AN: So I'm sitting at home watching Are You Being Served? and it's the German Week episode (if you've never seen Are You Being Served? you are lost now, but I digress) and Mr. Rumbold's secretary comes in wearing this costume, which happens to have a bodice, and it gets me to thinking. I kid you not the idea for this story sprung from the fact that a character on an old tv show was wearing a bodice. Stick with me I know where I'm going with this. Enjoy.
A masquerade. A dance. A party. A way to have a good time while hiding ones inhibitions behind a mask. The perfect opportunity to succeed where she had once failed. She had loved her best friend during their last two years at school, but she had never done anything about it. Now she has a second chance - the masque. An invitation had gone out to everyone in her year; everyone from every house was invited to a masquerade ball. And from what she had heard everyone had accepted. She would see Him again; she would get a second chance at her first love.
"Hermione, that dress is perfect."
"You think so?"
"Definitely, you'll have every head turning towards you." It was the day of the masque and Hermione Granger was standing in her bedroom with her best friend Ginny Weasley examining the dress Hermione had chosen. The dress was of an old style. It had a tight bodice that laced up the back (and accentuated her chest) and a full skirt. The dress was a deep crimson color, had gold stitching, and a gold pattern stitched around the skirts hem.
"I think it was worth the money." Hermione said if only to justify her frivolousness to herself. The dress and matching mask had been very expensive.
"It is or it will be when he sees you in it." Hermione blushed madly at the thought of seeing Him again. Ginny was the only person who knew of Hermione's true love. "It will be perfect now, let's fix this hair of yours."
Hormones and time had tamed Hermione's unruly hair. It was no longer bushy though it now had a natural wave to it. Ginny used the wave to her advantage and managed to get Hermione's hair, which when lying naturally traveled halfway down her back, to lie in soft curls. Being very careful not to disrupt the curls she had just created, Ginny helped Hermione put on her mask. It was a gold mask with a detailed pattern painted on it in red. The mask covered the area around Hermione's eyes and the bridge of her nose.
"You look absolutely amazing Hermione. Now go get the man you deserve." Hermione smiled at Ginny, hugged her, and then Apparated to the location of the party.
The party room was already full of people. Everyone looked wonderful, but from what she could see - he wasn't there yet. Hermione backed away from the door. Maybe she would give Him a little more time.
Half an hour later twenty more people had arrived and Hermione was still hiding in a corner of the hall. None of the people had been Him and Hermione was loosing whatever faith she had in herself and her plan.
"Excuse me - are you heading into the masque?" A vaguely familiar voice asked. Leaning around the statue she was hiding behind Hermione saw a tall blond man standing there looking inquisitively at her. There was a glint in his brown eyes, which were, like Hermione's, framed in a gold mask, that reminded Hermione of someone, but she couldn't think of anyone she knew with blond hair and brown eyes. Hermione looked him over. He was wearing a black suit, with a red shirt and tie the same color as Hermione's dress. He was attractive - Hermione could see that even if his face was mostly obscured.
"Um miss?" He asked taking a few more steps towards her.
"Oh, yes I am. When I arrived I was reminded of some old school memories and was just taking a moment to collect my thoughts."
"May I escort you inside, then, if were both going in the same direction?" Hermione thought for a moment. What about Him? She still hadn't seen Him, but surly going inside with this blond wouldn't stop her from seeing Him when he arrived.
"Sure." Hermione said taking the arm he offered. With her arm laced through his, the tall blond stranger led Hermione into the masque. When they entered those people dancing by the door stopped and looked at Hermione, it spread like a ripple on pooled water and soon everyone was staring at her - them.
It was one of those magical moments from a fairy tail. All she needed now was for her prince to come and sweep her onto the dance floor. But looking into ever corner of the room, searching every pair of eyes for the ones she wanted to see, she realized he wasn't there. A fairy tale moment waiting to happen cut off by reality.
"Would you like to dance?" The stranger asked leading her towards the dance floor before she could respond. Not that she would have said no, there was no reason to go to a dance if you weren't going to dance. When they reached the dance floor The Blond wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and pulled her close to him.
"You don't mind?" He asked. She shook her head, she didn't mind. Though Hermione was dancing with The Blond her mind kept filling with thoughts of Him and she continually looked at the door. She was determined not to miss his entrance.
"Are you expecting someone?" The Blond asked after she had looked towards the door for the fifth time in two minutes.
"Why?"
"Because you keep looking to the door."
"Oh well I was kind of hoping to see an old friend of mine whom I haven't seen since graduation." Hermione said looking into The Blond's eyes. The more she looked at his eyes the more familiar they looked.
"I though the whole point of all this was not to be recognized; how ever will you recognize this friend of yours?"
"This friend of mine is easily recognizable."
"Is that a good thing?"
"He would probably say it isn't."
"He?"
"Yes he."
"Was he a boyfriend?"
"No just one of my best friends."
"Did you ever want him to be more?"
"No," Hermione said looking away from his eyes. She didn't want The Blond to see the weakness that she knew was there when she thought about Him. They danced on in silence for a while.
"Did you graduate the same year as the rest of us?" Hermione asked looking back to him. She scanned his eyes again. "Only I don't remember you. The only blond I remember is standing over there." She had been referring to Draco Malfoy, a blond with silver eyes.
"I mostly kept to myself at school. I had very few friends, but that was the way I preferred it."
"Were you parents wizards?"
"Does it matter?"
"No I was just making conversation."
"Yes they were. You?"
"No I'm a muggle born. My parents are dentists."
"So if this friend of yours was one of your best friends, why haven't you seen him in four years?"
"After graduation he and our other best friend decided to tour Europe. They were gone for six months. Over those six months we didn't write at all, I guess they were to busy traveling and I could never think of anything to say. When they came back I got a couple of letters from both of them, but I don't know I guess distance and time changes things. After a while we stopped writing to each other and I just lost track of them." There was a long silence again. Around them the dance floor was almost completely empty. Mostly everyone had stopped dancing to eat, but Hermione and The Blond danced on. He seemed unwilling to let her go, which was fine with her. The Blond's arm around her waist, made her forget about Him
As the night went on Hermione and The Blond continued to dance. With every song their bodies came closer together. Her hands moved to wrap around his neck and her head rested on his shoulder. The Blond's hands were both around her waist now resting where he knew her butt would be under the massive skirt she was wearing. Their conversation picked up as well. The Blond made her laugh and talking to him was more comfortable then talking to anyone else she had ever known.
As midnight drew near the dance floor filled around them. Everyone wanted to be out on the dance floor when they finally pulled off their masks. The Blond and Hermione were oblivious to any of this. They were locked together, still dancing though the music was dieing away. At one minute to midnight The Blond took hold of either side of Hermione's face. Her lips met his hungrily. She had wanted him to do that for hours. There lips broke apart seconds later and The Blond looked at her with a seductive glint in his eyes.
"Come with me." The Blond whispered taking her hand and leading her out of the masque. Hermione followed. Once out in the hall The Blond took her other hand and Apparated to his apartment. The room they were standing in was dark, but The Blond knew his way around. He led her down a hall and into a room that had moonlight pouring through large windows on the right side of the room. The moonlight illuminated something sitting in the middle of the room up against the far wall. The Blond's bed. Hermione looked at him and smiled. The Blond had made her forget about Him, something no one had ever done before, she wanted this.
Letting go of her hands The Blond stepped behind Hermione and time seemed to slow as he brushed the soft curls of her hair to one side and began kissing her neck. Hermione inhaled sharply as he kissed the small grove at the base of her skull. As he kissed her his hands moved to the lacing of her bodice and she felt it loosen around her. He pushed the bodice apart and began kissing down her back.
Hermione raised her hands to her shoulders and pushed the sleeves of the dress down her arms. The bodice fell from her upper body. The Blond paused in his kisses and Hermione turned to see him standing in front of her taking off his suit jacket. Hermione stepped towards him and the dress, which was barley clinging to her hips, fell away, she was standing now wearing only a pair of white lace panties. She helped him out of his tie as their lips met again. The Blond undid his shirt, tossed it aside, and pushed Hermione towards the bed.
The bed was right behind them now; Hermione could feel the edge of it against her legs. The Blond removed his pants and they fell to the bed. Hermione pushed herself back and The Blond followed her. His lips came off of hers and they both gasped for air. The Blond smiled at Hermione and started kissing her body; the supple curve of her breast, her round nipples, and her flat stomach. Hermione's lips parted in soft moans that grew lauder as his lips descended her body. He reached the waist band of her underwear and rolled them down her legs. Hermione kicked them off her feet and pulled The Blond up her body. She reached out her hands towards his mask, but he stopped her.
"Don't." He said simply. She lowered her hand. The Blond locked her lips in another passionate kiss as he reached down and freed himself from his boxers. She felt him enter her and a laud moan was lost into his lips. The Blond's movement was strong, but his touch was gentle. He made her moan in happiness and yell in ecstasy at the same time.
They made love into the early hours of the morning, framed in the moonlight that poured through The Blond's window. When they both could go on no longer Hermione fell asleep on The Blonds firm, hairless chest, one of her legs was wrapped around his and his arm was holding her close to his body.
The sun hit Hermione directly in the face the next morning and threw her unceremoniously into consciousness. She looked to The Blond, he was still asleep. His head was turned away from the windows. But who was he? That was the question. Last night had been the most passionate night of her life. She had to know who could make her feel so full of ecstasy. If only she could remove his mask surely she would recognize him. He had been in her year at school.
Hermione could feel The Blond's hand on her back, but his hold on her was limp. She could move with out disturbing him. Unwrapping her leg from around his, Hermione rose to her knees and leaned over The Blond. The angle of his face would be a problem. Hermione crawled over him, got off the bed, walked across the room, and closed the curtains. She turned back to the bed and saw The Blond had turned his head. He was still asleep, but his face was now turned to the ceiling.
She climbed back onto the bed, again kneeling over The Blond, and gently pulled the mask away from his face. He shifted in his sleep and Hermione stopped dead, if he awoke while she was removing his mask he would stop her. Luckily he didn't wake. She continued to pull the mask off and as she did his face changed. The shape of his eyes rounded out more, the blond color in his hair melted away, and the shadow of something appeared under his hairline. It was Him.
"Harry," she whispered. The man she had made love to last night, was Harry Potter. Harry Potter, the best friend she had loved for six years; that she hadn't seen in the last four.
Harry gave a slight groan and woke with a sudden start. Hermione dropped his mask on the pillow next to him and kissed him with everything she had. When Hermione pulled her lips off of him he smiled at her.
"I didn't know if you'd still be here." He said and then gave a quizzical look, almost as if he was surprised by his own voice. Thinking about it Hermione realized that his voice was not the same as it had been the night before; another thing the mask had apparently distorted. Harry reached up and touched his face, feeling for the mask.
"I took it off. I had to know who you were."
"Hermione, I - I'm sorry. I know you love Ron, but seeing you last night I just couldn't -," Hermione silenced him by kissing him again.
"Harry what are you talking about? The friend I wanted to see last night was you. Harry I love you."
"But Hermione you said you didn't want this friend to be more."
"I lied." Harry kissed her. "Why were you wearing a disguise?"
"I didn't want people recognizing me and badgering with questions about Voldemort."
"Where did you get that mask, it's amazing?"
"Fred and George actually made it for me." Harry said and after a long pause added. "I love you Hermione."
"I love you too. I always have."
AN: Not to bad for the most random idea ever? Well I like the way it turned out, but let me know what you think. Please review.
Oh and the whole concept of Harry wearing a enchanted mask that completely disguised his face came from a song from Phantom of the Opera called Masquerade the line "Masquerade! Paper faces on parade . . . Masquerade! Hide your face, so the world will never find you!" made me think of how Harry wished he could change his appearance like Tonks in the beginning of book 5.
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