When the Clock Strikes Midnight
December 17th, 1994
The next morning, Hermione dressed in her woolen coat, House scarf, a fleece jumper, jeans and boots. She could tell that it was cold outside for though the sun tried to shine through a blanket of grey cloud to give a semblance of warmth, a sparkling frost covered the grounds. Hermione neared one of the multi-paned windows and peeked out at the students walking about. Despite standing a few feet away, the witch felt the chilled air through the glass panes. Snow was imminent. Hermione set off to meet with Ginny where the third-year Gryffindor girls’ staircase met the rest of the stairs. Together, the brunette and redhead walked arm-in-arm down to the Great Hall and gathered hot chocolate in charmed paper cups, ones that never let their contents get cool. When they were ready to brave the cold, the two young women set off to the Quidditch pitch. All Quidditch games had been suspended by special exemption for the year due to the Triwizard Tournament and the current members of the would-be House teams had been itching for a game. Harry hadn’t felt like playing, due to his arm, hoping it was rested up by the time the Yule Ball came around. He hated wearing his sling. And as Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker, had also opted out due to safety and risk, the Ravenclaw and Slytherin Seekers, Cho Chang and Draco Malfoy, had sat out as well. A small crowd filled the stands as news of the friendly game spread through the castle. Harry and Ron had chosen to sit with Seamus and Dean, lads cheering on the lads. It was up to the Chasers, Beaters and Keepers. The first team to 100 points would win!
Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet walked out onto the pitch. As they didn’t officially have Gryffindor Quidditch robes that year, they all wore their Gryffindor Quidditch jumpers and light brown corduroys from the year before with pride. As Hermione and Ginny charmed their seats in the stands for warmth and got comfortable, Hermione could clearly see that these lionesses meant business. Their eyes were sharp and fierce, their tall posture and set shoulders showed their strength. Friendly game, indeed. Hermione smirked. The girls mounted their brooms and kicked off. Rather than take her place at a Chaser position, Alicia Spinnet flew over to protect a set of hoops on the far-right end of the pitch. Their team needed a Keeper and as Oliver Wood had just graduated, she was as good a fit as any. A slight breeze picked up and the ponytails of the Gryffindor girls fluttered behind them like flags. This was going to be a war.
Hermione tucked her scarlet and gold scarf a little tighter around her neck as two of the former Ravenclaw Chasers walked onto the pitch. A fifth-year and a sixth-year male, both tall, both sandy blonde – Hermione thought they may have been brothers. Regardless, they mounted their brooms and took their marks opposite Angelina and Katie. Hufflepuff Chasers joined the Gryffindor girls, while Slytherin Chasers, all male, joined the Ravenclaws. Then, in reverse order, the Beaters appeared. First Slytherin, then Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and then –
When Fred and George walked out, Hermione fumbled her cup of hot chocolate, almost dropping it. Some splashed on Ginny’s jeans.
“Oi, watch it!” Ginny said, hastily pointing her wand at the small stain to clean it! “Hermione, what happened?”
“Sorry, Gin! I don’t – I’m not sure!” Hermione exclaimed as she hastily looked from her cup to the grounds of the pitch where Fred and George entered from the change room. She knew she had seen him wear that very same outfit earlier on in the month – but in this lighting, it was apparent that Fred had grown more fit since last year – his Quidditch jumper and corduroys were a smidge tight. They hugged the curves of his toned muscles and his thick thighs. He had trained during his time off and it showed. George’s frame also held power but was more wiry, still strong but not as firm. Both formidable. When the Weasley twins mounted their brooms, the Gryffindor members of the little audience cheered, Hermione along with the lot of them.
The teams were set. It was time to play. Lee Jordan had taken it upon himself to be the referee. He mounted his broom and joined the Quidditch players in the air. The sixth-year brought his wand to his throat, casting a Sonorous charm so that he could be heard.
“Right, you lot, welcome to the unofficial first Hogwarts Quidditch game of the year!” Lee started, his voice echoing throughout the stands. His excitement was tangible. “Over here, on the right side of the pitch, we have…”
Someone sat down to the left of Hermione and jostled her arm. As she tried to move away, she ended up spilling hot chocolate on Ginny again.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Hermione, get it together!” Ginny hissed, using her wand to clean the spill again. “Seriously, what is with you today?” The redhead looked past Hermione’s shoulder to see who had pushed her, as if to tell the assailant off as well, but paused. Her anger seemed to melt away. She gave Hermione a sheepish grin, one that the fourth-year witch didn’t like. “I’m just going to sit by Harry and Ron. You have fun – and keep your hot chocolate to yourself.”
Hermione was confused until she turned around in her seat to see that it was Viktor Krum who sat next to her, dressed in his thick brown and grey furs. She blushed, embarrassed that he had seen Ginny’ outburst and raised her hot chocolate to him like she was giving him a toast.
“Hello, Viktor. You could say sorry for pushing me, you know,” she said prior to taking a sip of her drink. The Bulgarian smirked.
“I could but then I would not have seen you blush – so I’m not apologizing for that.” His smirk turned into a smile and he looked out to the pitch. “Have you thought about my invitation to the Ball, Herm-own-ninny? It’s been a few days since I asked and you haven’t given me a straight answer.”
Hermione looked up to where Fred floated in the sky. He was keenly paying attention to Lee’s rules. She then spoke without looking back at Viktor.
“I’ve been asked by the other person, the one I told you about,” she replied. To her surprise, Krum laughed softly, a sound that rumbled deep in his chest.
“Well I am happy for you,” Viktor told her after a moment. “But I won’t get another date – I don’t want to go with anyone else.”
Hermione’s eyes left Fred to rove the rest of the pitch, analyzing the other players. “And why exactly do you want me?” Hermione asked.
“I told you – because you’re my friend. I want a special night with my friend. You made me feel welcome, Herm-own-ninny. That is important to me.”
Hermione sighed into her heated beverage and drank deeply before lowering her cup back down to her lap.
“I appreciate that, Viktor, I really do but I’m quite happy to go with this other person.”
Viktor smirked again. “I don’t enjoy coming second to any man, Herm-own-ninny. But I will respect your wishes. However, if anything between you and that redhead of yours, Roneeld, and you can’t go with him, I will take his place. As your friend.”
The idea of going as Ron’s date was laughable. Hermione snorted at his words. “I’m not going with Ron. And it’s Ronald, by the way.”
Viktor’s words were playful now. “Who are you going with then?” he asked, nudging her elbow. “Come on, Herm-own-ninny. You can tell me.”
Hermione sighed. “Let’s just enjoy the game, shall we?”
It seemed Viktor knew her better than she thought for he didn’t push the subject again.
Within thirty minutes, Hermione was reminded of why she wasn’t keen on Quidditch. The players flew on broomsticks (not her thing), it was a dangerous sport (as observed when Angelina almost got a Slytherin Bludger to the head) and she hated that it was observed outdoors at all times of the year, especially during winter. Her charmed seat and magicked hot chocolate weren’t enough to keep her warm. She should have put on her thermals under her clothing.
When Lee Jordan called for a ten-minute rest, Fred and George flew over the area in the stands where Hermione, Krum, Harry, Ron and Ginny sat. Hermione smiled through chattering teeth as the twins approached. Fred returned her smile, but it quickly faded into a worried frown when he saw how cold Hermione was. He flew a little closer to her.
“Are you alright?” he asked. Hermione nodded.
“I’m f-fine,” she managed to reply. “Really, Fred, I’m okay.”
If Fred wasn’t so annoyed with her stubbornness, he probably would have laughed. There was a time and a place for being prideful and not saying anything, this was not one of them. He gestured to his twin to pay attention and when George’s eyes also landed on Hermione, he ran his hand through his mop of red hair.
“Granger, your lips are blue,” George noted. “Oi, can someone get Hermione a blanket or something?” he asked the rest of the Gryffindors. “Haven’t you lot noticed that she’s freezing?”
Ron started shrugging out of his coat but Krum beat him to it. As Hermione had noticed earlier, he was laden with layers of fur capes and pelts to keep warm. The Bulgarian stood up, shrugged off the grey fox fur cape (he had two thinner capes underneath) and wrapped it around Hermione like a blanket before she could say anything. The brunette witch caught Fred frowning but he had changed the expression on his face as quickly as she had noticed. She couldn’t deny that the furs were warm and her teeth had stopped chattering after a few minutes.
“Hermione, if you were that cold, why didn’t you go back up to the castle?” Ginny asked from her place in the stands beside Harry. Hermione shook her head.
“I’m not missing the first and only game this year,” she replied. Her cheeks were rosy, though whether it was the result from the cold wind or the attention she was getting, she couldn’t be sure. “Besides, I think we all need something fun.”
“Since when do you care about Quidditch?” Ron demanded as he started to put his half-removed coat back on. This earned him an elbow nudge from Harry.
“Stow it,” Hermione heard the Chosen One hiss. “She doesn’t need you taking the piss.”
They were all silenced by several flashes of light in rapid succession. The group of students looked to the right to see Rita Skeeter poised with her Quick Quotes Quill and floating camera. Hermione instantly scowled.
“What a gorgeous group!” Rita looked tickled pink. “Celebrating a fun game of Quidditch, I see?”
None of the students answered her, loathing clear on all of their faces. They didn’t like the eccentric gossip columnist with her green fur winter jacket, matching muff and black furred hat. She looked like some kind of beast and acted like one. Everyone knew it.
To Hermione’s horror, Rita sat down right beside her and squished close. The feather of the Quick Quotes Quill swiped the young witch’s right cheek.
Skeeter crooned. “Miss Granger, I love this look on you!” Her mouth, covered in a glossed red lipstick, was pursed with intrigue. She then looked to Viktor. “Are you wrapped up in more than just Viktor Krum’s furs? Plan to dance with any Durmstrangs at the Yule Ball, perhaps? I mean, who could blame you, all those muscles. And their accents - ”
From beside Hermione, Krum looked annoyed. “We don’t need you pushing your nose into our business.”
“The expression is ‘Sticking your nose in”, dear,” Rita corrected. She pouted with mock-sympathy. “Oh, you poor boy, have you taken too many Bludgers to the head in your short Quidditch career? Pity.”
Viktor looked confused at her figure of speech, which made Rita laugh cruelly.
Hermione’s frustration was piqued. “You’re only supposed to be here when there is something going on for the Tournament,” she quipped. “Otherwise, you’re trespassing.”
Rita smirked. “Oh, Miss Granger, I hope I haven’t put a bee in your bonnet. I simply came down to document the Great Hall’s transformation into the Yule Ball. But then I heard some students were having some fun on the Quidditch pitch and seeing as three of the four Triwizard Champions play the sport, I thought I would see if they were all having a go.” She looked from Harry to Krum beside Hermione to where Diggory sat across the pitch. “Now I see you’ve all sat out. But no matter.” She reached forward and ran her hand along the fur wrapped around Hermione’s body. “I’ve discovered something a little more fun.”
The camera snapped another photo of Krum beside Hermione and the latter watched as Fred bristled on his broom.
To Hermione’s relief, Skeeter set her sights on Harry next and moved up to where he was sitting, pushing her way between Harry and Ron to sit down.
“Right, I think I’m perfectly cozy right here with the littlest Champion” the columnist said, making herself comfortable with a squirm and wiggle. Hermione watched Harry groan and Ron looked quite put out. Ginny was openly glaring at the older witch. Seamus and Dean, who were on the other side of Ron, flipped Skeeter the middle finger when she wasn’t looking.
“Players, back to your places!” Lee Jordan’s voice crackled. The Gryffindor had remounted his broom to float in the middle of the pitch and was using his wand to cast the Sonorous charm once again. Hermione’s eyes flicked from watching Harry’s interaction with Skeeter to linger on Fred. They trailed down his body, stopping on his thighs. As she smirked in appreciation, she glanced upward and noticed Fred had caught her staring.
“Eyes on the pitch, Granger,” he teased as he turned tail and flew back to the middle of the pitch. George chuckled and swept his long fringe out of his eyes, copying his brother.
“Try not to watch me fly away, too, Hermione. We are identical,” the other Weasley twin joked. Hermione rolled her eyes and shooed George away. He was right, they are alike. But they weren’t identical in more ways than one.
The rest of the game lasted another hour with the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff combination team beating the Slytherin/Ravenclaws by 20 points. The moment the winning team was declared, Hermione threw off Viktor’s fur cape and dashed over to the wooden stairs of the stands. It took her a few minutes to reach the bottom of the stands and cross over along the outside of the pitch to the entrance of the change rooms. She waited for a few minutes, leaning against the wall of the stadium.
When Fred and George finally came out, they had dressed out of their Quidditch clothes and were wearing joggers, green and navy hooded jumpers and multi-coloured knitted scarves made by Mrs. Weasley. Lee walked with him, having met up with them in the change rooms, and was complaining about the frost soaking into his trainers when Hermione jogged from her place against the stadium wall up to the lot of them and tugged on Fred’s right arm to get his attention. He turned his head to look at who had interrupted and smiled when he laid eyes on her. Merlin, he gave her butterflies.
“Hey, can I walk up with the lot of you?” she asked.
George grinned and moved over so that Hermione could walk between himself and his twin.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he put his arm around Hermione’s shoulders. “Harry and Ron are off to doing their own thing once again?”
Hermione smiled. “No, I just figured I don’t hang around with you two – well, three – “ She corrected, adding in Lee. “- As often, so I figured I would join! Great game, by the way!”
Fred chuckled.
“More like you don’t to be interviewed by Skeeter again, hm?” he asked, eyebrow raised. Hermione smiled weakly in response, admitting her true intentions, as Fred moved a little closer to her. When George dropped his arm from around Hermione’s shoulders, the other freckled wizard wrapped his arm around her waist to guide her across the grounds. It was a move so subtle, so natural that if George and Lee had noticed or even took it as anything more than platonic, they didn’t say anything.
Lee shook his head. “I saw the way she practically leapt on the lot of you!” he said, continuing to speak of Skeeter. “She didn’t even give you room to breathe!”
Hermione’s smile faded and she groaned.
“That woman is a viper! Twisting words, altering perceptions – it’s so infuriating! First, I’m dating Harry, next, I’m snogging Krum – I’m sure she’d write about me dating Diggory, too, if she ever caught us together, even for a moment!”
Lee and George snickered while Fred almost looked cocky. He gave a squeeze at her waist, something for only her to notice. “Well, we know you’re not snogging the lot of them, don’t we? For Merlin’s sake, you’re too good for them anyway,” he said.
Hermione smirked in response. “I really am,” she replied, feeding into Fred’s little game. “Whoever does eventually get to date me must be pretty lucky.”
Fred tried to hide his grin by tucking his chin a little further down into the scarf his mother had knitted.
Another squeeze at her waist. This secret relationship was torture.
December 18th, 1994
Hermione awoke to the shrieks of Parvati and Lavender.
”Merlin, Hermione, get up!” said one.
“Hermione, you’ve a letter!” said the other.
The brunette sat up groggily and rubbed her eyes to see that there was a large envelope on the end of her bed. There was no post on Sundays normally. What was this? She picked up the envelope, snapping it to make it stiff. A singular sheet of parchment was inside the envelope. It was full of text. Shielding it from the eyes of Parvati and Lavender, she started to read.
Dear Miss Granger, how do you feel about this article? I’ve decided to show you before anyone else! It’s to be published in tomorrow morning’s Daily Prophet!
- S.
CANOODLING FOR CHRISTMAS:
Miss Granger Cozied Up to Bulgarian Seeker, Viktor Krum
Dated: December 18th, 1994
Miss Hermione Granger, as previously reported, is a fourth-year Gryffindor student at Hogwarts. She has made quite a name for herself in her studies and has gained a reputation at the school for high marks, sharp wit and quick intellect. However, the school’s gossip has reached my ears and Miss Granger has seemingly left young Harry Potter in the dust! In fact, dear readers, I managed to sneak a few photographs of Miss Granger on several occasions with Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker from visiting Durmstrang and one of the four Triwizard Champions!
The first photograph was captured the other week while Miss Granger and Krum were on a loved-up date at Madame Puddifoot’s in Hogsmeade! Look, dear readers, how she laughs at his whipping cream mustache! Such sweetness! What tenderness! It looks like puppy love!
But wait, dear readers, wait a moment more! The second photograph was captured during a quick visit to the school to visit the Headmaster for an interview! I was walking in the corridors and what do you think I saw? This! I just had to get this shot!
(A picture snapped from behind a pillar, judging by the angle, when Krum had brushed Hermione’s hand with his fingers as he asked her to the Yule Ball.)
See how he tenderly he holds her hand before class – does that look like it’s just a simple friendship to you?
But wait, dear readers, there is one more piece of evidence I simply must show you! Just yesterday, some of the Hogwarts students gathered together for a friendly game of Quidditch. I simply had to stop by, as three of the four Triwizard Champions play the sport, and I wanted to see if they could fly their broomsticks just as well as they managed to get through the First Task (Potter already proved that, of course!). I was dismayed to find Diggory, Potter and Krum weren’t playing, themselves, but imagine how I perked up when I saw this!
(The photograph was of Hermione wearing Krum’s fur cape, Fred looking concerned for her well-being, Ron captured mid-shrugging out of his coat. The rest of their friends all wore the same expression of surprise.)
She’s wearing his fur cape! Now that has to be a sign of a budding romance! Pictures don’t lie, readers! Pictures do not lie! And as of late, I seem to have the amazing luck of capturing the best ones!
Now, I’m sure you’re wondering, “But Rita, the pictures mean nothing without the people behind them!” So what do they say? Miss Granger did not wait around to comment and scampered off as soon as the friendly match finished! But I was able to catch some words from Mr. Krum as he was refastening his furs.
Me: “Viktor – can I call you Viktor? Oh, of course I can! Viktor, you Bulgarian bon-bon, you seemed completely enamoured with Hogwarts. I’ve observed you on the grounds, admiring the views of the Black Lake, the Forbidden Forest, the rolling hills and greenery… but I see it’s not just the environment that has you captivated. Tell me about your relationship with Miss Granger.”
Krum was careful with his facial expression here, his eyes guarded. Was it supposed to be a secret? Cat’s out of the bag, now!
Krum: “Herm-own-ninny is my friend. She has shown me a special kindness.”
Dear readers, did my heart skip a beat?
Me: “A special kindness, you say? What’s so special?”
Krum looked like thoughts were actually forming in his brain for once and as the other Gryffindors left the stands around us, he watched them walk away. Then he cleared his throat and leaned in closer to me.
Krum: “She has been the first person since I became the Bulgarian Seeker who does not give me special treatment. She sees me as a person and that’s what I love about her. She is a kind person.”
Me: “Did you say love, Mr. Krum?”
Krum chuckles, his eyes alight.
Krum: “You can have love for a friend, Miss Skeeter.”
I had to dig deeper, dear readers!
Me: “But she’s not just a friend, is she?”
Krum smiled softly.
Krum: “I leave at the end of the year. I don’t have time for a girlfriend.”
Me: “I’m sure there are other ladies at Hogwarts who may not be so complicated to obtain. From what I hear, you’re followed on the daily.”
Krum laughed softly.
Krum: “That may be true, but as I’ve told Herm-own-ninny, if I can’t take her to the Ball, I don’t want a date. She’s the only one I want to take.”
Dear readers, I swooned!
Me: “Viktor, are you telling me in an exclusive that you’re going to the Yule Ball with Miss Hermione Granger?”
Krum paused here.
Krum: “Well, I’ve asked her – around a week ago, actually but -”
And there you have it, dear readers! Viktor Krum, Triwizard Champion, Bulgarian Seeker and Durmstrang student is attending the Yule Ball with plain Hermione Granger! We can only hope to keep our eyes peeled for how this bookish caterpillar can turn into a butterfly on the big night!
In other notes, I went around Hogwarts afterward to ask any professors if they had any insight to these rumours of Krum and Granger. Professor Minerva McGonagall, declined to comment and shooed me from her office, while Professor Trelawney tried to sell me on some future drivel. However, to my shock and surprise, Professor Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions Master, did have something to say!
Snape: “I do not pretend to know the non-academic proclivities of any student, visiting or otherwise. However, we have had some students exploring around the school after curfew as of late.”
Me: “Is Miss Granger one of those students?”
Snape: “Granger has been caught a few times after curfew as of late, though I cannot divulge with who or for what reason. Like all students, she has been warned of not repeating the behaviour and making it a habit. All of our students know that disobeying curfew is forbidden.”
It seems, dear readers, that Miss Granger and Mr. Krum might be doing more than just some Christmas canoodling, indeed!
More updates to come next week!
It was a good thing that Hermione was in bed for she felt faint as soon as she finished reading. Why did Viktor have to say anything to Rita at all? And what would Fred say when he saw it tomorrow morning? She had to tell him herself.
As it was a Sunday morning, many of the students were happy to stay in bed and have a lie-in. This meant she could search for Fred openly and undisturbed. She slipped on her black joggers and white hooded jumper, brushed her hair up into a ponytail and slipped on her trainers. Envelope in hand, she headed down the Gryffindor common room. As luck would have it, Fred was easy to find for he sat on the scarlet couch in front of the fire, still in his blue knitted pyjamas. His right elbow was propped onto the right arm of the couch and his fingers brushed on his lips – he was deep in thought.
She moved around the edge of the couch and sat down beside him on his left side. “Morning, you,” she greeted softly. Her presence startled him out of his thoughts and he dropped his right hand from his mouth, relaxing. “What’s on your mind?”
“Hello yourself,” he greeted. “I was just trying to remember a dream I had. But now, I’m thinking of nothing but you.” He leaned in to place a soft kiss on her mouth.
Hermione returned his kiss but not for long. Her mind raced with how she would tell him – what she would tell him. When she pulled away, Fred noticed how anxious she looked.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. His left hand moved to cup her right cheek and he ran his thumb across her rosy skin. When she didn’t answer him, he pressed a little more.
“Hermione, come off it, what’s wrong?” His left hand moved from her face to squeeze her right knee gently.
She couldn’t keep it in anymore. When she spoke, her hands moved about in the air, the envelope flapping wildly.
“I feel stupid, Freddie!” she blurted out. “All I’ve done was try to keep him at bay and now that vile woman has woven and twisted the story.”
Fred had tried to focus on what she was saying, but the envelope flapping had distracted him.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. What exactly are you on about?” he asked. In response, Hermione lowered her hands and passed the envelope lightly into Fred’s hand. Her voice shook as she spoke.
“Just please know, whatever this is inside, I can explain and it’s not the whole truth.”
Any expression Fred had had slipped from his face when he realized she was being serious. The Weasley twin took the envelope, glancing between the object and Hermione’s face. Saying nothing more, he slipped the parchment from it. Hermione waited.
When Fred read the title of the article, his mouth stiffened.
The more he read, the gentle grip of his left hand on her knee grew lighter.
When he finished the article, his body shifted a little farther away from hers on the couch. He was slowly shutting down – protecting himself.
No, no, no, no! Hermione thought frantically.
As she watched, he re-read the article. After that, Fred Weasley’s eyes roved back up to the pictures Skeeter had included. He was watching Hermione laughing, in the tea shop. He was watching her blush when Krum tried to soothe her by rubbing her hand. He was watching her shocked face in response to Rita snapping the picture of the lot of them at the pitch only yesterday.
He said nothing. Hermione remained frozen in place. Fred slipped the parchment back in the envelope and leaned forward, tossing the article into the fireplace. The flames swallowed the envelope whole, engulfing it with a crackle, licks of heat and sparks. In mere seconds, it was reduced to ash, the grey figments that collected at the bottom of the fireplace floo. A few ash pieces floated from the fireplace towards Fred and Hermione and landed on her black joggers. She looked down at the grey pieces of charred parchment but didn’t move to wipe them away. Her lower lip trembled. She could tell Fred was angry. His whole body was tense beside hers, his left hand frozen on her knee.
“Please say something,” she whispered, still looking down at her lap. “Freddie… ”
At the sound of his nickname, Fred’s head whipped round to look at her. “You said yes to me, didn’t you?”
When Hermione spoke, it was with a cry. She was trying so hard not to reduce herself to a blubbering mess.
“Yes! I even told Viktor that I had accepted you. I’m quite sure Skeeter took his words out of context! He had said ‘But’ in his response, you know how that spidery woman is!”
Fred’s eyes searched her face like a sailor lost at sea, looking for shore. It was if he was searching for her – as if he no longer recognized her. His voice sounded weak. “And who do you want to go with, ’Mione? Who do you fancy?”
“You, of course!” Hermione snapped. “Always you, Fred.” She ran her right thumb along his left cheek. “I didn’t lie when I said I wanted to go with you. I want to be your date, I like whatever we are doing, whatever you want to call this.” She gestured in between them.
But to her shock, Fred pulled away, forcing her to lower her hand from his face.
“’Mione, if this article is going to get published, I can’t go with you,” he told her. “It would take the piss out of Skeeter, sure, but it would disgrace Krum and you would also be talked about as a two-timing slag. Trust me, she’s already painted you out to be dating Harry, now Krum – what would she say if I was tossed into the equation, too? What would the school think? I don’t want you to get bullied for your choices, true or not.”
Hermione shook her head. “I don’t care,” she said fiercely, causing Fred to chuckle ruefully.
“Yes, you do, or you wouldn’t have shown me the article in the first place.” Fred sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy red hair. “And I care about what people say about you, ’Mione. Because you’re bloody important to me.”
Hermione’s lower lip trembled again and tears sprung up to her eyes. She wiped them away quickly. “Are you – Freddie, are you breaking up with me?”
Fred’s tone was careful. “All I’m saying is that we can’t go to the Yule Ball together,” he said after a long pause. “I still want to be with you –”
Her brows knitted together. “No, you don’t,” she retorted, sadness and frustration turning to anger. “If you did, you would want to be seen with me. We are supposed to be going together, to show that we’re – something.”
Fred wasn’t afraid of Hermione’s fury the way that his younger brother and the Potter boy were. Maybe that was one of the things he loved about her – they could go toe-to-toe.
“Hermione Granger, will you stop being so stubborn for once in your life and listen to reason?”
When she paused, he continued.
“I care about you and I care about us and whatever this is. I don’t want that to stop. But I don’t want to hurt your reputation either. People can be nasty and cruel. So that means that, at least for the next week, you need to go to the Ball with Krum, even as friends. And that means –”
He sighed.
“Bollocks, that means I’m going to have to try and find a bloody date. It’s not like I want to go with anyone else besides you, either.”
He relaxed for the first time in several minutes and rested his head on her right shoulder.
“’Mione…” Her name was a whisper. “I meant it when I said the other week that you make me mental. And you make me do things I wouldn’t normally do, like, giving you up on purpose now just so that I can love you later, for example.”
Hermione’s heart skipped a beat but she tried not to show it. She didn’t ask him to repeat it, or say it any louder – but he had said it.
Fred Weasley, her Freddie – loved her, or at least was on his way to doing so.
In response, she cupped his face in her hands with a sweet tenderness and brought her lips to his in a kiss that was deep and passionate. It was a proper kiss that left them both wanting more, a kiss that made him pull her onto top of him to straddle his waist. A kiss that left her breathless.
“Maybe we should stay away from each other the whole week,” Fred said when they broke apart. “Not touching, kissing, anything – until the day after the Yule Ball. It’ll make everything sweeter.”
Hermione pouted. “A whole week?” she repeated. She ran her fingers through his hair. “Fred, I don’t know how we are supposed to – ”
The Weasley twin chuckled. “I’m still saying I can be around you as your friend. George even said he likes when you hang around lately. So that’s not going to change. You just don’t get any of this.” He dipped his head and his lips went to her neck. “Or this.” He sucked her skin. “Or this.” His hips pushed upward against her and the growing friction made her back arch.
She moaned, both in anticipation and frustration. “Fred Weasley, you’re going to kill me.” He chuckled against the hollow of her neck and pulled away.
“Midnight. When the clock strikes midnight at the Yule Ball and Christmas Eve turns into Christmas Day, I’m all yours,” he promised. His hand playfully swatted her bottom, making her jump. She giggled and got up off of him, standing on the floor beside the couch. She was debating on if she should go upstairs and grab her novel when Fred distracted her with a hand lightly around her wrist. His fingers traced patterns on the sensitive skin of her arm.
“Hermione?”
“Hm?” she asked, looking down at where he held her hand. Fred stood up from his seat on the couch and kept his grip on her wrist. He moved forward until their chests almost touched and she could feel his breath on her forehead.
Fred sighed. “This is going to be the longest week of my life.”
There was the frustration that Hermione had been expecting. She adjusted their hands so that they were holding hands now and squeezed once, reassuringly and tilted her head upward to give him once last kiss.
“Go get some breakfast,” she told him. “If you don’t leave now, I won’t let you.”
He chuckled and pulled her closer for one more second before he released her and headed towards the portrait hole, his hands running through his shaggy red hair. Hermione giggled when she realized he hadn’t even bothered to change out of his pyjamas. Oh well. It’s early enough that no one’s really going to notice. She went upstairs to fetch her Muggle novel, grinning to herself the entire time. He’s not going to make it, Hermione thought to herself. A whole week without snogging me? He’s going to crack.
She wasn’t going to lie to herself. Staying away from Fred would be torture for her as well. She figured she could just hide it better.
By the time other students had woken up and come down the stairs to the common room, Hermione had returned to her former spot on the couch and had her nose deep in her book. None that passed by were wise to what had happened mere minutes ago nor could they spot the love bites that Fred had left on Hermione’s neck now that she had charmed them into disappearing. When Ron and Harry came downstairs, they invited her to go spend time with Hagrid and she happily agreed. She went upstairs to don some extra layers and return her book back to its place on her nightstand. Visiting Hagrid would be nice; it always was. And after all, it gave Hermione the opportunity to ask Hagrid if he had managed to woo Madame Maxime and change her mind about being his date.
The day passed in a blur but it ended up proving eventful for these three extra reasons.
Reason 1: Harry had had his first official rejection. He tried to ask Cho Chang to the Yule Ball. She said she was going with Diggory.
Reason 2: Ron had shouted at Fleur in the courtyard to go with him to the Yule Ball. He had promptly been turned down with appropriate disgust that that kind of behaviour warranted.
And Reason 3: Hermione found Viktor Krum after dinner time and as they shared some Cauldron Cakes she had brought from the Great Hall, she told him she was agreeing to be his date to the Yule Ball. As friends, of course. Krum smiled from ear-to-ear and brought the back of her right hand to his lips to kiss it.
December 19, 1994
To Hermione’s annoyance and surprise, Rita Skeeter’s article about her and Krum wasn’t in the morning’s Daily Prophet. She had furiously flipped through page after page, searching for the gossip column, to find nothing. She had noticed that Fred had done the same with his own copy of the Daily Prophet from further down the Gryffindor table.
“What are you looking for?” Ron had asked from his spot beside her. “You’re never invested in the news like this.”
“Oh! Um, it’s nothing, Ron – I just thought I had heard McGonagall and Snape talking about some house elf riot the other day and thought it would be in here. It’s typical that it’s not,” Hermione lied. That seemed to satisfy Ron, who went back to eating his beans on toast. The brightest witch then looked across the table to Harry, who seemed to be pleased having full function of his arm again, without his sling.
“Lucky you,” she commented. “You’re actually going to be able to do some work in Herbology this morning – Ron won’t have to do all the shovelling and planting as your partner.” This earned a snort of laughter from Ron. Harry grimaced. Hermione knew he wasn’t keen on Herbology, never had been. Neville, on the other hand, was talking excitedly with a less-than-enthused Seamus further down the table, speaking about mistletoe and its medicinal properties.
Hermione watched as Seamus cut off his friend with a lift of hand. “Listen, mate, I reckon I’m only interested in mistletoe if I’m giving a kiss to someone under it.”
She giggled into her morning eggs. Leave it to Seamus to be bold.
After Herbology, the fourth-year Gryffindors had a break followed by Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins. Hagrid taught the class about the winged Abraxans that pulled the Beauxbatons carriage. Hermione was fascinated with the aviary horses. They were similar in colouring to palominos and quite fearsome with their sheer size and power, though seemingly gentle in nature. They were almost the same height as Hagrid. They let them drink from buckets of whiskey and had been allowed to groom the beasts.
After Care of Magical Creatures, the students had luncheon. Most of the students had re-gathered in the Great Hall. Some used the time to catch up with friends and talk of the Yule Ball preparations, some used the time for homework and the like. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat side-by-side. For Hermione, she had a textbook for Arithmancy open, taking that course on Monday afternoons instead of Divination like most of the other fourth-years Gryffindors. After being insulted by Trelawney last year, Hermione had effectively resigned from the course and asked McGonagall for an alternative credit. As she read, she wrote notes in her black composition notebook. Ron was reading the Daily Prophet as he hadn’t read it over that morning and Harry was also writing notes along with his Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook. Every once in a while, the slow footsteps of Professor Snape could be heard behind them as he patrolled the aisles, supervising their actions.
Ron turned in his seat and openly admired some Ravenclaw girls laughing together at their House table. He leaned a little closer to Harry to speak but Hermione could still overhear.
“At this rate, we’ll be the only ones in our year without dates,” Ron complained.
Before either Hermione or Harry could say anything, Professor Snape pushed the back of Ron’s head down towards the Gryffindor table and closer to his copy of the Daily Prophet. He checked over his shoulder to watch the professor walk off and then leaned over to Harry again.
“I mean, us and Neville, anyway.”
“Yeah, but he can take himself,” Harry joked back.
This comment irked Hermione and she sighed, turning her head to the left to stare down her best friends.
“It might interest you to know that Neville’s already got someone,” she replied, setting them in place. Ron groaned.
“Now I’m really depressed,” the redhead complained. They all started going back to their work when a piece of paper floated across the Gryffindor table towards them. The ßthree fourth-years looked up to where Fred and George sat, just opposite and to the right of Hermione. Ron looked over his shoulder for Snape and then quickly read the note aloud.
“Get a move on or all the good ones will have gone.”
Ron checked for Snape once more and then shot a glance back over at his brother.
“Who are you going with then?” he whispered.
Hermione’s gaze fixed onto Fred. Her – whatever he was – picked up the slip of paper and raised his eyebrows at the three of them before crumpling the paper into his palm.
Well, this should be interesting, Hermione thought. Let’s see who he picks then.
To her surprise, she watched Fred toss the paper ball down the table where it hit Angelina Johnson on the shoulder.
“Oi, Angelina!” he whisper-shouted. The sixth-year witch turned around in her seat and raised her eyebrows.
“What?” she asked back. Fred smirked.
“Do you…” He pointed at Angelina. “Wanna go to the Ball?” He mimed waltzing with his arms. “With me?” He pointed towards his chest with his thumbs.
“To the Ball?” Angelina whispered back. A smile broke out on her face, excited to be asked. “Yeah, sure!”
Fred turned back to the Golden Trio and winked before going back to his work and eating his lunch. And although Hermione knew it was all a ruse, she felt like a knife was stabbed and twisted into her heart. She didn’t like seeing him flirt with someone else. But it had been decided. It was just for the remainder of the week. It was already Monday – by Saturday at midnight, Freddie, her Freddie, was all hers again.
Hermione was so focused on stopping herself from reeling that she barely noticed when Ron turned to her.
“Oi, Hermione… you’re a girl.”
Hermione was snide. “Very well-spotted,” she replied, already on the defensive. She noticed Harry tap Ron on the shoulder but her redheaded best friend paid the Chosen One no mind and pressed on.
Oh no, he wasn’t going to – was he?
“Come for a dance?” he asked, miming waltzing the way his older brother had. He was cut off from saying more when Snape smacked him up the back of his head – and Harry’s – with a black composition notebook that he carried. Hermione winced at the resounding smack of each hit. Fred and George snickered from their seats. She was already embarrassed and angry by Ron’s actions. But the next part shocked her to her core.
“It’s one thing for a bloke to show up alone. For a girl, it’s just sad.”
The Gryffindors in the immediate area all snapped to attention at his rude comment, none more-so than Fred. Hermione was very aware of his eyes upon her but she didn’t care. She saw red. She leaned in, her face only a few inches from Ron’s and allowed her words to drip with venom. He had had pushed too far.
“I won’t be going alone because believe it or not, someone’s asked me!” Hermione hissed. Her voice, spoken at normal volume, might as well have been shouting in the relatively quiet Great Hall and it caused more people to stare.
Good. Let them see how Ronald just made an arse of himself.
She got up from her seat at the Gryffindor table and turned in her notebook to Professor Snape before striding back to collect her things. Leaning down to collect her things into her arms, she got into Ron’s face once more.
“And I said yes!”
She then turned on her heel sharply and walked quickly out of the Great Hall, not daring to meet anyone’s eye. She heard whispers of the students watching her go but didn’t care about what they said. She was going to prove to them all that she was more than just the bookish friend of the Chosen One.
December 24, 1995
The pink chiffon layers drifted down her body and the satin bodice hugged her blooming curves. The chiffon sleeves delicately graced her shoulders and as she gave a practice twirl, Hermione couldn’t help but grin. Her dress; a pink dream of light layers and pastel shades, fit perfectly. Her shoes, in a matching satin to the bodice, were charmed to reduce friction. Her hair had been styled into ringlets and twisted together in a braided bun at the back of her head, with some extra curls left downward in a sort of half-up, half-down style. She had added some clips into her hair that appeared to be snowflakes, pearled and dazzling with rhinestones. Lavender and Parvati helped her with her makeup, choosing a light blush and lip to compliment her natural beauty.
Tonight, Hermione Granger had evolved. Tonight, she was no longer an ugly duckling and was emerging as a swan.
Lavender and Parvati walked with Hermione down to the Great Hall, the three giggling as they went. They met up with Parvati’s twin, Padma, on the Grand Staircase and Hermione complimented the girls on their matching saris. Padma talked of being Ron’s date while Parvati was thrilled about being Harry’s. Lavender blabbered on about how she was going to dance with as many of the Durmstrang boys as possible. They reached the bottom of the stairs and could already smell the scent of punch and freshly baked sweets that wafted from the open Great Hall doors. Soft music could be heard as well. The group of girls made to round the final corner, but Hermione stopped in place, gripped by sudden fear.
What if I fall? What if I trip and rip my dress? What if they laugh at me?
Parvati saw Hermione’s hesitation and rubbed her shoulder softly, carefully not to mess with the fabric of her sleeve.
“You look stunning,” the Patil twin promised. “But don’t go in there until you’re absolutely ready. We’ll be inside if you need us, yeah?” The Patil twins left her, joined arm in arm to greet Harry and Ron, who stood outside the. Great Hall. Lavender gave one last look to Hermione, muttered a “You really do look great,” and set off around the corner herself.
Now she was alone.
Hermione took a deep breath and leaned against the stone wall of the castle. Her heartbeat quickened and goosebumps raised along her exposed skin. She watched the flames from the sconces on the castle walls cast shadows onto the floor and allowed herself to be lost in the patterns they made. Flicker this way, flicker that – the shadows dancing. After a few more minutes of deep breaths, Hermione brought her hands to her chest. Her heart continued to beat wildly. She could do this.
Hesitantly, she peeked around the corner of the wall. More students trickled down the stairs from both sides of the Great Hall. She spotted Malfoy and Parkinson together, as well as Fleur with Roger Davies, Diggory with Cho and Parvati with Harry. Ron and Padma were being ushered into the Great Hall by McGonagall and many other students followed suit. She even watched as Neville gave Ginny a flower for a corsage. How sweet.
Hermione took another step out from behind the wall. She was in full view now. Fighting her inner panic, she forced herself to relax and stand a little taller. She smoothed her hands down her dress to make sure it was in place. Think confident, she muttered to herself.
When she descended the stairs, she did so slowly, so as to mind her dress. McGonagall filtered any students that were not Triwizard Champions or their dates into the Great Hall. When the small crowd dissipated, Viktor crossed over to her from across the concourse. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at her expectantly with the softest smile upon his face. He looked smart and dashing with a formal, fitted red tunic on, draped with a cape with brown trim in the same luxurious scarlet fabric. His brown trousers were tucked into black boots that matched the black leather of his cape’s harness that fastened under his right arm, as well as his belt, which wrapped around his firm midsection. He had shaved and to Hermione’s surprise, he wore cologne as well. She could smell it faintly as she approached; teakwood and something she couldn’t place.
He clicked his heels and bowed to her when she reached the bottom of the stairs. Hermione blushed. He raised his left hand for her to take. She placed her right hand onto his and as he led her to stand in line with the other Triwizard Champions, she caught Harry staring at her. She gave him a small giggle and wave, excited.
Tonight felt like the first night of the rest of her life.
The live orchestral band, conducted by Professor Flitwick, started up into a grand fanfare from the other side of the ornate doors. It was starting.
“What’s happening?” Hermione whispered.
“We are dancing,” Viktor replied with a smirk. “The eight of us, all together.” Hermione beamed.
“Just don’t step on my foot,” she teased.
“I wouldn’t dare,” Krum replied. “You look beautiful, by the way. I’m honoured to be your date.”
The fanfare grew louder and the Great Hall doors swung open. They followed behind Fleur and Davies in the procession down the pathway the collective crowd had made by splitting in half. Behind them, Cedric Diggory walked with Cho Chang and Harry and Parvati brought up the rear.
As she passed through the crowd on Viktor’s arm, she spotted Ron glowering with Padma beside him and smirked. Told you, Ron.
She then searched the crowd for Fred. His red hair and height made him easy to spot amongst the sea of students. He was eyeing her as if he wanted to devour her whole. She raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. He looked so handsome in his dress robes; they were long and black with a medium-brown vest and a black ribbon rather than a tie, tied in a bow.
Only a few hours until midnight, she thought playfully.
Her smirk grew as she noticed that Angelina elbowed Fred for looking at Hermione just a moment too long.
The next few hours passed in a blur. There was their first dance, where Viktor twirled her with an easy grace around the dancefloor. Then everyone was invited out to dance. Hermione smiled when McGonagall and Dumbledore came out together, as well as Hagrid and Madame Maxime. After a few more songs, Harry and Parvati were quick to sit down and Ron and Padma never even got up from their chairs. Hermione couldn’t understand why. This was the best night of her life!
It had been about an hour and half when the Weird Sisters were introduced as surprise guests! The teachers and adults left the dance floor, leaving the crowd comprised entirely of students. The young witches and wizards rushed forward to cheer and scream as they started singing their hit, “Dance Like a Hippogriff” and Hermione felt Viktor’s arms wrap protectively around her waist to shield her from the jostling and bustling.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Fred frowning in her direction, not keen on her dancing with Krum. Knowing that she wouldn’t get caught amongst the action of the crowd, Hermione blew Fred a kiss and mouthed, A few more hours! This made Fred’s frown turn into a grin and his chest puffed up with pride. He turned his attention back to Angelina and started dancing to the music with her, having renewed energy. Hermione let Krum spin her around, turning her this way and that, encouraging her to jump, shake her head and let loose!
When the Weird Sisters took a break from their set, Krum led Hermione out of the main crowd to where the tables were gathered. He promised he would get them a drink and left her side. She spun around, in an excited whirlwind, and brought her hands up to her head. She could barely believe it! A sour Ron caught her eye when she stopped spinning and she sighed, crossing over to where her best friends sat. Harry also looked glum. Parvati and Padma had left them to sulk in peace. It almost made Hermione laugh. She tried to lighten their mood.
“Hot, isn’t it?” she asked as she sat down on Harry’s right side. She was sweating from dancing so much. “Viktor’s gone to get drinks. Would you care to join us?”
“No,” Ron replied, snide. “We’d not care to join you and Viktor.”
Hermione was surprised at his tone. “What’s got your wand in a knot?” she questioned.
When Ron spoke, it was as if his answer had been obvious. “He’s a Durmstrang… You’re fraternizing with the enemy!”
“The enemy?!” Hermione repeated, growing flustered. “Who was it wanting his autograph?”
Poor Harry’s head was turning back and forth in between them like he was watching a tennis match.
“Besides,” she continued on, “- the whole point of the Tournament is international magical cooperation… to make friends.”
Ron’s upper lip curled in a sneer.
“I think he’s got a bit more than friendship on his mind,” he implied.
This last comment hit hard for Hermione.
After everything Ron had seen her go through in the last few weeks with Skeeter writing rumours about her, all the pain and teasing she had endured – to imply that Viktor was only interested in her in a romantic way hurt her.
What? I can’t make other friends besides you two? She stood up, angry and walked away, stopping to turn back only for a moment. Instead of a petty comment, she forced herself to bite her tongue and walked off. Crossing the Great Hall over to where Viktor had gone to get punch, Hermione passed Fred and Angelina, who sat at a table eating some hors d’oeuvres. Fred saw her distress and motioned towards her but Angelina stopped him and grabbed his arm.
“What is with you, tonight?” Hermione heard Angelina ask. “Fred – Fred, are you listening to me?”
She reached Viktor and took the glass of punch gratefully. She turned her charm on and met some of his fellow Durmstrang students, all of whom complimented her on her appearance. It felt nice to be admired. Some of the young men even joked that they wouldn’t mind asking her for a dance, if Viktor would allow it. As the conversation continued, Hermione found herself relaxing and even laughing along with Viktor and his friends.
Another hour had passed and the Weird Sisters had started to sing their slow songs for the evening. Hermione had separated from Viktor and chatted amicably with Seamus, Dean and Parvati when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around with an expectant smile, hoping for Fred. They ended up being Ron. The smile fell from her face.
“Can I have a word?” he asked. She sighed and excused herself from their friends, standing before him with her arms crossed.
“What is it, Ronald? Do be quick about it. What could you possibly have to say, now?”
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Ron said. “About the Krum stuff. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I’m just trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” Hermione repeated. Her nostrils flared, a trait that appeared when she was starting to anger.
“I don’t want him to hurt you,” Ron added. The brightest witch scoffed and pushed past her best friend, headed for the exit of the Great Hall. She hated when Ron pretended to know what was best for her. She could think for herself. To her annoyance, he followed after her.
“Go away, Ron,” she snapped. She tried to walk faster but couldn’t because of her heels.
Ron finally decided to be blunt. “Bloody hell, Hermione!” he called from behind her. “He’s using you!”
Hermione uncrossed her arms as she continued to charge towards the open doors. “How dare you!” she exclaimed. “Besides, I can take care of myself.”
“I doubt it,” Ron retorted. “He’s way too old.”
Hermione wanted to laugh in his face as angry tears sprung up in her eyes. “What? What? That’s what you think?!”
Ron decided to be smug. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s what I think!” It was his turn to push past her now, to physically have the upper hand.
Hermione wasn’t having it. “You know the solution then, don’t you?” she shouted. Ron smirked; it was a challenge.
“Go on.”
She had had enough and moved to stand in front of Ron, effectively blocking his path. When she addressed him, she screamed, releasing all of the anger and frustration she felt towards him. Tears streamed down her face. I am not going to be made to feel guilty for bruising his ego!
“Next time there is a ball, pluck up the courage and ask me before somebody else does. And not as a last resort!”
She watched as Ron shrunk at her response and he sidestepped away from her quickly. Good!
“Well, that’s just completely off the point,” he stammered before he looked past her shoulder. The name of their friend was said like a prayer, hoping for backup. “Harry!”
Hermione whirled round on her bespectacled best friend. “Where have you been?!” she demanded. “Never mind, off to bed, both of you!” Harry was confused at her anger and looked to Ron for clarity, quickly sidestepping Hermione as well.
“What did you do?” she heard him whisper. But Ron’s words were louder so that Hermione could hear.
“They get scary when they get older,” he remarked. Hermione spun on the spot and screamed after her best friends, charging up a few of the steps.
“Ron, you spoiled everything!”
When it was clear they wouldn’t stop, Hermione sunk down in place on the stairs and let herself cry, removing her heels. She had been right. Tonight was the first night of the rest of her life. And it would be the last night where she ever allowed herself to feel inferior over something Ronald Weasley, or anybody, would ever say again.
Her crying had reduced to sniffles by the time Krum found her a few minutes later. He slowly approached her and sat down beside her on the stairs. Slowly, so as not to startle her, he wrapped his right arm around her shoulders.
“How can I make you feel better?” he asked in a whisper, so as not to be overheard by the surrounding students. “I can get you hot chocolate?” When Hermione shook her head, he sighed. “You know, your friend, Ronald, is not always nice,” he added in passing.
Hermione laughed ruefully.
“Ron means well, I suppose,” she said after a pause. “He just has a funny way of showing it sometimes.”
“If by funny, you mean, yelling at you in front of your friends and embarrassing you, sure, he’s funny,” Krum said dryly. With his left hand, he patted her knee once. “I’m thankful you came as my date, Herm-own-ninny. I had fun.”
“I did too,” Hermione replied as she wiped at her nose with the back of her hand quickly. Her crying has caused it to run. She sniffled once again and then sighed. “I can’t believe the Weird Sisters came.”
Krum chuckled. “Do you want to go back in? We still have about an hour left.”
Hermione nodded. “Sure.” She slowly stood up, picking up her discarded heels in her right hand. Her left hand moved to rest on Viktor’s offered right and he led her into the Great Hall for the second time that evening. It was dimly lit, save for the light of the enchanted candles and some magicked projections. In fact, most of the light came from just the dance floor. The rest of the Hall was shrouded in darkness. Hermione let her shoes rest on a nearby chair and allowed Viktor to lead her to the middle of open dancing space. She smiled up at the Bulgarian Seeker.
“Thank you for seeing me for the real me,” she said after a while. “As friends go, I love Harry and Ron, but I feel like sometimes, they see me as their smart friend who can help them with assignments or my brilliant thoughts – never just me. For the record, you make me feel special, too.”
This made Viktor smile. “You’re welcome. It’s what friends are for,” he said. They said nothing more and slowly swayed back and forth to the lilting music of the Weird Sisters’ ballad. When the last song of the night had dwindled down to an end, the clock tower struck the first chime of midnight. As if the entirety of the room had been programmed to a Muggle timer, the Great Hall became fully illuminated to its original state; bright and golden lighting, enchanted candles in the ceiling, falling snow. Everything was normal again.
However, the change in lighting had caused some gasps and wolf-whistles from the remaining staff and students alike. As the darkness had been uncovered, anybody or anything hiding amongst its shadows could be seen clear as day. And, in one of those just uncovered dark spots, Angelina was wrapped around Fred with her tongue in his mouth, a leg wrapped around his waist. He had her pushed up against the wall with his eyes closed and fingers running through her hair. He was actually snogging her back. Hermione’s head was spinning.
The clock tower had struck its final bell. Midnight had officially arrived. Fred Weasley was officially hers although he was very clearly on the way to being inside someone else… Her head continued to spin out of control until –
Hermione was violently ill all over Krum’s dress boots.
Author's Note: What will happen when they visit the Burrow for Christmas holiday? How can Fred talk his way out of this one? What will Hermione do? As always, dear readers, any feedback is appreciated, whether by comment or Kudos! Thank you for reading so far!