A Most Advantageous Match
Chapter 9: The Obligatory Ball
Hermione was restrained to her bed for some time longer than she would have wished, mostly because Harry had ordered the house-elves not to let her out of bed unnecessarily. He did visit her often, bringing her volumes from the library and completely ignoring her displeasure at being so confined. After several days of arguing, she gave up.
It was during one of her husband's frequent visits that she decided to question him on a matter that had been troubling her since her awakening.
"Harry, there's something I remember from being ill," she told him. "I don't know if I dreamed it or it really happened."
He flushed and fidgeted, and that alone might have confirmed her suspicions. "And what do you recall?"
Fighting a smile - for his discomfort was most amusing - she said, "I seem to remember you putting me in a cold bath, in order to rid me of a fever."
Harry nodded, looking at his hands. "Indeed, I…I did. I thought, for the sake of your health and your life, even, that there was no other option."
She did not to know what to make of his expression. There were equal parts guilt and remorse in his countenance, but she could not tell from his face what his reaction had been to her nakedness, nor could she recall how he'd looked then. The absence of answers was exceedingly frustrating.
"You need not feel guilty," she said. "I do not blame you; I'm sure I would have done the same. I was only curious, as it would have been a very strange dream to have."
Harry smiled with only the corners of his mouth. "Indeed…it would."
A long silence followed, full of heavy thoughts on both sides.
"I had a letter from Mr. Weasley this morning," Harry announced without any attempt at some segue. "He and his family send wishes of your good health. His mother also sent along an interesting message for me."
Hermione only raised her eyebrow, waiting for some criticism to come, as Mrs. Weasley was often as bad as her daughter.
"She tells me that as the owner of such a fine estate, it would be reprehensible of me not to hold a ball here. What do you think?"
"I had not considered the notion," Hermione replied. "While I think Mrs. Weasley perhaps has too high an opinion of balls in general, it is the custom of the wealthy to host such events, and it would do you no discredit. If you would like to hold a ball, I should not object."
"But do you feel your strength is equal to the task?" Harry asked. "The burden of hostess is not light."
Hermione scowled. "My strength is the same as it has always been, Harry. I'm perfectly well, and I should very much like some activity other than lying in bed to occupy my time."
She watched him fight a smile. "Very well then. We should get to work on the guest list soon."
"Now is as good a time as any," Hermione replied.
Harry gave her a measuring stare, and finally rolled his eyes. "Very well. Get dressed and meet me in the library."
~
The guest list was quickly decided upon. All of the local wizarding families were to be invited, along with many friends and acquaintances from their days at Hogwarts. Her mother and father would be staying on for the occasion, and the two youngest Weasleys would be invited to stay at Godric's Hollow, as well as their particular friends Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. Mr. Longbottom had been in their year in school, and Miss Lovegood a year younger. She would only be able to attend because the ball would take place before the term started.
The flurry of planning that commenced shortly afterward was enough to keep Hermione's mind thoroughly occupied. Harry helped a great deal, but having attended very few balls in his life, he had very little idea what went into one. Thus, Hermione had to do the detailed work, and though she'd always thought balls a little frivolous, she found the planning of one rather entertaining.
Quickly, invitations were sent, and Hermione set about obtaining an orchestra, having the ballroom floor polished, choosing the foods to be served, and deciding other such vital matters to a good ball.
The date was set for the end of August, and left Hermione perhaps inadequate time to have the perfect gown constructed for the occasion - not that she was the sort of woman to worry much about her appearance. In this case, however, she had a very small audience in mind, and that was her husband. She desired him, at least, to see her in full splendor, and perhaps rethink the platonic nature of their marriage.
With her mother's assistance and a very good seamstress, Hermione obtained a dress of light blue silk, which flattered her complexion very well, and was designed in such a way to show her figure to great effect. All in all, Hermione was quite satisfied with the ensemble.
The day of the ball approached quickly, and soon it was only three days before the ball, when Mr. and Miss Weasley arrived, followed the next day by Mr. Longbottom and Miss Lovegood. Hermione only felt uncomfortable at having Miss Weasley in her home, but she did not think the young lady bold enough to search out her husband's rooms, nor did she think her husband low enough to accept an advance of that nature, so she slept relatively easily, given the anxiety she felt about the approaching ball.
The day before the ball would take place saw perhaps one of the oddest breakfasts Godric's Hollow had seen in its long history. At one end of the table, Mr. Weasley was conversing with the Grangers, inquiring as to the many ways in which non-magical folk managed daily tasks. Mr. Longbottom, being a shy, bumbling sort of fellow, was listening quietly to this conversation.
Next to Mr. Weasley sat Miss Lovegood, with Miss Weasley across from her and Harry at her other side. Hermione seated herself next to Miss Weasley, preferring the unpleasant act of being near her than letting the girl any closer to her husband.
"Thank you so much for inviting me," Luna was saying to Hermione. "This is precisely what I needed. Dancing is the only way to get rid of gryffilinks."
"You're welcome," Hermione said, nodding patiently. The girl had always been on the odd side, but she had proven to be of such loyal and steady character that Hermione could not help liking her.
Miss Weasley was, of course, using the opportunity to attempt to attract Harry's attention, but he thwarted her plans by engaging himself in the conversation between Hermione and Miss Lovegood. Miss Weasley turned to flirt with Mr. Longbottom, who was so alarmed by her attentions that he spilled his tea right down his shirt.
After breakfast, the men went outside to fly, or in Mr. Granger's case, to watch the three others fly, and the women were sent to the drawing room for their traditional sport - gossip. Hermione loathed flying, but she would rather have been out on a broom than confined in a room longer than necessary with Miss. Weasley.
Luckily for Hermione, Miss Lovegood began talking to Miss Weasley of her typical fantastical creatures, and Hermione was free to whisper with her mother.
"Miss Weasley seems to be quite as shameless as you depicted her," Mrs. Granger said conspiratorially in her daughter's ear. "Perhaps you should advise your husband to lock his door this evening."
Her mother's harsh words made Hermione feel much less guilty in her jealousy and dislike toward the girl. "I think her father might consider reviving the chastity belt, if only for the safety of the men around her."
Mrs. Granger stifled a laugh. "I wonder that you invited her at all."
"Only for her family's sake," Hermione replied. "They were always very kind to Harry. I would not insult them by snubbing their daughter, much as I might like to."
Her mother smiled. "Well, if it is any consolation, your husband seems to feel as much distaste for her as you do."
Hermione smiled. "Oh, I know. I have no fears on that score. Harry's much too honorable to ever be unfaithful. I just wish…."
"What, my dear?"
"I wish I knew he were faithful because he'd never want anyone else…because he loved me."
"And I'd like to know what makes you so sure he doesn't," her mother replied, with the smallest of smirks.
~
Early the next evening, Hermione engaged her mother's assistance in dressing for the ball, and sent her maid (who was being a little too helpful for Hermione's liking) to help the other elves in their preparations.
Currently, Hermione stood gripping a bedpost while her mother tightened her corset strings.
"Can you still breathe, dear?"
"Yes," Hermione said, although she wasn't sure what she was managing quite met the definition. "Tighter."
"I worry about you, Hermione," her mother said. "I've never known you to be one to work so hard to impress a man - and you do realize the fruitlessness of wooing a man you've already married, don't you?"
"I'd certainly rather not be doing this if I didn't have to," Hermione said - or gasped, more like, as her ribcage was now severely compressed. "But it's him that doesn't realize he's married me."
Mrs. Granger chuckled. "If he's truly a man, he'll realize soon enough, trust me."
Hermione sighed. "You know, when I agreed to marry him, I feared I might fall in love with somebody else, and regret having accepted him. It never occurred to me that I might fall in love with my husband. I should have known irony would have its way."
"If irony's truly set on having its way, you'll probably find out he's loved you all along and you've gone to a lot of trouble for nothing," her mother said wryly.
"Irony is only that kind in novels, mama."
"Well, if there's anything that can work miracles, it's this gown," Mrs. Granger said. "Let's set it to work."
Several moments later, Hermione stood before the mirror, scrutinizing her reflection. The dress was lovely, a magnificent work of silk and thread, though Hermione did not see the awe-inspiring transformation she'd been hoping for. She saw nothing impressive enough to tempt a man who had yet to see her as a woman.
"Come, dear," her mother said gently. "Let's do your hair now."
While Mrs. Granger was pinning her hair into place and Hermione sat ruminating on the sad beginning to the evening, a timid house-elf Hermione had never seen before appeared.
"Master sends this," she said, holding out to Hermione a black box that appeared to house a necklace, "and he says he hopes it will do, as he's not seen your dress."
Hermione smiled and thanked the elf, who quickly disappeared. Her mother had stopped her work to see what the box contained.
Mouth dry, Hermione opened it slowly to find a dazzling necklace of silver and diamonds.
"Good heavens," her mother breathed. "If that's not love, I don't know what is."
Hermione smiled wistfully. "It's probably from the family's collection."
Nevertheless, the diamonds around her throat gave her more confidence than she'd anticipated having when she made her way down the main staircase to meet their guests.