In Which Hermione Jean Granger Works on Her Revenge Plan and Gets Further Sabotaged
Everything was set into motion, more or less. Hermione could already envision how the evening would unfold, and it promised to be absolutely perfect. She had selected a dazzling, sparkling golden dress for the party, snugly hugging her body and reflecting the current muggle trend—a daring choice not typically embraced by proper pureblood girls, but ideal for showcasing her figure. Lavender had eagerly agreed to style her hair, promising to transform her curls into a cascade of perfect ringlets. Hermione was confident she would have an incredible time, knowing her presence would undoubtedly be the talk of the event—there was no question about it.
Fred and George had owled her last night to confirm her date would arrive around ten pm for them to meet there. The only problem was, that she still couldn't quite place who he was or what he actually looked like. Even Ginny and Lavender didn't have much memory of him. After an hour spent combing through the library for a yearbook, they finally succeeded, though the picture was too tiny to discern any details. The only thing she could make out from that grainy photo was that he was tall.
Despite the lack of a clear image, Hermione had already painted a mental picture of him: charming, ridiculously handsome—the perfect companion for her grand entrance. They might even hit it off beyond the party, but that wasn’t her focus; she wasn’t ready to move on from Draco just yet. The fact that she’d gone to such lengths for this plan showed she wasn’t ready for something new. No, what this was about, what mattered, was the spectacle. She would walk to the dance floor on Graham's arm, and they would dance, turning every head in the room.
And then, finally, Draco would see her.
He would turn and see her with her date for the first time. He would take in her radiant beauty, her handsome and tall date, and realize, all at once, how badly he had messed up. Hermione imagined the look of shock on his face, the way his jaw would drop and his eyes would widen. He would be devastated, she was sure of it. She could see him, standing there, eyes filling with tears as the realization hit him like a Bludger to the chest.
She pictured herself walking past him, close enough for him to catch a whiff of her perfume, her head held high and a confident smile playing on her lips. Graham would be the perfect gentleman, guiding her through the crowd, making her laugh, and showing everyone just how much fun she was having.
Everything seemed set up just right. But to make sure everything went smoothly, Hermione knew she had to step up her game with her appearance. She decided to stop crying first and foremost. She happily joined in the girls' night beauty routine, figuring a little extra help couldn't hurt. She also made sure to hit the hay at a decent hour—no way she was showing up with dark circles under her eyes.
When she woke up, feeling surprisingly refreshed and somewhat relaxed, she realized it was the first decent sleep she'd gotten in a week. It had been a week. A whole week since they parted ways. The weight of that realization settled heavily on her chest, it was undeniably final now. The guy she'd been crazy about, the one she shared her first kiss with, the one she'd imagined a future with—it was all over. Her upbeat mood quickly turned sombre, the warmth of the morning giving way to a cold emptiness inside.
There was nothing left but her revenge. And as always, she was shooting for perfection. Nothing else would do.
Hermione stood before her wardrobe, deliberating on her outfit for breakfast. Her eyes settled on the grey knee-high socks she knew Draco had always admired. A faint smile curved her lips as she retrieved them, deeming them perfect for the occasion. She paired them with her favorite denim skirt, relishing the modest hint of skin it revealed. Completing the ensemble with her Mary Jane shoes and a Weasly jumper. She particularly appreciated the latter detail. After all, he had always disliked her closet being filled with Ron's and Harry's old Quidditch uniforms and outgrown t-shirts, which she wore as oversized sleeping dresses. When they got together and he first heard about it, it became his mission to replace every single one of them in her wardrobe with his own. Even though the jumper wasn’t from any of the boys but a Christmas gift from Molly, it clearly looked like a Weasley jumper.
She put her hair up in a high ponytail, some of her curls already escaping, but it still looked cute enough. Hermione was ready.
She arrived at breakfast in the Great Hall, putting on her most charming and cheerful facade. The hall buzzed with excitement, though it wasn’t as full as during term time. Hermione sat down next to Ron, who was in the middle of his breakfast. His plate was piled high with sausages, hash browns, and eggs. Hermione added a couple of slices of toast to her plate and poured herself a generous cup of coffee.
Ron finally noticed her as he looked over, cheeks bulging with food. He made a valiant effort to chew and swallow quickly, but still managed to spit out a few crumbs as he said, “Mione, y'r here!”
“Great observation skills, Ron,” Hermione replied dryly.
"Nuh, nuh, I mean y'ere, at brefkust an' all. Reckon y'v finally stuhp'd cryin' ov'r the git." Ron said, stuffing more food into his mouth. "Nice t' see y' down again!"
“Actually, I’ve been down the last two days as well. It just seems like when you’re with your breakfast, nothing can tear your attention away, I genuinely pity your girlfriend.” Hermione retorted. She glanced at Ron and couldn’t help but wonder what Lavender saw in him. Sure, he and Harry were great friends, but she couldn’t imagine feeling anything for either of them beyond the love she had for a brother.
Harry arrived at that very moment, settling into a seat opposite them. Unaware of the conversation he had just interrupted—or perhaps tactfully sidestepping it—he smoothly shifted the topic to safer ground.
"Hey, good morning! Excited about the party?" he asked, pouring himself a goblet of pumpkin juice. "What craziness do you reckon the twins are planning for us?"
Ron, still munching, nodded eagerly, then swallowed a gulp of juice before attempting to speak. "Neither Fred nor George are willing to share much, the prats. They only told me it would be huge and that everyone will be shocked. They were hinting at some crazy stuff like dragons or something mad like that. But they’re probably just having me on."
"No way they can have dragons at a party," Hermione interjected, rolling her eyes. "That would require a lot of permissions and licensing, not to mention having a professional trainer on site. They wouldn't risk it, especially in Diagon Alley."
"Charlie could do it, though," Ron said excitedly. "He's a dragon tamer."
"Hagrid would be beside himself if that were true," Harry added. "But I agree with Hermione. There won't be any dragons. Still, whatever they have planned, it's going to be the party of the year, if not the century."
Dean joined them, taking a seat next to Harry with Seamus and Neville in tow. "Are you talking about the twins' party?" Dean asked. "Lee Jordan told me it's going to have a crazy fire display, like Muggle fireworks at midnight."
"So, we're all going to the party, right?" Seamus asked eagerly, piling food onto his plate.
"I can't make it. My gran said I was not allowed to leave the school grounds. But there's apparently a great bash happening in the Ravenclaw common room. I'm not on the guest list, but Luna Lovegood said she'd sneak me in. So, I'll manage. And I've heard not many Slytherins are keen on the Weasley party either.
"Sour losers," Dean muttered. "They're still sore that we won the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup from them last year. I won't miss them being there. Bloody snakes."
"Are you taking the train from Hogsmeade as well?" Seamus asked. "Bloody nightmare, if you ask me. Gotta catch that morning one or we'll be proper late. And then we're stuck in London till late afternoon, twiddling our thumbs till the party kicks off," he griped.
"Nah, we've got a Portkey set up for eight," Harry said happily.
"Lucky bastards," Dean muttered. "But no matter, we'll use the train ride for pre-drinks and get there totally smashed. We're meeting Angelina and the others at the Leaky Cauldron if you want to stop by and go together."
"How will the Portkey work?" Neville asked. "Do you just have it with you, and when it's time, you use it in the common room?"
"No, we have to go to Hogsmeade to the Owl Post Office and activate it there," Ron explained. "But now that you mention it, why do we have to go there in this bloody cold? Why can't they just send it via owl and we activate it when it's time?"
"You can't use a Portkey within Hogwarts; the castle's protective ward system simply wouldn't allow it, much like why Apparition from the school grounds is prohibited. The enchantments, including the Anti-Apparition Charm, are designed specifically to prevent unauthorized individuals from appearing suddenly on school grounds. This regulation is essential to maintain a safe and orderly environment, crucial for focused magical education. Surely, you all knew that?" she glanced around, noting the mix of surprise and disappointment on her classmates' faces. "Honestly, none of you ever bothered to read? It's all clearly explained in Hogwarts: A History."
“You’re the only one who really reads that book,” added Harry with a grin.
“It’s not true! Draco has read it as well!” Hermione shot back, her voice tinged with defensiveness.
Oh no, she said his name again. Could she manage even ten minutes of normal conversation without bringing him up? What a way to show herself and everyone else that she's moving on. Their end of the Griffindor fell awkwardly silent; everyone knew about her recent breakup—whether from witnessing her tearful retreat to the Gryffindor common room or hearing her vent once or twice when her silencing charm wore off.
Luckily, Lavender arrived just in time, squeezing in between Ron and Hermione as they made space for her to sit.
"Won-won!" Lavender exclaimed, planting a loud, open-mouthed kiss on Ron's cheek. "How did my love muffin sleep last night?"
"Uh, well, you know, slept alright I guess," Ron replied with a sheepish grin, leaning into Lavender's affectionate gesture. Hermione discreetly focused on the coffee in front of her, allowing her friends their moment. She remained lost in her thoughts when, After twenty minutes of idle chatter and dreamy looks at Ron, Lavender suddenly sprang to her feet, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Hermione, we have to head back to the dormitory. There's so much to do, and it's going to take forever to get ready!" She tugged at Hermione's sleeve, her enthusiasm impossible to ignore.
"It's only 8:30 in the morning, my Lav. You can't possibly need all day, right?" asked Ron, sounding more bewildered than ever. Hermione silently agreed, already regretting the decisions that had led to this moment.
Lavender shot Ron a playful glare, hands firmly on her hips. "You boys just don't get it. There's hair, nails, makeup, outfits—we need to be perfect! Hermione, come on, just your hair alone will take at least two hours, if not more. Merlin knows how many bottles of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion we'll need to tame it."
"Oh, Merlin," whispered Hermione under her breath, but she stood up anyway, resignation in her every step.
"I'll miss you," Ron said with puppy-dog eyes directed at Lavender.
"I'll miss you too, Won-Won, but you don't want us to show up sloppy tonight, do you?" Lavender cooed, batting her eyelashes.
"You would never look sloppy," Ron replied with a teasing grin, earning himself a very long, very loud, and unexpectedly passionate kiss. Hermione closed her eyes, silently praying for Morgana to erase the vivid image now permanently etched in her mind.
As they made their way out of the Great Hall, Hermione couldn't resist stealing a glance towards the Slytherin table. All morning, she had fought the urge to look at him, but in the end, her curiosity got the better of her. She was only human, after all; no amount of willpower could suppress that.
Draco's eyes met hers for a fleeting moment before his gaze travelled downward, scanning her figure. Quickly, he averted his eyes, but Hermione caught his lingering stare on her jumper. It felt like a small victory.
Just as they were leaving, they unexpectedly ran into Blaise and Theo, who seemed to have just emerged from a late slumber and were now on their way to a belated breakfast.
"I'm so pleased to hear that our dear Hermione has changed her little pretty mind and is willing to join us in the evening after all!" Blaise said with a wink.
She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "I wouldn't miss it for anything," she replied, forcing a smile.
Lavender, already in motion, didn't want to waste a second. "We're actually in a bit of a rush," she said, gently grabbing Hermione's arm to urge her forward. "As much as we'd love to stay and chat, we must go. But we'll catch up this evening since we're all going together anyway."
"You're still coming with us?" Her eyes widened in surprise. She had assumed the boys would stick with Draco rather than her group. It felt heartwarming to know they chose her.
"Well, of course, Mione. That's what we agreed on, isn't it?" replied Theo, with a hint of confusion in his tone. "If you don't want us, I mean, I would understand..."
"No, no, I'm happy you're joining us. It'll be fun!" She replied, that though she was eager to ask why they wouldn't stay with Draco, she refrained. Her head was already spinning with possibilities. Perhaps Draco wanted to spend time alone with his date before joining the party. Even worse, there was the possibility that he had planned to spend the entire day with his date, taking her on a proper outing—perhaps a leisurely stroll down Diagon Alley. And then, maybe he would take her home to the manor for dinner, introducing her to his parents who would welcome her with open hearts and open arms, seeing her as the perfect Malfoy bride. The thought even crossed her mind that he might have a betrothal contract drawn up and signed by the next time she saw him that very night. It was all far-fetched but enough to almost send her spiralling down the rabbit hole of emotions.
She needed a distraction. Fortunately, Lavender had plenty planned to keep them occupied for the day, and she hadn't exaggerated about their preparation time; they spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon getting ready. It was enjoyable at first. They took advantage of Hermione's Head Girl privileges and indulged in long, luxurious baths in the Prefects' bathroom, gossiping about everything under the sun, though mostly about boys- well mostly Lavender and Ginny, who joined them in their pre-party rituals. Even though she couldn't join them in the evening, with invitations to four different parties, she had no reason to complain for herself. Especially since she was determined to attend every single one of them.
Around two, Hermione grew rather hungry, but Lavender forbade them from leaving their room, insisting there was no time to spare on mundane things like eating. Luckily, a blonde witch agreed to summon a house-elf to bring them food so they wouldn't starve. Hermione's hair posed the biggest challenge; achieving a stunning half-updo with framing curls took considerable effort. They consulted Teen Witch magazines for makeup spells and charms. Hermione was satisfied with her handiwork, but Ginny disagreed and insisted on making adjustments herself.
By quarter past six, Hermione was tired and moody, battling the urge to cry—which was strictly forbidden, as it would undo hours of work. She was on the brink of giving up and crawling into bed. Fortunately, they were almost finished; they just needed to get dressed and they'd be ready to go. Hermione had tried to convince the others that flat heels would be more comfortable for the night, but they all disagreed vehemently, arguing it would undermine the effect of her dress. Ginny assured her that the cushioning charm she knew would last all night, and Hermione couldn't bring herself to argue, even though she knew body-maintenance spells rarely worked well on her. It was futile. In the end, she conceded to their wisdom, and when she saw her reflection in the mirror, she realized they were right. Every detail harmonized perfectly; she looked amazing.
Despite the ordeal she endured and her vow never to go through it again, it was all worth it. Hermione had never been one to fuss over such things or harbour insecurities about her appearance; she knew how she looked and was content with herself as she was. Yet the reflection before her now exuded a radiant beauty and confidence that exceeded her expectations, and she couldn't help but love it.
Not surprisingly, when they reached the common room, Harry and Ron were already there in their usual corner, glasses of firewhiskey in hand. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she joined them, knowing they must have found a way to sneak the drinks past the rules. As the Head Girl, technically, she should have questioned them, but that would mean checking every student staying in the castle that night, not to mention all the various parties happening across Hogwarts. She was certain even the heads of houses and Dumbledore turned a blind eye to such minor infractions, and she knew for a fact that Madam Pomfrey had a well-stocked supply of sobering potions in her cupboards.
The boys were happy to see them, Ron looked appreciatively at Lavender as she walked over and sat on his lap, which was pretty much expected. What intrigued Hermione more was something odd she noticed when they bid goodbye to Ginny, who had left to meet her friends. Harry looked at her with a gaze that didn't convey 'I broke up with this girl and now we're friends,' but held a desperate, hidden look, mirroring how she imagined she gazed at Draco whenever she spotted him in the Great Hall during meals. Harry noticed her questioning look and subtly shook his head, signalling that he didn't want to talk about it that night, or maybe ever.
When the time came, they made their way to the eastern gate to meet Theo and Blaise as agreed, which would have been all right since they were already there, dressed in casual clothing and warm jackets. However, what momentarily threw Hermione off, stealing the breath from her lungs, was the fact that instead of finding the two off them, there was a third person standing between them. Draco Bloody Malfoy. Ron and Harry noticed him just as quickly as she did. Neither Gryffindor dared to speak; they simply regarded her in silence, like spectators awaiting an imminent explosion. They didn't have long to wait.
That small glass of firewhiskey had acted like fuel on her simmering emotions, and she erupted.