Disclaimer: See Act 1.
Author's Note: Thank you, everyone, for reading and reviewing! I'm somewhat amazed at how popular this first Act has started out to be. I hope the second Act lives up to your expectations.
Playing a Part
Act 2: The Play Begins
A week later, Hermione had come to the conclusion that she must have been temporarily insane.
What had she been thinking to agree to this sort of madcap scheme?
It was insane. Absolute madness.
Rather like Ron had said when Harry had told him about their plan. Ron had given them both looks as if they'd just sprouted another head and then said, in response to Harry's, "So what do you think?", "I think you're both barmy."
Harry had shrugged. "Maybe I am, but I'd be even more barmy if I had to go through another night of being surrounded by all those bloody girls."
She stared at herself in the mirror. She'd gone to rather more trouble than she otherwise would have for this particular ball, had spent more than an hour trying out different hair-styles before settling on one and had then, on an impulse, used a discreet charm on the bodice of her dress robes to make the neckline lower than it had been.
She wondered if Harry would notice.
"Hermione? You ready?"
"Coming." She gave herself one last look in the mirror and tried to fortify herself.
Harry smiled when he saw her. Really, Hermione was quite pretty. He never really thought about her looks normally but when she made an effort and was dressed up, she really was pretty. "You look great," he said sincerely and handed her cloak to her.
"Thanks, so do you." And she tried to comfort herself with the thought that, after all, Harry's sincere compliments meant something, at least- and so what if she wasn't the type to ever strike a man-that is, strike Harry-dumb with admiration? He thought she looked great and that would have to be enough.
He grinned at her. "Are you ready for this?"
"I don't know. We'll see."
"Yes, we will."
By the time they arrived at the Russian Magical Embassy, the ball was well under-way. They had specifically planned to arrive a little later than usual in an attempt to make their entrance together at once both more subtle and more pointed without the usual fanfare.
Harry realized the moment he and Hermione reached the door that they'd failed in that calculation.
There was a man in uniform waiting at the door who, Harry suspected, had been placed there for the sole purpose of being able to announce his arrival.
He was right.
Harry grimaced. "Oh no, not this," he muttered.
She threw him a resigned look and a smile. "Smile, Harry. You look like you're being led to the guillotine or something."
That earned her a crack of surprised laughter as he grinned at her and so, when the man announced, "Harry Potter and his date," in a voice enhanced by the Sonorus Charm, the first sight of them that the ballroom full of people had was of him smiling down at Hermione.
He glanced at her to see that her smile was looking a little forced now, no doubt at having been reduced to the status of 'his date' with no name mentioned. He slipped his hand into hers, giving it an encouraging squeeze. "It doesn't matter. Everyone with half a brain knows that if it weren't for you, I'd never have survived to be here tonight anyway." He paused and added teasingly, "I haven't decided yet if I'll forgive you for condemning me to this."
"Harry!" Her reproof at his joke (which he'd expected, since he knew she disliked it when he made light of his near-death experiences) was belied by the mildness of her tone and the smile she couldn't help.
"Sorry," he grinned unrepentantly. "Here begins our acting career," he added, under his breath, as they continued into the ballroom.
And, as had happened at the other two balls he'd been to, he was accosted almost before he finished looking around the room for familiar faces.
"Harry!"
Harry barely had time to blink before a blonde witch whom he vaguely remembered meeting at one of the previous balls (he couldn't remember which one) rushed towards him and stopped just short of practically flinging herself at him.
"Oh, Harry, it's so good to see you again," she greeted him enthusiastically, her voice warm and her expression inviting. "I was looking forward to continuing our conversation," she purred, managing to make it sound like they'd been having a very intense, personal talk. (Harry seemed to remember that they'd talked about the weather.) She had attached herself to Harry's arm and was gripping it possessively, smiling up at him what was clearly supposed to be an alluring smile.
(For a moment, Harry wondered fleetingly if there weren't something wrong with him that seeing her rather blatantly flirtatious smile didn't engender any sort of reaction in him, at least not that she would like. She was certainly pretty, would probably even be considered beautiful, with her bright blue eyes and blonde hair and perfect features, to say nothing of her figure that was beautifully revealed by her dress robes-but he felt nothing. Surely any normal fellow would be attracted, would enjoy the attention of such a pretty witch; he was clearly not normal because all he felt was distaste and a desire to flee.)
After a moment in which Harry forced a polite smile and a "hello," she continued on, sparing Hermione a cool glance and a patently false smile. "Oh, Hermione, I didn't see you at first. You don't mind if I borrow Harry for a while, do you?"
Harry tried to surreptitiously twitch his arm out of the girl's grasp-he couldn't even remember her name, Diedre or maybe it was Daphne or was it April?-but failed. He stiffened at the not-quite-veiled disparagement in her tone (as if Hermione was invisible, of all things, when in reality, she was always very visible to him at least and he'd realized she tended to catch his eye even without meaning to because of the open-ness of all her expressions and the un-self-conscious sincerity of everything she said and did). He opened his mouth, keeping his role of Hermione's boyfriend in mind, but Hermione spoke first.
Harry found himself staring in some surprise as Hermione gifted the girl with a bright smile. "Actually, I do mind. You'll have to talk to Harry some other time." Her tone was so sugary that for a split second, the girl assumed Hermione had given way and even began to smile before she realized what Hermione had said.
Harry swallowed back a laugh and the impulse to cheer Hermione-who would have guessed she could be so good at playing the role of possessive girlfriend?
The girl gave a forced little laugh that grated on Harry's ears. "Oh but really you can't expect to monopolize Harry, now can you?"
Harry's limited patience had run out and he deemed it high time he supported Hermione in this scheme of his, so he jerked his arm free from the persistent witch's grip with a little more force than was strictly polite. "Well, I was hoping to monopolize Hermione this evening, which is why I asked her to be my date."
"Your- your date? Her?" The girl gaped at him.
"Well, she is the only witch I really want to spend the evening with, so it only made sense, don't you think?"
With that, Harry turned away, towards where he'd last glimpsed Ron, and smiled inwardly as he noted that Hermione was, as always, on the same page with him and so had matched his movements without his even having to tell her.
They had only walked a few steps before they glanced at each other and found themselves grinning and then laughing.
"I never thought I'd say this but I'm having fun at this ball," he grinned, relishing both the truth of it and also the freedom of being able to simply be himself, now that he was, at least for now, away from his fans.
"Yeah, that was rather amusing," Hermione agreed. "Are all your love-struck fans quite so… so obvious?"
"Thankfully, no, but they are very- erm- enthusiastic."
"Nice diplomatic answer," Hermione noted teasingly. "So, if I dare ask, what were you talking about in that conversation she was so eager to continue? Some intensely emotional topic?"
"Oh, very," Harry deadpanned. "I can get teary-eyed just thinking about the terrible spate of sunny days we've had lately."
Hermione made a noise suspiciously like a snort. "The weather?"
"Oh, not only the weather. If I remember correctly, we also mentioned the extremely philosophical subject of the Weird Sisters' new album."
"Really?" Hermione managed to say in a passably serious tone, as if he'd mentioned that they'd also talked about the nature of good and evil.
"Yes. She asked if I'd listened to it; I said no and she said I should listen to it sometime."
Hermione lost the battle with amusement and burst out laughing.
Harry grinned at her and couldn't help but think how very-pretty-Hermione looked like this, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling. Unconsciously, his hand reached out for hers again, giving it another quick squeeze.
Her smile could brighten up a cloudy day. The vague thought flitted through his mind but dissipated in the next moment and he forgot it.
"Really, saying you're my date has had a wonderful effect. I'm not being nearly smothered by girls anymore," he changed the subject, lowering his voice a little in case anyone was near enough to overhear.
"No," Hermione agreed with a quick glance around. "Instead, though, everyone's looking at us, watching us."
Harry cast a quick glance around as well, seeing the quickly-withdrawn gazes and the more openly-curious stares. "So they are. Well, what do you say we reprise our performance and give them something more to stare at?" he suggested, on impulse.
Hermione hesitated. "Harry-what…" she began.
Buoyed by his amusement and the success of his little plan so far, Harry entered fully into the spirit of it and grinned at her briefly. Then, sobering, he lifted the hand he still held to his lips, brushing his mouth against the back of her hand, his eyes holding hers for a long moment.
Hermione forgot how to breathe. She felt her cheeks flush hotly under his gaze, almost mesmerized in spite of herself at the way he was looking at her. It was almost-almost like the way he'd used to look at Cho or Ginny… It was almost as if it were real and he really did think she was beautiful… Almost as if he were kissing her hand as a substitute for the more intimate caress he couldn't give her while they were in public…
Almost-but not quite.
She could see, even though she knew no one else could, the humorous glint in his eye. And the sight restored her to herself.
For just a fleeting moment, she'd allowed herself to forget this was just an act, but that glint in his eye brought her back to reality.
After all, it was only pretend, just an act.
He was only pretending to fancy her in that way, only playing the part of a besotted lover.
And since that was the case, according to the plan, she was only pretending to be charmed by him-in love with him… She was only pretending to care about him so much, pretending the flush in her cheeks when he gave her one of his intense looks… Only pretending…
And if she thought it often enough, maybe it would turn out to be true.
We only pretend
You do not offend
In playing a lover's part.
The game of just supposing
Is the sweetest game I know.
Our dreams are more romantic
Than the world we see…
~ "Make Believe" from the musical, "Show Boat"
~To be continued…