the school year ended but Hermione, I really don't want to break up. This is the best thing that I’ve ever had, really, and I want to be your real boyfriend – for real. I want the real thing with you.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Harry had taken all of her fears and turned them to ash while literally making her dream come true. She laughed and Harry swatted her arm.

“This isn’t funny, Hermione Jane! I’m seriously freaking out and I need you to say something!” She settled down and squeezed his hands, smiling down at him where he was on his knees on the floor.

“Harry, would you like to be my real boyfriend?”

The grin that split his face outshone the sun at its peak on a clear, cloudless day. “I would love to be your real boyfriend, if you would like to be my real girlfriend.”

She nodded, grinning, and Harry let go of her hands to take her face in his own before pressing the sweetest kiss yet to her lips.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter was an odd combination of extremely nervous and so excited that he felt like he would explode from the intensity of it. He paced back and forth at the bottom of the stairs to the girls’ dorm in the Gryffindor common room, his navy blue robes swishing with every turn he made. The previous night had gone so much better than he’d ever hoped for. He had told Hermione he needed to think, but he hadn’t really been thinking. He knew what he wanted to do, it’d just taken hours to gather the courage to do it. It had been a close run thing, but when she sat down on the sofa and kissed him like that, he could have fought another dragon without issue.

“Harry, relax,” Ginny laughed. “You’re going to wear out your shoes.”

“Honestly, mate,” Dean joined in. “You’ve got no reason to be nervous. You and Hermione are practically married already.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but footsteps at the top of the stairs brought his head turning sharply to face them. He waited, holding his breath, listening to the click of heels on stone, only to be disappointed when Lavender Brown appeared rather than his girlfriend. Wow, he thought. I love being able to say that even more now that she really is.

“Oh, don’t look so disappointed, Harry,” Lavender said. “I don’t look that bad, do I?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “Honestly, you look great, Lavender. Truly. I’m just…waiting for Hermione.”

“I cannot wait to see your face when she comes down those stairs.” She laughed. “You’re going to be blown away – though, you clean up well, yourself.”

“Thanks, Lavender. Have fun tonight.”

“I will, Harry, thank you.”

WIth a small wave, Lavender left the common room, off to find her date from Durmstrang, just as another set of heels clicked on the staircase. Once more, Harry turned to look at the stairs and held his breath. The first thing he saw were dark pink heels and pale legs, then Hermione descended the stairs as his jaw hit the floor.

Hermione was always beautiful. That was something he had learned over the course of the past two weeks. Before he started kissing her and seeing her as his girlfriend – even a fake one – he had never noticed before just how beautiful she was with her pale face, her full, pink lips, cute nose, enchanting brown eyes, and of course, her wonderful bushy hair. But now, as she came down the last few steps with a faint blush on her cheeks, it was like looking at Hermione in a completely different light. She was radiant, angelic, heavenly, bewitching – he could try for years and never find just the right word to describe the way she lit up the room.

Her dress was a soft, flamingo pink, hugging her chest and flaring out at the hips. Her hair was bundled into an elegant knot on top of her head with tendrils escaping to fall down her cheeks, framing her stunning face. She wore a light eyeshadow and lipstick that complimented her natural beauty.

Someone nudged him and he turned to his left to find Ginny nodding her head at Hermione. “Go on, lover boy, tell her she looks pretty.”

Harry turned back to Hermione who was looking at him with a shy smile on her face. He took her hands and kissed her cheek. “You look….just, amazing, Hermione. Wow.”

“That good, then?”

“Bloody perfect,” he breathed, and she beamed at him before kissing him soundly on the mouth until Ginny cleared her throat next to them. He separated from her breathlessly, gazing into her exceedingly lovely brown eyes. He offered her his arm, and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Let’s go and dance, shall we?”

“We shall,” she smiled.

Harry and Hermione, along with Ginny and Dean, made their way out of the common room and down the corridor to the marble staircase. His and Dean’s shoes and the girls’ heels were loud on the steps, echoing off of the walls, but they finally abated as they made it down to the first floor where a crowd of students waited outside of the Great Hall. He didn’t miss the way every gathered eye turned to the stairs and settled on Hermione. He saw more than one jaw drop, and he pulled her a little closer to his side.

“Jealous, Harry?” she teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“No,” he lied, grinning at her. “Okay, maybe a little. I just..”

“It’s okay, but really, Harry. I’m all yours. Plus, you should see all the girls staring daggers at me.”

“And I’m all yours,” he returned. Gods, what did he do to deserve this girl? They said goodbye to Ginny and Dean as they approached Professor McGonagall, who was corralling the other champions and their dates into a line off to the side of the doors while everyone else went inside. Krum was first, a seventh year Ravenclaw that Harry didn’t know hanging onto his arm. Next was Fleur, who had Roger Davies drooling as he looked at her in a vacant stare, and lastly came Cedric with Cho.

Harry and Hermione got in line behind them and Professor McGonagall sidled up to them, smiling, and Harry thought that she might even have a tear in her eye. “There you two are. The ball is about to begin. Once everyone is seated, you will go on and find your seats at the head table.”

“Yes, Professor,” they both said.

“And may I just say,” the professor continued, leaning in a little closer to them and quieting her voice, “that you two look just perfect. Harry, I know your parents would be so proud and impressed with you. Have a great time, you two.”

She smiled once more at them and nodded before moving back to the front of their little line.

“Are you okay?” Hermione whispered. He turned to look at her and found worry and concern in her eyes. He went to speak, but his breath caught in his throat. “Oh, Harry. I know your parents would be so proud of you. I wish they could see you now.”

“Me too,” he choked out. “I think they would love you, you know.”

“Really?” she said, her eyes wide. “You really think so?”

He nodded and smiled at her. “I know so.”

She kissed him softly on the cheek before turning back to the doors, bouncing slightly on her heeled feet. Harry was glad that she was excited, it made him a lot less nervous. He was holding onto hope that the dancing lessons he’d gotten from Hermione and Professor McGonagall stuck with him as they walked through the doors to the applause of the entire school.

The hall looked like a winter wonderland. Long strands of garland and ivy hung around the room, along with bunches of mistletoe, and the walls were covered in a silver frost. Christmas trees lined the back wall and the floor looked as if it were covered in a blanket of snow that was falling from the enchanted ceiling, though his feet did not feel cold or wet when he stepped onto it. The house tables were gone, replaced by many smaller, round tables that sat twelve people.

“It’s beautiful,” Hermione whispered in awe and all he could do was nod.

They approached the large, round table at the top of the hall, accompanied by the claps of the gathered guests until they sat down, Harry pulling out the chair for Hermione. She thanked him and he sat next to her. Looking around the table, Harry noticed that Mr. Crouch wasn’t in attendance, instead, Percy Weasley sat in his place.

“I wonder where Mr. Crouch is,” he whispered to Hermione as she told her plate what she wanted to eat.

She glanced up and he could see her face scrunch up as she thought about it. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s busy or sick.”

Harry thought that was just as likely as anything else. Eventually he told his glittering, golden plate what he wanted for dinner and tucked in. They spoke softly to each other and, surprisingly, Fleur who was next to Harry, and Cedric who was next to Hermione. They listened occasionally to the less heated arguments and showboating from Karkaroff and Madam Maxime. The headmaster even told an odd story about finding a room full of chamber pots when he needed a restroom that made Percy frown which in turn made Harry and Hermione laugh.

Once nearly all of the food was gone and everyone had their fill, Dumbledore stood and pressed his wand to his throat. “If everyone has finished their meal, I would ask you to now stand, please, so that our champions may open the Yule Ball.”

A round of soft cheering came from the students gathered in the hall while all of the students stood. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore sent all of the tables to the walls, leaving the majority of the floor open to dancing, while a small stage was erected on one wall.

The other champions and their dates stood. Harry surreptitiously wiped his now sweating hand on his trousers before standing from the table and offering Hermione his hand. She took it and they followed the others down to the dancefloor. Harry’s heart was beating faster the closer they got to their spot on the dance floor and he was sure Hermione’s hand would slip out of his grip with how much he was beginning to sweat. They stopped and Hermione pressed in close to him, kissing his cheek and whispering. “Just focus on me, Harry, and you’ll be fine. It’s just you and me.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. He kept one hand on Hermione’s while the other went to her waist and hers went to his shoulder. She smiled at him and he closed his ears to everything except for the music and Hermione’s soft breathing. His eyes saw nothing except her; her smile and her bright, happy eyes. And they began to dance.

The Weird Sisters played their song while Harry and Hermione did the waltz she had taught him. He didn’t know what he would have done without their fake dating. If it hadn’t been for that, he would have never learned to dance. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t have mattered, because he wouldn’t have had a date.

It wasn’t all that bad, dancing. In fact, he was enjoying it more than he had expected to, and he knew it was all because of Hermione. They finished the opening dance and Hermione moved to tug him along to a table, but he pulled her back to him as the other students walked out onto the dancefloor.

“Do you want to keep dancing?” he asked her, and her face lit up.

“You don’t mind?”

“I’m having fun,” he shrugged. “I’d love to keep dancing with you.”

“Then yes, please.”

And so they kept dancing. It didn’t take long for The Weird Sisters to begin playing something much slower. Harry pulled his girlfriend close to his chest and she wrapped her arms around his neck while he slung hers around her middle. She rested her cheek against him and they swayed slowly on the post, turning in a slow circle as they held onto each other. Harry would occasionally press a kiss to her hair and sometimes she would tip her face up to ghost a kiss to his cheek or capture his lips for a few moments.

Harry caught a couple glances at Ron, who was sitting at the table with a very unhappy looking Padma next to him, and Krum, who kept looking at him and Hermione with a frown, but he didn’t let any of it get to him while he had the world’s most perfect friend – and girlfriend – in his arms.

Time passed quickly for them both. All too soon it was midnight and the professors were announcing that the ball was over. Harry and Hermione separated and joined their hands as they made their way out of the hall, following Ginny and Dean just in front of them. They made it all the way up to Gryffindor tower and stepped through the portrait. Harry led Hermione to the girls’ staircase and pulled her to a stop, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You were incredible tonight, Hermione. You look just…I can’t even say how beautiful. Thank you, for everything. For lying to Krum and starting this whole thing. Who knows where we’d have ended up if not for that?”

“Yes,” she chuckled, a soft pink tinge to her cheeks. “I'll have to lie to people more often, won’t I? Thank you, as well, Harry. I had the most perfect night.” She kissed him slowly, winding her hands through his hair, until they were both panting for breath. “But now, I’ve worn out the comfort charms on these heels and my feet are killing me, so I must be off to bed. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“You’ll see me every day if I have anything to say about it. Good night, Hermione. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Harry. Good night.”

She pulled off her heels, holding them in one hand as she climbed the staircase. She looked back just before she left his vision and he blew a kiss at her, making her laugh and smile. He stood there looking at the empty staircase for a few minutes after she left, basking in the afterglow of a wonderful night spent with a wonderful girl.