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The Yule Ball was approaching and it was clear. The students of Hogwarts were acting as though Charmed.
The girls whispered and giggled much more than usual, particularly around Harry, then they would disappear for hours at a time. Even Hermione. And she wouldn't tell him why!
And then there were the guys. They would talk about girls all the time, about dates, and who’s was the prettiest. About what they wouldn't do to them and how they would get them to agree. Of course, it was all said when the girls weren't around.
Neither was Harry, since he ran away as soon as he saw where it was all going. Interestingly, neither was Ron. And he wasn't with Harry either.
That little mystery solved itself when one day his redheaded friend strode into the dorm room in what were obviously new dress robes. There was a stark contrast to the old, laced robe smelling of Ron's aunt.
Seamus whistled. Harry applauded. Ron gave an exaggerated bow.
"I thought you'd wear that piece of trash!" Seamus said.
"Yeah, everyone thought so." Dean agreed.
Harry didn't add that they thought Ron was mental for doing so. Not aloud.
"Nah, I couldn't do that to my date, you know?" Ron said.
"You've got a date!" the two boys chorused.
"Is she pretty?"
"Did you kiss her?"
"Does she have a friend?"
"Did you actually ask her or simply trip over her?"
"Oi!"
As they bickered, Harry eyed Ron suspiciously. Ron didn't tell him he had a date. Well, neither did he tell Ron. Was it some kind of revenge? He couldn't honestly say he knew Ron this year.
"Guys, listen, I cannot tell you." Ron put his hands up. "I promised her not to tell anyone."
"What, is she embarrassed of you?" Dean teased.
"I hope not. She said she doesn't like the attention. Besides, you're not grilling Harry about his date."
Dean stared at him incredulously. "Yeah, because we know who he's going with."
"What!" both Ron and Harry shouted.
Ron turned on Harry.
"You didn't tell me!"
"I didn't tell them either!" Harry defended.
"Dude, the whole school knows." Dean said.
"Yeah, because it's obvious." Seamus added. "You were the first one to ask a girl out. And the whole Gryffindor House saw how giddy she was."
"Wait!" Dean pointed at Harry. "You didn't tell him?!"
"No." Harry said. "I didn't tell anyone."
"Well." Dean turned to Ron. "It's kinda your fault you didn't figure it out."
"You're in for a big surprise." Seamus added.
"Yeah. You too." Ron muttered under his breath.
"What?"
"Uh, nothing. Just talking to myself."
"So, soon we'll find out." Harry said conversationally. Ron didn't seem to have heard.
They stood by the staircase to the girls' dorm, waiting for Hermione to come down. Harry was getting excited for the party, which surprised him. His highest hope was to simply not dread it, but it looked like the atmosphere was contagious.
Ron, on the other hand, looked positively sick with worry. He couldn't stay put, his face was pale and he wiped sweat off his hands every few minutes.
"This is taking ages," he said. "Look, Harry, I really have to go pick up my date before I'm late. And..." he seemed unsure. "Just tell Hermione... Tell her... Nevermind. I'll tell her myself. Just don’t kill the guy she went with before I do, okay?"
"O-okay." Harry said, suddenly starting to sweat as well.
With that, Ron was off. And maybe that was a good thing.
Harry waited for quite some time. He only hoped they wouldn't be late. Every time a girl went down the stairs he perked up, only to see an unfamiliar face and have them dragged away by some other guy. And the last of them came down ages ago.
Then, he saw a movement. Someone was going down. Another unfamiliar face. Harry wanted to ask her if she'd seen Hermione, but when he opened his mouth, she looked at him.
He stopped. There, standing on the stairs, gazing straight at him, was the most beautiful woman he'd seen in his life. He numbly thought that was probably what other guys felt like when they saw Veela.
How would he describe her? Well, he couldn't. He could only stare at her deep brown eyes, her perfectly shy smile, the curly hair flowing down her neckline and what that dress did to her figure. And then, she spoke.
"So... How do I look?"
His mouth snapped shut. He'd recognize that voice anywhere! It didn't change, unlike the rest of her... perfect self. But, for some reason, it fit.
"It's perfect," he thought. And then he realised he said that out loud.
"Thank you, Harry." She joined him at the base of the stairs. "You're very presentable yourself."
"Sooo, uh, shall we go?"
"Why, yes, Harry." She grabbed his arm and let him lead her.
He tried to stay calm as they went down to the Great Hall. He tried to focus on anything other than her hand on his. Like maybe where Peeves was? Would people laugh at them? Watch the fake step! Would Ron really try to kill him? Her hair smells so nice. Oh, he was failing so miserably!
As they approached, he realised there would be a bigger problem. They were supposed to dance together. Yes, they had danced before. A lot, actually, what with all the extra practice they had needed. But not like this! Why did she decide to Transfigure herself into a goddess? Would he be able to keep his hands steady? Could he somehow not trip on his own feet when holding her? What did he do to deserve this punishment?
Ah, yes. He fell in love with his best friend. There was probably a rule against it. Or several.
When they reached the double doors of the Great Hall, the other champions were already there.
"Hello, Viktor." Hermione said.
‘Viktor?’ - he thought.
"Viktor." he gave a nod to Krum, and a raised brow to Hermione.
"Viktor visits the Library a lot, though he's very shy, so he only speaks when I'm alone." she whispered to him.
Harry puffed out his chest and gave Krum a measuring look. He came with a girl Harry didn't know, which was nothing new. Hogwarts had hundreds of students Harry didn't know.
"You hav' a very smart friend, Mr Potter." the Bulgarian said. "I find, vhat's the vord, ah, solace- I find solace in knowing that if I lose to you, I lose to her as vell."
This was a weird thing to say, despite Harry's lead in the Tournament. He decided to ignore it.
"Ah, Cedric!"
They exchanged cordial greetings. Cedric came with Cho, the Ravenclaw Seeker who flirted with all her rivals. Given that she could only get Cedric or Malfoy, she did well in Harry's book.
"You two look so cute together!" the Raven said and sent Harry into a blushing, coughing fit.
"Why, thank you." Hermione said, casting the Unchoking Charm on Harry.
"Y-yes, thank you." he smiled awkwardly at his date. "Thank you."
She pulled him in for a hug and whispered.
"Relax, tonight is supposed to be fun. And look, here goes Fleur."
There indeed she went, with some French guy based on his dress robes. In clasped shoes, breeches and a long jacket, he looked like a pirate next to the Princess of Beauxbatons. There was something oddly familiar about him.
They stopped with the other champions. Harry stared at the face of the red-headed pirate.
"Ron?"
The pirate gulped.
"Harry?"
Harry stared. Hermione prepared to cast the Unchoking Charm again. It wasn't necessary.
"You two look lovely." She engaged the Frenchwoman in conversation while the boys were busy gaping at each other.
They both spoke at the same time.
"You came with Fleur?"
"You came with Hermione?"
They paused.
"Don't kill me?" They said together.
They paused again. They burst out laughing.
"It's such a relief. I thought you'd think me a traitor or something!" Ron confessed.
"A traitor? For getting the girl everyone wanted? No way. Good for you, mate. How'd it happen? Why the pirate outfit?"
Ron shook his head.
"Remember the new robes I had?" Harry nodded. "They weren't new. I practised Transfiguring them every day, but Fleur insisted they weren't enough. Apparently, this is what's fashionable in France right now."
"Well, at least they aren't frilly." Harry said.
That's when McGonagall came and ushered them to lead the opening dance.
Harry was reminded of his previous predicament when Hermione took his offered hand. Namely: she was way too hot for his own good.
They entered as the last pair, with Cedric and Cho in the lead. Krum was blocking Harry's view of Ron trying his best not to look ridiculous next to Fleur, at least until the pairs split into a loose circle.
"Relax, Harry." Hermione whispered. "Eyes on me. Their attention can't harm you."
Completely misinterpreting his anxiety, she managed to add to it. Somehow he forgot about the crowds gaping at him like an ape in the zoo. 'Somehow', meaning 'because of Hermione’s exposed neckline', of course.
Maybe it was better that she misinterpreted it. Then again, maybe not?
"At least Ron isn't the only pirate out there." he commented as they circled the room in sync with the others.
She tried to hide an undignified snort. It was enough for him to glance at her, and then he couldn't look away.
"He does make a smashing pirate." she said. "But he needs a cutlass at the very least. Move your hand lower."
He gulped.
"I don't think there is any lower for me to move it. Doesn't he need an eyepatch too?" He led her into a pirouette.
She quirked an eyebrow as she returned from it.
"It's called a hip, Harry. I have two of those and you've already touched them when we practised. And I wouldn't trust Ron to dance with an eyepatch. He'd elbow me in the face and then I'd actually need an eyepatch."
Harry's laughter was fortunately masked by an upbeat in the orchestra.
"You're right. It'd be a shame to lose such a pretty eye."
Said eyes flashed with mirth.
"The left or the right one?" she asked.
"Either of them would be too precious to lose."
She smiled brighter.
"Why, Mr Potter, are you flirting with me?"
He felt his face burn redder than Ron's hair as they spiralled in four separate circles with the other champions.
"Have you done something to your teeth? I swear they are more in line than ever before."
"I had them fixed ages ago and you know it, Harry. You're getting too good at avoiding my questions."
"I'm doing nothing of the sort." he said as he led her into another pirouette.
"Then you admit you're trying to flirt with me."
He swallowed.
"I might be."
Her eyes flashed again, along with her teeth.
"I might be worried for my virtue if you weren't acting so shy tonight, Harry. Now, hand lower and pull me closer. Our frame is too loose."
He didn't know if it would require more courage to follow her command or to deny it. He went with his gut, which told him to always listen to Hermione. It saved his life more than once.
"It's your own damn fault, Hermione." he whispered to her ear.
"How so?" she breathed back as they went back to circling the entire dance floor.
"You're too pretty tonight." he said, then reconsidered. "I mean, you're always pretty, but tonight you've outdone yourself and it's very distracting."
There was a pause he failed to interpret.
"Are you complaining or complimenting?"
He forced himself not to shrug, as it would disrupt their frame.
"A bit of both, I guess. Mostly just asking to give me some slack. I can't keep up with you in god-mode."
"God-mode?" she asked, gobsmacked.
Harry was saved from responding by the applause of the crowd, signalling the end of the opening song. He led her to join the other three pairs in a bow.
He was further saved by the announcement of the meal and sitting together with the other champions and their partners at a table. She couldn't very well drill him for answers with all those people around, could she?
Well, just to make sure, he struck up a quiet conversation with Ron.
"So, you and Fleur?" he asked.
"Yeah, I asked her weeks ago. She was just coming up the stairs, I was going down, I couldn't help myself..."
"You asked her?"
Ron nodded.
"And she said yes?"
Ron laughed.
"Of course not. I was standing there like an idiot, rooted to the spot, and she asked me why in Merlin's name she would ever dance with me."
"And?" Harry coaxed.
"I told her she wouldn't find another guy who wouldn't have pissed his pants by now."
Harry laughed. "And it worked?"
"Well, it might have helped that the entire time we spoke in French. And then I told her it would also annoy racist pricks like Malfoy and that it was just one dance after all, I wasn't asking her to marry me or anything."
Harry nodded sagely. Then his brain tripped.
"You speak French?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Exactly, why!"
Ron looked puzzled.
"Because they're the closest neighbours Britain has and mom thinks we'll all be Ministers of Magic." he paused thoughtfully. "And I liked the lessons more than cleaning."
"Wait, you know French?" Hermione asked Ron.
"Yeah." he said.
And then they started talking in French over Harry's head. Fleur joined in. He could only smile and nod every time one of them looked at him. Hermione was doing it suspiciously often. He wondered what she was thinking and if she thought he was actually conveying any information with his stupid nodding. He hoped not. It wouldn't do to agree to anything by accident.
Unless it would be agreeing to be her boyfriend. That would be perfect, actually. He wished he could just be on the other side of that conversation already. He wouldn't have to go through it. And the wait was killing him. He really should just go ahead and have that conversation.
Having made that decision, he stood up.
"Pardon." he said the only word he knew in French and offered his hand to Hermione. "Would you dance with me?"
"Now?" she asked in surprise.
"Now," he said.
She took the offered hand and let herself be led back to the empty dance floor. This has been a bad idea, in retrospect. Or maybe not. He couldn't stress about the conversation and the unwanted audience at the same time, could he? Would the two anxieties add to or cancel each other out?
He had already started leading Hermione into the well-practised motion. The slow up-and-down swaying, careful steps, and rigid frame reminded him of flying, in a twisted sort of way. Like the moment he hung in the air, watching for the glint of gold, his muscles taut, balancing on a thin line of wood. Except this time the glint was bronze.
That’s when he realised he had been staring into Hermione's eyes, not watching where he was going. He looked around; the dance floor was decidedly less empty. Fortunately, Ron caught his eye and invited Fleur to dance as well; others quickly followed suit.
"So, what brought on this self-induced flagellation with eyes?" she asked, a hint of... something, in her voice. Was it amusement? Anxiety?
"I just wished to dance with my goddess." he said without thinking. It was the best, or worst, type of talking he could do. Either way, the only one right now.
"I thought you didn't want to talk about that?" she asked.
"I don't really know what I want half the time." he suppressed a shrug. "I'm a bit like a girl that way."
She raised a brow at him.
"Are you insinuating I'm indecisive as well?"
He cringed internally. Externally, he led her into a revolution to buy himself time.
"Maybe I'm just saying we're not so different, you and I." he finally said.
"Except that I'm a goddess?" she asked incredulously.
He nodded minutely.
"And I'm a fool."
She half-sighed.
"I honestly don't know what to do with you?"
He swallowed his wits, so they stopped warning him against saying the next line.
"Kiss me, maybe?"
Suddenly, her face became serious. She looked all business, completely in control, except he didn't believe she had intended to crush his hand like that.
"Don't mock me, Harry Potter." she said flatly.
"What makes you think I am?" he asked, feeling sweat drip from his arms.
"You spend half the evening joking, the other half ignoring me, then..."
"I'm not." he cut her off. "Ignoring you, that is. Neither teasing, nor mocking."
She set her jaw, waiting for him to continue.
"I'm mostly just trying not to faint on you, really." he said, holding her gaze, fearing she'd run if he looked away. "You really outdid yourself with the hair, the dress, the make-up... Do you even have make-up?"
"Of course I have make-up, silly boy. But if that's your reason for kissing me, I'm..."
"Hermione." he cut her off. He should probably stop doing that. It could become a bad habit. She wouldn't like that.
"Harry?" she asked when he took too long to continue. Her voice was so shaky, almost broken. Vulnerable.
That's when it clicked for him. She was vulnerable. She was as afraid as he was. Suddenly when he wasn't afraid anymore. Not of her.
"Hermione," he said steadily. "I didn't ask you here as a friend."
She hiccuped.
"Harry?"
He held her tighter, afraid she'd fall.
"Yes?"
She leaned closer, her eyes focused somewhere below his.
"I... I was hoping you'd say that. No, that's a lie. I didn't dare hope. I wanted you to. I dreamed about it, then reprimanded myself for such frivolity. All these times we practised..."
"Hermione." he cut her off. Her eyes flicked up to his.
"Yes?" she asked, trembling.
"You talk too much."
He leaned in, twisted his head to avoid hitting her nose, his hands were trembling in hers, he closed the distance, he felt her breath in his mouth...
He met her lips with hers.
They were soft. Warm and slightly wet. They touched against his gently.
The tremor in their hands calmed and slowed to a stop.
He enveloped her lower lip in his and sucked lightly.
She wilted against him and moaned quietly.
She opened her mouth. He took it as an invitation.
He joined his lips to hers, opening them lighty, and let his tongue out to meet hers.
It was sweet. Sweet and slippery, like a warm snake with snakes of velvet, slithering out and around his, circling it gently, caressing it.
He closed his lips around it and sucked.
She giggled. It had the unfortunate effect of withdrawing from his mouth. She smiled at him softly, then reddened and hid her face in his chest.
He only now noticed they had stopped dancing. It was a miracle no other pair stumbled into them.
He gathered the curly cloud of hair into his arms, caressing her head gently.
"Hermione? Are you okay?"
She was shaking against his chest, giving off a muffled sound.
"Hermione?"
She threw her head back in laughter. He could feel his face burn at the sound
"Hermione!"
She struggled to contain herself, still laughing softly, giving him a mischievous smile. She hugged him tightly, almost hurting his ribs, and whispered into his ear.
"The goddess gives you her blessing."
He laughed and hugged her back, lifting her off the floor, and spun her in a circle.
In that moment, he truly did feel blessed.
~ The End ~