Chapter Eight
THE CHRISTMAS DANCE
His time alone in the dormitory did nothing to solve the jumble of questions and thoughts in Ron's head. He'd left Harry and Hermione just under an hour before, and he was about to give up on thinking and go to sleep when the door opened.
"Ron?" whispered Harry in the darkness. "Are you still awake?"
Ron sat up in bed. There wasn't any use denying it. "Yeah," he said finally, "I'm awake. Did you and Hermione get through all the pictures?"
"Oh, yeah, we did," said Harry quietly, and Ron could hear him fumbling around in the dark for his pajamas. "Right after you left, actually. We talked for awhile afterwards."
"Really?" said Ron. "Did you ask her yet?"
"Did I ask her what yet?" The fumbling stopped, and Ron heard a slight creak as Harry climbed into his four-poster.
"You said you were going to ask her to the dance," said Ron. "Have you yet?"
"Not yet." There was a long silence.
"Are you still going to?" Ron wanted to know.
"I'm not sure," confessed Harry. "I want to, but it might be a little weird."
"You should do it," advised Ron. "It's not like you won't be spending most of the evening with her, anyway. I'll be with Anna, and the two of you will be talking or whatever together."
"Then why do I have to ask her?" said Harry.
"Just-just do it," said Ron impatiently. "She'll be happy to know you were thinking about her. Or something like that."
"How reassuring," muttered Harry, and he rolled over. "G'night, Ron."
"You still haven't told me if you're going to do it or not," pressed Ron.
"I am," said Harry. "Good night," he said again, more pointedly this time.
"G'night," repeated Ron, and he fell promptly asleep.
* * *
For fifth year students and above, breakfast on Saturday mornings was optional, which allowed both Harry and Ron to sleep in later than usual. Harry pulled himself out of bed when he heard everyone else pouring back in the dormitory after breakfast, but Ron remained fast asleep. A lot of the other fifth, sixth, and seventh year boys that had opted out of breakfast were all heading to the showers at that time, so Harry grabbed his things and made use of the prefect bathroom.
"Harry!"
Harry had just finished getting dressed and was on his way back to Gryffindor Tower to find Hermione when he heard his name being called. He turned around to see Anna standing behind him.
"Hey Anna," he greeted her. "If it's Ron you're looking for, he's still out like a log up in our room. I wouldn't expect to see him any time much before lunch."
Anna sighed. "All well," she said finally. "Do you know if he's going to Hogsmead this afternoon?"
Harry stopped completely. He'd completely forgotten about the afternoon trip into Hogsmead that day. "I really don't know," he confessed. "I'd forgotten about it completely. I don't know if Ron's going or not. Why?"
"Well," started Anna, who blushed slightly. "He finally asked me-officially, at least-to the Christmas Dance yesterday, and I don't have dress robes yet, so I'm getting them this afternoon, and I don't want him hovering around while I'm trying to shop."
Harry laughed. "Smart girl. Ron will be more than happy to let you do your own thing, if he's even up when everyone leaves!"
Anna grinned. "Good point," she said. "Thank you, Harry, I'll see you later."
Harry waved as she headed back down the hallway, and he headed back to the Gryffindor Tower. He needed to find Hermione and had a good idea of where she'd be. Sure enough, she was curled up in the prefect common room with a book.
"Hey `Mione," said Harry, trying to get her attention. He knew she had a tendency to tune everything else out while she was reading.
"Hmm?" she muttered.
"Hermione," Harry tried again, sitting down next to her. There was no response at all that time, so he finally waved one hand in front of her eyes and covered part of the book page with his other. "I promise this won't take but a second."
Hermione finally looked up. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, shutting the book so fast he barely had time to get his hand out of the way. "I didn't even realize you were there."
"No problem," said Harry, grinning, and he took a deep breath. If he was going to do this, it would have to be now.
"Well, I was thinking, if you weren't planning on going with someone else, I thought you might go to the Christmas Dance with me?" said Harry. "Just as friends, you know," he added quickly.
To his surprised, Hermione smiled. "I'd like that. Thank you, Harry." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and he had to fight to keep from blushing.
* * *
The next two weeks flew by. Originally, the Christmas Dance was to take place on Christmas Day, just as the Yule Ball had. However, the castle had begun to show some signs of disrepair and grime, and Filch, the caretaker, had demanded a thorough cleaning over the holidays. For that reason, the date of the dance had been pushed back several days, so more students would go home for the break. Harry, Ron, and Hermione still put their names down as staying, but they were some of the few.
The term ended on a Friday, the nineteenth of December, and the dance was planned for the next day. The majority of Hogwarts students would be returning home that Sunday. Nearly everyone year four and up was go. Ron was obviously going with Anna, and Harry and Hermione were going together. Neville seemed to find his perfect match with a slightly clumsy fourth year Hufflepuff, and Justin Finch-Fletchley had asked Ginny. To everyone's surprise, she had said yes. As for Ron's twin brothers, Fred was taking his girlfriend, Angelina Johnson, while George was going with Alicia Spinnet, but only as friends.
On Saturday morning, very few opted out of breakfast, and the Great Hall was abuzz with excited talk about the dance that night. There were, however, a few glum faces in the mix, mostly on those who had become ineligible for the dance on behalf of their behavior. Even the younger kids, most of who were not attending, seemed excited. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had put together separate activities to amuse them with that evening.
"What are those two whispering about?" said Ron quietly, leaning towards Harry. Hermione and Anna, who had worked her way over to the Gryffindor table halfway through the meal, were engaging in their own private conversation. An occasional laugh burst through the whispers.
Harry shrugged, taking another bite of his toast. "If you really want to know, I'd ask them," he joked. Ron didn't seem to catch that part.
"What are you two going on about?" asked Ron through a mouthful of food. Both Anna and Hermione broke off, looked up, and giving him a disapproving look.
"That," said Hermione, "is something for you to find out later."
"And find out later, you will," added Anna with the wave of her hand. She turned back to Hermione, and the two girls started talking again as if nothing had interrupted them in the first place.
"Girls," muttered Ron, and Harry laughed.
"You always say that," he said. "If you really want to know what they're talking about, my best guess is that it's the same thing everyone else here is."
"The Christmas Dance?" said Ron, nearly grimacing.
"Don't say it so glumly," said Harry. "I thought you were looking forward to it!"
"I was," said Ron, his voice taking on the same glum tone, "then I opened my trunk this morning to fetch my dress robes, and I remembered that they have to be unraveling and maroon."
Harry looked immediately down the table to Fred and George, who were laughing and joking with Angelina and Alicia. He remembered full well instructing them to get Ron a new set of dress robes when he gave them his winnings from the Triwizard Tournament. He nearly sighed, but he remembered that Ron knew nothing of that.
"It won't be that bad," said Harry reassuringly. "Anna isn't going to care about it, and her opinion is the only one that really matters, right?"
"Right," agreed Ron, but he was still frowning. "She'll be look smashing, and I'll be stuck in my secondhand maroon dress."
"It really will be okay," said Harry, trying once more to cheer him up.
"Easy for you to say," grumbled Ron. "Your set is perfectly fine."
"Ron-" started Harry, but he was interrupted by Dumbledore dismissing everyone from the meal. Ron stood up immediately, and he headed in the direction of Gryffindor tower before Harry could hardly blink. He looked down at his plate and shook his head.
"What's wrong with Ron?" asked Hermione suddenly. She and Anna were both looking in the direction that Ron had just disappeared in.
Harry shrugged. "I think he's a little nervous about tonight. He's embarrassed by his dress robes."
Hermione cringed, but Anna looked confused.
"I'm sure they're fine," she said. "He shouldn't be worried. It's not like I'm going to care."
"I tried to tell him that." Harry shook his head. "Ron's stubborn, but he'll come around. I'll see you guys later. I better go find him."
Harry headed off in the direction of Gryffindor, following closely behind the Weasley twins. Most everyone else was still finishing breakfast. Suddenly, George turned around and gave Harry a big grin.
"Harry!" he exclaimed. "Is Ron up in your room?"
"I assume so," said Harry, quickening his pace to catch up with them. "He took off from breakfast as soon as Dumbledore dismissed everyone. He's a little nervous about tonight."
"Aww," said Fred, "little Ronnie shouldn't be worried."
"We know what's bugging him," added George.
"And we'll be taking care of that right away," finished Fred, "with an early Christmas present." He clapped Harry's bag, and George winked at him. The two of them took off so quickly that Harry was left standing in the hallway, confused. He shrugged it off, and he headed toward the Gryffindor Tower at a leisurely pace.
* * *
Just as Harry reached the hallway of the boy's dormitory, Fred and George were leaving their room, a wrapped package in Fred's hands.
"Harry!" called George, and once more he headed over to them.
"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing to the package. He noticed its wrappings were covered in a festive, Christmas print of deep reds and greens. It was wrapped in the same manner that Ron wrapped things, with lots of tape and extra paper.
"Ron's Christmas present," explained Fred. "It seems that we made you a promise last summer on the Hogwarts Express-"
"-And we Weasleys always keep our promises," finished George. "So if you'll excuse us, we have a package to deliver."
Harry stepped aside, and Fred threw open the door to he and Ron's room. Ron was sitting on his bed, the curtains pulled aside, flipping through a book about the Chudley Cannons.
"Hey Harry," said Ron, squinting down into the book. He did not look up.
"I'm not Harry," declared Fred, bursting into the room with George on his heels. He plopped down on the edge of Ron's bed, knocking his book off in the process.
"We heard you're feeling down, Ron," said George slyly.
"Shut up, you two," said Ron angrily. "Who let you in, anyway?"
"We let ourselves in," said George.
"Don't get mad at us," added Fred, "because we come bearing gifts." He shoved the package in Ron's direction. "It's your Christmas present-"
"-But you won't have much use for it after Christmas," explained George, "so we want you to open it now!"
"So hurry along now!" exclaimed Fred.
Ron gave them suspicious looks, but he was already tearing into the paper. "What-what's this?" he stammered, lifting out a bit of cloth in a deep rust color.
"Merry Christmas, Ron!" exclaimed both twins at once. Then George added, "It's a new set of dress robes. We thought you might like that as much as anything."
With a wink and a grin, the twins were out of the room before Ron could even finish stammering his thanks. He turned to Harry, who was grinning nearly as much as the twins.
"Were you in on this?" asked Ron.
Harry shook his head. "I didn't know they were going to do this, if that's what you mean."
Ron nodded. "They aren't that bad," he said, "as brothers, you know. They can be pretty cool every now and then."
"I believe it." Harry smiled. "Come on, let's get out of here. It's a beautiful day outside, and there's no need to spend it inside."
* * *
"Duck, Harry!" said Hermione, shrilly. He did as he was told, and a snowball whizzed by, just above his ear. In no time, he was standing again, packing another snowball. Next to him, Ron stumbled as three different snowballs flew at him from a variety of directions.
"Thanks Hermione!" he called, and Ron gave him a high five as his volley knocked Snape right in the face. The moment of victory, however, was short lived because they had to drop to the ground to avoid being pelted by Slytherin snowballs.
"I can't believe old Dumbledore had it in him," said Lee Jordan, who was on Harry's other side. "A snowball fight for the entire school? That's my idea of a good time!"
"It would be," said Lavender. She had retreated into the background with several of her friends. "I, however, wasn't planning on being drenched in the snow today."
"Oh, live a little, Lavender!" exclaimed Hermione, giggling as she watched the Weasley twins create a sort of slingshot out of thin air. She was standing right behind Harry, using him as a shield from the flying snow. She bent down behind her, working on her own snowball.
"What's that up there?" she asked suddenly. She pointed in the direction of one of the trees on the Slytherin side. Harry squinted, trying to block out the sun. Sure enough, it looked like something large and dark gray was perched in the tree.
"I'm not sure," confessed Harry. "It's probably one of the Slytherins, but I can't figure out why they'd want someone up a tree, especially one that far back."
"They probably got scared of getting hit!" said Hermione gleefully, as one of her snowballs his someone on the other side. It was the first time it had happened during the game. Harry gave her a thumbs up and a smile.
"Ready," said Ron a few minutes later, pulling back on the twins' creation.
"Aim," said Fred, from one side of the slingshot.
"Fire!" called George, and Ron did as he was told. The massive collection of snow tumbled down around Snape, and the three brothers let loose cheers and excited shoots.
"Ooh, they're mad now," observed Harry. Snape had fallen back into the snow, and he did not look happy. Several of the older Slytherins had assembled around him, and a few were shaking their fists angrily.
"Snape's madder," said Ron grimly. "There's going to be hell to pay when we have to go back to his class every day."
"No time to worry about that," called Fred cheerfully. "Gryffindor's pride is at stake. Times like these require sacrifice."
Hermione started to laugh, but a snowball caught her in the cheek at about that moment. Harry turned back and grabbed her hand to keep her from stumbling.
"Just fine!" she exclaimed. Harry grinned, ducking under the makeshift wall of snow. The snowball that flew over his head landed perfectly intact, and he picked it up and hurled it back. From about ten feet away, even their stern housemaster seemed to be getting into it.
"That's the spirit!" called Professor McGonagall as a snowball nearly knocked down the Slytherin flag. The entire snowball fight had been Dumbledore's idea, meant to entertain everyone in the hours before the dance. It would be over when three of the house flags fell, and an hour and a half into the fight, only Slytherin and Gryffindor remained standing. The majority of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students remained outside, with Ravenclaw cheering for Slytherin because Gryffindor had taken down their flag; Hufflepuff cheered for Gryffindor because Slytherin had knocked theirs down-in the first fifteen minutes.
Ron and Harry shared a smile. "She just likes to win," said Ron, causing everyone who heard him to laugh. He scrambled back to the twins, who were getting ready to launch their third volley.
"On the count of three," said George. "One-two-three!"
It worked beautifully. It nearly knocked over the boy Slytherin had appointed to guard the flag, giving Ron a chance to grab a snowball from Harry and knock the flag over. Immediately, cheers rang out as the Gryffindors gathered around each other, hollering about their victory.
"I just love Christmas here," breathed Hermione as they began to file back towards the castle. "I think this is going to be the best one yet."
"I agree," said Harry. "I just don't know how the dance will live up to that."
"I think it will better," argued Hermione, "even though I must admit, it was very satisfying to see Professor Snape get clobbered with snow."
"That was the best part," said Harry. It was so cold that he could see his breath. Behind he and Hermione, Ron and Anna were having a bit of a lover's quarrel.
"You show no mercy!" she was exclaiming. "I was watching, Ronald Weasley. I know full well that it was you who took down our flag."
Ron shrugged. "It was every house for itself. I had to do it."
"You didn't have to do it in the first half hour of the game!" exclaimed Anna, swatting at him. Ron responded by wrapping his arm around her waist.
"Why do I have a feeling they're going to be all over each other in a minute?" whispered Harry grimly. Hermione laughed.
"Because they probably will be?" suggested Hermione. She shivered. "Actually, they won't. Anna said she needs my help getting ready, so I'm sneaking her into Gryffindor again."
They filed back into the castle together, Anna and Ron right behind them. Sure enough, the first thing that Anna did was check the clock.
"Five already?" she exclaimed.
"Don't tell me you need two hours to get ready," groaned Ron.
"Two?" said Hermione slyly, raising an eyebrow. "Two isn't nearly enough!"
* * *
"Are they ever going to come down?" complained Ron, glancing at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. Harry reached over and grabbed his hand.
"Stop it," he commanded. "It's still ten minutes until seven. You're driving me nuts. What do you have to be so anxious about, anyway?"
"I'm curious to know what they're doing to themselves up there," explained Ron. "I mean, sure, they look nice when they emerge two or three hours later, but I don't see how all that takes so much time."
"That," said George, materializing behind Harry and Ron, "is one of the secrets of women that we are not to know."
"Ever," added Fred. "It would be betraying some higher power."
The doors to the girls' dormitory had opened now, and the girls were filing down the stairs in groups, but there wasn't any sign of Hermione or Anna. Angelina was one of the first girls to come out, and Fred waved as he led her off. George did the same with Alicia a few moments later, and Ginny gave Harry and Ron a nervous look as she headed down to meet Justin. They were giving her their assurances when Hermione and Anna appeared.
"Harry!"
Harry turned around at the sound of his name, and he could barely believe his eyes when he saw Hermione. She was wearing the same periwinkle-blue robes she had the year before, just as Harry was wearing his green robes. However, he hadn't expected with her to bother with her hair for him, and she had. Instead of the knot, however, Hermione's usually bushy hair had been combed in to soft, elegant curls that fell around her face and down her back. She had a sweet smile on her face.
"Hermione! You look-" exclaimed Harry, knowing his cheeks had to be a very deep shade of red. "You look beautiful."
Hermione blushed, too. "Thank you," she said sincerely, taking his hand. "You look nice, too, Harry."
"None of us look that much different than we normally do," admitted Harry, gesturing to the boys still waiting around in the common room.
"You do too," insisted Hermione. "You all look a bit-er, cleaner-than usual, and it's amazing what a difference a little color makes. For instance, that green only makes your eyes look greener, if that's even possible."
Harry blushed, but Hermione had fortunately looked over to Ron. He was still gaping at Anna, who was dressed in a deep blue color. Ron was wearing his new robes, which were a deep rust color.
"He looks nice," said Hermione approvingly. "I see he ditched the lacy maroon robes."
"Yeah, Fred and George-" Harry stopped, catching the secretive smile working its way onto Hermione's face. "You knew all along, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did," she confessed, "and so did Anna. The two of us helped Fred and George pick them out one afternoon in Hogsmead. They told me about the money."
Harry blushed again. "I didn't need it."
"I know you didn't," said Hermione, taking his hand again. The two walked towards the portrait hole together. "Fred and George still can't get over the fact that you gave it to them. They're going to do it-I really think they'll make that joke shop happen."
"Good," said Harry, helping Hermione through the portrait hole. The Fat Lady gave them an approving nod.
"Very lovely, very lovely! You all look so lovely!" she muttered, reaching for a tissue at the bottom of the painting. "It's so nice to see everyone all dressed up-such a nice change from the way you ragamuffins usually run around-run along, run along now, and have a good time."
Harry and Hermione waved their good-byes and quickly reached the mass of students waiting to enter the Great Hall. Just as they reached the edge of the group, a clock somewhere started announcing the hour, and the doors swung open with the seventh chime.
The Great Hall had been transformed. The huge Christmas trees had been decorated with exotic looking scarlet flowers, and the ceiling was changing more rapidly than usually, displaying one glimmering constellation after another. Rich looking garlands wrapped around to every wall, and the entire hall had a wonderful, warm, pine smell. The two middle tables-Gryffindor and Hufflepuff-had been removed, and food had been stacked in glorious displays on the Slytherin table, while the Ravenclaw table was covered with elegant tablecloths and candelabras. A small assembly of the house ghosts, led by Nearly Headless Nick, was playing a beautiful orchestral piece, and an ice sculpture had been brought in and set in place of the staff table. It was hard to miss Madame Maxime and Hagrid because they were both taller than it, and it was also hard to miss the bright smile on Madame Maxime's face.
"Wow," breathed Hermione. "It's gorgeous!"
Harry could only nod. He had been thinking the same thing. The entire room seemed to burst with Christmas cheer. Already, the students had broken off into little groups. Some were already at the table with their meals, but most were standing around, talking to their friends. After a few minutes, the flow of students into the hall had stopped, and the doors shut again as Dumbledore called everyone's attention to the center of the room.
"I will make this brief," he stated, "for I know you are all excited to get on with the evening. We have a glorious buffet set up that will be replenished several times throughout the night. For the first half hour, our music will be provided by our own orchestra of house ghosts. They agreed to `deejay' our extravaganza on the condition they were allowed to provide some of the music. Finally, be careful if you venture into the back part of the room-you might be in for a bit of surprise."
Harry felt someone tap his arm. "It's mistletoe," admonished Ron. "George and Alicia already found out about it the hard way. Peeves put it up-he's throwing things at anyone that tries to sneak away without kissing."
"That sounds like something Peeves would enjoy," said Hermione with a laugh. "Thank you for the warning, Ron."
"I'm not going to take it," whispered Ron as Anna tugged him in the direction of a group of Ravenclaw boys to meet her older brother. He winked at them before shooting them a look of fright. Harry and Hermione began to laugh.
"'Arry an' `Ermione!" called a booming voice behind them. It could only be one person.
"Hagrid!" said Hermione, smiling as she turned around. Harry smiled, too.
"Yeh both look real nice," said Hagrid. "Do yeh like the ice sculp'ure? I knew Olympe `ad `em at `eauxbatons, an' ay `anted to do somethin' to remind `er of it. Carved it meself."
"It's gorgeous, Hagrid, just like everything in here," said Hermione sincerely.
"It is," said Harry. He gestured around to the garlands everywhere. "Are you responsible for those, too?"
"Yeh, ay'm," said Hagrid with a wide grin. "It was all meh idea. I did it out of the `orest."
"It looks great," smiled Harry, "and it smells even better!"
Hagrid beamed. Then, he looked around nervously and bent down to them. "I got somethin' ter tell yeh," he whispered. "Meh and Olympe, well, things `ave been goin' real well between us. I got somethin' ter ask her, and I might do it ternight."
"Hagrid!" exclaimed both Harry and Hermione at the same time, catching onto what he was talking about. He blushed, but he smiled, too.
"Good luck," said Harry, and Hermione gave him a great hug. Hagrid was beaming again.
"Yeh'll beh the first ter know when ay've done it," he said, giving them a thumbs up before saying good-bye and walking back to Madam Maxime.
"Oh, I do hope things work out for him!" exclaimed Hermione. "Hagrid deserves to be happy."
"He does," agreed Harry. "He does so much for everyone here-teaches class, maintains the grounds, watches over things, runs errands for Dumbledore. It's hard not to like him."
"Not if you're a Slytherin," said Hermione coolly. She pointed in the direction of Madam Maxime and Hagrid, who were dancing around in slow circles. He'd just brushed up against Pansy Parkinson, and she was glaring at him and wiping at her robes as if they were contaminated. "Malfoy managed to turn every single one of them against Hagrid, it seems."
"Too true," said Harry grimly. "It's their own loss, though, if they're dumb enough to have listened to him."
Hermione stifled a giggle. She and Harry wondered around for a good hour, talking to everyone from the Weasley twins to Neville. They'd gotten a good laugh at Snape dancing sullenly with Professor Trelawny when she asked him, and they nearly got knocked over when Fred and Angelina managed to get everyone to tango. Looking back, however, they both agreed that the best moment came later that evening, when Dumbledore got at least three-quarters of the staff on the floor in a line dance, including the unwilling and finally enchanted Professor Snape. It was half past eight when everyone began to tire of dancing and head to the buffet table. Harry and Hermione hadn't danced yet, but they headed over to the table behind Anna and Ron. Ron looked nervous.
"He's afraid of my brother," whispered Anna with a snicker. "He keeps muttering about giants. I guess I forgot to mention that John is even taller than Ron! I don't know why he's so scared, though-John liked him!"
Harry and Hermione both laughed as they picked up plates at one end of the table; the food didn't start for several more feet. "I didn't know you had a brother, Anna," said Hermione.
"Oh, I actually have five," said Anna, pointing to a group of boys hanging out near the mistletoe corner. "John's the last one at Hogwarts, though. He's one of those brilliant ones trying to get kisses beneath the mistletoe."
"You didn't have to make me meet him tonight," Ron was still muttering. "I was having a nice evening. I really was. Then I meet your brother. He's probably standing over there, contemplating how to kill me and where to put the body."
Anna popped him with the back of her hand. "Oh, John wouldn't hurt a fly," she said. "He probably doesn't even know how. He's scared of me half the time, convinced my friend Lena is plotting against him."
"I should have listened to Fred and George," said Ron sadly. "They warned me that your older brother was superhuman, and I didn't believe them."
The two of them sat down together, continuing to banter. Harry and Hermione shared a look as they sat down.
"I think they've tuned us out," said Harry as Anna and Ron launched into a heated debate about former Chudley Cannons. "I've followed different Quidditch teams more and more since the World Cup, and I don't even know what they're talking about."
"You?" said Hermione. "What about me? I get confused when you start naming the different positions! The only person whose role I'm sure of is the Seeker, and that's because you're one!"
Harry looked at her, astonished. "How do you follow the games, then?"
"I just nod and pretend to understand everything being announced." Hermione shrugged. "Then, I stand to cheer when everyone else does. Besides, I'm hopeless on a broomstick, and I'm hopeless in any sport I've ever tried. I highly doubt Quidditch would be my calling."
"You don't know what you're missing," declared Harry. "Has anyone ever even explained the game to you?"
Hermione shook her head. "And I felt stupid asking, so I read all I could about it, but it was one of those things that I just couldn't absorb."
"It's really very easy to understand," said Harry, and he briefly explained how the game was played and what each position was responsible for doing. When he finished, Hermione was actually smiling and nodding with understanding.
"Now," she said with a laugh, "looking back, I think I would understand everything I've missed."
Harry grinned. "Then the next thing I have to teach you is how to ride a broomstick."
"I think I'll pass," said Hermione. "Just the thought of it makes me feel queasy."
Harry shook his head, remembering that he had a meal in front of him, and started to eat again. Anna and Ron were still in their own little world, so he and Hermione started to talk on their own. It didn't seem to matter what they tried to talk about, though, because they always ended up talking about seeing Malfoy back on campus nearly a month before. They had worked with the Belwit Curse so much in Professor Lupin's class that they no longer thought Malfoy was responsible for what happened at the Quidditch match. It was a difficult curse to perform; even Hermione had trouble getting it perfect.
"What about Halloween though?" asked Hermione, lowering her voice as a group of Slytherin girls sat down near her with their dinners. The table had filled with students fast, and there weren't many seats left.
"I really don't think Malfoy did any of it," said Harry finally. "He likes to gloat about things he's done, especially if he wasn't supposed to be doing them. Don't you think we would have heard something from him sooner if he was responsible?"
"You have a good point," said Hermione, chewing thoughtfully. She swallowed. "I just-well, I can't come up with any other reason as why he'd want his wand back."
"More important than that," said Harry, "is why he would bother returning it to you after he took it. Whatever happened to it?"
"Dumbledore took it from him again, and he did give it back to me. He said something about alerting him immediately if it happened to go missing again." Hermione sighed. "The whole reason I'd put it so securely away in the first place is because I didn't want it constantly reminding me of him. I didn't want to gloat about him getting expelled. Now, I feel like I should be watching over it. I just wish Dumbledore would keep it."
"You should tell him that," reasoned Harry. "He'd understand."
"I don't know," said Hermione. "I just want to forget it ever happened."
Harry nodded. He reached across the table and squeezed her hand silently. She smiled at him. "Do whatever makes you comfortable," said Harry.
"Thanks for your assurances," said Hermione softly. She pulled her hand back, noticing her bracelet was about to come unclasped. When she went to fix it, the sleeve of her robes fell back, exposing her forearm. It suddenly dawned on Harry that he hadn't seen her in anything but long sleeves since she had left the hospital, and he immediately understood why. The skin that had been touched with the Forveret Bursen was still an ugly shade of red, and it looked like a crackled scab running up her arm. Hermione shoved her sleeve back down as quickly as it had fallen up, but it was too late.
"Ew!" exclaimed Pansy Parkinson, who had taken the seat next to her, and she moved away from Hermione. "That is so disgusting! What is wrong with you?"
"Oh Pansy," said the girl next to her with a hateful laugh, "don't be silly. It's those burns from Potions. I thought you got out of class for two months to lounge around the hospital wing, Granger."
"Don't worry about it, Daisy," said another girl. She had thick black hair and was wearing expensive pink robes. She looked down her nose toward Hermione. "She was already an unattractive Mudblood, it's not going to make any difference."
Hermione recoiled with each remark, and more of the girls seemed to be staring at her now. The second girl, apparently named Daisy, scrunched up her nose again.
"Silly me," she said. She looked haughtily at Hermione for a second time. "No wonder no one likes you. As if getting Malfoy expelled wasn't enough!"
"It should have been her that got expelled," said a fourth girl. She was disgustingly skinny, with beady black eyes. "I can't believe they let people like that come here in the first place!"
Tears had begun to well up in Hermione's eyes, and she lost it with the last comment. She rushed out of the Great Hall, tears streaming down her face. Harry was still staring at the girls, dumbfounded.
"What is your problem?" Harry suddenly demanded. He couldn't believe they'd had the nerve to say those things to Hermione. "Why do you all think you're so much better than she is?"
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Maybe because we are?" she offered. "What, is she your girlfriend now, Harry?"
"No," said Harry, taking a deep breath, "but she is one of my best friends." He stopped, wanting to say more, but he could deal with them later. Harry was more worried about finding Hermione and seeing if she was okay.
* * *
Harry found Hermione out in the courtyard, sitting on the wall of the turned-off-for-winter fountain. She had her face buried in her hands, and she trembled every few seconds. At that moment, he could have killed the girls for what they'd said about her.
"Hermione?" he said softly, walking over to her. She looked up at him, her face tearstained. Wordlessly, he sat down next to her, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her head in his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," managed Hermione finally. She was still crying, and her words sounded chocked.
"Don't be sorry," ordered Harry. "You don't need to be."
"Yes, I do," insisted Hermione quietly. She pulled away from him suddenly. "I should have told you what a repulsive date partner you managed to pick for the dance."
"Hermione, they just don't like you. Nothing they said was true," said Harry softly. Hermione had looked down, and he touched her chin gently and made her look up at him. He gave her a long look. "You are not repulsive. I don't want to hear you say that ever again."
Hermione sniffled. "Harry," she said, "you don't understand. It's not just my arm. It's all over my shoulder and my back. It is disgusting, and I've known that for a long time."
"It's not nearly as bad as you think," said Harry. "I'm more worried about it still hurting you than how it looks."
"It's not like it matters. I was unattractive to start with."
"You were not. `Mione, you're one of the prettiest girls I know, and I'm not just saying that to make you feel better. It's not what's on the outside, anyway-your cleverness, your personality-those things make you attractive," said Harry sincerely, but then he grinned. "But even if you were dead annoying, I'd still think you were pretty. Now come on, look at me. I'm not going to let you believe what those girls in there said."
Hermione looked at him, and he was thankful to see she had stopped crying. He put his arm around her again, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.
"You know what I think it is?" he said finally.
"What?"
"I think they're still mad about our Potions test," said Harry, grinning. "The one time Snape said he'd curve a test, you get a perfect score!"
Hermione managed a smile, a real one this time. Despite the cold, they sat there like that for a long time. From inside the castle, Dumbledore's booming voice eventually announced that the next song would be the last. Harry swallowed hard, and, even though his mind was still working through it, he decided to take a risk. He stood, clutched both of Hermione's hands, and pulled her up as well.
"Harry," she asked, obviously caught off guard, "what are you doing?"
"Come on, `Mione," he urged. "It's the last dance." The first chords of the last song were already drifting out of the school.
"Don't be silly, Harry," said Hermione. "We'll never get back inside before the song is over."
"We don't have to," said Harry. Before she could say another word, he had one of her hands in his and had pulled her closer with the other. Hermione finally seemed to understand what he was getting at, and she put both of her arms around his neck. Harry pulled her closer, and Hermione rested her head against his shoulder.
It was their first and last dance of the evening, and they stayed like that for a long time, even after the last note of music had faded away.
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