Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
Author's Note: The last part of this fic on the Yule Ball the way it should have been. Thank you, everyone, for reading and reviewing; I'm so glad you've enjoyed this fic so much!
For my dear Amethyst_J who got me started on this and for thephotoman- happy belated birthday, Jim!!
The Only Girl
The Way You Look Tonight
Part 3
They skirted around the dance floor, passing by Fred and George who appeared to have cornered Ludo Bagman although he managed to escape them quickly enough.
"I wonder what they're up to," Harry mused idly, more to say something than out of any real curiosity.
"Oh it's Fred and George; they'll be up to no good," Hermione responded distractedly, not as if she cared much but more as if she simply felt obligated to respond.
Harry glanced at her, wondering if she were still angry at Ron but found, to his relief, that her frown had cleared.
After getting a glass of lemonade, Harry automatically turned to return to where Ron was sitting but then stopped when he saw that Percy had sat down in the empty seat next to Ron and was no doubt being his usual pompous self, judging from the extremely grumpy expression on Ron's face.
"Let's go outside," Hermione suggested just before he opened his mouth to suggest the same thing and he agreed with alacrity, thankful to avoid another dose of Percy's company after spending all of dinner with him.
The front doors of the castle stood open and the fairy lights in the rose garden twinkled among the bushes, winding ornamental paths and large stone statues. Harry could hear the sound of splashing water, which he guessed was a fountain and people were sitting on carved benches scattered here and there.
"Dumbledore spared no efforts in decorating Hogwarts," Hermione commented.
Harry made a noncommittal sound, thankful for the darkness, as it concealed his sudden blush at the unwanted thought that he couldn't imagine a more romantic spot to walk in and that he was glad to be out here with Hermione. She was the only girl he'd really want to be out here in this romantic setting with… And then he mentally stopped his train of thought so quickly he should have left skid marks on his brain. He had no business thinking of romance and Hermione in the same sentence, let alone together like that!
They had set off on one of the winding paths through the bushes but had gone only a few steps when he heard a familiar voice, effectively distracting him.
"…don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."
It was, he decided, the first (and last, he was sure) time he would be relieved to hear Snape's unpleasant voice.
"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff's voice sounded on the verge of panic and hushed, as though he was equally anxious not to be overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months, I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it--"
"Then flee," Snape answered curtly. "Flee, I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."
And then before either Harry or Hermione could gather their wits, Snape and Karkaroff came around the corner, Snape blasting rose bushes apart with his wand, his expression as dour as ever. Squeals issued from many of the bushes as dark shapes emerged from them.
"Ten points from Hufflepuff, Fawcett!" Snape snarled as a girl Harry vaguely recognized ran past him. "And ten points from Ravenclaw, too, Stebbins!" as a boy ran after her. "And what are you doing here?" he snapped, seeing Harry and Hermione ahead. Karkaroff looked uneasy to see them there, his hand going nervously to his goatee and beginning to wind it around his finger.
"We were going for a walk, Professor," Hermione answered, her tone perfectly polite and as cold as a glacier.
Harry glanced at her admiringly, not for the first time struck with Hermione's quick thinking and ability to keep her calm, but slightly surprised at Hermione's cool tone when speaking to Snape. He knew Hermione didn't like Snape but she was never as virulent about her dislike as either he or Ron were; this open coolness was a bit unexpected.
"Keep walking, then!" Snape snarled and brushed past them, his black cloak billowing behind him as Karkaroff hurried after him.
"I wonder what's worrying Karkaroff," Hermione murmured under her breath. "It might be why he's been frowning all evening and Viktor did mention that Karkaroff has been more short-tempered than usual lately."
"And since when have he and Snape been on first-name terms?" Harry mused aloud, keeping his voice hushed as well.
They had reached a large stone reindeer, over which they could see a tall fountain, the water sparkling in the moonlight. The shadowy outlines of two unmistakably large people were visible on a stone bench, watching the water.
"Momen' I saw yeh, I knew," they heard Hagrid say, his voice oddly husky.
Both Harry and Hermione froze, Harry wondering with embarrassed dismay whether they were destined to keep overhearing odd conversations. This one in particular did not sound like one they should hear. Harry looked back up the path for an escape route only to see Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies half-hidden behind a rose bush, engaged in an activity that made Harry blush and then make a quick decision not to move. Listening to Hagrid while alone in the dark with Hermione was one thing; passing by Fleur and Roger when they were snogging enthusiastically was another thing entirely. This was uncomfortable enough; he saw no need to make it hellish and quickly ducked deeper into the shadows behind the reindeer, relieved when Hermione seemed to have the same thought and ducked down beside him.
Harry tried very hard not to be hyper-aware of how close she was to him, her arm brushing against his, the sound of her breathing suddenly sounding very loud in the quiet of the night. He stole a quick glance at her to see that her face almost seemed to glow in the dim moonlight and he couldn't help the fanciful thought that flitted through his brain that she looked angelic. Her lips were slightly parted and he didn't know if it was a trick of the odd play of moonlight and shadows but her lips seemed to be glistening. For one fleeting moment, his breath caught in his throat, his lungs simply ceased to function and all he could do was stare while part of him wondered what she would do if he simply kissed her…
Fortunately (for the preservation of their friendship) and unfortunately (for the part of his mind that was very preoccupied with his suddenly quickened heartbeat and this incredible urge to kiss her), Madame Maxime's low voice broke the silence with all the efficacy of a bucket of cold water as she purred, "What did you know, 'agrid?"
Harry was beginning to think that passing so close to Fleur and Roger might have been the smartest option after all but it was too late. If he could have, he would have plugged his ears and tried to make himself go temporarily deaf but that hardly seemed possible. Instead he tried to focus all his attention on a beetle crawling along the stone reindeer's back (he refused to focus his attention on Hermione again) but the beetle could not possibly have kept his interest enough to drown out Hagrid's next words, short of the beetle suddenly expanding to at least 10 times its current size and possibly beginning to tap dance on its back legs.
"I jus' knew… knew you were like me… was it yer mother or yer father?"
"I- I don't know what you mean, 'Agrid…" The purr was gone from Madame Maxime's voice, being replaced with a distinct note of wariness.
"It was my mother," Hagrid went on quietly. "She was one o' the las' ones in Britain. 'Course, I can' remember her too well… she left, see. When I was about three. She wasn' really the maternal sort. Well… it's not in their natures, is it? Dunno what happened to her… might be dead fer all I know."
Harry was aware of Hermione stiffening and sucking in a breath in surprise at Hagrid's first words but he was a bit slower to catch on to the implication until Hagrid mentioned his mother being one of the last ones in Britain and he guessed immediately. It wasn't that hard to figure out.
Madame Maxime was making a very creditable impression of one who had been turned to stone as Hagrid continued and Harry, in spite of himself, gave up on trying not to listen. He had never heard Hagrid talk about his childhood before.
"Me dad was broken-hearted when she wen'. Tiny little bloke, my dad was. By the time I was six, I could lift him up an' put him on top o' the dresser if he annoyed me. Used ter make him laugh…" Hagrid's deep voice broke and Harry felt a stab of sympathy and pity for Hagrid. "Dad raised me… but he died, o' course, jus' after I started school. Sorta had ter make me own way after that. Dumbledore was a real help, mind. Very kind ter me, he was…"
In some small corner of his mind, Harry thought, well, that explains part of Hagrid's incredible loyalty and devotion to Dumbledore.
Hagrid pulled out his large, spotted silk handkerchief and blew his nose heavily. "So… anyway… enough about me. What about you? Which side you got it on?"
Madame Maxime finally appeared to have recovered and stood up suddenly. "It is chilly," she announced, her voice about as cold as the wind from the Arctic tundra, "I think I will go in now."
Harry winced for Hagrid's sake.
"Eh?" Hagrid responded blankly. "No, don' go! I've-I've never met another one before!"
"Anuzzer what, precisely?" asked Madame Maxime, her tone even icier than before.
Don't answer that; don't answer it, Hagrid; please don't answer it; you really don't want to answer that… Harry mentally addressed Hagrid, gritting his teeth in a vain hope that Hagrid wouldn't answer.
But, of course, he did. He was too fundamentally honest not to.
"Another half-giant, o' course!"
"'Ow dare you!" Madame Maxime shrieked, her voice exploding through the night like a foghorn. Behind him, Harry was vaguely aware of hearing Fleur and Roger falling out of the rose bush. "I 'ave nevair been more insulted in my life! 'Alf-giant? Moi? I 'ave-I 'ave big bones!" And with that pronouncement, she stormed away, angrily pushing aside bushes as she went.
Leaving Hagrid to stare after her blankly for a long minute, before he stood up and strode away in the direction of his cabin.
Harry felt almost sick with pity for Hagrid and thoroughly ashamed of himself for having eavesdropped. "C'mon," he whispered to Hermione. "Let's go…"
Hermione looked up at him, her expression filled with the same mix of sympathy and guilt he was feeling and nodded silently, standing up straight.
"Did you know?" Harry whispered as they walked away from the stone reindeer. "About Hagrid being half-giant?"
"No," Hermione said softly, before she hesitated and then added, "Well, I didn't know exactly but I had sort of guessed it. I mean, what else could it be? He's too big to be fully human."
"I suppose." He paused and then asked, "What's the problem with giants? Why'd Madame Maxime throw such a tantrum when it's pretty obvious she's got to be half-giant too?"
"Oh Harry, you don't understand," Hermione half-sighed, not condescendingly but with warmth in her tone, as if Harry's inability to understand was endearing. "It's because wizards in general have a really strong prejudice against giants, sort of like they have for house-elves and even centaurs. I mean, it's true that giants are, well, violent and they've killed a lot so that makes people say they're just vicious by nature and like to kill. I rather think that it's more that they can't help it; giants aren't the brightest of creatures and so when they've been constantly hunted and harassed by humans, I think it's their instinct, like any animal really, to lash out in their own defense. It's only that, thanks to their size and strength, when they hit back, they can destroy and kill a lot of people really easily."
"Still…" Harry objected. "It's not like there's anything wrong with Hagrid."
"No, there isn't but it's understandable that Madame Maxime would lie about her giant blood. Wizards in general won't treat her well if they knew. I mean, all the giants in Britain were basically hunted out and killed by Aurors, although they were dying out anyway. There are supposed to be giants abroad though, hiding out in the mountains for the most part."
They had gotten back to the castle by now and made their way into the Great Hall, going over to join Ron, who was alone again, where Harry quickly filled Ron in under his breath of what they'd just overheard.
Ron's reaction to the news that Hagrid was a half-giant was, Harry supposed, typical of most wizards. A look of shock and something like horror crossed his face as he stared. "He's a- what?!" Ron hissed, keeping his voice low.
"What did you think he was?" Hermione asked, her voice a little sharp, telling Harry that Hermione hadn't quite forgiven Ron for his meanness earlier.
"I don't know. Blimey, no wonder he keeps it quiet. I always thought he'd got in the way of a bad Engorgement Charm when he was a kid or something. Didn't like to mention it."
Hermione rolled her eyes in skepticism at Ron's theory but refrained from saying anything.
"So what if Hagrid is a half-giant? He's still our friend," Harry spoke up defensively.
"Well, yeah, no one who really knows him will care 'cos they'll know he's not dangerous but- but half-giant… Harry, giants are- well, they're vicious. They just like killing people; everyone knows that."
Harry glanced at Hermione at this proof that what she had said was correct, to see the fleeting look of annoyance at Ron's belief in the stereotype.
They spent the rest of the evening talking more about giants and about the snippet of Snape's and Karkaroff's conversation which he and Hermione had overheard. Harry could see that Cho and Cedric spent the entire evening dancing together, noting it with a surprising indifference, given that only days, possibly even hours, ago, the sight of Cho and Cedric together would have made him want to kick something, hard.
The Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight and, after giving them a last round of applause, everyone started making their way into the Entrance Hall. Many people were heard expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer and Harry surprised himself by almost agreeing with them. It hadn't been all fun but it had been much more enjoyable than he might have expected, thanks to Hermione.
Out in the Entrance Hall, Krum paused to say, "Good night, Hermy-own," nodding at Ron and Harry, and Hermione smiled at him. "Good night, Viktor."
Ron's scowl was back after this exchange and he hurried up the marble staircase after throwing a last glower at Krum's departing back. Harry and Hermione followed but halfway up the staircase, Harry heard his name being called.
"Hey- Harry!"
It was Cedric Diggory; Cho was waiting for him in the Entrance Hall below.
"Yeah, hi," Harry said with a half-smile as Cedric ran up the stairs towards him.
Cedric looked a bit uncomfortable and Hermione took the hint quickly and left them alone, with a slight smile at Cedric and a brief touch of her hand on Harry's arm.
"Listen," Cedric began quietly as Hermione disappeared. "I owe you one for telling me about the dragons. You know that golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?"
"Yeah," Harry answered cautiously, wondering where Cedric was going with this.
"Well… take a bath, OK?"
Harry stared. "What?" What kind of hint was that?
"Take a bath, and- er- take the egg with you, and- er- just mull things over in the hot water. It'll help you think… trust me."
"Okay…" Harry answered, his skepticism clear in his tone and in his expression.
"Tell you what," Cedric said, "use the Prefects' bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's Pine-fresh. Gotta go… want to say goodnight--" He grinned at Harry.
"Thanks," Harry said quickly with a half-smile.
Cedric shrugged it off. "I owe you," he said dismissively and turned to go back down the stairs to where Cho was waiting.
Harry walked slowly up the staircase towards the Gryffindor Tower, frowning slightly as he tried to understand Cedric's vague hint. Take a bath? He couldn't think of any action that seemed less likely to yield answers about the infernal wailing the egg made when opened but, with a shrug, Harry decided as he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, that he may as well try it. It wasn't as if he had any other ideas.
He climbed into the Common Room to find Ron and Hermione having a blazing row and Harry guessed (correctly) that Ron had turned on Hermione the moment she entered the Common Room. They were standing ten feet apart and yelling at each other, Ron's face scarlet and Hermione flushed with anger as well.
"...You're fraternizing with the enemy, that's what you're doing!" Ron yelled just as Harry entered.
Hermione's mouth fell open as she gaped at Ron. "The enemy? Honestly, who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory? And it was only one dance!"
Ron chose to ignore what Harry privately thought was a good point Hermione made. "He's Karkaroff's student, from Durmstrang! He's one of them!" Ron made it sound as if all Durmstrang students were known criminals and Death Eaters. "He knows who you hang around with-he's just trying to get closer to Harry- get inside information on him- or get near enough to jinx him--"
Harry blinked, beginning to wish he had lingered more on the staircase, and utterly confused as to Ron's convoluted idea about Krum's possible motives in asking Hermione to dance. Surely Ron didn't think that the only reason Krum would want to dance with Hermione was because of her friendship with him. Harry didn't think that Krum could really fancy Hermione because he didn't know her but Harry didn't question that Krum thought Hermione was pretty and probably smart and well worth fancying. Frankly, he didn't think any bloke could do better than to fancy Hermione if she would like him back…
Hermione looked as if she had been slapped, a flicker of hurt passing over her expression in spite of her anger. "He hasn't asked me one single thing about Harry- not one!"
Harry opened his mouth to intercede; he hadn't been going to (getting in the middle of one of Ron and Hermione's rows was never pleasant) but the flash of hurt he had seen on Hermione's face tipped the scales.
But before he could speak, Ron attacked again with an entirely different tack. "Then he's hoping you'll help him find out what his egg means!"
"I'd never help him work out that egg!" Hermione shot back furiously. "Never! How could you say something like that-I want Harry to win the Tournament. Harry knows that. And anyway, since Harry was my date tonight and he was okay with my dancing with Krum, I don't see why you're being such a prat about it!"
"You let him kiss your hand!" From the tone of Ron's voice, he made it sound like Hermione and Krum had been snogging madly in the Great Hall or something.
The color in Hermione's cheeks deepened a little. "He was just being friendly! Harry didn't mind, did you, Harry?" she appealed to him.
He had minded, had minded a lot, but there was no way he was going to admit that now. "No, I didn't mind," he assured her and then turned to Ron. "She is right, you know, Ron," he began, a little cautiously, "you're being a bit…" he trailed off, not wanting to tell Ron he was being mean or irrational or even a right arse, and unable to think of some nicer way of putting it.
"Oh, of course, you'd side with Hermione!" Ron flared up at Harry with an Et tu Brute expression in his eyes. "Hermione, the know-it-all, who's always right!"
"Ron, you--" Harry began but Ron cut him off.
"Never mind. I'm going to bed," he bit out sharply, storming up the stairs to the Gryffindor boys' dormitory.
Harry turned to face Hermione almost reluctantly. "He- he didn't mean it, you know," he finally said, rather lamely. "He's just being-you know…" he made a vague gesture with one hand, although he didn't quite believe his own words.
"He's just being Ron," Hermione sighed, with an attempt at a smile that failed miserably.
"Yeah." Harry moved to stand closer to her, putting a hand on her arm in a rather awkward attempt to comfort her, for a moment wishing he dared hug her. He felt a quick stab of anger at Ron for hurting Hermione with his unjust accusations; no one should ever make Hermione have such a wounded look in her eyes… Accusing Hermione of disloyalty when Hermione had, in fact, been a more loyal friend than Ron had been before the First Task… For a moment, Harry wanted to cast that up to Ron but he had forgiven Ron and he was still too glad to be on speaking terms with Ron to bring it up again. "I'm sorry for what he said."
She paused, blinked, and then finally managed a slight smile. "It's okay. And thanks for trying to help."
He shrugged uncomfortably. "It was nothing."
"No, it meant a lot." She paused and then added with a soft smile, "Thanks for taking me to the Ball tonight, Harry. I had a good time."
"Me too," he admitted. "I think you're the only girl I could have gone with and had a good time."
She flushed a little and smiled again. Then she gave him a quick hug and disappeared up the stairs to the girls' dormitory before he could react or his brain could register anything other than the fleeting warmth of Hermione's body against his.
After a moment, he turned to go up the stairs to the boys' dormitory, mentally bracing himself in case Ron was still up for a confrontation. He was relieved to find that Ron had drawn the curtains closed around his bed in a clear sign that he didn't want to talk anymore and after changing into his pyjamas, Harry rolled into bed, drawing the curtains of his bed closed as well.
For a moment, he thought more about Cedric's hint to take a bath but that train of thought was quickly derailed by mental images from this evening.
Hermione as she'd looked in the Entrance Hall before the Ball… Hermione smiling at him over Percy's characteristically pompous conversation… Roger Davies' stupefied expression as he stared at Fleur. Dancing with Hermione… Hermione dancing with Krum… Hermione flushed with anger at Ron… Hermione as she'd looked outside in the moonlight…
It occurred to him that he couldn't really remember anything Cho had done that evening, could hardly remember what she'd been wearing, whereas his mind was filled with memories of Hermione as she had looked tonight.
He yawned, settling into bed and thought, sleepily, that maybe it would be okay to kiss Hermione, to become more than just friends…
It had been a nice evening, in spite of everything, because of Hermione… And Harry drifted off to sleep with a slight smile lingering on his lips.
~The End~
Note 2: Before you ask, yes, there is a sequel to this fic.