While You Were In A Coma

As promised by Dumbledore, the topic of his classes had changed. In transfiguration, Professor McGonagall had agreed to teach them simple spells that changed the color of your hair and eyes. In Potions, Professor Snape had grudgingly started on a voice-changing potion after clearly stating that such potion shouldn't be wasted in stupid occasions as balls. In Herbology they were seeing a plants' sap, which would darken or lighten your skin tone (depending on the dissolution) for a day. Right then in charms they were learning the use of the identifying bracelet.

"This is called the date-let," the tiny figure of Professor Flitwick spoke from his tower of books holding a simple thin silver bracelet. "Each of you will charm your date-let to recognize you, then if you are going with a partner you will exchange your bracelet with your date. The point of the date-let is that it will glow when you are near your date, so you will recognize your costumed-clad date and don't end up going with the wrong person."

The duration of the class was passed practicing the wand movement and incantation. If you were going to actually attend the ball with a date, you had to go to Flitwick for a bracelet.

Harry and Hermione, after grabbing some sandwiches, escaped to the open ground to rest under a shade of a tree. They spent an exceptional amount of time eating their sandwiches, chewing at an incredibly slow rate. Harry was so conscious of the bracelet that was in his pocket, that he swore it was burning the fabric off his robe.

When they arrived to the final bites, there was nothing left to distract them. They shifted in their places for a few seconds, until Harry found the situation too uncomfortable to bear. He carefully extracted the silver bracelet from his pocket. He was surprised to see, when he finally turned towards Hermioe that she had also the bracelet in her hands.

"Should we start right now?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Well, I think so, just to make...the terms official," Hermione answered sounding very business like. Harry chuckled at her choice of words, which made the tension a little lighter. "Now...how was it...?" Harry mused as he took out his wand, remembering what they just saw in class, he put on his 'date-let' on his right hand, gave it a hard tap and pronounced the incantation, "Agnosco Harry Potter." A sharp shine went through the bracelet signifying the charm was done. Hermione had done the same thing.

"Now what?" Harry asked as he took of his date-let.

"You give me yours, I'll give you mine," Hermione recited.

Harry nodded in mutual agreement and before he could change his mind, he extended his arms and grabbed Hermione by the wrist, lifting her arm, all the while scooting closer to her, until they were at arms length.

Hermione, with every effort was trying not to be consumed by the hot sensation that was spreading throughout her body, originated by Harry's touch. She closed her fingers together so that the bracelet could slide in easily.

Harry was so ready to do this simply procedure of putting on a bracelet, but somehow his hand and brain stopped communicating the instant that he had touched her skin. It probably took him a whole minute to slowly slide the bracelet onto her hand.

Only taking a few minutes to admire the shinning bracelet now adorning her wrist, and let's be truthful to fully return to her normal temperature, Hermione proceeded to gently lift Harry's hand from where it was lazily resting on his lap. She gripped his hand from his fingers and slowly slided the bracelet into his wrist. Hermione dropped his hand immediately before he could tell how much she was sweating. God! Is it really this hot outside?

Although Harry's gaze was set purposely in the bracelet, his body was being enveloped with a heart-accelerating sensation.

Harry completely flustered, cleared his throat before he moved back. "Well I think that makes it official enough."

Hermione only had enough power to nod in agreement, as they both stared at the soft silver glow that was now emitting from their bracelets.

***

Although some students exclaimed that time had passed at the speed of a firebolt, for Harry it wasn't true. Mainly because his ballroom classes made the minutes seem like hours. Harry and Hermione had still experienced many problems while trying to dance. They had barely managed to get a grip on the Waltz, when they had started with the swing. By the time the weekend of the ball had arrived, the class had just seen the basic steps of the swing. And Harry was glad about that; he didn't even want to ponder about when the time came for the complex turns.

Halloween had finally arrived and there was an electric spark of excitement in the air to prove it. A silent agreement seemed to be formed between the dorm mates of the different bedrooms, as to keep their disguises a secret. For one by one they went to change in the bathroom and before they could come out of the bathroom the rest of the dorm mates would climb into their beds and close their drapes until they heard the distinctive click of the door.

Hermione was currently making a list of the things she needed to get ready, while Pavarti and Lavender were in deep discussion. Though Pavarti was the first to make a big deal with the disguises remaining a mystery, she was also the one who had her disguise draped along the length of her bed, obvious for everyone to see.

The fresh smell of grass emanated from Pavarti's thick green skirt, upon it was authentic coconut bikini top (why Pavarti would want to have real coconuts in that part of the body Hermione didn't know), a crown of fresh tropical flowers complete with matching wrist bands were laid beside them, the colors were alive and together Hermione surmised made a perfect Hawaiian typical dress. But she still thought that if Pavarti really didn't want them to know about it, she would have been more careful.

Hermione was caged within her bed, drapes carefully closed, waiting to hear the noise when her dorm mates left. She was sitting Indian style, her legs tightly crossed, admiring the still closed purple box that contained her brand new dress. She was so excited and highly anticipated wearing the dress, but she still didn't want to take it out of the box, in case one of the girls gave a peek inside her bed. Yet lust got the better of her thus she sneaked a peek inside her shoebox.

At last the door clicked and Hermione poked her head to scan her surroundings. When she saw the cost clear, she immediately leaped out of her bed carrying both the boxes to the bathroom. She placed the boxes in a safe place and ran out to her room again, kneeling on the floor, she bended low, until her hand reached below the bed searching for her research material she had collected (vulgarly referred to as magazines). When she had finally gathered everything she needed, she locked the bathroom door, and proceeded to take a shower first. Hermione took a great amount of time bathing, using a scented shampoo with combining soap, applied lotion on her arms and face. When she finished she put on her bathrobe, to not smear or dirty up her dress. She was looking intently at her reflection, wasting so many minutes; she still wasn't sure how to comb her hair. Even though nobody could see her, Hermione shyly opened the many magazines she had collected during the past weeks, some by secretly subscribing to Witch Weekly and others sent by petition from her mother. She browsed, both Muggle and witch magazines, looking for a spell or a photo of a good hair do. The answer to her dilemma was finally found in the picture of a model in an evening gown. Hermione made the magazine float in front of her, so that she could observe the particularities of the hairstyle. But before she could start to use the spells she had learned with Professor McGonagall to change the color of her hair and length of her hair, she had to decide the actual the color and length that she wanted. She did the length first, as it was the easiest part of the decision, murmuring the correct spell; she passed the length of her hair with her wand, extending the movement until she went to mid back, her hair growing to follow the wand. Hermione ran her fingers all along the newfound length of her hair, carefully observing the change in the mirror. Now came the difficult decision: the color. Should she stay on the safe side and just lighten her cinnamon locks? Or...should she get radical? Before she could change her mind, Hermione took her wand and spoke the needed spell, in a glimmering rain of color, her hair changed. She was a surprised at the radical change her face received; she stood various minutes glancing at different angles at her mirror, when she came to the conclusion that she needed a lighter tone of skin to combine better with her new shade of hair. When she was finished, she continued with her steps to arrange her hair. The difficult part arrived when it was time for the make-up. Hermione had never even used concealer, but today was a special night and she had to look different. On this aspect she had to depend totally on spells, she had absolutely no knowledge of the Muggle way. So with spells extracted from the Witch Weekly Magazines, Hermione ended with a fresh look. The only thing left to change was her eyes. She wanted something different, to change from her normal brown ones. She didn't have to wait to know what color to use, she had always fantasized having a different color.

Now all that was left was the dress.

*

The bathroom was full of steam as Harry came out of the shower after the longest bath he had taken in his life. Drying his hair with a towel, he went to his room to put on his chosen costume. It took him less than ten minutes to change. What he did spend the rest of the evening was trying to figure out the spells for changing the color of his hair and eyes. After various tries, and after turning the tips of his hair a wild color blue, he finally changed the tone of his hair. There weren't many decisions to make for the color; after all he refused to change it to blond, not wanting to have anything in common with Malfoy. What had actually pained him had been to alter the color of his eyes. But otherwise he would be found out very quickly. Not finding it necessary to change the tone of his skin he was done with the alterations. Now...what to do about his hair?

***

She walked out of the portrait hole, nervously touching the gauzy white fabric of her dress. It was extremely simple, but she liked the idea behind the dress. Almost like a tunic, but given fullness and shape by thin gold trimming on her chest that clung the material closer to her body. While with her other hand she twirled the new length of hair, arranged in thick waves of dark blonde. Her hair was adorned with a loose crown of fresh white lilies with dark green leaves.

As she made her way to the Great Hall, a hand suddenly grabbed her firmly by her wrist and twisted her in the other direction until she was facing a young man. As soon as her eyes fell upon his face, she tried to recognize him, but remembered at the second that they were in disguise, so she couldn't actually know who he was by looking at him. But that didn't stop her from observing him with detail. He was tall, but that wasn't enough to discover his identity. With a lean build that was covered with rigid gold chest armor, molded with the curvature of a man chest. The armor covered a plain white shirt with another overlapping deep red garment that was cut in thick ridges. Scanning his entire outfit from the leather sandals to the short dark brown hair, the conclusion of the analysis was that he was dressed as a Roman soldier. An ancient sword strapped to his waist was proof enough.

With the hand he had grabbed her wrist with; he moved it down until he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his lips, kissing it lightly. "You look...wonderful, what are you? A Greek goddess?" he asked in a light tone she didn't recognize, with confusion in his voice, as if he couldn't believe what he was saying.

Blushing furiously from both the kissing and the compliment, she could hardly answer. "A forest nymph, actually."

His eyes were traveling all through her body and she couldn't help but fidget. He seemed to be distracted as he took various minutes to continue the conversation. "Well...you look dazzling...Ginny," he spoke, struggling to end the sentence.

Ginny was surprised to be so easily recognize. "How did you know it was me?"

He was still staring so piercingly to her face, but recollected himself and glanced to the side. "Well you know me, when I want something; I do everything to achieve it."

"Do I... know you? I mean..." Ginny asked anxious to find out who he was, and perhaps understand why her hand was burning with his touch.

He let out a soft chuckle, and arranged his hair. "Yeah well, I would guess that without the scar it is difficult to place me."

At his words, Ginny's world was instantly brightened. "Harry?" she asked excitedly.

"Am I that easy to discover?" he joked as he rubbed her hand with his thumb.

Ginny couldn't believe what was happening. "What are you doing here?" Ginny asked, feeling her head lighter with each stroke of his thumb.

"Waiting for you actually," he said in a cool voice.

"Me? Why?" she continued, confused about Harry's motive.

He shifted in his place and moved to take her other hand. "I know it's presumptuous," he said in a tone that declared the contrary, "but I tried to do this since the ball was announced...I just want you to go to the Masquerade Ball with me."

Something inside of Ginny seemed to burst, filing her entire body. For more than a minute, Ginny couldn't believe what she was hearing. Harry! Harry Potter was asking HER to the ball. HARRY POTTER was asking her to the BALL!!!! "But...but what..."

"Please," Harry spoke with great difficulty, the words barely coming out of his mouth, "Just say that you will be my date tonight."

Unnoticed by Harry, Ginny stealthily pinched her arm, really not conceiving what was happening. Ginny could only nod in agreement; afraid she could let out an unladylike squeal of happiness.

"Perfect," he expressed in a controlled manner, matching Ginny's smile with a smirk. "Shall we go then?" He offered as he and Ginny started walking towards the Great Hall.

***

Harry was pacing nervously around the entire circumference of the common room, berating himself with every step he took. Now that dozens of boys and girls were walking by him in all kinds of costumes, Harry knew that not knowing each other's disguises was a big mistake. How was he supposed to know which girl was Hermione? He couldn't just go walking up to every girl with his arm stretched out in front of him hoping to see if his bracelet glowed like the rest of the Gryffindor boys were doing.

He stopped and looked up towards the girl's dorm room; still nobody in sight. In a useless effort to try to control his nerves he tried to focus on the advice Sirius had given him days before. Although he had to admit that what Remus had told him had been the thing to stick more forcefully to his mind. It had been just as Sirius had finished talking with Harry, when Sirius had began walking away towards the main door, covered again with the Invisibility cloak, when Remus silently stopped Harry from walking and whispered to him, "If you are going to use 'the rules', just try to use them at your heart's discretion." Harry had to agree with Remus after hearing every one of the infamous rules.

But now as his 'non-date' date was about to start, he found certain comfort in having some sort of plan with the so-called rules. So, what was the first?

Rule #1, a tiny voice identical to Sirius' said in his head. The first thing to do as soon as you see your date (Harry remembered having to clarify to Sirius that it wasn't a date) is to shower her with compliments about how she looks ("But be sincere," Lupin had interrupted that time).

Okay, compliments...(showing a big blank). Think, think...He had told Pavarti the night of the Yule Ball that she looked 'nice', but on this occasion it seemed insufficient. Need to practice, "Hello Hermione," Harry mustered, shaking hands with the air in front of him, "you look very shiny tonight." Harry winced, thankful that everybody who was looking at him oddly for talking to himself didn't recognize him. Shiny?! What was that? "You look very smooth...NO!...sleek?" Was it his imagination or were all of his compliments better suited for a broom rather than a girl? He better think about something good, Hermione should be down any moment.

Just when he was going to continue practicing, this feeling hit him, he recognized it immediately. It was the same feeling that he had gotten when he meet up accidentally with Hermione in front of the Great Hall doors. He knew it was ridiculous to consider it, but it was as if he could sense Hermione's presence. He scanned the room, there were many girls walking about, one dressed as a medieval harlequin, another with a very antique puffy skirt dress, and many more that just seemed to blend in the background, when he saw a specific girl, and something inside him just clicked. Mutely he started walking towards her, bumping as he walked with chairs and tables, as he found it impossible to take his eyes away from her. Could she really be Hermione? This girl standing at the base of the dormitory stairway was so...so...different. A slender figure adorned by a lustrous heavy fabric of a sharp bright ruby red color. Thin straps clung to her shoulders, falling straight to a round sensible neckline; her body was embraced with a tight corset-type bodice that marked her waist. The skirt flowed in a straight 'A' line to the floor. From the back, some of the material was hold together below her lower back in a kind of a tail that was just some inches longer than the rest of the skirt. Her skin was a velvety tone of soft peach; her hair was arranged in a complicated but elegant twist, with long curly tendrils of hair falling all along the hairline. But perhaps what was more entrancing was the deep scarlet color of her hair. It seemed to glow from the touch of the moon rays coming through the windows. When he finally was close enough, he clearly saw her baby-blue eyes staring directly at him. With his throat completely dry, he barely had the capacity to utter her name, "Hermione," with a dazed tone that denounced recognition.

*

Hermione was totally conscious that she was extremely late; she appeared to be one of the last girls to go down the stairs, for there wasn't any sound coming from the rest of the rooms. It is just that she was so nervous, and the worst part is that she didn't know why. Last year she had been extremely cool when going out with Viktor. It hadn't bothered her that he was an International Quidditch player; he was just been another boy to her. And the night had flowed incredibly smoothly, not counting Ron's obvious rants of jealousy. Her logic was suffering an obvious malfunction, why was it that with Viktor, an older boy she had just met and this incredibly sought after guy, hadn't disturbed her nerves one bit. But with Harry, this lovable best friend, she had known for five years, the idea was just unstabling.

Hermione walked deliberately slowly down the stairs, silently wondering if Harry was already in the common room waiting for her. As she mentally imagined him dressed in all kind of wild disguises, blushing at certain mental images (Hermione was sure Harry was totally anti-loin cloth), she suddenly was aware that she hadn't a slightest idea of how Harry was going to dress. How was she even going to recognize him? She wasn't aware of the radius you had to be from your partner for the bracelets to work. She suddenly stopped dead in her tracks, just as he came to the last step of the staircase and saw an entire male population walking around in all kinds of costumes. Was Harry the one clanking around in a shiny silver armor suit? Or was he the one dressed as the huge brown hippogriff (how did he get those horse legs?) that was trotting along the common room? (why did boys always chose the strangest costumes?). But as she scanned various more costumes none seemed right. Just as she was starting to get desperate, a kind of lurch tugged at her stomach, a now familiar feeling appeared to happen whenever...Harry...She shifted her gaze to a direct path, until a wave of warmth enveloped her just from looking directly at him.

He looked...was there a word to describe him. His frame looked tall with a lean figure that seemed enhanced by the black fabric that his costume was made of. It looked like a tuxedo from the nineteen-century, cut to the waist from the front and with a long tail in the back. His trousers also black with a crisp line elongated his legs. The singular slim waist that always made Harry look so thin suited him perfectly as the dark scarlet color of a low vest marked it clearly. A white bow tie encircled his neck, completing the ensemble. And Hermione didn't know if he had padding at the shoulder, but the tux jacket made his shoulders broader. He looked completely elegant and composed with a straight strong walk as he made way directly towards her. His hair was probably the only characteristic that gave him away, as it was as unruly as ever, but it looked different with a light brown shade. When he was finally looking directly at her, she saw herself in the hazel of his eyes. "Harry," she said conveying in his single name doubt with certainty.

"Hermione," Harry said with more strength this time, "you...you look...beautiful." He knew that wasn't what Sirius had meant with his Rule #1, but he hadn't thought about it, the word just came out naturally, as if it was always there at the tip of his tongue, and it was waiting for the opportunity.

Harry's low muster had electrified every single nerve of her body. It was just a simple word and she had heard it millions of times when people described things, "What a beautiful tone of lipstick," (that was particularly from Pavarti) or "what a beautiful grade" (that was particularly from herself). But it was more because of Harry's tone when he uttered it that gave the word meaning and strength, accompanied by the look of honesty from his eyes. "Thank you," Hermione murmured hiding her gaze momentarily, while waiting for her face to recover its normal temperature. "And Harry...you look...very handsome," she whispered as her temperature rose again. Feeling it was unfair that there wasn't another adjective she could use to describe how good he looked, for she feared he wouldn't be too flattered if she too called him beautiful.

Harry had never been more embarrassed before. Although he was always recognized by his Boy Who Lived status, and girls followed him just for that, he never considered himself to look anything remotely handsome. But as always, with every word that came out of Hermione's mouth it was believable. "Thanks," he responded shyly.

They stood for several minutes, feeling the uncomfortable silence nervousness brought. Hermione felt the necessity to escape it, so she said the first thing that she noticed. "You don't have your glasses," she noticed with a small tone of deception. Because even though his eyes could be seen clearer without the obstruction of lenses and his face was lighted, his bifocals seemed to be such a great part of what charactized Harry Potter, and it was strange to see him without them.

"Yeah, I know. I miss them," he said as he stopped his hand from pushing his imaginary glasses up his nose, as it was accustomed to do. "Lupin helped me with that particular incantation; it was a little advance for my status. Fortunately and unfortunately it only lasts a day, so don't get too accustomed to seeing my like this okay?" he joked lightly his small smile making him more familiar.

"Oh don't worry, I won't --wait! Oh my God, I can't believe I didn't notice immediately. You're scar is gone!" Hermione said surprised, as she realized while observing the new combination of the brown hair with his white skin.

"Shhh, Hermione!" Harry said rapidly turning to see if nobody had heard her cry. "It's not gone, it's just obscured. Lupin said it was impossible to get rid of a scar with a nature like mine, so it's just a chameleon charm," Harry said sounding a little disappointed, when something got his attention. "Funny, I thought that would be the first thing that you would notice."

"Honestly, Harry! I'm not always gaping at your scar am I?" she sounded a little offended.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," he said this last sentence a little dazed. His gaze was so fixed on her eyes that she was getting uncomfortable. "You changed the color of your eyes."

"Well, of course, I thought this was a great opportunity for a change of the dull brown," she exclaimed trying to avoid the piercing of his eyes.

"Your eyes are everything but dull Hermione," Harry expressed and immediately flushed by his statement that had come out before he could even think.

"Thank you," she said meeting his gaze.

Harry knew it was time to move, but he couldn't make the first step. He was so nervous, and he couldn't remember Rule #2. What was it?! What?!?!? He didn't want to see overly anxious in front of Hermione. So he skipped it and headed right to Rule #3, When you start your way to whatever place you're going ALWAYS take her hand. (Harry had to complain to Sirius when he heard this rule, "I can't take her hand!! That is a 'date' thing, and this isn't a date!!" Before Sirius could rebut, Lupin had interrupted. "Then be a gentleman and offer her your arm.") So that is what Harry did, he stepped a little to his side and bended his arm in a straight angle towards Hermione. "Should we go then?"

Hermione couldn't help a small smile at Harry's form. "Of course," she answered as she very slowly slipped her arm through the crock of his elbow, enjoying the strength it provoked just to be lightly sustained by his arm. Just as Hermione was admiring how their arms looked linked together, she got a glimpse of a soft glow coming from the bracelet she was wearing. "Oh," she let out a surprised noise, "I forgot about those," she spoke more to herself, feeling ridiculous for not looking at them sooner. It was funny how she didn't need it to find Harry in the end.

"Yeah me too," Harry added looking at his own hand.

"Well then, let's go," Hermione, said before a nervous silence could begin, but when she gave the first step Harry didn't follow. "What's wrong?"

"There's still a part missing from my costume," he said shifting his feet slightly. "After refusing Sirius ridiculous opinion about a certain costume that will remain unnamed, he insisted that he wanted to give something to my ensemble, so...I want you to know what you think," Harry exclaimed rather rapidly as if wanting to get it out of the way as quickly as possible.

Hermione just waited patiently; a little curious of what Sirius could have suggested that provoked such a blush on Harry's cheeks. It was then when Hermione finally realized that on Harry's other hand was a sleek top hat, of an obvious fine fabric. He shyly put it on his head and turned slightly towards her, not meeting her gaze. Hermione smiled at Harry's misplaced insecurity, as she gently lifted her free hand to arrange the hat at a better angle. "It's perfect," she said and she was surprised with the casualness with which her hand arranged his lose hair behind his ears, "it completes your costume."

The gentle brush of Hermione's fingers on his ears made a strange reaction. For rather than making him jumpier as he had expected it would, it eased his nervous state. "Thanks," he said as he started walking towards the portrait hole.

Hermione was having a difficult time walking; she had gotten carried away with the motif of her costume and had bought very high heels, to which she wasn't accustomed. So her steps were shaky. Harry must have felt the tremble in her steps for he stiffened his arms that was supporting her weight and placed a gentle hand over her own, warming her entire body. She smiled at him, enjoying this comfortable feeling that was between them.

Before they knew it, they had arrived at the Great Hall. Several sounds of excitement and light music seemed to be coming from behind the great wooden door. Harry immediately remembered Rule #4. When you get to a door, always open it for her, then step aside, so that she can pass. This rule helps as an excuse to touch her...("Honestly Padfoot!" Remus had interrupted immediately, Harry remembered. "What!" Sirius had responded affronted, then seeing Lupin's unrelenting gaze he added, "I didn't mean it in that way Moony you perverted mind! What I meant is to guide her through with his hand on her shoulder or something like that." Harry had remained silent.)

So observing part of the rule, Harry stepped in front and pulled the heavy doors, pressing himself against it so that she could pass unobstructed. Hermione let go momentarily of Harry's arm as she passed, feeling Harry's light touch of his hand on the small of her back. Their arms went to each other as soon as they stepped in; stopping dead in their tracks watching with awe the transformation of the Great Hall.

It was decorated like nothing they had seen before; they had been expecting the traditional Halloween fest decoration, with the floating pumpkins and live bats flying around, but what they saw was something completely different. The bewitched sky that reflected the outside sky, must have been added an extra charm for not only did each of the reflected night stars glow stronger than other days, but they were slowly falling in small strings, making a light waterfall effect. The four house tables were gone, replaced with hundreds of small four and two people tables, covered with silvery table clothes. Thousands of different sized bubbles floated idly throughout the crowds. The stonewalls were covered with intertwisted angling arcs of white and silver silk. Everything seemed to be decorated in white or clear tones, to let the color be provided by the many array of costumes of the students.

Hermione's face showed her happy surprise. "It looks wonderful."

Harry tightened his grip. "Let's go find a table."

***

Something strange was happening to his face. His lips were quirking as they tried to extend into something that was obviously not his normal sneer. They had been sitting in on of the far left two-people tables. But it was a very strange night altogether. The first's moments he was angry with himself for sustaining the thought that she looked... well, he couldn't even voice the word. But that hadn't stopped him from staring at her all the way to the Great Hall. On one point he actually froze in his place when he realized he had been lamenting that she had changed the color of her hair; the vibrant red would have combined perfectly with the pristine white of her dress. After the tenth time of reminding himself that this was business, he steadied himself and continued with his intense gaze. However, after they sat down, Ginny started talking about some old family anecdote, at first he thought that it would make it easier to ignore her, but even that wasn't true. The things she was talking about, he was finding them interesting...

"...what they didn't know is that even at the tender age of eight I could do a very accurate imitation of my mom..."

Even though she was talking of some stupid childhood prank, he was immerged in the plot. It was something to do about how she got back at her brothers taunts, but the interesting part was how she lied, cheated and plotted in order to achieve her purpose. And she had enjoyed it, obvious by the delighted smirk gracing her lips as she retold the events. He would never had guessed she could be this conniving, he had always seen her as this stupid little midget who was deluded enough to have a crush on Potter. And what he had thought would be a completely dull period before he got through with his plan, was actually enjoyable (shudder).

Ginny couldn't suppress the laughter after remembering the faces of her brothers. Normally she would try to act mature and composed in front of Harry, so that the image of the "little sister" wouldn't stick. But tonight there was something different about him, he wasn't treating her like a sibling, wasn't acting all protective as usual. It made her feel more relaxed, like she could actually talk to him about something, rather then trying to impress him.

He had been silent during the duration of her retelling, but she had seen a particularly small smile cross his unusually thin lips. "I can't believe you did that," he finally spoke, minutes later after she had finished, with a kind of silent admiration.

"Yeah, well they deserved it," Ginny said nonchalantly tucking away a strand of hair. "That would teach them never to build a magic rocket with a girl's only Witching Wendy doll." She smiled again after finishing her story. "Don't look at me like that," she said while straightening in her seat. "With a family like yours, I doubt I was the only one doing pranks."

He stiffened immediately at this topic of discussion, he didn't care about Potter's household, he only new he lived with Muggles; what he was supposed to say? He couldn't risk being discovered, not this early on. So he thought hard at something he could use. A small smirk appeared on his face when a memory came to mind.

"Well there was this one time; my fath...my uncle," he fumbled, did Potter lived with an uncle? "he was bugging me as usual because when I was little I refused to participate in some..." what could he say? He couldn't very well let out that it was certain dark situations, "tricks of his trade, so naturally he decided to punish me. In this occasion it was in the way of making me clean after...my pet...cat," he was having a hard time changing his experiences to something Muggle. "I was so angry at him, for making me do servant stuff," he realized too late that he had let something uncharacteristic of Potter slip, but Ginny didn't seem to notice. Quite the contrary.

"Like that was something new," she spat angrily.

"Yeah, well...I was cleaning, throwing the waste to the bucket he had so gloatingly provided, and I wasn't even paying attention to it, afterwards I just threw the bucket to the garbage; I didn't think more of it. It wasn't until my uncle sat down to his desk and opened a drawer that he realized it was full of 'waste' from my cat, further scrutiny found all the drawers full of it. Of course I said I hadn't done that, but he didn't care. He punished me of course, but...somehow it was worth it, just to see the look of disgust he had when he took out his hand full of...I think that was one of my first signs of magic," he finished a little smile spreading through his thin lips as he reminisced.

When he turned to look at Ginny, he had expected anything from a girl, except what he saw. Ginny was trembling in laughter, a few tears in her eyes and she clapped, "That was priceless, and well done, the git deserved nothing better."

He spent a few minutes just admiring her as she cleaned the tears off her eyes, and tried to regain composure. "Your nothing like what I thought you were going to be."

Ginny turned her attention immediately to him, surprised at his words, and at the sudden intensity of his gaze. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I don't know," he sincerely answered as he turned to look at the falling stars.

***

Harry and Hermione were sitting stock still on their two-person table; still gazing at the decorations, for Harry had to admit it was easier to stare at the wall than at Hermione. By that time Harry had already complied with Rule #5 and #6, which just made him pull out the chair for her and #6 was a variant of Rule #1 (Rule #6 is just to continue along with the compliments, show her that you are paying attention to her) So Harry was left to wonder on what to comment on, not because he didn't find something of Hermione to compliment, but because he didn't know where to start. So as the words, 'your dress is nice', came out of his mouth, he winced at the cowardice it showed, for the original statement was along the lines of 'the dress looks wonderful on you. Hermione had just smiled more broadly and uttered thanks.

Harry had to admit that he was completely enjoying the evening; after that short awkward moment at the beginning, conversation had begun to flow comfortably. However he could still feel something different, like how his stomach trembled when he was talking; assuming it was just hunger, he wished the food would be served quickly. He couldn't pinpoint the reason why he felt so completely different tonight; perhaps it was the way the delicious food seemed to melt all through his stomach, or how the cool cider bubbled in his mouth, maybe it was that he wasn't the center of attention and was comfortable all around. Although maybe, just maybe it was because he was sitting in the Great Hall with Hermione, enjoying the fluid conversation and that even though if you saw Hermione right now with her "costume" you couldn't guess it was her, Harry knew it was really her behind it, and he couldn't stop his mind from seeing her the way she really was. He especially missed how her eyes sparkled when she laughed.

However, great things came out of their costumes. Harry felt remarkably free; he spilled some cider and didn't feel embarrassed, for once he felt that all the eyes weren't upon him. This made him feel more relaxed and less nervous. Hermione seemed to feel this change in his demeanor and she copied his attitude.

Hermione was loving this, for on this magical night, she got the opportunity to play the stress-free girl; enjoying the lights, the music and the company of a handsome guy without worrying about anything else; especially after Harry and her touched fingers accidentally while trying to grab the same glass. (Yes, no guilty feelings here. Why should there be?)

A tall dark haired man stood in front of the crowd and by the way he extended his hands outward to gain the attention, Harry surmised it was Dumbledore. (Though it was a hard guess due to his fireman attire)

"Good evening to you all, I will not interrupt this joyous dance with a tired speech. However I would like to invite the couples to dance to our opening waltz, after that our musical entertainment will be provided by our guest band. So put on the waltz!" Fireman Dumbledore spoke, extending his hand towards a very stern medieval queen. They walked to the middle of the room and waited for the rest of the dance partners to join them. Harry watched from his seat as people passed by their table, his hand twitching with anticipation. The waltz was the easiest of their practiced dances, but he still felt he had various glitches. Moreover the voice of Sirius immediately sprung into his mind, in concern of Rule #7 ("Rule #7," Sirius had started somberly, " is one of the important ones, this rule is the one that helped your dad and me the most to get..." a loud and exaggerated clearing of the throat by Lupin stopped Sirius sentence. "Ok, ok, maybe when you're a little older," Sirius continued after sharing an intense gaze with Lupin. "As I was saying, girls love to dance Harry, even the girls who say that they don't want to dance, want to dance...now don't ask me why, that question I haven't answered even at my advanced age." Sirius was taking this a little bit too serious thought Harry as he watched his godfather pacing the length of the room with his hands in his hair. Taken advantage of the lack of attention from Sirius, Lupin inched closer to Harry. "Just remember to ask the girl first in a courteous way," Lupin had whispered. "What are you mumbling Moony?" Sirius had suddenly turned his attention back to Harry. Moony not wanting his friend too feel alienated just responded, "Honestly Padfoot your Rules are nothing more than the normal guides of chivalry that most EDUCATED people follow," Remus had invented. "When you are finished insulting the very Rules that helped you in sixth year with--" an other more extravagant and loud clearing of the throat by Lupin put an end to Sirius statement.)

With that last ounce of advice, he extended his hand to her, allowing a low muster to come out of his mouth, "Would you like to dance?"

A small shy smile graced Hermione's glossed lips. "I would love to." He stood up and repeated naturally Rule#5. After helping Hermione out of her seat, he offered his hand again; Hermione didn't falter to accept. While walking to the dance floor, threading through other couples, their hands gave a tiny shift, but just enough to give the opportunity to intertwine their fingers. After this change, Harry unconsciously tightened his grip, feeling as Hermione did the same thing. It was actually kind of disappointing losing the sensation of her thin delicate fingers between his, when they reached a dancing spot. Nevertheless as they got into their dance position, having her between his arms again rewarded him. He didn't want to admit it, but because of all the ballroom dancing lessons, the sensation of holding her was becoming addicting.

Maybe Hermione couldn't pinpoint the exact time when their fingers locked together, however she could detail the exact feeling it brought; to feel Harry's hand almost cover hers. She couldn't find words to describe the sensation that enwrapped her body in that instant.

As they stood there, in their practiced waltz position, they were physically aware of each other, and their nerves were wreaking havoc in their bodies. As a classical band appeared along the stand to the right of the Hall, the soft music of the waltz began to be heard. Harry immediately recognized the familiar cords of the Emperor's Waltz. Gazing at Hermione's new baby blue eyes wasn't as frightening as her intense chocolate eyes; the soft material of her dress was smooth against the palm of his hand, and after having enjoyed the feeling of fingers twined together, it wasn't that terrifying to hold her hand. He wasn't quite sure if the combination of these factors made him feel this sense of comfort and freedom, but what he did know was that as he began to move to the rhythm of the music, the steps flowed smoothly.

Something was different this night and Hermione knew it. For some reason Harry's hand on her back wasn't sending shocks through her bones, but was a safe strong support, and she yearned to feel the rush that his hand brought. For the first time since the ballroom classes begun, she was blissfully comfortable in his arms. The rhythm poured. They were finally dancing like it was meant to be. Their movements perfectly coordinated. Their feet, miraculously never meet in a painful collision, not even because of Hermione's heel clad shoes.

Please don't ask Harry to explain the reason of why they were dancing perfectly in this particular occasion, because he was too busy twirling Hermione to care. The environment felt care free and there was no bug-eyed person hovering around, judging their movements. The enchanted stars illuminated Hermione's red curls and Harry was sporting a wonderful sincere smile. All of the reasons above, plus the reasons that their arms felt so right around each other, made Harry and Hermione dance joyfully away for two waltzes without even noticing it.

***

Ginny had danced with Harry before, and since that occasion of their first day of ballroom dancing class, she had been waiting for that moment when she could dance with Harry again. However she couldn't believe how much his dancing style changed in a few weeks. There was a new firmness to the hand behind her back and a very stiff control of the movements. In fact, Ginny was surprised at the mechanical way he was dancing; his gaze stuck in an imaginary spot behind Ginny.

"Harry look, I know you didn't enjoy the dancing lessons, but that doesn't mean that you have to have this ugly bored old face," Ginny berated, giving him a mock-scowl. "You know what we need to do?" she asked receiving a blank look from Harry. "We need more floating."

"Floating," Harry asked bewildered meeting her eyes for the first time since they started dancing.

Ginny hesitated under his piercing gaze. "Yes, we need more of it, we haven't moved from this spot since we started dancing."

"I don't float," He stated in what seemed like a forced steadiness.

Ginny's face got serious. "Well you need to start," she said with a playful forcefulness, pulling him into a wide arc.

Harry stumbled and tried futily to try and steer her back to a more formal style. "Ginny stop it! This isn't the correct way to do the waltz."

"So?" she asked smiling widely as she twirled pulling him along. "Since when do you follow the rules Harry?"

"People are looking at us," he said clenching his teeth.

"So what if we don't dance according to the rules, so what if we move all around the floor, so what if we look like fools, as long as we enjoy the moment and have actual fun."

He just looked at her, at how the soft curls flowed through the air as she danced, at how her face glowed with an inner light. "But..." he started to hesitate. "I've always danced according to the rules of social conduct and etiquette."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You make it sound like as if you've done this a lot before."

He hurriedly cleared his throat, "No of course not! I mean...according to that old bat Trelawney."

Ginny laughed as she grabbed him tighter and twirled in larger arcs. "Well that should be enough incentive to break the rules."

Harry's lips twitched, as he tried to suppress a smile. "Alright, but let me do the floating, your way is just too girly."

"Oh, I wonder why?" Ginny expressed sarcastically, as Harry tightened his arms against her, and began to twirl her all along the length of the dance floor.

***

Well why don't just pinch Harry right now to see if he was dreaming. Why was it possible for Harry to think he was in a dream like state? Well it might be that he was actually having fun! After time seemed to slow down for the waltz, a band called "The Chameleons" appeared in the stand to the right of the dance floor. There were a weird lot. It had seemed strange to Harry that Dumbledore had brought such a formal looking band, a woman and a man that were standing at the front of the band, appeared to be the lead singers. They were all clad in simple casual black clothes, and didn't look out of the ordinary. Harry was about to comment of what kind of music could they provide, when the man started to physically change in front of his eyes as the band in the back began to play an old style swing introduction. The man's clothes changed to a late fifties suit, and his face transformed until he had bright blue eyes. Some of the girls beside Harry screamed in recognition, "Oh! Look, he's Frank Sinatra!"

However the magical part of the evening wasn't supplied by the group of musicians that seemed to morph into the artist they were going to interpret; as it was happening right now with the man that was currently singing an exact version of Sinatra's "Come fly with me." Harry could feel a very different type of magic from the one that flowed from within when using his wand. This particular kind of magic was coming from his legs, his hips, his arms, torso, hands that seemed to be in a sort of agreement with Hermione's contra parts. They were dancing to this type of swing, even though they had only two classes viewing this kind of dance. But this wasn't as step oriented as the waltz, they just flowed, especially Hermione as Harry twirled her around. The part that she most enjoyed was when her dress would lift several inches from the floor in a great swirl of crimson fabric. Not even the corset part of the dress could constrain her movements. Harry was bewildered with this freedom, and most importantly of guiding Hermione at her waist in the turns. It had a totally invigorating sensation to grab her by her waist into a tight embrace before letting her go into another turn.

They seemed to cover all of the dancing area of the Great Hall, before Harry noticed that the singer had changed into another song from Sinatra. As Harry shared a rapid gaze with Hermione while holding together in an embrace he took a moment to listen to the lyrics to see if he recognized the song.

What a day this has been
What a rare mood I'm in

Too true Mr. Sinatra, Harry thought wryly to himself as he turned Hermione towards him, pulling her so that her back was to his chest. Letting her nest in this position three seconds more than necessary.

There's a smile on my face
For the whole human race

So wide that my cheeks hurt, Hermione thought as she glanced backwards from her position towards Harry completely enjoying this variation of an embrace.

All the music of life seems to be
Like a bell that is ringing for me

Who ever said that dancing wasn't fun? Harry asked the heavens as he twirled Hermione several times in her spot. He conveniently didn't remember that he was the one that had said that very phrase. However this wasn't even dancing, well at least not correct dancing. He was positive that they weren't following the pre-established steps of the swing, or if this song even went with swing choreography. The only thing that was clear in his head is that he was laughing, and smiling and enjoying himself completely just moving around in the dance floor with Hermione. Especially because she seemed to be having just as much fun, her smile had grown to an unvisited length, he could almost count all of her teeth, she was enjoying the feel of her hair twirling in the air in sync with her. She was especially proud of her twists and turns in the difficult shoes she was wearing.

Harry was also enjoying the song, it's seemed to mix very well with this delight that dancing had turned into.

And from the way that I feel
When that bell starts to peal
I would swear I was falling
I could swear I was falling
It's almost like being in love

And that was the moment, when he unconsciously let go of Hermione just at the end of a turn, he hadn't listen to that part of the song before, and only now did it had that full effect. It was silly really and he knew it as he stood stock still at the center of the rest of the dancing mob. Silly to get this freaked out by some lyrics from and oldie song. It really meant nothing, it didn't reflect how he was feeling right now, of course, everybody knew that, right? Harry looked around at the rest of the people as though waiting for an answer to his mental question.

Now, Harry wasn't the only one to blame for breaking the connection while they were dancing, because Hermione had also let go of Harry's hand at the same moment when she had heard the lyrics. It was totally ridiculous to get all wound up over just some simple lyrics that meant nothing to her. Because it meant nothing, nothing. Just words that a certain writer had put on together to write another great song for Mr. Sinatra, or maybe it wasn't even exclusively for him, ugh this wasn't the time to be arguing about original singers. The point was that it was just a song that she was really enjoying because of the rhythm. Yes that was it; the rhythm was very moving and fun to dance to. Hermione felt so stupid for thinking more of it.

When Harry decided that it was absurd to be putting so much thought into a silly song, he searched for Hermione, whom he had lost between the crowd. She wasn't difficult to find, although he had been looking for her brown locks ten whole seconds before he remembered that she was as a redhead today. He smiled timidly at her as he carefully maneuvered his way through the twisting bodies coming closer to her, silently wishing that she wouldn't ask the reason of the sudden lose of coordination.

Just as Harry and Hermione had gotten very few seconds trying to get back into the rhythm of the song, it came to an end. They stood only half a second as the group had changed again; now four other singers had joined the one who was previously Sinatra. The five of them were transforming again just as the music started, slowly. Meaning it was a slow song. Dear God!

Harry didn't know what to do next, he was still holding unto Hermione by her waist, waiting to see if she gave of any indication as what she wanted to do. However she wasn't looking at him, instead her gaze was looking up at the band, perhaps trying to recognize the singers as they changed into five very handsome and different guys. (Harry couldn't help but remember Rule #8 You have to dance a slow song. Harry remembered sitting down, waiting for the rest of the rule, but apparently that was all, so he couldn't stop from asking why? "Because it's 'the' slow dance Harry. It's a disguised opportunity of getting close to the girl. It is a close embrace that masquerades as a dance," Sirius was talking a little too vehemently and Harry glanced at Lupin to see his input, yet he was silent, and for the first time had nothing to contradict.)

Harry did remember that after spending a various seconds just letting that rule sink in, he reacted and tried to make Sirius remember that it wasn't a date. Sirius had acted rather strangely just looking directly at Harry for several minutes, and rolling his eyes after not getting the reaction he was hoping for. Perhaps sensing Sirius frustration, Lupin had intervened and said that it would still be a good gesture to dance with Hermione, even in a non-date tone.

Hermione wasn't even really paying attention to the transformation of the singers, her gaze was just lost, mirroring her emotions. She didn't know what to do, part of her knew that the dance had ended and that they should go sit down, and enjoy a friendly conversation while the real couples danced to this type of song. However the other part of her, the part that made her feet feel like lead so that se couldn't move from that spot, just wanted to dance with Harry. And this part of her was what scared her.

Harry didn't even know what his own body was doing as he got closer to Hermione and grabbed her hand from where it was resting at her side, bringing the united hands to the dance position. Hermione turned immediately as soon as she registered his touched, and understood the silent question made by his movement and aided by his eyes. She trembled softly as her hand traveled back to his shoulder and got in place, unaware of Harry's hand also trembling as he enveloped her waist.

And so they started, moving together in a very slow pace, merely inching their feet from the floor. However Harry was purposely letting a considerable gap between them, just for security reasons. Yet he could still feel her nearness and was getting warm all over. He needed to concentrate on something else, and the lyrics of the song started, and decided to listen rather than to feel.

I don't know how
I don't know why
But girl it seems
You've touched my life
You're in my dreams
You're in my heart
I'm not myself
When we're apart

Well the lyrics were...interesting. How could Harry think that a slow song would be about anything else but of love? Preferring to analyze the lyrics rather than acknowledging that he was very subtly inched closer to Hermione, his mind rambled on. So, it looks like it about a guy discovering something about a girl, he thought as his arm pulled Hermione a little more closely to him.

Unexpected feelings, huh? Thought Hermione as she decided to occupy her mind in something besides Harry's arm around her waist. Someone who feels different when the other person isn't around them...Hermione was inching closer, every step you took. Like when I am not around...She almost bit her tongue as if she was actually talking and trying to stop what she was going to say.

Something strange has come over me
A raging wind across my seas
And girl you know that your eyes are to blame
And what am I suppose to do
If I can't get over you
And come to find that you don't feel the same

I understand the poor guy, thought Hermione, the eyes of the person are so easily blamed. She turned towards Harry is a moment of weakness and immediately got caught in his eyes, however she was looking beyond the hazel, back to his normal piercing green eyes, not noticing that by now there was absolutely no space between their bodies.

Cause I'm falling, falling
Girl I'm falling for you
And I pray you're falling too
I've been falling, falling
Ever since the moment
I laid eyes on you
Falling ,falling, falling
When I laid eyes on you
Falling, falling, falling

Falling, towards a girl, or for a girl, because you can't take your eyes of that person, Harry thought as he continued to peer strongly at Hermione's baby blue eyes, hopelessly missing the depth of her chocolate brown eyes. He was surprised that Hermione met the intensity of his gaze, but he was enjoying it.

I lose my step
I lose my ground
I lose myself
When you're around
I'm holding on
For my life
To keep from drowning
In your eyes, yeah

Harry slowly turned to another direction; he needed to stop looking at Hermione so intensely, something was happening to his body and his mind. His breath increased, his head was throbbing as thoughts were fighting to be free. Hermione was both sad and relieved at the loss of eye contact, her entire body was aching, enthralled from the sensation of being so close for so long to Harry.

Girl what have you done to me
To make me fall so desperately
To think that I don't even know your name, no no
And how am I supposed to live
If I can't get over this
If you decide that you don't feel the same ,yeah

Hermione's knees were barely surviving the soft movement of the dance, they felt just about to buckle. However after losing the eye contact they slightly changed their position, their heads had come closer to each other. Hermione slowly lead her head to the side of Harry's, mutely guided by the subtle crisp smell that irradiated from his neck. Hermione had never been so close to get a full hit of his cologne (wait, when did he start wearing it? Or has he always worn it?) It was enwrapping, her hand that was correctly positioned on his bicep, slowly moved onto his shoulder, enjoying the feel of the fabric of his jacket against her sensitive palm. She was so close to the crock of Harry's neck that she closed her eyes to inhale deeply Harry's scent, she could actually feel her breath going through her lungs infected by Harry's husky aroma. As he was lost in thought an unexpected touch occurred, as her cheek came in contact with Harry's, just for a second as the both gave a step from the dance, it was so fleeting that it could have gone unnoticed by the unwilling spectators. Yet for Hermione it changed her entire view; if it was possible to melt human flesh than Harry hand achieved it with touch. Her cheek felt hot, smoldering, boiling...debilitating. Is your best friend supposed to melt skin?

Cause I'm falling, falling
Girl I'm falling for you
And I pray you're falling too
I've been falling, falling

Even with the thick fabric covering his arms, his pores came wildly alive as her hand past up all through his arm to get to his upper shoulder. A simple gesture really but it opened up the opportunity to close the space even more, so to close up the space. He tighten his grip around her slim waist, to the point were she was completely enveloped in his arms. He could feel the heat from her body provoked by the exertion of the previous dance, same heat that was probably activating the sweet flowery scent of her perfume. Just as he was losing himself in her scent, it happened... It was a total fluke, it was actually because of a misstep of his part, he step right when it should have been left, but because of such close proximity it resulted in a very subtle graze. It sent such an electrical charge throughout his body, as if he had been touched by a lighting bolt right at the face.

And from electricity, magnetism was born; that attraction to wanting to feel the sensation again, to feel her face anew.

Her movements were so small that it could have passed undetected; it also wouldn't have gotten her so close to Harry's face, if he hadn't been doing the exact same small movements towards her. Yet their faces met half way, both of them were so unconscious of wanting to feel each other that they were so aware of how soft and hot and blissful it felt to be this close to one another. While in reality Hermione's temple and the upper part of her cheek, was the only thing that was touching Harry's chin, he had actually never felt this physically close to her. All Hermione could do was close her eyes, and enjoy, for in reality that is all that she wanted to do.

Falling
Will you stay or will you go
Heaven
Heaven knows what my future holds
Questions
Questions linger on my mind
From daybreak till dark of night
I don't know what's come over me

He didn't. She didn't. Neither knew what was coming over them, and apparently neither cared. For the only certainty that was clear in their heads is that this complete entrapment on each other was...was...

Can't you see that I'm falling, falling
Girl I'm falling for you
And I pray you're falling too, yeah yeah
Falling, falling(girl I'm falling)
Ever since the moment
I laid eyes on you

And just like that it ended; the band rapidly transformed again, and started singing some fast song. The dancing floor got flooded again by lot of people moving to the fast beat. Their faces felt the last caress as they moved their heads apart. They shared one last deep stare before their faces became bemused. Something totally unexpected had happened, neither one knew what it was, but they could feel it, almost touch the difference in the air between them.

However Harry couldn't think of it, he couldn't. Harry dropped his arms from holding Hermione, and she took a step away from him. "Do you want to sit down," Harry asked clearing his throat before he spoke.

Hermione could only respond by nodding her head and walking ahead of Harry back to their seats. Hermione finished her glass of cider almost in one sip, her head felt so hot and confused. After looking at the glass for what seem like minutes, she didn't know what to do; she couldn't bring herself to look at Harry. She felt so strange. She felt guilty and happy.

Harry was watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to venture a full glance towards her. She wasn't acting normally, and she was avoiding his gaze (like he was, yet he didn't remember that). He had done something wrong. He knew it; he just wasn't made for this situation. He had totally decided to forget that now Hermione wasn't only his best friend, but the girlfriend of his other best friend. Had he offended her in some way?

They were sitting down at the table for a good ten minutes without talking; neither knew what to say, or what the other was thinking. A tiny red velvet dessert menu appeared at the table but neither one pay heed to it.

"Hermione, do you want to go..." Harry couldn't finish the sentence, because he didn't know what to suggest. Go take a walk? Go outside? Go do something for her not to be so lost anymore.

Yet, the lack of decision from Harry made Hermione totally mistake his intentions. She completely misunderstood him, and thought that he was the one who was so freaked out that he wanted to go back to the common room. Had she done something so horrible to make Harry want to run to his room? She didn't want to go against Harry's wishes on this. If all he wanted was not to be with her anymore, there was nothing she could do. So she sighed, and put on a strong façade. "Yeah, your right we'd better go back to the common room, I think I did enough dancing for tonight..."

Harry was not so surprised by her answer but more of put down. He was actually wishing that his instinct about something going on with Hermione would be wrong. However he was sadden by her decision to leave, and he couldn't well force her to stay here with him. He gave her a faint smile as he stood up and helped her with her seat. They started walking slowly between the tables, fighting with big and obstructing costumes as they made their way between the tables. They finally made it to the door, Harry opened it letting her pass, giving the Great Hall a final glance before closing the door behind them.

They were walking through the halls silently, and consciously putting a space between them. Harry was uncomfortable; he didn't like the situation between them. He said he was going to make Hermione enjoy herself to the fullest, and he wasn't about to ruin it, because of something he may had done. She was one of his best friends, he couldn't forget that.

"Hermione, do you want to give Ron a visit before we go back?" Harry asked.

Hermione stopped and thought about Harry's proposition. A part of her brain felt immediately guilty about his proposition, for it saddened her tremendously to realize she hadn't thought about Ron all night. She felt ridiculous; this entire night was for Harry to feel better. That had been her main purpose, and here she was being dramatic because of something that was probably so stupid. And like always, leave it to Harry to be the kind, sweet, thoughtful friend, who put his friends first. "That sounds great, we can tell him how beautiful the Masquerade Ball was," Hermione answered smiling at Harry.

Harry was relieved to see her smile and agree with his suggestion, most of all he was relieved that all the way through the halls leading to the hospital wing, they went back to talking without weirdness, laughing about the "special" costumes that some of the students showed off.

Just as they were getting to the hospital door, Hermione was laughing out so hard at Harry's theories about what unusual costumes would Snape look better with. ("...just imagine that PLUS feathers") Hermione realized that her laugh was echoing all through the halls so she put her hands in her mouth to try to muffle it. Harry was laughing at Hermione's attitudes, the way her cheeks flushed a cute red when she laughed. He opened the door, and was about to let Hermione go in, when someone from inside the hospital room came running right at them. Hermione was pushed to the side, as the person went running away before she could be seen. Hermione recuperated from the assault and turned rapidly just in time to see the ends of a green grass skirt as it disappeared around a corner. Was that, Pavarti? Why did she run away like that?

"Well, that was unexpected, being tackled like that. Are you alright?" Harry asked as he still held onto her arms from her back where he had detained her when she was pushed.

"Yeah, it was just strange," Hermione answered, feeling Harry's hands still on her arms.

Harry just shrugged and gestured for Hermione to go in. The hospital wing felt particularly alone without Madam Pomfrey busying about the beds. Ron's bed was surrounded by curtains to create a little privacy. When they walked closer to Ron's bed there was a chair by his bed, Hermione sat down, while Harry stood at the other side of his bed. Harry watched carefully as Hermione described the evening's decoration and gave special detail to the food to an unconscious Ron. His heart ached for her, yes Ron was his best friend almost like his brother, yet Hermione had lost both best friend and boyfriend at the same time. It was a good hour, before they decided it was time to leave. Harry turned the other way as he saw that Hermione was about to say goodbye. As Hermione was leaning towards Ron, she saw something on the floor. It was a bright pink flower, it was still fresh, and it looked like the flowers that were in Pavarti's crown. Then, was it really Pavarti who ran out of here? But why did she run away? And most importantly what was she doing in here with Ron, rather than at the Ball? Hermione took the flower with her and to bend again to kiss the top of Ron's forehead. After saying goodbye Harry and Hermione made their way back to the common room.

***

Ginny had never danced so much before, and she never knew that Harry would be the one who was dancing with her. This night was turning to be a real dream come true. Harry was acting so differently, and treating her like a real girl, not like a little sister as he would always make her feel. He would stare so deeply into her eyes, and hugged her so close to him. To this moment they had danced all of the slow songs, and he had guided her so gently along with the music, his hand had caressed her face as he moved her hair behind her ear. Was this really the Harry she had know from the past years, the one who visited her house and never really paid any attention to her? Because tonight he was a totally different person, he wasn't talking a lot with her, most of the time she did all the talking and he would just smile; a small but full smile.

Although she wasn't even looking at her watch she was sure that midnight was approaching, some couple had been discussing that the time was near when their identities would be revealed, as the charms were going to dissolve. Ginny was excited, up until now it was all a fantasy, but by the arrival of midnight she would be able to confirm that indeed Harry Potter was with her. WITH HER!!!!

He knew it was almost midnight; some kids were talking about it as they danced. Most of all he knew that it was almost time for his plan to take full effect. But...but...what was this feeling that didn't want the minutes to advance. What was this feeling of just wanting to be dancing with her all night? What happened to his well prepared plan to make her pay? To humiliate her? When did this passion for vengeance had transformed into something else? Something, that just wanted to keep her in his arms? This was exactly how he had planned it, dancing with her in the middle of the dance floor, just in time for the charms to dissolve, and for her to see....well to...He just...He could do it, of course, he... could...

Harry was acting very strangely to Ginny's opinion; he kept moving her around the dance floor. Sometimes he would guide her directly to the door and he seemed like he wanted to walk away, but then he changed his mind and would move to the center. Right now they were dancing at the very center of the dance floor, when he suddenly took her firmly from her upper arms and brought her close to him. She closed her eyes in an intense anticipation. Her lips were trembling as hard as the rest of her body, as her breath increased.

He looked at her face, at how innocent and vulnerable she stood in front of him, with her eyes closed and awaiting. His hand went up to her face and touched the air above her cheek, less than an inch away from her actual skin. It was as if two forces were acting over his hands. One that needed to touch her sweet face, and the other that was sure that he had gone crazy. He felt completely out of his senses he knew what was coming, but a tiny voice just needed to speak. "I need to tell you something," he said as he closed the space between their faces. His gaze went directly to her rosy lips. "I don't know what happened, I don't know if it is possible for you to feel it...To understand," he was breathing hard, right over her skin, she still didn't open her eyes. "But I just want..." he said as his hand finally cupped her cheek, "I just want..." he continued as he wrapped his arm against her waist.

"What?" Ginny weakly question, feeling her legs tremble at his touch.

"You, Weasley," he breathed huskily as he trapped her lips with his.

Ginny who had been feeling his hot breath caress his skin gasped in surprise when he touched her cheek, and enveloped her in his embrace, but from then on she was lost. His lips were rough but his kiss firm, he only hesitated for a second while he steadied his lips with hers, and just as fast, he kissed her with such strength, such profoundness, and hugged her so tight to his chest, that she felt faint. Her knees felt so weak as he slowed down the intensity of the kiss that she grabbed onto his shoulders. Then a strange feeling went through their bodies, like a cold numbness running from their heads to their toes, and then warming back up in the opposing direction. After a few minutes, he separated his face slowly, but did not move away from her.

Ginny was recuperating from the kiss, and from the unexpected sensation of what felt like cold and hot flashes. She couldn't open her eyes, as she was still lost in the moment, this kiss, was like nothing she could've imagine, it was like...Wait. Something clicked in the back of her mind. "What did you call me?" she asked as she opened her eyes, to look right into a pool of grey. It took her a few seconds for her eyes to travel all through his face, to recognize immediately that pale face, the blond hair. She felt like throwing up. "Malfoy!!!" she screamed as she swatted his hand away from her cheek, and pushed him away. The entire Great Hall had gone on this great upheaval as the disguises faded, girls were shrieking asking their dates if they looked good, guys laughing at their friends after realizing what they have been wearing. So nobody paid attention to Ginny and her unlikely partner.

"YOU?! It was YOU?! All this time...it...YOU!!!" Ginny didn't know what to say, her brain was working on overload. All this time, and the enjoyable moments all this conversation, and it had been HIM, the guy she loathed the most. "Why? Why?" she couldn't continue, she started pacing around the area of the tower, gesturing wildly. "What the Hell..."

Draco was just looking at her at her angry and almost desperate scowl. He didn't know what he was expecting really. And he got irritated, yet not at Ginny, oddly enough, but at himself for standing there and looking at her. Resolute, he turned around and walked surprisingly rapidly through the crowd out of the hall.

Ginny saw as he was walking away, and decided that no one would leave her without answers. She almost ran, pushing people out of the way, thankfully she caught up to him before he could disappear.

"You didn't answer my question Malfoy! What the Hell?!?!" she screamed as she forcefully grabbed his arm and turned him around.

"Look, Weasley don't get all crazy," Malfoy started, recuperating from the initial reaction of Ginny, and shook her arm away.

"What the hell is this Malfoy?" Ginny repeated. She felt so sad and yet so angry. He had completely fooled her; she had been such an idiot to think that it was Harry. She wanted to cry, but not because of the deception, but because of a realization that she didn't want to dwell too much into.

Malfoy seem to hear the difference in her voice this time. "Let me explain..." he started. "This was all payback..."

"From what?!" Ginny screamed heatedly.

"From your stupid pumpkin juice action," he answered quickly.

"OH please! You so deserved that," Ginny answered not backing down.

"I don't particularly agree with you, that is why I was going to humiliate you in front of all the school like you did to me," he started and had to put up his hand to stop Ginny from interrupting. "I had it all planned out, I made Goyle follow you in the costume shop to see what you were going as, so that I could easily find you, then all I had to do was make you believe that it was Potter who was asking you to go with him. After convincing you I was going to spend the night with you until midnight came, and when our charm disguises disappeared I was going to huff, puff and insult you none stop as to why you had lied and made me believe you were someone else, when I was actually going out with a pathetic, poor, insignifi..." Draco stopped his thread of conversation after seeing Ginny's seething posture. "The point is that I was going to insult and ridicule you in front of all our classmates."

Ginny was seeing red; she had never been so angry, and resentful against a person like this before. Yet there was something she couldn't understand, what had happened in the end? Why hadn't he insulted her? Better yet why had he kissed her? Was that also a part of the revenge?

"Yet when the moment was arriving, I just...I couldn't. Like I was trying to say, something happened tonight. When we were talking, well you aren't as boring as I..." Draco stopped again, wincing at his words, why couldn't he say what he wanted to say. "What I mean is..."

Ginny closed her eyes, trying to contain her fury. Or to at least harvest it. "Oh, I know what happened. You decided you could hurt me even more; than far from insulting me publicly, there was something even more disgusting and ghastly that you could do to get even with me," Ginny exclaimed with an evident strain in her voice and a visible effort to not cry. She walked directly to him, and slapped him square in the jaw. "Well, congratulations Malfoy! Now we are even," she said as she reluctantly shed a tear. Without another word, she turned and run as fast as she could from him.

"Wait! Gi...Weas..." Draco, without being able to finish a single name. "Wait!"

"Get bent Malfoy!" Ginny screamed as she walked away.

Anger was now boiling inside him. Stupid girl!!!! She hadn't let him explain. Stupid! Stupid! "Fine!!! Stupid She-Weasel," he screamed with hurt pride. Who cares about you anyway? He thought sadly to himself and restrained from answering.

***

Harry and Hermione were still conversing when they arrived to the common room. It was completely deserted and only the feeble sparks from the fireplace lighted the circular room. At the end this had been a great day for both Harry and Hermione, and they both achieved their own vows of making the other enjoy the evening. Harry and Hermione walked up the stairs carefully, still talking animatedly. It wasn't until the stair divided into the ones going up to the girls' dorm room from the one heading to the boys that Harry and Hermione both realize that the evening had indeed come to an end. Hermione had taken her shoes off while walking to the common room, and had to go up one step to achieve a more dignified height. When did he grow so tall? her mind was asking as she stared at the top of his head. A loud clearing of his throat brought her gaze back to miss his. He had a tiny impish smile, and she couldn't stop from smiling back.

"Well, I guess the night is officially finished..." Harry started.

"Harry, before you say anything, I just...well I just..." Hermione was failing to string two words together, and if you know Hermione as well as Harry does, you know that is a big thing. "Well I just wanted to thank you..." Hermione breathed. Harry opened his mouth to refute, but she intervened. "Look, I know that dressing up in a silly costumes and ballroom dancing in a big room is not exactly in your list of things to do, but thank you for coming with me, and I really hope that you enjoyed yourself."

Harry couldn't help chuckle at Hermione's nervous attitude, did she actually think that he hadn't had fun with her tonight. Harry had to hold both her hands in his just for her to understand his feelings. "Hermione, today was a great night, I had so much fun with you, even dancing was fun!" he smiled as he heard Hermione chuckled. "I am even happier that you had fun too."

Hermione smiled back at Harry. It is funny how a smile could just light up a person's entire face, like it did for Hermione. Her lips would curl gracefully against her teeth, it was just magical. Harry's eyes strayed from admiring her smile and traveled all around her face, her cheeks, her nose, admiring the strands of hair that fell against her face. Hermione felt the strength of Harry's gaze all around her face, she silently wondered if he could notice the difference in the tone of her skin as she was blushing so furiously. His strong wandering eyes, combined with the softness of their intertwined hands were accelerating her heart beat, and immediately she felt an emergency signal go off inside her; danger was near. She reluctantly dropped her hands and cleared her throat. "Well, goodnight."

Harry heard Hermione's mustered farewell, he could barely wrestle enough voice to answer back. He was a little busy wondering the strange but acute twitch in his heart. He put his hand over his chest as if to physically feel for a difference in his heartbeat. Yet what he felt was a little soft bump protruding from his jacket. Confused he touched around until he searched the inside pocket. Ohhh! Rule #2. Harry turned rapidly towards Hermione; she had already advanced a few steps. "Hermione wait! I forgot something."

Hermione turned around and started descending with a confused look carved in her features. "What is it?"

Rule #2, the one rule that Harry had completely forgotten about at the beginning of the evening had resurfaced with this new founding, Try to give a nice present to her ("You want me to get her a gift?" Harry had asked confused. "I am not saying to buy her a diamond necklace or an encyclopedia in Hermione's case..." Sirius was getting an exasperated tone so Lupin surfaced, "It's just something small yet significant, just something to 'let her know' that you were thinking about her before the evening starts." Harry still had a confused look about him, but something in Lupin and Sirius combined stares made him believe their words.)

Harry extended a rose from his inside pocket, and gave it to Hermione. "Is this? Is this your transfigured rose?" she asked excited as she felt the soft red petals and the crisp green stem.

Harry lowered his head a little bit in response. "Yeah, it got a little better than last time...but don't get all that excited." Hermione was about to protest when she put the flower to her nose to get a whiff of the scent, and her senses where assaulted with an uncharacteristic smell. "It still smells like parchment..." Harry put in shyly.

Hermione smiled sweetly at Harry's attitude. "It's beautiful, it couldn't be better if it was a real rose, you've really improved," Hermione answered with an ounce of pride in her voice. Hermione couldn't stop her arms, her legs; she couldn't stop any part of her body from advancing towards Harry and enveloping him in a hug. Although her brain had relented into to the hug, its plan was one of her usual fast-at-the-neck hug, yet her body disobeyed her anew, as her arms staid encircling his neck and her legs stuck to their ground.

Instead of just standing there, Harry's hands traveled to her marked waist, yet they didn't stay there, they slowly traveled to her back until the space between them had closed up considerably. His face was right at the side of her head, having direct contact with her hair, getting a more direct whiff of her shampoo that he had ever before, felt the softness of her locks.

Hermione couldn't describe feelings anymore; she just knew that being in such close contact to Harry did something inexplicable to her entire body, even her toes tingled. Yet this was a very new feeling, a cold sensation traveled all through her body, and when it reached her feet, in came traveled back to her head warming her up. She was sure that Harry felt the same thing for he shivered at the exact time that she did.

"What was that?" Harry asked himself out loud as he separated his face from her cheek.

Hermione felt his breath right at her cheek, and swiveled her head to meet his eyes. "Did you feel it too?" she asked.

Harry was about to separate himself when he turned to Hermione when she talked, and finally was meet with her usual and stunning dark chocolate eyes, he was yearning to look at her like this all night, the way she always looked, he just stood there looking deep into her eyes. In an instant they felt how the mood shifted. "You are so beautiful," he breathed so softly and low as if he was just saying it to himself.

Hermione knew the moment that Harry had turned towards her and that she was met with the intensity of the emerald color of his eyes that the glamour and disguises had faded. So that it is why she was left dumbfounded when Harry had spoken those words to her again. The first time she had felt flattered, but she was after all in disguise, so she didn't take the complement to heart, seeing as that 'really' wasn't her. However, now, he had spoken directly at her, at the usual Hermione, the natural looking, the one he had always seen before, and the one that was nested in his arms and felt that there couldn't be a better place.

Harry moved his arm to touch Hermione's face, while enclosing her closer to him with the remaining arm around her waist. He touched her face, running his fingers softly along her cheeks, her jaw. Hermione's arms where at his chest, feeling how it moved as he breathed. Her hand traveled to his neck, and she played with the bowtie that he had undone before. Her fingers grazed his neck up to his jaw. Harry's hand cupped her cheek, while he brought his thumb to her lips, caressing them softly, amazed at how soft they actually were. He didn't realize that he was slowly pulling her towards him; she didn't feel that she was pulling Harry towards her by his jacket. He only felt her lips, her fingers, only saw her eyes. Her lips were actually trembling with anticipation of being touched another way by him, by then her eyes were closed, and she felt that her brain had gone into a sublime sleep. Her face was now inches away from him; he moved his thumb out of the way, as his tongue slightly moistened his lips. He felt like his body was moving itself by instinct, like the first time he had mounted a broom. And with the same feeling of lightness enveloping his body, he closed his eyes as he closed the gap between them. It was such a short distance to pass, less than millimeters. He could feel her cheeks getting hot, she could feel his hot breath. Then their noses lightly bumped...and that was when their eyes flew open. It was like a hippogriff falling on their heads. The realization of what they were about to do, about what they wanted to do, made the back of their heads ache. They were suddenly very aware of the proximity of their bodies. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before they hurriedly separated. Hermione couldn't even see straight, her head felt hot as she passed her hand through her hair. What was she about to do?

Harry couldn't even move, he felt stupid just standing there looking at his shoes. Yet he didn't know what to do, what to say. His stomach was rumbling as if he had eaten a dozen of cockroach clusters. He chanced a quick glimpse at Hermione and saw the same dumbstruck look that he guessed he was wearing also. And that made him feel even worse. What had he done? He tried clearing his throat to see if words would magically spout out and explain everything and fix the situation, when in reality he didn't even have words.

Hermione got scared, of this whirlwind that was her mind, and it got even worse when she heard Harry clear his throat. She wasn't ready; she didn't want to talk right now, not when she didn't know what was going on in her head. So before Harry couldn't even start talking she hurried and excused herself. "Well, er, goodnight Harry."

Harry lifted his gaze as he heard her words, by that time she was already on the third step. He didn't know what to expect by the sudden situation they found themselves in, but seeing her almost run upstairs wasn't what he wanted. "Goodnight," he sighed heavily as he started to make his way to his room.

In a very different fifth year. Ron and Hermione start a new relationship. Everything is perfect for the Trio until Harry realizes he has "particular" feelings about the new couple. Then something happens to Ron that thrust Harry and Hermione together; where NEW feelings arise. CHAPTER TWELVE: The Masquerade Ball finally arrives! What will Harry and Hermione do? And how can Ginny be going out with Harry too? COMPLETELY H/HR