DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. does, and she has every right to do whatever she thinks is best for Harry Potter. I just love writing. So sue me. Wait, seriously… don't.
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A/N:
Wow! I can't believe I just updated another chapter. This must be the first time that I had done that twice within a week. Well, considering that I haven't done this before, I hope you like this one even though I came up with it in a hurry. Again, with the language and some typo, please excuse my mistakes.
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Harry Potter couldn't describe the way he felt as he stood on the sidelines, watching the woman who had rejected his invitation earlier, dancing what seemed to be her 5th waltz.
When she left him, he wanted to believe that she did that with every gentleman she met.
But his pride took a great deal of battering the moment he returned inside and found her with Oliver Wood, one of his business acquaintances, and looking to have what seemed a good time.
He had been willing to accept that they were good friends, but then, she also accepted a dance with Blaise Zabini, a Lord in the Slytherin Estate, and Harry knew she couldn't be that sociable.
Now, as he followe her every move, he reluctantly admitted in a befuddled state that she actually didn't want to dance with him.
The only thing left bothering his mind was the reason for her aversion.
He tried to recall whether he had done something lately that would have caused her to hate him. But the thought had been absurd that he immediately overlooked that possibility.
He hadn't met her. He was sure about that. If he had, he would have remembered their first meeting, and even the next. He would have sought her out; that was a foregone conclusion.
She wasn't a woman one could easily forget.
His strong attraction to her told him so. Even he was surprised by his reaction to seeing and being with her. A few minutes in her company and he was behaving like this.
One would think he knew better than to act like a besotted fool in a state that neither rhyme nor reason can actually describe.
How could she not accept his invitation, though?
Even if he was not arrogant when it came to his looks or his appeal, he didn't ignore the absurdity that he hadn't been able to charm her or at least wrung her approval.
Statistically speaking, and this was the truth, no lady had yet turned him down or left him the way she had.
Except maybe that chit at the Masquerade Ball, Harry thought suddenly.
The possibility hit him, but it still didn't explain the reason she didn't like him.
Moreover, the odds of her being the same female were unlikely and so Harry dismissed it as well.
For the first time in the last hour, Harry tore his gaze away from her and sought his friend to finally ask about her identity.
He found Ron standing beside his wife near the refreshments and bowed for Luna's sake, despite the fact that the three of them have been friends for six years.
"Luna," He said, abandoning formality. "Do you mind if I speak with Ron for a moment?"
"Of course not, Harry." Luna smiled at him as she shook her head.
"Thank you." Harry said and then stirred Ron away for privacy.
When they were standing at the farthest corner of the room, Harry turned to look at Hermione who was now dancing her 6th waltz.
Harry was relieved to see that she was now with Bill Weasley, Ron's older brother and also the next Earl of Surrey because he was the Weasleys' eldest son.
But he didn't relax all that much.
Probably because he didn't want anyone dancing with her no matter how well-mannered her partners were.
"What?" Ron asked Harry, searching his face.
"I need to know something."
Ron let out an exasperated breath. "And here I was, thinking, you've already done something with one of the guests."
Harry flinched at this.
His ardent affairs with mistresses weren't untrue, but they weren't accurate either.
He was just teasing his godfather when he told him about having 8 mistresses. It had only been a couple.
But Harry wanted to annoy Sirius as much as he annoyed him, so Harry let the gossips roam the way they were supposed to, which was to change from one quidnunc to the other.
And it worked.
But Harry found the opinion unwanted right now.
"No." He gritted his teeth, still eyeing the girl.
Ron seemed to have noticed his lack of visual accuracy and followed his gaze.
Harry knew that his friend was looking at the very same person he was staring at, but didn't say anything.
He expected Ron to dissuade his apparent interest, but instead, he just raised his eyebrows.
"I gather you want me to introduce you to her." He mused aloud.
Harry surprised him with a scoff. "I wouldn't even bother." He muttered in a clipped tone. "I met the chit earlier and…"
"She gave you the cut." Ron interrupted in amused disbelief as he recognized the tone in Harry's voice.
Harry chuckled. "Split me in two, mate. I can't tell why, though. I don't think I know her." He looked at Ron and tipped his head towards her direction. "Who is she?"
"She is Lady Hermione Granger." Ron said.
"And?"
"She's a good friend of Luna's."
"How old is she?" Harry asked.
"Be thankful that no one can hear you. Do you know that it is not proper to ask a lady's years?" Ron chastised.
Harry frowned. "Is that a society rule?"
"No." Ron chuckled. "Just the ladies'."
"So then?"
"She is two summers older than Luna." Ron informed. "25, I believe."
Harry was more surprised and impressed than repulsed at Hermione's age. Even if it was considered past marriageable, it didn't matter to him.
And more than he would have liked to admit, he hated knowing that nobody considered her out of the marriage mart.
"Where is she from?"
Ron opened his mouth to answer when a continuous ringing drowned out his voice.
"We'll talk later, Harry." Harry heard Ron say amidst the noise as he saw his friend move towards his mother. "I have to escort my mum."
Harry didn't get to say another word as Ron walked through the crowd to find Molly Weasley. In the corner of his eye, he saw Luna already with her father-in-law.
With a sigh, Harry disengaged himself from the corner.
Dinner was served.
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Hermione tried not to squirm as she felt Harry's gaze on her again for what seemed to be the hundredth time since dinner had begun.
And for the hundredth time as well, she resisted the urge to ask Luna why she had been seated directly in front of him.
It would have been her consolation that Ginny Weasley sat next to her and that she was doing her best to make Hermione comfortable.
But when somebody was staring and making her nerves jump every time she noticed, it didn't really matter that much.
And not for the first time that evening did she recall her discovery that the dinner table where she was seated was for intimate friends of the host and hostess of the ball.
Earlier, she hadn't been aware that Harry Potter was close to any of the Weasleys.
But now, as she stole a glance at him, it was very much clear to her that he was treated as family.
Because of that, she felt like the outsider of the group and that she was not wanted as much as he.
She couldn't be more wrong about that.
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At the end of the table, Luna was successfully avoiding Hermione whom she had caught looking at her several times with an expression of desperation.
It was hard to suppress her smile, though.
It was when one notices how the evening was faring.
She couldn't be happier that two of her friends were showing some kind of attraction towards one another.
All throughout dinner, she was not indifferent to the subtle glances Hermione gave Harry, it didn't matter much that it was not friendly at all. What counted was that Hermione was aware of Harry whose staring couldn't have been more forthright.
Meanwhile, Ron, who was opposite Luna, was more successful well in hiding his amusement.
Whether Harry was aware of it or not, he was actually sending warning signals to Hermione, and she couldn't be more ill at ease about his staring.
Sirius, who was seated next to Harry, was positively beaming at the obvious attention Harry was giving the lovely woman seating across him.
Although the lad was assumingly trying not to look that obvious, Sirius did not miss anything.
How could he?
When it came to his godson, he had a keen sense of understanding, and in this case, a great deal of appreciation.
But for Harry's solace, no one else seemed to know, except maybe Sirius' daughter and her husband who were both trying hard not to appear as if they knew.
So what would he do?
Nothing.
Sirius suspected he wouldn't have to.
He knew Harry would do something soon and it would bode well on both their parts that Sirius just stayed put.
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The silence that was in between him and Hermione was too awkward that Harry couldn't help but think of the reason that she was still ignoring him. He knew she was aware of his scrutiny, but she hadn't said a word to tell him off.
His eyes were strained from looking nowhere else and he suspected that if not everybody knew what he was doing, his godfather and Ron did.
His motive was none other than to find out why she was so keen on believing that not even a single hair on his body existed. But it was plain to him that she wasn't about to speak or even acknowledge he was there.
Well then, he decided, if you don't have anything to say, I do.
He deliberately turned his head towards Ron to catch his attention, and sure enough, his friend knew what he had been doing.
Harry simply raised his brow to convey his message and Ron immediately understood.
Clearing his throat, he said. "I don't believe Harry knows everyone at the table."
Everybody looked at each other and then all eyes were suddenly only on Hermione.
"I don't think there's a need…" She muttered but her voice was a whisper in comparison to Harry's deeper and louder one.
"Yes, I noticed that as well." Turning her gaze back on her, Harry leaned forward. "I've been around for 5 years, my lady, but it seemed that I have only set eyes on you tonight."
Ignoring the other meaning insinuated by his words, Ron explained. "Hermione returned from Scotland only 4 months ago."
"Scotland. Very stunning country." Harry smiled at Hermione. "How was your stay there, my lady?"
"It was all right." She answered feebly, toying with her fork.
Harry may have thought of her tone as due to embarrassment for being put in the limelight, but Hermione knew that if she ever so much as raise her voice, the people around her would practically feel her loathing for Harry.
"Why were you in Scotland?" Harry asked again.
"I…" Hermione stopped.
What would she tell him?
That she wanted to escape the pressure of being forced to marry and present a Ravenclaw Earl?
She couldn't say that.
Not in front of him.
"I wanted to see what it was like." She managed to say, even though half the people in the dinner table knew her real reason.
"What did you think of it?"
"It was a beautiful country, Your Grace." She answered.
"How were the people? I'm sure they treated you well."
"They did. They were friendly and very hospitable."
"Where did you stay, by the way? Scotland has very…rough outdoors."
"I own a manor there which came to me from my mother's dowry."
"Ah. That's good to hear." He cut a piece of his meat and said before putting it into his mouth. "So then, what did you do? Staying in a foreign land must have been quite dull to you."
"I appreciated the scenery, Your Grace. There was nothing quite like it." She gritted her teeth.
Harry swallowed. "No soirees then?"
Did his questions ever stop? Hermione forced herself not to roll her eyes at him.
"I didn't attend any, Your Grace."
"Didn't you miss them?" Harry asked her.
"I prefer a scene of quieter nature."
Harry turned to look at everyone at the table and asked no one in particular. "Would that explain why she is not yet married?"
If other people heard him say this, they would have castrated him to oblivion because such things were not said when they involved the very person they were referring to.
But in Harry's case, it was safe since he was amidst friends who knew better than to rebuke him over his disrespect.
"Dear God, no." Ginny was the one who caught the question. "Hermione attends gatherings but only the ones that matter."
"It can't be because of few suitors." Harry commented. When no one said anything, he placed a hand over his heart as if offended. "Do not even consider telling me that it is so, my lady, or I would have to be the only single gentleman here who is not blind to your beauty."
"I do have offers, Your Grace." Hermione cried out indignantly, surprising herself with her reaction. Normally, she wouldn't have responded. But his words, combined with how he said it, got to her nerves.
"She does. But the gentlemen who offer never get past dancing to be considered as suitors. The cards they present always vanish at the end of the night." Luna commented with an air of disbelief. "Only God knows what she does with them."
"I told you, Luna. They must fall off while I'm dancing." Hermione explained feebly, trying her best to be the leader of the conversation, not Harry.
"So when you say always, this includes our Masquerade Ball?" Molly decidedly joined the conversation, somewhat perturbed by the thought that Hermione, her self-appointed charge, had managed to rebuke one more time the offers that were given her.
She didn't know that at the same time, she was also destroying any possibility of Hermione being successful in what she was trying to do: protect her privacy.
"The same one I attended?" Harry asked, a nagging thought screaming at the back of his head.
"The very same." Luna replied.
It can't be… Harry thought.
"So the cards vanished there as well?" Harry urged, thinking that the odds were finally in his favor, though he didn't know whether to feel relieved or angry about it.
"Yes. I distinctly remember Hermione being given a number of cards, I asked about them myself at the latter part of the evening." Luna confided.
"How many were there?" Fred Weasley asked casually.
Harry waited with bated breath at her answer. Expecting, not really hoping, that it was exactly the same number as he recalled "Parvati" had said she had.
"It was five." Ginny replied.
Harry's hopes crashed.
"No." Luna interjected. "She had seven."
And then they soared.
"You were dancing with Neville Longbottom when she was given the other two." Luna told Ginny, who looked ready to defend herself.
Ginny seemed to have recalled that happening and shrugged.
Luna proceeded to relate cheerfully. "Afterwards, she went to the ladies' room, and then when she returned almost an hour later, they were gone."
"Gone? How did you know?" George asked in an amused tone.
Hermione couldn't help but be awed at the way Harry had managed to have the conversation revolve around her and her only.
"It had been late when she returned. Lord MacMillan came to ask for her card. And Hermione adamantly said she already gave it to someone else. When Lord MacMillan left, I asked Hermione where her card was. I didn't really believe she already gave it to someone, and she said it was with the other cards."
"And where were they?" Molly asked.
Luna bit her lip to keep herself from laughing out loud. "Nowhere."
"They weren't exactly `nowhere', Molly." Hermione said looking her.
Everyone looked expectantly at her.
"I left them…somewhere."
"You mean hid them." Harry finally interrupted.
Hermione looked just about ready to contradict him when the others decided to talk amongst themselves.
"And where could she have?" Molly asked indignantly. "A woman does not usually cavort around, hiding something. That would have been too obvious."
"I didn't see her." Ginny muttered.
"Nor I." Luna mused aloud. "Could she have done it in the bathroom?"
"No. Someone would have seen her."
"Would it be too much to ask for another topic?" Hermione interrupted them. "I don't believe that gentlemen's cards make a conversation good."
"We're sorry, Mione. But it is a bit trifling to think about it." Ginny said, giggling. "I can't imagine seeing you, hiding those cards."
"I can." Harry muttered with a great deal of feeling.
Hermione gaped at him.
Ginny rolled her eyes at him, however. "How can you? You didn't even know her then. And she was wearing a costume. Therefore, it is quite impossible for you to be able to imagine it accurately."
Harry flashed Ginny a smile before letting the full blast of his gaze fall on Hermione. "Well then, what were you wearing? Enlighten me, my lady. So that my vision of you would be as vivid as I see you now…with you hiding your cards, I mean."
Hermione bit her lip.
He wouldn't know, would he?
It had been dark in that balcony.
He wouldn't have seen her clearly so she could lie and he wouldn't know it was her.
Oh, who was she kidding?
He probably knew who she was right now.
Hermione answered him sulkily. "I was wearing something hideous that the men had to have been more courageous or stupid than I originally thought to dance or even stand beside me."
Harry laughed at the way her eyes flamed at the lie.
It was you in that balcony, wasn't it? He tried to tell her with his gaze.
He tried to come up with a comment that would surely force her to give an answer that would finally confirm his suspicions, but Ginny interrupted his thoughts.
"You said the exact same thing before, only you were referring to another dress." Ginny's laughing voice said. "You were very critical about Parvati's robes, considering that you were wearing almost the same thing."
Hermione grimaced. She could just imagine the thoughts going on inside Harry Potter's head, his nerves organizing the little pieces of information that had been inadvertently given to him by her defenders.
This time, she didn't even attempt to ignore him.
Slowly, she lifted her face and met his eyes.
There was no mistaking the gleam in those green orbs of his.
Escape would only be through persuading him otherwise, but she knew he was not a fool to believe what she would say.
Now, she would have to explain why she had left so abruptly three months ago, given him a direct cut earlier that evening, and ignored him at the beginning of dinner.
But she didn't really have to, did she?
Her business was her own and he didn't have the right to demand any information from her.
She could face him without really facing him.
Right…
As if he'd let her.
"Don't worry, dear." Molly said.
Hermione was surprised at the accuracy of Mrs. Weasley's would-be advice had she known what was going on inside Hermione's head.
"Your comment on Parvati's dress would not be revealed. Your secret is safe with us." She smiled. "But I must warn you, that deception regarding your cards must not persist."
She then returned to her meal.
And so did the rest of the Weasleys who had somehow reached the conclusion that something was over and had now gone back to their own conversations.
Only 5 people at the dinner table of 14 did know what that something was and were not as keen on ending it.
But only two people were clearly aware of its vitality and thought better than to discuss it openly.
As for now the issue with Parvati was the farthest thing from Hermione's mind.
What she was thinking about was more pressing matters.
Hermione didn't know whether to feel angry or scared that the only secret that mattered, the one which concerned her identity, and the one she refused to let out, was no longer a secret.
Not when it was already in the hands of Harry Potter.
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A/N:
So this is another end. Classes are about to start in a couple of weeks and I decided that I must finish at least half the story before I hit the books again. So, here I am, doing just that.
I hope you like this chap and stay tuned for the next ones! I wouldn't ask for you to review…doing that would actually command you to do so, right?
Hehe…but if you want to at least ease the pain I endured for hitting my head quite a few times to come up with another chapter, please do click that small button just below and let me hear YOUR thoughts. I would appreciate it very much. Thank you.
By the way, I couldn't find any FAQ, so I don't have answers right now. Ciao!
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