Unofficial Portkey Archive

This Night is Mine

Chapter 4- The Fall Ball

"'Hermione?" She jumped, then felt her face burning as he realized it was Harry standing over her.

Her hands flew to her face. "What? Oh, sorry…I was just…"

"Lost in space?" Harry suggested, his dark eyebrows raised.

"Yes," Hermione smiled, "something like that."

He was still wearing his Quidditch robes from that morning's practice. Behind him she saw a few members of the team stomp through the common room and toward their staircases, though she knew Ron and Ginny would not be among them. They always went directly to eat before anything else.

Harry smiled and held out his hand. "Ready for lunch?" he asked. She put her hand in his and let him pull her out of her chair. He made to hang onto it, but she deliberately pulled it away and slipped it into the pocket of her robe. Harry looked at her and his face went slightly red, then he shrugged and headed toward the door. Unsure what his reaction meant, she sighed and followed.

The truth was, the past couple of days had been full of moments like that. She shook her head as she climbed through the portrait hole behind him. A few days ago, he would have held out a hand and helped her through, but today he just shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for her. She missed the feel of her hand in his, it had been so easy, so friendly, and she loved the way the long fingers and calloused skin felt against hers. But she had to back off, she had to limit how much she could let herself touch him, be touched by him, because she found herself in the middle of a most inconvenient phase. She was attracted to her best friend.

She was well aware it was just a phase-hadn't she been attracted to nearly every boy in the upper years at some point? Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus, Harry again, that weird time where she had entertained some star-crossed lovers fantasies about Malfoy, until Malfoy had tried to hex Harry, which had put a stop to that. She had had a brief crush on Percy Weasley their third year, when Percy was Head Boy, and even on George Weasley, though not Fred, because George was the more sensitive of the twins. Harry again, Ernie MacMillan, Terry Boot, when he had said that thing fifth year about her being so smart, Professor Lupin, Harry. Then Ron had started to show real interest in her, and her feelings were pulled in his direction. And now Harry again.

She knew it had to just be a passing attraction, but the problem was that there was a lot more at stake this time than in all the others. Harry was her best friend, he knew her like nobody else in the world did, not even Ginny or Ron knew her like Harry did. What if she made a pass at him and made things awkward between them? It wouldn't be worth it. Not for just a few stolen kisses. Not even hot, mind melting kisses like that one by the lake….not even kisses that turned her bones to jelly and made her tingle in places she couldn't talk about…Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head sharply. Nothing would be worth losing Harry's friendship.

Harry was quiet as they walked down the several staircases between Gryffindor Tower and the Great Hall. He was kicking himself inwardly, again. He wasn't entirely stupid; he had noticed that Hermione was keeping her distance since two nights ago when they had sat out by the lake together. The night that he had kissed her. You're such a prat, Potter, he told himself for the hundredth time. What the hell were you thinking? But he hadn't been thinking. It had been…he didn't know. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure it out. It had been like they were in someplace unreal, someplace else, and it was beyond his control, it was inevitable, he had to kiss her. But he knew now he shouldn't have done it. He should have controlled himself. Hermione was his best friend, he couldn't make it without her. If he drove her away, what would he do?

They reached the Great Hall and settled on the benches next to Ron and Ginny. Fortunately, Ron and Ginny were engaged in an argument and didn't notice the lack of conversation coming from Harry and Hermione.

"C'mon, Gin," Ron said, swallowing a bite of shepherd's pie. "I'm going to find out tonight anyway."

"No way," Ginny said, shaking her head adamantly. "Look, Ron, it's none of your business, and I don't want to start a fight, okay?"

"Your date to the Ball is something that would cause a fight?" Ron asked grimly.

"Yes," Ginny said in an exasperated voice, "which is why I'm not telling you. Or any of those other gits who call themselves my brothers."

"Geez, Gin, what's the deal?" Ron asked in annoyance. "You dating a teacher or something?"

"Go to hell, Ron," Ginny said sweetly. Ron started to object again, but Ginny pulled out her wand and said, "Silencio!" leaving Ron gaping like a fish. With a wave at Harry and Hermione, Ginny grabbed up a cake and left the table. Hermione released Ron from Ginny's spell.

Harry turned to Ron and said, "You still want to come with me to Hogsmeade after lunch?"

Ron was still looking disgruntled and watching after Ginny, but he nodded. "Yeah, I've got to pick up some things, too. You about ready?"

Hermione frowned at Harry. "Why are you going to Hogsmeade today?"

"Pick up my costume," Harry said.

"Really?" Hermione thought of her own costume and blushed. "What are you going as?"

"Can't tell," Harry grinned smugly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. "All right, fine. Don't tell me. But you're supposed to help the band set up at six, all right? I'll be getting ready by then."

Harry nodded and Hermione left the Great Hall, and Ron and Harry walked out the front doors and headed toward Hogsmeade.

*******************************

It was almost like a slumber party, and though Hermione was dreadfully nervous, she couldn't help but enjoy the group of girls crowded into her dorm room. At five o'clock, Ginny had appeared at her door with Luna, both of them with their arms full. She had looked nervous, but her jaw was set in that stubborn Weasley way.

"Er…if it's all right…" Ginny had stammered, "I thought it'd be fun…you know…we could all get ready together."

Luna reached into a bag that was hanging from her elbow. "I didn't think we'd want to eat in the Great Hall, so I brought snacks." She pulled out a package of something Hermione had never seen before, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. Luna, however, just beamed at her and didn't offer an explanation.

"Erm…all right," Hermione said hesitantly. She still hadn't entirely forgiven Ginny for hurting Harry, but she was trying. Still, after being kissed by Harry, even if it could never happen again, she was grateful that Ginny had been such an idiot. She could understand it even less than before, but she was grateful.

Ginny grinned in relief and Luna floated in dreamily. They started to lay their things out on Hermione's bed, piece by piece. Hermione was about to ask about their costumes when two more girls walked in.

"Hi, girls!" said Parvati cheerfully. Her twin, Padma, smiled at them. Hermione knew that Padma was definitely the more serious of the two girls, though she was just as lovely as her sister. "We thought we'd get ready together, since we have matching costumes."

"That sounds fun," said Hermione, "what are you…" but she was interrupted again as Lavender and Susan Bones walked in the door. They had costumes floating in front of them and it took Hermione a minute to realize who was there. By the time she could greet them, they had crossed the room. Soon, the girls were all sitting around in dressing gowns or simply in bras and panties. Hermione hesitated; she was usually a private person, but tonight she felt a strange longing just to be one of the girls. Summoning her courage, she stripped off her robe and the jumper underneath it, then slid out of her jeans. She slipped on her dressing gown and sat down at her vanity, looking at her face.

"What will you do with your hair?" said Luna from behind her.

"And your make-up?" Ginny added, joining them at the dressing table. Ginny was giving her a very calculating look, and Hermione wasn't sure she trusted it.

"And your unmentionables?" Luna said. Hermione blushed, but Luna just waited with a dreamy patience for her answer.

"Well," Hermione began nervously, "I'm not-"

"Hang on," Ginny interrupted. She turned and called across the room. "Parvati? Can we get a glass of that over here? Hermione needs a drink."

Hermione frowned. "A drink of what?"

Ginny smiled innocently. "It's just butterbeer, Hermione."

"Oh, all right," Hermione said, relieved. Parvati brought over a glass filled with butterbeer and set it down in front of Hermione. Hermione took a sip, then looked into the glass suspiciously. "It tastes funny."

Ginny shrugged. "It's probably a bit stale. Anyway, let's start at the inside and work our way out. Have you shaved your legs? Pits? Bikini line?"

"Er…yesterday," Hermione said.

"Not good enough," Ginny announced, as Luna handed her her wand. Resigned to their friendly bullying, Hermione ran her wand up and down her legs and mumbled the charm. In the mirror she could see that other girls were doing the same thing. She let out a breath. This really was rather fun. Ginny and Luna had their legs propped up on the bed. Hermione took a sip of her butterbeer, thinking it wasn't that bad, even if it was a bit stale.

"All right, what next?"

Within minutes, the room full of girls had glistening wet nails drying the natural way, while feet were propped up and hands were draped over chairs safely out of harm's way. Every girl sipped at her butterbeer as they talked.

"Parvati and Padma, who are you going with?" Hermione asked, beginning to feel quite contented.

The twins answered in unison, "Dean and Seamus." Parvati glanced at her sister and teased, "Padma's liked Seamus for ages, she's just been too shy to ask him out. So, they didn't get together until almost the last minute."

"Oh, don't tease!" wailed Padma in what Hermione was sure was real distress.

"Who's your date, Susan?" Luna asked, distracting Parvti from teasing her twin.

Susan wriggled her eyebrows. "Neville Longbottom."

The girls burst into laughter, joined by Susan herself. "I know, I know," she said, grinning. "But you'd be surprised at young Neville these days, girls. I've been bringing him along for some time now, and he's a fast learner. Tonight could be the night."

A chorus of "Ooooohhhhhh," echoed through the room, and Hermione was surprised to find herself joining in. She was feeling much more relaxed than she had been earlier. She looked down at the bright red polish on her fingers and toes. That wasn't like her, but at the moment she thought it was pretty. She held up her hands to the light, admiring them, until she heard her name.

"Hermione's going with Harry, right, Hermione?" Lavender asked.

Hermione felt her face burn. "Yes, but we're-"

Ginny snorted. "You're not going to start on that just friends garbage again, are you, Hermione?"

Hermione frowned. "Well, yes, because that's exactly what---"

Ginny cut her off impatiently. "So, why is our fine upstanding Head Girl the proud new owner of a wild woman belly ring?"

The other girls shrieked and laughed, and bombarded Hermione with choruses of "let's see!" With a death glare at Ginny, Hermione opened the fold of her robe and showed them the small gold stud pierced into the rim of her navel.

"I just thought it was…well, piratey," Hermione mumbled, trying to shrug off their teasing. She was a bit shy about it, but part of her found it very gratifying that the other girls were impressed.

"Oy, that's right, "Ginny said, "It's just `cause of the costume. Nothing else making our Head Girl feel wild is there?"

"No, of course not!" Hermione denied feebly.

Lavender piped up, "Because you and Harry are just friends?" she asked in an exaggeratedly skeptical voice.

"Yes, of course!"

Ginny pulled out her wand and finished drying her nails with a quick swish. "Girls, I ask you," she said to the room at large, "are these the kinds of thing a girl gets to go out with a bloke who is just a friend?" She dove under the bed and pulled out a box.

Hermione gasped. "Oh, no, Ginny, don't-"

Ginny reached into the box. "We have…the push-up bra!"

She was greeted by a chorus of giggles and oohs. She pulled out the next item.

"The satin thong!"

The girls applauded and laughed some more. Hermione clapped her hands over her face. She couldn't look. She was both laughing and red with embarrassment.

"The garter belt!" Ginny tossed it in the air and it landed back on top of her head. Hermione giggled at the sight of Ginny with a garter belt hanging in her hair.

"The silk stockings!" Ginny twirled them around, and Hermione leaned back in her chair in a fit of laughter. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed this hard.

"And finally, for a date with just a friend…." Ginny reached into the box and pulled out… "…the fuck-me boots!" The girls squealed and cheered and clapped.

"Damn!" Susan shook her hand like it had been burned. "You're going to look totally hot, Hermione. He might just be a friend, but that doesn't mean you can't get a little action from him! That's how Neville and I started!"

Hermione knew her face was blazing red, so to cover it she took another drink of her butterbeer. That emptied it, so Luna gently took it from her and filled it for her. Hermione was fairly sure it wasn't just butterbeer they were drinking, and for a moment debated whether she should say anything. She was Head Girl, after all. Then she shook her head and decided she could use some more of whatever it was the girls had spiked it with, so she should probably just keep quiet.

Hermione was grateful that the conversation turned to Parvati and Dean so the attention shifted away from her. She couldn't help but notice that these girls all seemed to have plans for a lot of intense sexual activity this evening. She frowned, wondering if, as Head Girl, she should say something about that. Then she shook her head and took another drink. If she said anything, it would only be out of jealousy. If they were lucky enough to have boyfriends, good for them. And for once in her life, she didn't feel like wearing the Head Girl hat tonight.

In the next hour, Hermione and the others laughed and giggled as they tried out different hairstyles, swapped shoes, searched for just the right jewelry, and doused their bodies in perfumes until it was hard to breathe. Finally, it was time for the very last step, the donning of the costumes.

It seemed almost ceremonial to Hermione as the first of the actual costume pieces went on over the carefully arranged bras, panties, garters, and even shoes. In a way, she thought dreamily, it was almost a ritual, the females dressing each other for the ancient rites of passage….her thoughts became steamy as she thought about going through those rites of passage with her date.

"So, Hermione," Padma asked as she straightened the bangles across her waist, "who exactly is Grace O'Malley?"

"Oh, she was an amazing person!" Hermione said, pleased that someone had asked. "She's even recorded in Muggle history, though they don't know she was a witch, of course."

"So, I take it she was some kind of pirate?" Padma said, cocking one dark eyebrow.

"Yes. Well, at first she was a businesswoman; she ran her family's shipping business, and she only pirated on the side. But the English commandeered all their assets and gave away their lands, so out of revenge she took to the seas and started raiding English ships," Hermione said breathlessly, as her enthusiasm grew. "She was their queen, she had over two hundred men following her, until Queen Elizabeth had to negotiate with her face to face, she was causing them so much trouble."

"Wow, that's a great story," Padma said. "Of course, if she dressed like this, it's no wonder two hundred men followed her. You may find yourself with that many following you tonight!"

Hermione's costume was finally complete, boots and all. She stood in front of the mirror and tried to look at herself critically, but found that her critical skills were less than they should be at the moment. She had to admit that she did look pretty sexy, with her hair done in a windswept style like she had just come from the bow of a ship, her nails and lips a deep, dark red, and her bare midriff bordered by satin and leather. Maybe Harry would think so, too, she thought, and she giggled to herself. Then she stopped herself, frowning. She'd been giggling a lot tonight. She never giggled. Then she shrugged, figuring it must be the excitement of the evening. She walked carefully over to her nightstand; her boots had three-inch spike heels, and they were taking some getting used to. She stood and sipped her butterbeer while she watched the other girls finish.

"Who are you supposed to be, Susan?" she asked. Susan was wearing a form fitting, floor length silver dress, with heels every bit as high as Hermione's own. Her auburn hair had been changed to a vivid platinum blonde, and there was a new mole over her lip. The slit in the skirt of the dress reached up nearly to her hip.

"Marilyn Monroe," Susan answered. "I figured she was totally sexy, and she was a full-figured girl like me, so I thought it would work."

"It works," Hermione assured her. "I think you're the only one of us who could really fill up, er, I mean, fill out that dress."

"Who's Marilyn Monroe?" Ginny asked curiously. Hermione and Susan burst into laughter. Things seemed funnier than usual tonight.

"She was a Muggle actress in the 50's," Hermione explained, taking another sip of her butterbeer. "A total sex symbol." She looked around again as she stood to fill her glass. Parvati and Padma were dressed in matching belly-dancer costumes, with gold chains around their bare midriffs and layers of gauzy jewel-colored material floating around them. Only their kohl-lined eyes could be seen clearly behind their veils. They looked exotic and mysterious, and Hermione smiled wryly, thinking that while she herself might achieve sexy, she was pretty sure exotic and mysterious were beyond her.

Ginny's costume was similar to the Patils' in theme; she wore emerald green harem pants and a short, emerald green gauzy blouse. The pants were slit up each side, showing a long length of creamy thigh, and the shirt left her well-toned abdomen entirely bare. Hermione noticed that she had placed an emerald in her navel, and looked at it jealously. It was the perfect touch to Ginny's costume, but it also matched Harry's eyes when they had burned that hot green after he had kissed her. Hermione looked away for a moment, unwilling to remember that he must have once looked at Ginny like that, too.

The most magical costume had to be Luna's. Luna seemed just to be wrapped around in gauzy sparkly material, so fine that it could barely be seen. She seemed to be walking in mist and glitter, and while on the one hand, it left little to the imagination, on the other hand, it teased, leaving nothing bare when you tried to look at it. Except Luna's legs, they were bare, and Hermione thought jealously that Luna probably had the most beautiful legs she had ever seen. They were long and muscular, making Hermione think Luna might have been a ballet dancer when she was younger.

"Are you a fairy, Luna?" Hermione asked. "Or a nymph?"

"Yes," Luna answered dreamily. "An air nymph, that rides the wind."

"Well, girls, it's ten of seven," Susan announced. "Are we ready?"

Hermione took one last glace at herself, and wasn't entirely displeased with the effect. Ginny came up and stood behind her. "You'll knock him dead, Hermione, even if he is just a friend."

Hermione nodded gratefully. Then she turned to Susan and the other girls and grinned. "Ready as I'll ever be. Let's go."

*****************************************

Harry raced up to the shower and stepped into it quickly. It would only take him a few minutes to get ready, but he was all sweaty from helping the band lift heavy equipment and then place the spells on everything so that it would be loud enough. The Great Hall looked amazing, he thought, with reluctant respect for Ginny. She had done a great job.

Ten minutes later he was in his room, dried off, trying to figure out how to strap the damn dagger to his side. He had decided not to shave, because he was, after all, a pirate. He thought some evening shadow would enhance the look. The other men in his room were already dressed, and Harry noticed that Dean and Seamus, at least, had made a dent in a bottle of firewhiskey.

"What're you lot supposed to be?" Harry asked. The others were all wearing robes, unlike Harry, who was clad in black trouser, tall black boots, and a white shirt. The red sash and leather baldric for the dagger were supposed to complete his costume, but they were still lying on the bed.

"Merlin," said Seamus.

"Gandalf," said Dean, who was clad in shining white robes.

"Merlin," said Neville, whose robes were a resplendent violet, as opposed to Seamus' royal blue ones.

"Ethelred the Ever-Ready," said Ron, who looked exactly like Neville, Seamus, and Dean, though in robes of maroon. "Bloke who lived about seven hundred years ago and liked to curse everyone he saw."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Really romantic, Ron."

"So, who're you, then, Harry?" Neville asked, eyeing his pirate costume doubtfully.

"Donal O'Flaherty," Harry answered promptly. The others stared at him. Harry grinned. "He was a wealthy Irish wizard, he owned about a trillion ships, and his wife was a pirate queen. I heard he had a really bad temper, too, though," he said thoughtfully, eyeing Ron.

"That's nothing like us, right, mate?" Ron said, grinning mischievously.

"Right," Harry said, punching Ron in the shoulder.

Seamus carefully stashed his bottle of firewhiskey in his robe pocket. "Ready to go then, chaps?"

Harry took a deep breath. He hoped Hermione wasn't going to keep her distance tonight like she had the past few days. He just wanted things to be right between them, so he wasn't going to think about that kiss by the lake any more. Especially since these pirate trousers were a little too tight to allow him to entertain such thought in comfort. Anyway, they were going as friends.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he said, strapping on his dagger, and the men made their way down to the common room to wait for their dates.

Harry's eyes grew round as their dates started to descend the girls' staircase one at a time. He almost didn't recognize Susan Bones with that pale hair. To a man, their mouths fell open, as their eyes ran up and down her body, from the long expanse of leg to the generous bosom that was nearly spilling out of the shimmering bodice. She approached the group, and next to Harry Neville swayed on the spot.

Harry glanced at him. Neville looked both terrified and starving. Harry looked back at Susan. She had a smug smile on her face, and Harry knew she knew exactly how she was affecting Neville. Harry grinned and slapped Neville on the back. Neville seemed to come out of a trance, for he stepped forward, stumbling a bit on his own feet, and took Susan's hand. Her glossy fingernails shone in the firelight.

Lavender came down next, dressed as a cheerleader, and Harry found himself wondering before he could stop himself if she was wearing anything under that tiny skirt. Ginny joined her, looking both exotic and mischievous in her dark green harem costume, and the two girls waved goodbye as they headed toward the portrait hole. Harry watched Ginny go, and felt a flicker of both anger and desire, and was pleased to note how quickly both of those feelings passed.

The Patil twins were next, in their belly-dancing outfits, with the chains draped over their hips clinking gently as they walked. Seamus and Dean gave each other a high-five before stepping forward to offer their arms to their ladies.

Then Luna descended the staircase, and it was as though she simply floated. Her feet were bare, her hair was loose and free, and she almost seemed to be nude, except for the whisps of gossamer which covered her shapely body. Harry glanced over at Ron, whose eyes seemed to have glazed over.

Ron swallowed audibly. "Hi-" He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hi, Luna," he said, apparently relieved that his voice had worked this time. "You look…God, you're amazing!"

Luna gave him a radiant smile and laid her hand on his cheek. Harry looked way and returned his gaze to the stairs, but was totally unprepared for the sight that greeted his eyes. Hermione was coming down the steps, but it was Hermione as he had never seen her. If she had been a pirate queen, she would have had no trouble getting two hundred men to follow her, he thought. She wore a white linen shirt much like his, except that hers was low cut and off the shoulder, showing a great deal of her graceful shoulders and the swell of her bosom. The shirt had sleeves, long, flowing ones, but it had no middle. It seemed to cut off directly under her breasts, where it was bordered by a red silk sash that seemed to push her breasts up.

God, what was wrong with him? He wasn't supposed to be looking at Hermione's breasts. Hermione was supposed to be his friend, she wasn't even supposed to have breasts. He shook his head as he realized dimly that that thought made no sense, and his eyes continued to take her in as though they had a will of their own. She wore a black skirt that was slung low, very low, on her hips, and was topped by another red silk sash, and she had a golden stud in her navel. Her leather baldric hung across the red silk, the sword hanging parallel to her leg, and the contrast of the images-red silk, white linen, black leather, and smooth pale skin-made Harry sway much as Neville had. His mouth went dry, then it started to water.

But there was more. Oh, Merlin, was she trying to kill him? The skirt was drawn up high on one side, so high that he could see a garter peeking out from under it. And she was wearing boots. His knees buckled, and Ron, without taking his eyes off Hermione, either, reached out and grabbed his elbow before he fell. These were the most incredible boots Harry had ever seen. They hugged her legs all the way up past her knees, and they had these thin spiky heels. And they went all the way up her thighs…

Harry's eyes flicked to her face, and he knew he must look like his mates had looked moments before. Terrified, but starving. That was how he felt. He met Hermione's eyes, and didn't see any of the shyness or self-consciousness he had expected. Instead he saw red lips, wild hair, and a challenging expression. She was totally confident of her power. Sweet Merlin, where had this pirate queen come from?

Neville reached out and gave him a small shove, and he stumbled forward. Hermione watched him as he walked toward her, and she glanced up and down his body the way he had done to her a minute ago. Then she licked her lips, and Harry felt himself start to tremble. Without a word, because he couldn't think of any, his head was completely empty, he held out an arm to her. She laced her hand through it and clung to it, and Harry saw that her nails were shiny and bright red. He ran his other hand through his hair, making his bandana go a bit crooked, to relieve some of the tension. It didn't work.

Hermione glanced up at Harry through her very thick dark lashes. He looked amazing, and she didn't miss that those tight trousers didn't hide anything. Her fingers itched to caress his cheeks where she noticed he hadn't shaved, and she promised herself she would later. She felt confident, uninhibited, and full of her own power. She wondered briefly what had been in that butterbeer she had been drinking, but even if her powers of logic weren't what they should be, her instincts suddenly seemed painfully sharp. A woman would have to be pretty stupid not to see the lust in Harry's eyes, and Hermione was not a stupid woman. She knew desire when she saw it, and it was directed at her.

Promptly at seven, they made their way into the Great Hall. It looked like the Decorating Committee had brought the Forbidden Forest inside the castle; there were trees with vibrantly colored leaves, clearings with tables set in them and hundreds of fairy lights dancing around the room. Tables of snacks and punch were tucked discreetly into corners, and Harry noticed Seamus making his way toward one punch bowl while drawing his bottle out of his pocket. Harry made a note of it; he wasn't sure when he might need a drink of something stronger than punch. This evening was turning out to be as tense as he had feared, but for entirely different reasons.

The band was set up on a stage that was transfigured to look like a large tree stump. As soon as most of the students had wandered into the Great Hall, the lead singer took the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "on behalf of the band, I'd like to welcome you to the Seven Hundred Eighty Seventh annual Fall Ball. Hogwarts hasn't done this for a while, so it's great to see the tradition being renewed. Speaking of tradition, let's have the Head Boy and Head Girl out on the floor to start the dancing. Ms. Granger and Mr. MacMillan, please lead your dates to the floor. This one's for you."

Hermione walked languidly toward the dance floor holding Harry's hand. Harry found himself watching the way her hips moved when she walked…surely she didn't always have that sexy walk? Maybe he just couldn't see it under all those robes and books…

The music started and Hermione turned toward Harry. He was afraid to move, afraid to touch her. He knew it would be a bad idea, he wasn't sure he could control himself if he touched her. But he couldn't refuse to dance with her. Shakily he stepped forward and put one hand on her waist. Which was bare. The bottom of his hand brushed silk and leather, and it sent an electric shock through him. Hermione draped one arm around his neck and stepped even closer. The band was playing some slow song about friends who danced a slow dance. Harry took Hermione's other hand and they revolved slowly in a circle.

Hermione knew that Harry was getting flustered, and she loved it. Why had she never known about this power, about how it felt to make a man respond to her as a woman? His hand on her midriff was trembling, and he kept looking down at her breasts, then looking away again as he realized what he was doing. Hermione moved even closer, and she could feel that he was getting hard just standing by her. An unfamiliar tingle thrummed through her body, an electric excitement, and she wanted to kiss him again, hot and wet, the way they had that night at the lake.

She knew she was probably slightly intoxicated on whatever they had been drinking in the dorm room, but at the moment, she considered that a good thing. She needed the extra courage, because there were things she wanted from this night, and she might not be brave enough to go after them otherwise. The singer invited all prefects and their dates to join the Head Boy and Girl on the dance floor, but they barely impacted the small world she inhabited with Harry. She smiled when she realized they hadn't even spoken yet.

Harry smiled down at her. "You look great tonight, Hermione. I about fell over."

"Thanks," she smiled and licked her lips again. Harry's green eyes blazed. "You look great, too. Someone must have told you about my costume."

"Someone told me you were going as Grace O'Malley," he admitted, "but I had no idea…" He shook his head as though to clear it.

"And are you Donal O'Flaherty, then?" Hermione asked, gazing into his eyes.

"Yeah," Harry whispered.

Hermione pulled his head down closer to hers, and whispered in his ear. "Grace's true love?" She felt Harry shiver when her breath hit his ear. Feeling daring, she laid a gentle kiss on the sensitive skin next to his ear.

"Yeah, I-" he began, but he was cut off by a loud commotion coming from behind him. He and Hermione spun around in time to see Ron make a flying leap at Malfoy.

"Keep your filthy hands off my sister!" Ron bellowed as he took Malfoy down. The two of them rolled around on the floor, taking punches at each other, grunting as a few landed. Hagrid lumbered up to them and hauled them by their collars up from the floor. Both Ron and Malfoy were quite tall, but Hagrid had them dangling inches above the floor.

"What's the problem, you two?" Hagrid asked firmly.

"He had his hands on my sister!" Ron yelled, twisting and flailing to try to get at Malfoy.

"She's my date, you bloody moron! I'm allowed to dance with her!" Malfoy snarled, his pale face pink with exertion and anger.

"That true, Ginny? This idiot here is your date?" Hagrid looked sternly down at Ginny, and Harry noticed everyone in the hall was holding their breath. Ginny nodded slowly. Gasps and whispers filled the room.

Even Hagrid shook his head in disgust and Ginny's jaw went up. He dropped Malfoy at Ginny's feet in a crumpled pile. "Don't know why you want to go dating this scum for, Ginny, but that's your business. No, Ron," Hagrid interrupted as Ron started to object, "she'll come to her senses soon enough, but until then, it's her choice, not yours."

He dropped Ron, too, and stepped in between the boys as they made to have another go at each other. "Luna, take this idiot off, and Ginny, you keep yours out of his way. Go on now. I'll be watchin' yeh."

The band had stopped playing when the fight broke out, but now the lead singer invited everyone to the dance floor and a fast song started. Harry noticed that there were very few of the teachers present, he could only see Hagrid and Madame Maxime dancing under a giant oak in the corner. If there were more, he couldn't see them.

Harry and Hermione were left standing awkwardly in the middle of the enthusiastically dancing students, so Harry grabbed her hand and led her off the floor. They found a table and sat down, but as soon as they did, Neville and Susan joined them. Hermione groaned inwardly. She hadn't been finished talking to Harry, and she'd been hoping they could have some time to talk. But it was a night for friends, too, she reminded herself, and the four of them sat and visited through the next several songs.

"Excuse me, please?" Hermione said after watching the dancers for quite a while. She made her way out of the Great Hall and to the women's restroom. After a bit she freshened her lipstick and walked back into the Hall, but her table was at the other end, and the forest decorations were so lifelike she thought it would be nice to walk through the woods, even if they were only pretend.

She was wandering over remarkably realistic ground, which was no small feat in her pirate boots, when she heard noises coming from farther into the pretend forest. It took her a minute to be sure, but she wasn't stupid. Ginny had told her there would be nooks and crannies to go to if people wanted to be alone. She must be walking by one of those. The sounds made her embarrassed, but also sparked a yearning inside her. She sighed and continued in the direction she thought was away from the couple, but she turned out to be wrong. She came round a tree and there they were. It was dark in the pretend forest, but in the dim light she could see that it must be Draco and Ginny. Ginny's harem pants were in a bundle on the floor, and Draco's robe was up around his waist. Ginny was on top of him, sliding up and down on his penis, and Draco's hands gripped her thighs, leaving red marks on the white skin. Her head was thrown back, and her long hair swayed back and forth as she rode Draco.

Hermione moaned silently, utterly aroused by what she was watching. She thought of Harry and she knew she wanted Harry to be touching her like that. She wanted to be doing with him what Ginny and Draco were doing, to feel him touching her, to have him inside her. It would be worth it, she swore it. She and Harry could be friends and lovers. It had to be worth it because right now she wanted him so badly she would risk anything.

Draco rose up under Ginny and flipped her onto the ground beneath them. Hermione could see the bruises that Ron had given him when the torchlight hit his face. He positioned himself between her legs and rammed into her. Ginny's legs came around his waist as he thrust over and over. Hermione crept back the way she came, finally finding her way to the refreshment table. She felt hot, flushed all over, and she downed a glass of punch in one breath. She filled up another one, then carefully made her way back to her table, gathering her courage to talk to Harry.

But, to her disappointment, when she returned to the table, Harry was no longer there. She joined Dean, Seamus, and the Patils, who were taking a break from dancing.

"I think Harry went to look for you, Hermione," Parvati said, leaning forward to be heard over the music. Hermione noticed Dean looking down Parvati's low-cut blouse as she leaned, and out of the corner of her eye, she was sure Seamus had his hand under Padma's skirt. She took a deep breath and tried not to squirm.

"Did he?" Hermione said. "I didn't know I was gone that long." She could feel her face flushing; she knew what had delayed her return.

Padma glanced over at her. "You weren't gone that long, Hermione, only one song. But I think it was too long for Harry." She gave her a meaningful look.

"You do?" Hermione said, trying not to sound too hopeful. Parvati and Padma exchanged glances.

"Yes, Hermione," Padma said seriously. Or, as seriously as she could with Seamus rubbing her thigh. "I think he's liked you for a long time, even if he's denied it."

"You do?" Hermione repeated stupidly. At that moment, the fast song came to an end and couples started wandering away from the dance floor. Hermione looked around for Harry; she didn't know what had gotten into her, but she was getting truly desperate to find him.

The rhythmic heartbeat of a slow song began, and the Patils stood to lead their dates back onto the dance floor. Hermione watched after them enviously and took another sip of her punch, but as she set her glass down, he was suddenly there. He was beside her, his hand held out for hers, and as she looked up at him he seemed stronger, bigger, and somehow darker than she had ever seen him. Nervously she smiled and put her hand in his. She was shaking now, but his smile calmed her some, and she followed him willingly as he gently lifted her from her chair and led her out to dance.

Harry looked down into her dark brown eyes as he drew her to him. They shone in the torchlight, and he wondered what she was thinking. He would have given anything to know. He placed his hands on the soft skin of her bare midriff and wondered if he was too rough, too calloused for someone so slender and smooth. He didn't know how to treat someone so precious, and he didn't want to hurt her. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself close.

Harry swallowed hard, but slid his hands around to her back and held her close, so that the dance was little more than a swaying embrace. All around him students danced with their hands on each other's rear ends, up under blouses and skirts, and nobody seemed to mind. He wondered what Hermione would do if he slid a hand up her bare side to cup her breast. Even as he thought it, he felt his erection grow harder. He'd been half aroused all evening, but being close to Hermione like this was going to kill him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, his sensible voice reminded him that he stood to lose everything. Hermione's respect, Hermione's friendship, those things that made his life worth living. But that voice sounded strangely muffled from behind several glasses of Seamus' punch and the hot, vivid memories of that kiss by the lake. And, he may have been reading it wrong, it may have just been wistful thinking, but it was starting to seem to him that Hermione's sensible voice, usually so insistent, was being very quiet tonight.

Harry bent his head to where Hermione's head rested on his chest. He took a deep breath, and ignoring the knot in his stomach and the insistent pressure of his erection against the fabric of his trousers, he spoke low in Hermione's ear.

"Hermione?"

Hermione shivered, as she felt, rather than heard, his low voice vibrate inside her. She raised her head and looked up at him. She was slightly dizzy, in part, she knew, from what she had drunk, but mostly just from being so close to him, the smell and feel of him. He made her head spin. Images of Ginny and Draco flashed through her mind, and her face flushed again. She thought she was being very brave not to look away from him, though she still hadn't gotten up enough courage to tell him what she was really thinking.

Harry felt his face flush, too. Hermione's skin had grown hot where he touched her, and for a moment he couldn't think of anything but how she felt under his hands. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to have her, not just under his hands, but under him.

She was still looking at him. He had to find a way to say this without scaring her away, without trespassing on their friendship. "Do you remember the other night when I kissed you?"

Hermione drew in a breath and then clenched her teeth against a moan. God, yes, she remembered. She hadn't been able to think of anything else for two days. Praying desperately that he wasn't about to say he was sorry for that, or that he regretted it, she nodded.

"I just…well, I mean…are you sorry we did that?" Harry stammered, feeling like an idiot. He didn't know how to talk about this. He was getting it all wrong. She was going to be angry or exasperated, she was going to tell him never to touch her again. He was going to ruin everything, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

Hermione took another deep breath, and to his amazement, she shook her head.

Harry exhaled on a laugh of relief. "You're not? You're not sorry?"

"No," Hermione murmured. "I'm not sorry. Are you?"

"No," Harry said, grinning down at her. In an instant he had gone from desperate to euphoric. She wasn't sorry he had kissed her. She wasn't mad at him, it was all right.

Hermione bit her lip, then said very quickly, before she could talk herself out of it, "Would you like to do it again?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn't know what to say. Hermione, his best friend and his pirate queen, had just asked him to kiss her. She was looking at him uncertainly now, as though afraid he was going to refuse. As if he could.

He bent his head and opened his mouth slightly and touched his lips to hers. She shivered and leaned in closer to him, opening her mouth beneath his. For a moment they were still, unable to believe this was really happening. Then Hermione opened her mouth slightly wider and began to move her lips under Harry's. He returned her kiss, and they melted together, their lips wet and slick, their mouths fervent and hot. Harry grasped her hips and pulled her as close as he could, pressing his arousal into her, seeking her heat, and continuing to kiss her mouth. She was so sweet and hot, his head spun, and he felt like he could kiss her forever and never get enough.

They went on kissing, swaying to music they were longer aware of hearing. Hermione's breath was coming faster, and she felt hungry, like she would starve if she didn't keep kissing him. But even as her arousal built, so did her frustration. The kissing satisfied its own desire, but it built more, too. She needed more from him, more of him.

As though he was reading her mind, Harry's hand started to stroke her, moving up from her hip over the dip of her slender, bare waist, then up to her ribs. He hesitated, though he didn't stop kissing her, and while his mouth caressed hers, she dropped a hand to cover his. Deliberately she pulled his hand up and pressed it against her breast, then moaned out loud at the feel of his hand on her.

Harry's knees buckled again, and in the moment he caught himself, he realized that they were still on the dance floor. Not that anyone was paying any attention to them; they were all engaged in similar activities. But he wasn't going to embarrass Hermione this way, by groping her in front of all these people. He dropped his hand from her breast and stepped back from her.

Hermione blinked, aware only that Harry had moved away from her, that his hands were no longer on her. He gently took her hand and pulled her away, and she suddenly realized that they were in the middle of the dance floor. She clapped one hand over her mouth and looked up at Harry, terribly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry!" she gasped. "I was… I mean, I forgot!"

Harry looked at her over his shoulder as he led her away from the students now engaging in a fast dance. "I did, too," he said, grinning wickedly, and Hermione laughed. "C'mon."

For a disappointed moment, Hermione thought he was leading her back to their table, where she could see past Harry to where Luna was sitting on Ron's lap, under the pretend sycamore tree. Its red leaves were swaying as though with an unfelt breeze. Harry seemed to see them, too, because he stopped dead in his tracks.

"No, I don't think we'll go there," he said in a strange voice.

"Why?" Hermione asked. But in the next second she saw why. Luna wasn't exactly sitting on Ron's lap as Hermione had assumed. Ron was on the chair and Luna was straddling him. Ron's big hands were lost under the swath of material, and Hermione knew they were on her breasts, and Luna was bouncing up and down on top of Ron. Even during sex, her head thrown back and her eyes closed, she somehow looked dreamy and other worldly. Hermione shook her head, realizing she was staring.

"Honestly," she muttered in exasperation. "They could at least go into the woods!'' Swiftly she pulled out her wand, and after watching for one more moment, she waved it and cast a cloaking charm around Ron and Luna. People could still stumble upon them, but they wouldn't be right out there for everyone to see.

She turned to Harry, who was also shaking his head. She wondered if he was as aroused by the sight of their friends making love as she was. She frowned; that was something she hadn't known about herself, that watching other people could make her so hot. She had certainly learned the lesson tonight, she thought wryly. She would have to give it some thought. She looked at Harry. Later. She would think about it later.

"C'mon," Harry said again, and pulled her away toward the punch table. He carefully poured her a glass of punch; it wasn't easy considering his hands were shaking. He wanted to be off somewhere doing with Hermione what Ron was doing with Luna. He had a sudden searing vision of Hermione wearing nothing but those boots, and he choked on his punch.

Hermione slapped him on the back and gave him an amused look. Was he that transparent? He grinned crookedly. Probably. At least, to Hermione, who knew him better than he knew himself. He wanted to lead her off into the trees, lay her down on the ground, and thrust himself inside her. But he couldn't yet. It wouldn't be…he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, looking for the word. He guessed it wouldn't be honorable.

"Hermione," he said carefully, "what we just saw…" He was puzzled to see Hermione's cheeks go bright pink, but she didn't say anything.

"I was wondering if…well…" he took a deep breath, wishing he could just let this go, he didn't want to talk about this. "Does it bother you to know he's in there doing that with her?"

Hermione stared at him blankly. "Who?"

Harry scowled. "Ron. With Luna. I mean, you guys just broke up, and he…" He broke off with a shrug.

"Oh!" Hermione said, realization dawning. "Does it bother me that Ron's back there shagging Luna when he never seemed to want to shag me, you mean?"

"Er…yeah," Harry said, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching for her.

Hermione shook her head slowly. "No," she said thoughtfully. "Not like that, anyway. It still hurts my pride a little, but not my heart. I don't wish for him back."

Harry frowned. "Why does it hurt your pride?"

Hermione shrugged and took a sip of her punch. "No girl likes to think she's that easy to get over," she said. "A decent boyfriend would at least pine and sulk for a few weeks before he shags someone else."

"Oh, all right," Harry said, relieved. He took a step closer to her. "You don't want him?"

Hermione looked directly into his eyes and nearly swooned at the fire she saw blazing there. She put down her glass. "No, Harry, I don't want him."

"Who do you want?" Harry said, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. He couldn't wait any more, he couldn't be patient or considerate any more. He had to hear her say it.

Hermione felt thrills of heat run through her body when he grabbed her roughly like that. She felt powerful again, so, with the lift of an eyebrow she laid down a dare. "I want you, Harry. What are you going to do about it?"

Harry's jaw dropped open. She wanted him. She had that look on her face again, that sexy, challenging, pirate queen look. His big hands squeezed her slender shoulders, and he yanked her to him and kissed her hard.

Abruptly he pulled back. "Let's go for a walk, all right?"

Hermione nodded breathlessly, and Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the dance floor into the woods. Quickly, Hermione grabbed up their glasses of punch and allowed him to lead her away. After a little while she noticed that they were walking quite far; surely the Great Hall had been magically expanded, because they must be far outside its normal borders now.

"Where are we going, Harry?" she asked eventually.

Harry glanced back at her, his green eyes blazing. "It's right up here. You'll see."

They had finally come to the edge of the magical woods. Hermione could see the stone walls in the shadows beneath the trees. But Harry kept walking, right up to the wall, and Hermione was overwhelmed with a vision of him taking her right there, right up against that wall. She moaned, and Harry turned back to her.

"All right, Hermione?" he asked.

"Please hurry, Harry," Hermione whispered, her breath coming fast in reaction to the vivid fantasy that had just rocked her. Harry took out his wand and tapped the wall, and to her surprise, a narrow doorway opened in it. Harry stepped through it, pulling her behind. Hermione walked in, then gasped at the sight before her.

It was their spot by the lake. The one with the rock where they had sat and talked so many times, where he had kissed her the other night. There was the lake, or a magical reproduction of it, and there was that tree with the golden leaves. There was even a warm breeze. Hermione lifted her face into the breeze, remembering her fantasies about standing there naked with someone. She looked up at Harry, her eyes wide with surprise and excitement.

He was looking at her uncertainly. "D'you like it?" he asked hesitantly. He flicked his wand toward the opening and it closed up seamlessly.

"Oh, Harry! It's wonderful! It's absolutely perfect!" Carefully she set down their punch and wrapped her arms around him. He grinned with relief and held her close. They stood like that for a moment, the music from the Great Hall now only a distant driving bass that echoed the beating of the blood in their veins. Harry pulled back and leaped up onto the flat surface of the rock in one smooth, athletic movement. He held out his hand to her.

"Would you like to dance?"

Hermione smiled. That was perfect. She held out her hand to him and he helped her up, then drew her into his arms again. His hands came to rest once more on the bare skin of her side, and he swayed back and forth to the far away music. Her body swayed with his, and for a moment they were content just to be close to each other.

Harry closed his eyes and leaned into Hermione, his calloused hands rubbing the bare skin. She had such soft, warm skin, he couldn't get enough of touching it. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her eyes were closed, and her head was tilted back so that her long hair cascaded down her back and brushed the tops of his hands. He shifted so that one hand splayed across her back, pressing her to him, and the other was free to close over her breast. God, she was so perfect, she fit his hand like she was made for him. Hermione's mouth opened on a gasp of pleasure, and something inside Harry snapped. He had waited too long, he couldn't wait any more.

Their mouths met and he plunged his tongue into hers. Hermione opened her mouth wide and met his tongue with hers, as his hand continued to squeeze her breast. She was gasping and shaking, every touch was making her burn and shiver at the same time, but still she wanted more. She pressed his hand over her breast, and he instinctively obeyed, squeezing her harder, almost roughly, through the linen of her low-cut shirt. With a harsh exclamation of frustration, he grasped the material at both shoulders and yanked it downward, tearing it clean off her body.

"Oh, God, Harry," Hermione murmured, aroused by the strength in his hands.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, hesitating, his hands hovering near her shoulders.

"No!" she laughed breathlessly. "Don't stop!" She unhooked the front clasp of her bra and freed her bare breasts, which spilled into Harry's waiting hands. He put his hands on both of them, rubbing her nipples, gently at first, then harder, pinching and squeezing them until she blindly grabbed his hips and pulled him to her, grinding her pelvis into his. Her hips seemed to have a life of their own, the more excited she became the harder they thrust against Harry's hips, and the more insistent the pressure between her legs became. She didn't know what to do but rub herself desperately against Harry while he continued to fondle and rub her breasts.

Frantically Hermione ripped his shirt out of his trousers and thrust her hands up under it. Then she pulled it off him, she had to see his chest, she had to touch it. God, he was so muscular and broad-shouldered. Once she got his shirt off, Harry dropped to his knees and yanked her to him, so that her breasts were level with his mouth. As though he were starving, he took one of her firm nipples into his mouth, sucking it and flicking it with his tongue. Hermione's knees buckled and she leaned against him, no longer supporting her weight on her own feet. Her knees clamped around his waist, and her head was thrown back in ecstasy. Little moans escaped her throat and Harry heard sounds that must have been coming from him, as well.

He suckled her until she thought she would die from the frustration of it. "Please, Harry," she gasped, "please…"

"What?" he asked fiercely. "Please what?"

She groaned, because he had stopped sucking her to speak. "Please, more, please…" She realized vaguely she wasn't being quite coherent, but she could only grab his hard shoulders and pull her to him. Harry shifted from his kneeling position and wrapped an arm around her, and she held onto him as the world started to shift. For a moment, everything spun, and he was the only thing that was real, and she clung to him as though her life depended on it.

"Are you sure, Hermione?" Harry asked. He was now lying on top of her, his erection pressing between her legs. She was still wearing her skirt and he his trousers, but she wanted him so badly she thought she would weep if he didn't do it now. "I won't be able to stop, I want you so bad, please don't make me stop…"

The last sentence was muffled as he buried his face between her breasts, then pulled one into his mouth again. She was thrusting against his chest, seeking some relief to this mounting tension, wanting to be closer to him, wanting what Ginny and Luna had gotten from their men tonight…

"No, don't stop, I'm sure, I'm sure, please…" She didn't know where she got the strength, but somehow she pushed him off her and stood up on legs that didn't want to hold her. She quickly untied her sash and baldric and flung them aside, then stripped off her skirt. She stood there in only her panties, garter belt, and tall leather boots.

Harry was already out of his boots and trousers, and he couldn't wait. He reached for Hermione before she could take the rest of her clothes off and laid her gently on the rock, which, she noticed wasn't hard and uncomfortable as one would expect. Then he clenched his fist around her panties and yanked down, ripping them off of her. Hermione cried out with the sheer lust of it.

"I can't wait, `Mione," Harry breathed desperately. "Please, I need you, please…" He was crawling over her body again, and he reached his hand down between her legs. She was hot and wet, and even though nobody had ever touched her there before, she wasn't embarrassed when she felt Harry's fingers press against her. Her body seemed to know what to do and she thrust her hips against his hand. That was what she wanted, what the ache and tension had been about, and she cried out as his fingers brought her to climax. It had only just begun when he thrust himself inside her, and she gasped, as pain and the most intense pleasure she had ever felt tore through her at the same time.

Harry was still for a moment, watching her face, but then his body took over. He had to get inside her, as deep as he could go, and with every thrust he rammed harder and harder. Hermione didn't have a chance to come down from the orgasm, each thrust stoked it even higher, until the pain was gone and she was shuddering, wrapped around Harry, every nerve screaming in pleasure so wild it was almost unbearable. Her ankles, still encased in her pirate boots, hooked around Harry's waist, and she used the leverage to thrust herself against him every time he plunged into her.

She could feel another orgasm building out of the aftershocks of the first one, and she thrust harder against Harry. This one was quick, too, and she sped up her rhythm even as Harry sped up his. He rammed into her so hard, filled her so completely, she knew she would always feel him, deep inside, everything inside her would always belong to him. With one last, violent thrust, they gasped each other's names, then collapsed in a tangle of sweaty limbs.

Harry rolled off Hermione, who reached out for him. He laid along side her and rested his head on her shoulder. He had never felt so good in his life, had not imagined that people could feel this good. Hermione's fingers absently stroked his hair, and he realized that his bandana and glasses had gotten lost somewhere along the way. They were alone in a dim, shadowy, quiet world of their own, and that was perfectly fine with him. If it were up to him they would never leave. They would never deal with N.E.W.T.'s or Voldemort or even Quidditch. They would stay in this magical clearing and make love day and night. He might even ask her to wear those boots again, he thought, grinning to himself.

The sensible voice, so conspicuously absent this evening, suggested that at some point they might have to deal with the relationship thing, the friend-and-lover thing, but he ruthlessly quashed it. They would deal with that when they had to, but not now. He closed his eyes, planted a gentle kiss on the swell of Hermione's breast, wrapped his arm around her waist, and drifted into sleep. Golden leaves from the tree above fluttered down upon them, covering them as though with a blanket, keeping them warm in the night.

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