Hermione Granger stared intently out the window of the empty Gryffindor girl’s dormitory, watching the wind gently rustling the newly budded leaves of the trees outside of Hogwarts. It seemed as though the world was bathing in the pink light of the sunset. The other girls had left the dormitory just moments before, in full regalia for the masquerade ball that evening in the Great Hall. Hermione had declined the invitation to walk down with them. She had told them that she had to finish fixing her hair. This was not the complete truth, for she did need to put it back in a clip but that would only take a second or two. The real reason Hermione wanted to remain was simple. She wanted to think without the constant chatter of excited girls.
Not that Hermione wasn’t looking forward to that night. No, far from it, but she did not show it in the same way. Maybe this was because Hermione was the only one of the girls in her dorm that still lacked a boyfriend. So while the other girls did not need to worry about finding someone, she was counting on this night to change that. Why, she was in her Sixth Year, she should have at least been kissed by now. Not that she’d found anyone she wanted to kiss yet. But, she thought reasonably, masquerades were for meeting new people, weren’t they? After all, you usually couldn’t even tell who your best friends were.
Hermione sighed and walked, though slowly and regretfully, away from the window. She knew that if she didn’t put that clip in her hair and get going to the Great Hall soon she would be late. If there was one thing Hermione disliked, it was being late. She walked up to the mirror, and, taking her white hair clip off of her dresser, put it in her hair. Then, donning her white mask, she stepped back so she could see more of herself. The way Lavender had combed her hair it was more extremely wavy than bushy. Her white sleeveless and floor-length dress shimmered in the dim light. Hermione barely recognized herself, and she was sure no one else could either. That is, with the exception of the few girls that had seen her in the dorm.
Hermione took a deep breath and began to walk to the door. Maybe her instincts would be right, and she could find someone tonight. Even if she didn’t, was she really any worse off than she was? Well, she thought with resolve, there was only one way to find out.
Draco Malfoy glared at his fellow Slytherin, Goyle. They were in their dormitory just a few minutes before they needed to leave for the masquerade. “What do you mean you know it’s me?” he asked indignantly. “Of course you do. You saw me before I put on the mask, you idiot.”
Goyle winced slightly. “But, y’know, the hair…” he said, unsure of whether or not Draco really wanted an answer, “It gives you away.”
Draco muttered, “Give me that!” and grabbed a hand mirror out of Goyle’s hand. Looking himself over carefully, he admitted that the Malfoy hair was rather a giveaway. “We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?” he said, grabbing his wand and pointing it at his head.
Goyle’s eyes widened. “D-d-don’t hurt yourself, Draco!” he stuttered. “Just because your hair makes it easy to see who you are…”
Draco glared even harder at Goyle. “I’m not going to hurt myself, you dolt!” he snapped. “I’m going to turn it black.” With that he muttered “Ravenious Cantius!” and his hair turned pitch black. “There,” Draco said with satisfaction. “Perfect.”
Goyle nodded nervously. He knew if he said something Draco disapproved of, he’d be in for it. He rubbed his arm, remembering the last spell Draco had cast on him. It was not something he’d forget anytime soon.
Draco was looking himself over carefully. “I don’t want Pansy to recognize me.” He said, more to himself than Goyle. That girl was obsessed. She followed him everywhere. Even to the restroom, occasionally. It was rather scary.
Goyle looked at Draco in confusion. “Don’t you like Pansy?” he asked.
“Yeah, I like her,” Draco sneered sarcastically, “I like her on the other side of the world, obsessed with some other poor boy.”
Goyle looked rather confused at this, but Draco just told him to forget it. Goyle wasn’t exactly the smartest student at Hogwarts, and everyone knew it. In fact, everyone knew who the smartest student was. Hermione Granger, without a doubt. Draco sneered at the very thought of the disgusting little mudblood, but he decided not to worry about her and ruin his evening. There was already a good enough chance of having it ruined by a rather crazed Pansy Parkinson.
“We’d better get going, Goyle,” Draco said, walking towards the door. “We don’t want to be late.”
Hermione arrived in the Great Hall just a few minutes after eight, the appointed time, but it seemed that many students were there already and nervously milling around. It was a rather awkward situation, with no friends to form cliques with. Dumbledore himself had specifically asked students to not wear House colors, as to not give away clues to their identity. That was probably why Hermione saw little of the usual yellows, reds, greens and blues of the four Houses of Hogwarts on the students themselves, but the Hall itself was decorated in this manner. Banners of the four House animals and colors dotted the Great Hall. Hermione had to admit that it wasn’t the most creative decoration style, but it was rather nice.
Hermione decided to walk over to the punch table and get herself something to drink. Just as she was pouring herself a glass, a girl skidded into her. Hermione very nearly spilled punch all over herself and the girl, but managed to move her arm over the bowl quickly and it all simply dumped back in.
“Are you all right?” she asked the girl, who had slipped and was now on the floor.
Great job, Ginny, Ginevra Weasley thought to herself. You just almost killed yourself and nearly caused that poor girl to spill punch all over herself in three seconds flat, you clumsy idiot!
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ginny said, her face growing rather red, letting the girl help her up. Dusting herself off, she continued, “It’s just my pride that’s hurt. I was just trying to get a glass of punch, but the floor was rather slippery, and, well…” Ginny trailed off. The girl smiled.
“It’s OK. Do I know you?” she asked, looking Ginny over carefully. “I could swear I do…”
Ginny was about to say that the girl didn’t look like anyone she knew, but did seem rather familiar when Dumbledore called for everyone’s attention.
“I trust you are all having a good time. The Weird Sisters, who you may recall were the guests at our Yule Ball a couple of years ago, were good enough to return.” Dumbledore turned to them and clapped, and the students followed suit. When they were finished, he continued, “They will be playing shortly. But, just so you understand a few things, I must explain this ball. All students are required to keep their identity secret until the end of the evening. If asked, a student may tell another what year they are in, but no more. At the end of the evening, all students are required to remove their masks. Now, if you all understand this, I’ll turn the evening over to the Weird Sisters!” Dumbledore smiled and stepped away, and the Weird Sisters began to play.
Ginny turned back to the girl. “So, what were you saying?”
Draco Malfoy finished listening to Dumbledore’s announcement and scanned the room for signs of Pansy. So far, he had seen no one that looked like her. But she could be hiding, waiting to spring on him from behind. Oh how he hated it when she did that! It’s as if it wasn’t enough to let him at least have a moment to think of an excuse to leave. Not to mention she scared him half to death when she practically jumped on him from behind.
Draco was beginning to feel a little paranoid, though he knew he had reason to be, so he began to scan the room for someone he wouldn’t mind being with. He had lost track of Crabbe and Goyle a few minutes before, and he wasn’t planning on finding them again soon. Their blantant stupidity got tiring very quickly. So who was left? Maybe, he thought, an idea forming in his head, I could find a girl. A girl that was pretty enough to make Pansy jealous. Then again, an ugly girl would make Pansy jealous, anyway. That’s how obsessed she was. But a pretty girl would be nice, anyway.
Maybe he could convince her to stick around him after the ball, too. Pansy just might finally take the hint that Draco did not like her and never would. It was perfect. It was foolproof. There was only one problem.
How in the name of Merlin would he find a girl like that that would stick around him if she wasn’t being forced?
Hermione smiled at Ginny. She had figured out quickly that the girl was Ginny, but she wanted to see if Ginny recognized her. “You are Ginny, right?” Hermione whispered.
Ginny looked extremely confused. “How did you -”
“It’s Hermione, Ginny. I know your voice. Not to mention the red hair.” Hermione said in the same whisper. She did not want anyone to know that she, the perfect Hermione Granger, was breaking the secrecy rule no more than five minutes after it was made
Ginny’s eyes widened. “Hermione…but…Merlin, Hermione, you don’t look like yourself. I mean, you look good. I mean, not that you don’t usually…oh, nevermind…”
Hermione let out a small laugh. “I know what you mean, Ginny. It’s OK. If you can’t recognize me, who can?”
Draco’s eyes caught on shimmering white fabric. A dress. A dress that belonged to a beautiful girl.
She was talking to another, shorter and redheaded girl by the punch table. The redhead looked amazed and said something to the beautiful mystery girl, who laughed.
Merlin, that laugh. Her entire face lit up, or what he could see of it did. Her eyes sparkled under the mask. Even at such a distance Draco could see that.
It was fate. It had to be. Draco was not about to let the moment pass him by. He started walking quickly in the direction of the two girls.
For once in his life, Pansy Parkinson was not in his mind at all.
Hermione was still smiling and talking casually with Ginny when she caught sight of a boy. A boy that was staring at her with determination and just a touch of awe in his eyes. And he was walking towards her very quickly.
His gaze was melting Hermione, and her heart did something funny. She wasn’t sure what to do about all of this. Some part of her heard Ginny speaking to her, but it did not get all the way to her brain. Only one of Hermione’s senses was working properly, and that was her sight. All she could see was the boy, racing across the floor of the Great Hall to get to her. She was sure that’s what he was doing.
Somehow, her hearing started working perfectly when the boy reached her. Because she heard him ask her to dance.
A/N: This is the first Harry Potter story I’ve written. Please review!