“Honestly, Hermione, honey, you look FINE in whatever you wear!” Harry groaned as another dress was thrown at him.

“Harry, I’m not going until I look perfect so take a seat. It’ll be a while.” He threw the pink dress to the floor, folded his arms and slumped onto the bed.

“But you ARE beautiful in whatever you wear! Come on! You’ll look great! Can we just go?” He pouted.

“That’s what’s wrong with you boys, it’s too easy to get dressed. Just throw on a tuxedo or suit and you’ll look handsome as ever,” she went on, completely ignoring his remark. “But you see, women must spend hours to get dressed and look positively dazzling.” He couldn’t take it anymore. He had waited three hours for her to make her dress selection. Enough was enough. He got up from the bed, halted her frantic searching of the perfect dress and pulled her into a rough kiss. And after what seemed like hours, she finally slowly backed away from his kiss.

“Okay,” she whispered hoarsely, “g-give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be down.”

“All right,” he strained, gasping for breath as she was.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~--~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“Now remember, you only gave me fifteen minutes and that’s barely enough for makeup!” she called from upstairs.

“Just come down!” he shouted, ready to explode with anticipation. And come down she did. Like a sappy love movie, her feet delicately led her down the oakwood stairs, her fingers lightly caressing the handrail, her skin looking soft in the light. Her white dress sat perfectly on her waist and hips, her shoulders bare and her mother’s necklace could keep anyone in awe as she reached the base of the stairs. And he was speechless.

“He-Hermione … are you sure you have the right man?” he asked, half-joking, half-serious. She smiled and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“My prince charming is right here,” she whispered. He smiled widely and opened his arm in which she slipped her under.

“Well then come on, your kingdom awaits.”

---

The Great Hall was beautifully decorated, old professors, new professors, old students, old friends, old foes, everyone was showing up. There were muted non-stop fireworks in the bewitched sky above and lively music playing. Some couples were dancing and some were on the side. One of these couples consisted of a red-head and a blonde.

“Oh Ron!” Luna squealed. “Look at this! All our old schoolmates! Look at Neville! Married and expecting! And look at Dean! He’s finally got a girlfriend! I hear he’s going to propose soon. And look at Seamus! He’s got a girlfriend too! I hear he’s going to propose TONIGHT! And look at and Patil twins! They-”

“Honestly, Luna,” her husband interrupted, “you’re not going to do that to EVERY SINGLE person who comes in, are you?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she replied happily but suddenly, her face turned grave.

“Luna? Honey? What’s wrong?” Ron took a step forward and Luna threw herself on him.

“Oh Ron,” she quivered, “what if someone only remembers me as … Loony Lovegood?” Ron cringed at the name.

“If anyone dares to call you that,” he gritted, “I’ll kill them.” Luna smiled and kissed him but quickly pulled away and ran to the entrance.

“Harry! Hermione!” she shouted, pushed past the Slytherins and pulled them both into a hug.

“Need … air … Luna,” Harry groaned. Luna let go of him quickly and took Hermione hand to lead her away to a group of women chattering away in the corner. Ron approached Harry and hugged him too.

“Nice to see you made it, mate,” Ron smiled.

“Nice to see you’re on time,” Harry chuckled. The two friends walked around the Hall, shaking hands with old friends, shaking hands with new friends and congratulating the ones who were marrying.

“Feels odd, doesn’t it?” Ron asked.

“What?”

“To be here, in Hogwarts, nearly five years after we graduate, to see all these people who have really gotten somewhere in their lives.” Harry cocked an eyebrow. Ron was sort of sounding like Hermione now. That reminded him. Hermione. He looked around frantically. She wouldn’t slow dance with somebody, right? Right?! She knew how that made him feel. She knew he went crazy when someone touched her. He spun around many times until finally his eyesight rested on Hermione on the dance floor with Neville. Dancing. Just dancing. Not slow dancing. No physical contact, either. Just dancing. Harry took deep breaths. Good. Good good good. He slowly walked up to them once the song was done.

“Excuse me, but may I have this dance?” he asked. She cringed and took the hand of Dean, who had mysteriously showed up.

“Sorry, Mr. Charming,” she responded, “I have quite a line of suitors tonight.” She showed an apologetic face as he pouted.

“But I’ll save the salsa for you,” she winked. He grinned. It was as if Dean weren’t even there.

“You know I can’t dance the salsa, your highness,” he said truthfully.

“I’ll teach you,” she winked and danced off with Dean. Harry chuckled. "I’ll be looking forward to that."

---

It had been at least three hours, and Hermione’s feet were sore. She had danced with almost every single man who had asked her yet she was still saving the salsa for Harry. She knew he couldn’t dance the salsa and she’d been looking forward to teach him something. But for now, she went into the bathroom. She picked the cleanest stall and went in. Soon after, the door opened and in walked in two girls.

“Honestly, Cho, you really know how to dance, I’m telling you!”

“Well, thank you but you know what? I still haven’t danced with him.”

“Ugh, Harry again? Cho, come on! He’s with Hermione now!”

“I know? Isn’t it disgusting? Even when we were going out, I asked him a gazillion times and he kept saying ‘no, we're just friends.’ Pffft, look where they are now!”

“I think they make a cute couple.”

“No, honey. Harry is HOT. Hermione is just … ugghh. Did you see the dress she was wearing tonight?”

“Absolutely breathtaking.”

“Exactly. Who’s she trying to fool? Like she could ever be pretty. Seriously, I don’t know why Harry’s with her. She’s the same pathetic bookworm she was in school. He’ll totally get tired of her. She’ll do something stupid. He’ll get mad, then frustrated and then finally leave her. You see, Harry needs someone strong. Someone sexy. I mean, did you see her tonight? She didn’t even dance with him!”

“Cho, what is wrong with you?! He’s happy with her! You’re Cho Chang. You don’t pine away for guys! Why are you acting so weird all of a sudden? Do you … oh my god, do you still like him?

“Don’t be stupid ... of course I don’t.”

“Well then stop acting so ... so ... not you! Besides, I heard she was saving the salsa for him”

“I know. What kind of freak saves her fiancé a dance he can’t even dance?”

“You’re being rather bitter tonight, aren’t you?”

“I’m just thinking about what’s best for him. One of us should.”

Hermione couldn’t take it anymore. She pushed opened the stall door and ran out, sobbing. If she had not run so fast, she would have heard Cho’s voice saying, “Oh shit, was that who I think it was?”

---

“Oh yeah, Hermione? In the beautiful white dress? Yeah, she came with me,” Harry couldn’t help but brag to some past Hufflepuffs. “But it’s all a façade. We both know it’s me who can’t live without her. She needs a hero sometimes but one look, one word, one plea, one kiss, one hug and I’ll bring her to the moon.”

“Sounds like you’re head-over-heels in love, Harry,” Justin chuckled and took a sip of his drink.

“Oh, I am, Mr. Fletchley. Desperately, hopelessly, passionately, helplessly head over heels in love with Hermione Granger and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grinned and downed his drink.

“Speak of the devil,” Justin’s friend smiled and motioned to the woman behind Harry, who was quickly approaching.

“Angel,” Harry corrected him. The Hufflepuff apologized and went off to dance with his date as Justin went to get more punch.

“Hermione,” Harry smiled and bowed with his hand forward, “Would you do me a salsa dance?” But instead of going onto the floor, Hermione dragged him to the exit of the Great Hall.

“Hermione!” he shouted, completely confused, “What’s going on?”

“Harry,” she withheld her tears, “can we go home? Now? Please?” He knew better than to fight.

“Okay,” he nodded and led her outside.

---

She had been quiet the entire trip home and when they finally entered; he slammed his keys down on the floor.

“Okay, what is it, Hermione!?” he asked, anger rushing through, “I’ve been quiet this entire time, tell me what’s wrong!” Hermione looked at him. It was starting. He’d get mad, then frustrated and then he’d leave. He’d leave her. Tears formed in her eyes once more.

“Please don’t,” she whimpered.

”Please don’t what?” he asked weakly. He was nothing when she started crying. His backbone would mysteriously disappear.

“Please don’t,” she whimpered again.

“Please don’t what?” he asked, “Scream? Get mad? Shout? Please don’t what, Hermione? Please don’t what?!”

“PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, the tears falling and staining her beautiful white dress. Harry stood frozen; his knees almost buckling.

“Leave you?” he asked softly, taking a step forward, “Honey, I’d never leave you. I love you. What’s this about?”

“IwasinbathroomandandandChotalkingtosomeoneandallthisstufaboutmenotdeserving you and she’s right, Harry! What do you see in me?! I’m not pretty! This dress makes me look pretty! It’s all fake, Harry! I’m the ugliest witch in the world dressed in the prettiest dress in the world so that I can fool the whole world,” her last words came out in a sob and she feel forward, completely exhausted from everything. He caught her in his arms and she cried quietly into his shoulder. He was quiet. He was baffled. He was completely stunned. How could this woman crying in his arms think she was ugly? Was ‘ugly’ even in the dictionary? No, it wasn’t. What’s ugly? Oh yes, ‘ugly’ was ‘Cho Chang,’ and he made a mental note to strangle her the next time he saw her.

“Hermione,” he whispered in her ear, “I can’t believe you’d even think about that. You’re not ugly. You’re stunning. You’re bloody brilliantly sexy, as Ron would put it. You’re beautiful, Hermione. Why can’t you see that? Everyone else can. They all wanted to dance with you tonight.”
“No, they didn’t,” she cried, “Don’t make up lies for me, Harry. It’s just the dress. They’ve fallen in love with the beautiful dress.”

“It is a beautiful dress,” he admitted. She continued to cry in his shoulder.

“Hey,” he whispered a while later, “Do me a favour. Tell me what time it is.” She sighed and looked over at the clock.

“1:28 a.m.,” she responded and looked into his eyes, hoping she could for the rest of her life.

“That’s right,” he said. “It’s after midnight, Cinderella, and guess what?”

“What?”

“You’re still beautiful.”


AN: Special thanks once more to my BETA; Kate!