Chapter 4: The Ball at Pomona Lodge
Author notes: Hey all, thanks for the reviews. I'm sorry it's taken so long to update, but I keep finding the most embarrassing typos…at one point I substituted "her waste" for "her waist." It actually made the line pretty hilarious. Anyspoo, I depart a little from P&P canon here…but darn it, it's my fic and that means I can pretty much do what I want, when I want. Anyway, for the canon sticklers, the next two chapters are based more on the 1940 version of P&P with Greer Garson and Lawrence Olivier, which has the best ballroom costumes and dance sequences of any P&P film. Plus, in that version, Mr. Darcy is a little more demonstrative towards Lizzy. *dreamy sigh*
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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"Lavender, come on now. Hurry up!" Luna called to her sister. Lavender had taken the entire afternoon to get ready for the ball but still managed to make them all late.
"I'm coming Luna," Lavender called from upstairs. Hermione knew that Lavender's "I'm coming" would mean she would be at least five more minutes. Hermione took advantage of the delay and adjusted her off-the-shoulder rose colored gown. She loved how the dress flowed loosely at her feet and had a small train dotted with rose petals tumbling behind her. The bodice took some getting used to, but she used a spell to make it as tight as possible while still allowing her to breathe comfortably. She had charmed her hair into a complicated braided twist and had fastened pink rose buds throughout her brown locks. Her sister Lavender insisted that she darken her eyelashes and put a hint of color on her cheeks. Hermione had to admit that the effect wasn't all that displeasing.
However, Hermione knew that no matter what effort she put into her appearance, she could never hold a candle to the effulgent beauty of her older sister.
Luna was wearing a full gown of powder blue, trimmed with white ribbons and pearls. Her long blonde hair was piled on top of her head and a few loose tendrils danced around her shoulders, framing her face. Her cheeks were dusted with a shimmering powder and her violet eyes shown with barely veiled excitement as she straightened the white sash around her waist.
"Don't be nervous," Hermione assured her softly. She noticed her sister's fidgeting and knew that Luna was looking forward to seeing Ronald Weasley again. "You look wonderful." Hermione added.
Luna smiled gratefully. "Thank you. You look beautiful too. I've never seen you look so lovely."
Hermione smiled gratefully and called out to Lavender, "The coach is ready, Lavender. We're leaving. Enjoy the evening!"
Luna and Hermione giggled as Lavender suddenly appeared in a streak of silver. Her dress was certainly eye catching, which was what Lav apparently wanted. The skirt was the fullest Hermione had ever seen, and she wondered if she should chide her sister about the low cut of the bosom.
"Come on girls," their aunt called, hurrying toward them with a bundle of cloaks for the journey. Careful not to upset her own puffy gold gown, Aunt Aurora began herding them out the door and into the waiting coach. Their aunt muttered a spell, and the carriage sped off down the lane. The sisters spent an uncomfortable ten minutes crammed against each other, their dresses billowing out over the seats and each other. The countryside raced by them, quiet and cozy under a clear night sky. Hermione gazed out the window at the illuminated cottages until the carriage turned into the wrought-iron gates of Pomona Lodge.
They were one of the last families to arrive, and the great house was already bubbling over with activity. The girls piled out of the carriage, careful not to tread on each other's gowns as they neared the entrance. As they entered, a house-elf helped them out of their cloaks, and the three sisters took a moment to admire the grandness of the affair.
Evergreen garlands and holly berries wound round the tall columns and banisters while candles and crystals of all colors floated above the guests. Someone had cast a spell to make the ceiling transparent, and Hermione could see the light from the stars and the moon beam down on the partygoers. The house was richly furnished, and food from all over the world adorned every conceivable surface: roasted red pepper canapés, blackberry and pineapple tarts, oysters, escargots, bits of lobster wrapped in bacon, gooseberry candies, sausage pastries, roasted duck puffs, smoked salmon…
The warm glow of elegance was so overwhelming that even Lavender (for once) was speechless. Hermione herself was so impressed that she didn't see Tonks and Lupin standing beside her.
Tonks nudged her cousin, and Hermione spun round, startled.
"Tonks!" Hermione cried cheerfully as she embraced her cousin.
"Mione!" Tonks laughed as she hugged her back. Hermione pulled away to admire Tonk's black and white gown. Her hair was still a silver blonde, but the undersides were now streaked with black. Hermione grinned. It was the personal style that she had come to expect from Tonks.
"Hello Hermione," Lupin shook her hand and greeted her with a smile.
"Look who I found," Tonks proclaimed proudly, taking Lupin's arm. "He was wandering all over the place looking for your family."
"Well I'm glad he found us," Hermione said sincerely.
"Would you like to dance Hermione?" Lupin asked merrily. Hermione noticed Tonks' face fell a bit, much to her surprise.
"Of course Remus. You'll be my first dance," Hermione replied, all-the-while eyeing her disappointed
cousin. Lupin bowed and left them, and Hermione waited until he was well out of earshot to question her cousin.
"Tonks, are you all right?"
Tonks looked sadly at Hermione. "Yeah…I just thought he'd ask me to dance first. We've been talking since I got here and I've really been trying to ….well, behave and all." Tonks shrugged and gave a fake smile.
Hermione patted her sad cousin on the cheek. "Tonks, if Remus Lupin can't see how beautiful and funny and wonderful you are, then he doesn't deserve to dance with you."
Tonks grinned. "Yeah?"
"Absolutely," Hermione assured her.
"Hmm." Tonks eyed her cousin appraisingly. "I guess Remus is right…you are the cleverest witch in England."
Hermione tilted her head. "What?"
"Remus has been going on and on and on about how brilliant you are. He thinks your idea about ruining wine is
great." Tonks leaned in. "I think he's in looove…with the idea, I mean."
Hermione looked sternly at her cousin but said nothing.
Tonks just held up her hands and backed away. She recognized that look and knew when Hermione's patience for teasing had run out. Tonks went to go mingle and, as dancing wouldn't begin for a few minutes, Hermione decided to go to the powder room to see if her hair was mussed.
She excused herself from her sisters and waded through the crowd. As she entered the large gathering room she felt a sharp pain as someone suddenly nudged her side. Her boned bodice pinched her, and she was off-kilter for a moment until she felt a hand gripping her waist to help steady her.
She closed her eyes, recognizing the gentle caress. For a moment, she was taken back to that encounter in the street when Harry had held her for a few unsettling seconds.
She turned around slowly and stared into a familiar pair of smiling green eyes. Stop looking at him Hermione,
she told herself urgently, knowing that thinking and speaking were about to become incredibly difficult.
"Hello," Harry greeted her tenderly, his hand still at her waist
"Hello," she replied softly. She blushed as she realized she was gripping the sleeve of his black waistcoat. They were closer now than that day in the street, and the memory of Harry's kiss intruded on her thoughts. Her body responded strangely and a feverish rushing of blood left her feeling dizzy and faint. She put a hand to her head and tightened her grip on Harry's arm.
Harry noticed the change in her immediately and moved to support her.
"Hermione?" he asked, alarmed.
She tore her eyes away from his. "It's…just crowded in here," she said in breathy whisper. She groaned, realizing that, yes, coherent speech was nearly impossible when he stared at her like he did.
He nodded as he drew her closer. With one hand at her side and the other holding her hand, he led her to a corner away from the hordes of guests and took a seat next to her. Without letting her hand go, he signaled one of the servers to bring them some punch. Hermione awkwardly removed her hand from his when she took her drink.
"Thank you, Harry," she said shyly.
Harry smiled a very warm (for him) smile.
She laughed self-consciously. "You've helped me twice now." She shook her head. "I promise I'm not really this clumsy."
There was a long pause as Harry studied her.
"I don't mind," he finally replied, his voice raw for some reason.
"The house looks lovely, doesn't it?" she asked half-heartedly as she met his gaze.
Harry's eyes never left hers. "I didn't notice."
Hermione swallowed audibly and forced herself to breathe evenly. He was affecting her like no man ever had. And all he was doing was sitting next to her, sharing a drink.
Great goddess, the man barely touched me and I nearly fainted? What would happen if he kissed me again?
An image of a combusting Phoenix popped into her head, and she couldn't help but agree.
Just the memory of the kiss made her body felt like the warm rum punch she was drinking. Images of things she'd only read about suddenly came to mind: his lovely mouth softly embracing hers, teasing and nibbling as he gripped her tightly about the waist; him pulling her flush against him, his hands working the laces of her bodice, his fingers tangling in its knots, her dress bunching around her waist as he lifted her to him…
"Hermione…?" Harry started as he touched her hand, effectively bringing her frenzied fantasy to a screeching halt. As they locked eyes, Harry saw the languid desire in her eyes and whatever was left of his own restraint quickly vanished as well.
She was completely pliant as Harry wrapped his arm around her. Harry stared at her mouth and couldn't help but notice she was staring at his. Unable to stop himself, not wanting to stop himself, Harry leaned forward. His hand gripped her waist almost painfully, but Hermione was too far gone to notice. Her body was pulsing, and her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Inches separated them and Harry seemed intent on bridging them.
A sudden crash shook both of them out of their daze, and they turned to see a few red cloaks laughing at a toppled drink tray. "Nice waste of rum there Seamus," one of the red cloaks chuckled, patting the embarrassed soldier on the back.
Harry turned back to Hermione, who was now on her feet and backing away from him.
"Hermione," Harry said, reaching for her. There was a mixture of guilt and concern in his voice.
She didn't meet his eyes as she shook her head and turned. She gathered her dress in her hands and hurried away, hoping he wouldn't follow. Her eyes were watery and the room became blurry as she made her way through the sea of partygoers.
What am I doing? What's wrong with me? she tearfully moaned to herself. She'd spent her entire life trying to set an example of rationality and self-control to her sisters, and in thirty seconds Harry Potter had completely undone that.
She was so distraught that she nearly collided with her Lavender who was chatting with Ronald Weasley.
"Are you all right Hermione?" Lavender asked as Hermione wiped away a stray tear from her cheek. "You look…um…not happy."
Hermione nodded and flashed fake smile. "It's just so hot in here…and some of the food is rather spicy."
Her whole body felt like it was burning up, so it seemed as good an excuse as any.
Ronald nodded, biting into a bit of duck puff. "You should stay away from the roasted pepper things. They'll set your mouth on fire." He grinned before tearing off another huge bite of pastry and chomping on it.
Well at least I don't need a splash of cold water anymore, Hermione grimly thought. Every ounce of arousal slowly died as she watched Ron Weasley chew.
Someone tapped her on the shoulder. A slight shiver rippled through her as she thought it might be Harry. When she turned, she saw Remus holding out his hand.
"Dancing is about to start Hermione."
Hermione gratefully took his hand and followed him to the dance floor. She stood in a line with the other ladies, and as the minuet started, she took a few steps towards Remus and spun.
Remus pleasantly surprised Hermione. He was a very accommodating partner, evenly guiding her to and from her spot as they weaved in and out of the couples. She was relieved to have a respite from all the early excitement. Dancing was simple. She didn't have to think, which was a good thing because all she could think about at the moment was raven hair and a rough mouth.
The music was lively and all the dancing couples mirthfully giggled and clapped. Hermione did her best to appear engaged and entertained, but Remus noticed the glassy and distant look in her eyes.
When the dance finished, he offered to get punch for them both. She nodded absently and stood in the corner by a window. Its heavy purple drapes billowed onto the floor behind her, casting a silhouette in the firelight. Hermione found herself standing in its shadow as she admired the view of the courtyard.
It wasn't long before she sensed somebody standing behind her. She felt, rather than saw, that it was Harry.
"Beautiful," Harry muttered, ignoring the vista. He was referring to the woman with her back to him.
Hermione didn't turn to face him; instead she kept gazing at the courtyard.
"Yes, it is," she replied. Her voice had no emotion. She felt drained and weak and just wanted him to leave.
Harry reached up for her shoulder, intending to turn her around, but Hermione brushed his hand away.
"Don't," she whispered, not trusting her voice, "Don't touch me."
"Hermione," Harry begged, "Just look at me."
Hermione shook her head. She didn't want to see him, or at least that's what she told herself over and over again.
Harry leaned in over her shoulder, lost in the scent of her vanilla perfume and the softness of her hair. "Please turn around luv. Face me." His voice was deeper now as he nuzzled her neck and cheek.
Hermione's eyes closed as she reveled in his closeness. She leaned back until her shoulders were resting against his chest. Of their own volition, his arms wrapped themselves around her waist, bringing her snug against him.
"Turn around Hermione," he said softly, his lips grazing against her ear.
She shook her head, knowing that if she faced him, she'd be as helpless as before. The room began to spin as his cheek nestled against hers, and her eyes closed as her resolve crumbled.
What's happening to me? This is madness…were her few coherent thoughts.
"Please …." Harry's strained voice reverberated through her. He began to turn her, and this time, she let him.
They stood facing each other, their view of the party partially block by the massive curtains surrounding them. His arms remained fastened round her as she lifted her hands up to his chest. He closed the distance between them, and Hermione braced herself for the feel of his lips. However, Harry merely rested his forehead against hers.
Hermione closed her eyes and exhaled, grateful that he hadn't kissed her. They held each other for a few moments, neither one wanting to let the other go.
"Hermione…" Harry began, not knowing what to say to her. He'd never felt like this; he couldn't put it into words.
Hermione looked up, waiting for him to finish. She suddenly caught a flash of movement over his shoulder and took a step backwards, awkwardly turning to face the window again.
Harry had caught her alarmed glance over his shoulder and turned to see who'd interrupted them.
Remus stepped forward uneasily, holding two glasses of punch.
"Harry?" Remus asked with a hint of accusation.
Harry nodded a stern greeting, which discouraged his friend from asking any further questions.
Remus, puzzled by Harry's tone, spied Hermione's rigid form by the window.
"Hermione, here's your punch." Remus handed her a glass of the pink concoction and didn't fail to notice that her hand shook as she took it.
"Thank you Remus," she said softly, not willing to look at either man. She took a few steps out of the shadow as she sipped her drink.
"My pleasure," Remus said fondly. "I hope we'll get to dance again later."
Hermione smiled politely and nodded as she kept her eyes on her glass.
"Are you enjoying the party Harry?" asked Remus.
Harry stared at Hermione and gave a gruff "yes."
"How do you two know each other?" Hermione asked unevenly, hoping that a conversation would distract her from Harry's proximity.
"Oh, I've known Harry since he was an infant." Remus turned toward him. "I have a few stories I could tell you…" Remus teased, but seeing that Harry didn't look amused, Remus cleared his throat and continued on a different track. "Harry is Sir Sirius Black's godson."
"Really?" Aunt Aurora had failed to mention that.
Harry nodded. "Sirius Black was my father's best friend. He raised me after my father passed away."
"Oh…I'm sorry Harry," Hermione said sincerely. She wanted to say more, but Harry seemed eager to change the subject. He asked Remus about some member of the House of Black in the area, and for a second, Hermione was alone with her thoughts.
She knew what it was like to lose a parent, and when she looked at Harry, she couldn't help but think that the death of his parents may've had something to do with his mildly antisocial tendencies.
Antisocial but not entirely unpleasant tendencies…Hermione had to admit with a blush.
But at the mention of Harry's father, her thoughts invariably went back to Viktor Krum's accusation that Harry had disobeyed his father's last wishes and had begrudged a poor Muggle-born his inheritance.
It's as if he has two completely different sides. Hermione thought. What am I to feel about such a man? How could I possibly like him…or even love him?
…Love him?
Hermione choked on her punch and forced it down with a cough or two.
Forgetting his conversation with Remus, Harry was at her side in an instant, rubbing her back as she gave a weak cough and set her punch on the window ledge.
Remus cocked a smile at his young friend's tender actions. "Are you all right Hermione?" Remus asked good-naturedly.
Hermione nodded, a little embarrassed.
Harry was concerned and continued to rub her back even as the coughing subsided.
"Should I get you anything?" Harry asked in a low voice.
Hermione smiled and shook her head, dispelling her previous thoughts and newly intent on ignoring Harry's closeness. She was known for her intelligence and self-discipline, and she could certainly control herself around Harry Potter.
I just need to focus on my surroundings and pay no mind to how good his back rubbing feels....
Remus suggested that they all sit down, but Hermione insisted she was fine.
"I'm just a little…off tonight," she admitted, refusing to look at Harry.
Meanwhile, Tonks had noticed the fuss, and came to join her cousin, practically shoving Harry aside to do so.
"Hermione, what's wrong? Did you eat one of those roasted pepper things? Because, wow, they hurt." Tonks was going to tell Hermione about how she had to spit one out into a potted plant, but Tonks caught Remus's eye and quickly grew quiet.
"I'm fine Tonks…er…Nymphadora."
Tonks shook her head. "It's ok. Remus knows I hate that name. Right, Remus?" She grinned at Remus, who smiled back.
"I think 'Nymphadora' is lovely," Remus admitted.
"Really?" Tonks asked, surprised. "Well, maybe if you're nice to me, I'll let you call me by my first name…" Normally Tonks would punctuate the line with a wriggling of her eyebrows or some insinuating gesture, but (since she was trying to impress Lupin) she simply smiled sweetly and patted her cousin's shoulder.
Tonks turned to the man standing beside her. "And you must be Harry Potter."
Harry nodded.
Tonks gave a wicked smile.
Hermione recognized that look. Please Tonks…No…gods, Hermione groaned under her breath.
"Hermione's told me soooo much about you," Tonks announced with an evil glee.
"She has?" Harry looked at Hermione, amused.
Tonks nodded, disregarding Hermione's glare. "Yup. You made quite an impression on our little Mione…Ouch!" Tonks rubbed the spot where Hermione's elbow had connected with her side.
"The music's starting Nymphadora." Hermione spoke through gritted teeth. "Don't you have to go dance?" Or just go away...she silently added
Tonks sadly shook her head. "Alas, I have no dance partner." She looked pathetically at Remus, who took the hint and asked her for a dance. He shot Harry a strange look before the two departed for the dance floor.
Hermione watched the couple and rubbed her forehead, already feeling her Tonks-headache starting. "Someday I'm going to accidentally curse that girl…oh, wait, no," Hermione stammered, realizing Harry could hear her. "I mean, I won't really. It's just that she says things and …and she just drives me crazy."
"I know what you mean," Harry leaned in conspiratorially. "Ron's the same way. He's always blurting out the most embarrassing things."
Hermione nodded. "And it's always in public."
"And it's always in front of the person you least want to hear it," Harry said in a frustrated tone.
"And then she does something silly immediately afterward which makes it impossible for you to stay mad at her."
"Exactly!" Harry exclaimed. He was glad someone understood what it was like having Ron for a best friend.
They shared a grin and fell into an amiable silence, looking on as Remus and Tonks laughed and chatted as they danced. Tonks glanced over at Hermione and wiggled her eyebrows. Hermione cracked a smile and shook her head, hating that she always humored the antics of her cousin.
"Would you like to dance?" Harry asked suddenly, refusing to look at her.
Hermione turned to him, somewhat startled. She noticed that his hands were balled into nervous fists at his sides.
She nodded and made an affirmative noise without meeting his eyes. She excused herself, touching his sleeve as she headed toward her sister Luna. Her encouraging gesture wasn't lost on Harry, who gazed after her until she was out of sight.
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