Invisibility

Hermione Granger stepped into her room at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and sighed. It was holiday vacation; she should be happy! But...something wasn't quite right. Something was missing. It wasn’t that she was alone; Harry, Ron and Ginny had remained at Hogwarts over Christmas. Harry because...well, he always stayed for the holidays, and Ron and Ginny because their parents had gone to help the twins open up their prank shop in the United States. There weren't any homework assignments due for weeks...and the assignments due then were already finished. The O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s were months away, no one was upset with anyone else, Harry hadn't had an attempt on his life for two years now, and generally everything was going uncannily well for a year at Hogwarts. So why did she feel so deflated?

Maybe it's just hormones. Yes, that's got to be it. Damned raging teenage hormones.

Shaking her head and trying to drop the heavy feeling that had just settled in her chest, she changed into pajamas and went to bed. To bed, but not to sleep. Parvati and Lavender had gone to a sleepover in Ravenclaw, with Padma. This made for an eerie sort of quiet in the dorm room, unbroken by their normal snoring. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, for a long while. She was about to get up and do some homework, as she had done for so many nights, when a voice called out to her from the silent darkness dominating her room.

“Can’t sleep, Hermione?” It startled her, but for some reason she didn't feel very alarmed. It was...familiar, somehow. Making a snap decision, she decided to find out who this was before sounding the alarm. Two years ago, the girl would have been incredulous at her decision; maybe the peace was making her soft.

“Who are you?” Silence.

“Whoever you are, how long have you been in here?” She wondered if this late-night prowler had been in long enough to see her changing...she hoped not. Quickly amending her first decision, Hermione cleared her throat and spoke again, panic tingeing her voice.

"...If you don't leave right now, I'll scream!"

Her prowler merely chuckled.

"Hey, you've got me all wrong. I just came in here to see if someone needed a little conversation. Helps me sleep sometimes, might help you too if you gave it half a chance."

“Who're you supposed to be, a shrink? I don't need to have my head examined, thank you. Please leave." Already she was reaching for her wand, which was on the bedside table right next to her. Her fingers curled around the cool, reassuring wood, and the girl prepared to curse whomever this person was into the next dimension. Suddenly, the wand was snatched out of her hand, and Hermione gasped in distraught surprise. The mystery visitor laughed again.

“Hey, hey, calm down. There's no need for such drastic action. I thought you looked like you could use some company, nothing more, nothing less. You treat me like I'm a murderer or something.”

"You might well be, since you won't bloody give me your name!"

The Gryffindor was getting quite agitated by this point; she hated not knowing something almost as much as she hated feeling helpless. This stranger was pushing both buttons, and she seriously considered fulfilling her threat of screaming. He (It must be a he, the voice is too deep for a girl, she reasoned), sensing her discomfort, sighed and sat down on one of the empty beds in the room. The springs complained quietly at the sudden weight, then once again fell silent.

“All right, all right. I can see where you'd be a bit upset with me, coming into your dorm in the middle of the night...which I'm not really allowed in to begin with...and not telling you who I am and all, but other than that, I think you're being unfair.”

"I think I'm being stalked."

"You give yourself too much credit."

Hermione huffed in aggravation and frustration that she couldn't think of a comeback. She could practically feel him smirking.

"Hm. I win round one. Want to go again?"

She finally lost her patience.

"No! I want to know who you are, and I want you OUT of this room!" Hermione was almost yelling now, and he cringed.

"Well, is that all? Lower your voice and I'll gladly comply. Wouldn't want to distress the lady, nor wake the house."

She scowled, but quieted her tone to just above a whisper.

"Damn you."

"Likewise. Name's Aaron, but you haven't met me before. Not really."

Her brow furrowed; now she had a clue to go on.

"Ravencl-"

"Nope. Not that Aaron. Like I said, you haven't really met me before, but you do know who I am. In a fashion. Have fun digesting that riddle."

"Then how-"

"-did I get in here? Mad skills, m'dear. Mad skills."

The sarcasm in his voice was so thick, Hermione couldn't find the strength to suppress her chuckles.

"Aaah, see, I'm winning you over. Truly, I'm not as bad as you thought at first, hmm?"

She swallowed another laugh.

"That's true. I thought at first you might be Wormtail or the like," she replied, not expecting him to know what she was talking about. To her dismay, the room fell silent again.

"Aaron?"

Nothing.

"...Hmm. Odd."

Her concern about Aaron notwithstanding, within the quarter hour she was asleep.

"Maybe...he's right about that conversation thing..." she mumbled sleepily before drifting off.

As soon as Hermione was drifting in the subconscious, a figure appeared across the room from her. A silvery cape slipped off of a slender figure and onto Parvati's empty bed, and the man walked over to the sleeping girl. A shaft of moonlight lit her face and gave her an almost ethereal, angelic quality. The visitor pressed a hand to Hermione’s soft cheek, acting almost reverently. After a moment's consideration, he removed the hand and moved to the window. Argentine wisps of moonlight reflected on almost equally brilliant strands of hair, and purest blue eyes stared thoughtfully out of the window and into the whirling snow. The slim, pale boy smiled, then turned from the window and the girl. He took up his cloak, and with a breath, vanished. The door to the girls' dorm creaked open, then closed. Hermione settled into her bed, warm and relaxed, and dreamed of moonlight and spun silver until morning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Harry! Ron! Can I talk to you two a minute?” Hermione called to her two best friends, shivering slightly. They were outside, frolicking in the fresh snow that had fallen the night before. Thought she supposed it wouldn't have killed her to take the time to put on a few extra layers aside from her sweater, pants, coat and scarf, it was impossible to miss this kind of a scene. It was refreshing to see all of the fifth, sixth and seventh years forget their superiority complexes for a little while and play in the snow with the underclassmen. She had slept in that morning, an almost disturbingly rare occurrence, and as a result had a much more relaxed mood. She had also missed breakfast. The teen's stomach grumbled.

Now I know why I never sleep in.

“What, Hermio-” Ron was interrupted by a snowball hitting him in the side of the head. Harry somehow disentangled himself from the mess that was the snowy Battle of the Sexes, and came over to Hermione.

"What's up, Hermione?"

His voice was politely curious, but his best friend knew he was itching to return to the fight. The boys, though there were more of them and they were more adept at throwing the snow, were taking the beating of their lives. The girls were playing it smarter, employing more stealth and strategy; instead of running at the opposition headlong, screeching and pitching blindly, they hid behind a seemingly impenetrable wall of snow and bombarded the men. It was a massacre. Hermione chuckled at the sight, then decided that she couldn't deprive her friend of such fun.

"...Nothing, nothing much. Did I miss anything important at breakfast?"

The dark-haired boy looked skyward and thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers and returned to reality.

"Other than food? Only one thing. Dumbledore's having a New Year's Eve party of some sort. Ron thinks it's to make up for Fred and George's leaving. Without their 'pranks and shenanigans', New Year's would be too much for even the teachers to take."

She chuckled.

"So they are human...go on, back to your fight. Your side's getting pummeled."

Harry nodded, then gave her a lopsided grin.

"You know, you should join in."

"Not a chance."

"Oh."

Looking deflated, the teen returned to his fight, leaving Hermione to puzzle over his sudden change in moods.

"I wonder...AAAAAARRRRRGGGHHHH!"

Something unbearably cold and wet was sliding down her back, and the girl jumped around in an effort to shake it loose.

"C-C-C-COLD!"

After a few minute's prancing, the majority of the ice had melted, and she turned to hunt down the perpetrator. Her eyes fell on an unfamiliar character, bundled up in a heavy coat, gloves, hat, scarf and muffler. There was no skin showing through other than a small stripe through his (assuming it was a he) eyes, which were screwed shut with laughter. The bundle of clothing was rolling around on the snow, in throwing distance, laughing his head off. Hermione's eyes narrowed, and she scooped up some snow of her own, aimed carefully, and let fly. It nailed the hyena right in the face, along the eyehole of his snow suit.

"YEOWCH! COLD!"

He jumped up, frantically trying to wipe the snow away from his face, then saw Hermione out of the corner of his eye.

"Okay. Now it's on," he growled, then grabbed some snow and raced towards her. Her smirk of triumph changed to an expression of utter terror as she realized what her target was up to.

"No...no...okay, stop...peace? We're even? Don't you dare throw that...AAARRRGGHH! That's it!"

The war was on.

Two hours later, the men conceded defeat. After a few minutes of celebrating their victory (girls), and plotting revenge (boys), the entire group decided it had become far too cold for their liking. Unfortunately for the battle-weary students, the doors were locked. It took nearly ten minutes of banging and yelling to summon Professor McGonagall, who finally came to the door to let them all in. As she left, she muttered something about "insanity", "below zero", and "going somewhere warm where they can't find me". No guesses were made as to the targets or meanings of her mumblings, but maybe it was better that way.

"What a fight," Dean commented, stretching.

"Yeah," Ron said, scowling, "except for the fact that we got murdered out there..."

Seamus grinned, an evil glint in his eye.

"Aahh, but there's always a resistance after the end of the war. Stick around and attack when their enemy's least expecting it..."

The few girls who heard this statement gulped, fearful for their lives. Luckily, there weren't many that did. Hermione wasn't one of them; she was busy trying to scout out the muffled mystery boy in the large crowd of students. Finally, she spotted him edging away from the group, and called out for him.

"Hey! Hang on a second!"

He turned at the sound of her voice, and his eyes went wide when he realized who the addressee.

"Oh, bugger," she muttered when she saw his expression. He turned tail and ran off down one of the many corridors in the school. In want of something better to do, the Gryffindor girl chased him.

"Wait up!"

He kept running, occasionally throwing in a turn or a U-turn to try and throw her off.

"Stop!"

The boy paid her no heed, and eventually Hermione ran out of breath. Leaning against a wall and panting, she watched him disappear around another corner. She sighed.

"I wonder..." She looked around quickly, just to make sure that he hadn't reappeared to plaster her with another snowball. The hallway was empty, and she resumed her soliloquy, satisfied. "First that boy in my dorm last night...now this boy...something's up, but I've got no idea what..."

Sighing in defeat, the girl slowly began to make her way back to her own common room.

Might as well change out of these wet clothes. Maybe by the time I'm finished, lunch will be on.

An hour later, Hermione emerged from the Great Hall, showered, dressed, and stuffed. Ginny was tagging along behind her; a few days ago she might have been annoyed by the younger girl's company, but now she welcomed it wholeheartedly.

Hm. Guess I am female after all

, she thought bemusedly, before being startled out of her thoughts by Ginny's voice.

"Did you hear what I just said?"

"Hm? Oh, no, I'm sorry. My mind's wandering."

The younger girl snickered.

"Must be the apocalypse. Hermione is daydreaming."

"Repent, ye sinners. The end is near."

"Like I was saying..." Ginny continued, "do you want the details of the party on Saturday night?"

"That'd be excellent, Ginny, thanks."

"Not a problem! Anyway," she cleared her throat, "it's Saturday night, six to about two AM Sunday morning...no dinner, but there'll be something to eat anyway. Dress is formal. An emergency Hogsmeade visit has been scheduled for tomorrow, so we can both get new dress robes..."

Hermione groaned.

"Oh, lord, you're going to drag me on another shopping trip, aren't you?"

A malevolent gleam appeared in Ginny's eyes.

"Yep."

"I'm in for it now."

"Yep."

The two girls shared a knowing look, then dissolved into laughter.

"This is going to be a very interesting week. I can tell."

It was Tuesday.

That night, Hermione got to bed earlier than usual, anticipating her visitor once again. She didn’t really know why she felt he would come again, but for some reason she did. After lying in bed for a few hours, she finally got tired of waiting and rolled over onto her back. Parvati and Lavender had returned from their sleepover, and were now slumbering deep. It would be easier to wash Snape’s hair than wake those two.

“Where the hell could he be?” she thought out loud.

“Beats me.”

She nearly fell out of bed in her shock., but recovered and pulled herself back into the center of the sheets.

“Don’t do that!” she hissed. A chuckle sounded from the far corner of the room, and soft footsteps proved that he was crossing the room.

“Hello to you, too. How was the snowball fight?”

“Good, except for some kid who ambushed me…couldn’t see his f- you!” she gasped, suddenly making the connection. Another laugh.

“Very good...I hoped you'd figure it out by yourself."

"You're terrible."

"And proud of it."

Hermione scowled; how in the world was he able to always get her so tongue-tied? For once she had no smart comebacks. Actually, this makes twice, a little voice in the back of her head said. The girl told her ‘inner voice’ exactly where to go, then refocused on reality.

“...and Round Two goes to me as well. Tsk, tsk, Hermione, I would have expected better of you.” A sarcastic, playful tone colored his words, and despite herself she smiled.

“Just you wait.”

“As you wish.”

For a few moments, the room was silent. Then, Hermione’s bedsprings creaked, protesting the extra weight suddenly imposed on them.

“Mind if I sit down?”

“Go ahead. Make yourself at home.”

“Hm. Thanks.” The springs complained for a moment more as he settled in, then fell silent once more.

“So, Hermione-” he began, breaking the silence, “how’ve you been?”

“Not terrible. I’m still here and sane, so I suppose that’s all a girl can ask for.”

He snorted.

“I’d contest the ‘sanity’ part, but in the interest of keeping my own life I won’t.”

“Wise choice.”

“Thank you. So...have you heard about the New Year’s bash yet? I haven’t gotten the details, myself.”

Hermione brightened somewhat; now she had something to say, at least.

“Ginny filled me in after lunch. It’s...” she stopped to gather her thoughts, then continued. “Formal, Great Hall, six to two a-m. There’s a Hogsmeade visit scheduled for tomorrow, so anyone who needs them can buy dress robes.”

A thoughtful silence filled the air.

“Hmm. I’m good on robes, so I probably won’t be seeing you there. Unfortunately.”

He didn’t say any more for a few minutes, leaving the girl to puzzle over the hidden meanings behind his words.

“...but perhaps I could get a guarantee that I would see you at the party itself?”

“...What?” Hermione was thrown into a state of shock and confusion- was he asking her out? He chuckled at her obvious discomfort.

“I asked if you would like to go to the New Year’s party with me.” His voice was smooth and calm, but inside, the boy was shaking uncontrollably. ...What the hell is wrong with me?

But the time to think about that was past. Hermione blushed- even in the dark, he could tell that was what she was doing- and she decided to take a gamble.

“That sounds like fun.”

Now it was his turn to nearly fall off of the bed. For some reason, when he spoke, it came out as a squeak.

“Really?”

“Yes. But now, I think we’d both better get to bed. McGonagall will be making her rounds soon, checking to see if we’re all asleep. It would look very suspicious if I suddenly began talking in my sleep, wouldn’t it? And besides, it sounds like I need to find dress robes tomorrow. Ginny will drag me all over Hogsmeade, I’m sure, before she’s happy.”

Grudgingly, he agreed.

“You’re right. See you...tomorrow night, I suppose.” Something soft brushed against her cheek, and Hermione smiled as she fell back onto her pillows.

“Good night, Aaron.”

“’Night, Hermione.”

And within a few minutes, she was asleep. A lock of hair fell against her face, before being brushed back into place by an invisible hand. The door creaked open, and a moment later closed again, leaving the Gryffindor dorms in (near) silence once more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darkness...all around...swooping figures in black robes, all around me...dragging me away...and someone else...but wait...they’re gone...blue eyes...it’s going to be all right...

“Hmm...” Slowly, Hermione awoke. She had been having the oddest dream...what was it again? As soon as she had opened her eyes to the winter sunlight streaming in through the windows, the dream had become nothing more than a fuzzy, incomplete memory. “...wonder what that was all about,” she muttered groggily. Stretching and yawning, the girl finally decided to get out of bed. As she willed her muscles to move, Hermione was able to glance at the alarm clock.

“...What the hell? Nine a.m.?”

Groaning, the Gryffindor rolled out of bed and hurried to get dressed. If I’m lucky, I won’t miss breakfast...I gotta start setting my alarm. Even though she was a bit shocked at the fact she had overslept two days in a row, Hermione felt more refreshed and, well, alive than she had in weeks.

“I’m going to be hungrier than I have been in weeks, though, with missing meals...” she muttered as she yanked on a pair of blue jeans. A fuzzy green sweater followed, and the girl raced down to the Great Hall, hoping to catch the tail end of breakfast.

Luckily, Hermione arrived just in time. The last dozen or so students were slowly trickling out of the Great Hall, and there was still food on the tables. Before they were polished clean once more, she was able to grab an oversized muffin and munched on it contentedly.

“Hermione! There you are, we’ve been looking all over for you-”

“We even went to the library...Madame Pince gave us such a telling off for interrupting her breakfast...” Ron trailed off, reminiscing and wincing. “Won’t forget that one anytime soon. For a little while back there I wondered if she was the inspiration for Howlers...”

Hermione chuckled. No one expected the librarian to have such a fierce temper, and it was true that she usually didn’t, but, given the correct circumstances (or incorrect, depending on your viewpoint), Madame Pince’s fury was unrivaled.

“Well, here I am. I just slept in late, that’s all.”

Harry gave her a concerned look.

“You’ve been sleeping in a lot lately...are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, Harry, don’t worry. Better than I’ve ever been, actually.”

Her best friend brightened.

“All right. Just making sure...”

Ron coughed, then looked at the pair.

“Ah, excuse me, but maybe we should get ready to go to Hogsmeade? Isn’t that the reason we were looking for Hermione in the first place, Harry?”

The black-haired boy blinked, then nodded.

“Yeah, that’s right, Ron...Hermione?”

“Ginny’s already asked me along,” she explained. Sighing, she continued. “She plans on dragging me into every shop to try on every dress, and, as much as I’d hate to miss that, I’d better go with her.”

They nodded, Harry looking somehow more disappointed than Ron.

“All right, then,” he replied, trying to be cheerful (but failing miserably). “See you later...” With that, The Boy Who Lived turned and started walking out of the Great Hall, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head down. Ron looked utterly confused and embarrassed.

“Um...well...yeah. See you in Hogsmeade! We’re sure to bump into each other, somewhere...” The redhead took off, trying to catch up with his suddenly-sullen friend. Hermione stared after them, puzzled.

What’s gotten into Harry lately? Usually nothing short of Malfoy does this to him...

Sighing at the bewildering complexities of men, Hermione followed them out of the Great Hall, planning to find Ginny and get this over with.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Three hours later, Ginny and Hermione strolled through the streets of Hogsmeade, en route to their fourth dress shop. Hermione had predicted her day perfectly; every single set of dress robes in the shops they had passed through had been critiqued by Ginny and tried on by Hermione. Even at this early point in the day, the latter was ready to give up.

“Oh, come on, Gin,” she pleaded. “Can’t we at least stop for lunch or something? Anything?”

Finally relenting, the redhead steered her friend into the Three Broomsticks.

“But just for a minute! Then we’ve got to get back to work,” she replied. Hermione sighed in relief.

“Good. Thanks. My feet are killing me...”

Ginny laughed.

“Oh, quit griping and get a table.”

Fortunately, the pub wasn’t as crowded as it usually was. The reduced Hogwarts crowd probably had a lot to do with that, but neither girl gave it much thought. They were happy to simply have a place to sit down.

“What can I get you, dears?” Madame Rosmerta bustled over to their table, smiling. “Out shopping for dress robes, hmmm?”

Hermione smiled back tiredly.

“Yes...more or less...she’s dragged me out here against my will.” She gestured towards Ginny, and the older woman laughed.

“Good luck to you, then! What’ll it be?”

They ordered (fish, chips, and butterbeer), then began to look around at all of the people in the bar.

“There’s that Ravenclaw, Brian Kilbridge,” Ginny muttered, flicking her eyes in the direction of a brown-haired, laughing boy sitting down across the room. Hermione shrugged; she vaguely remembered the fact that he was a prefect in his Sixth year. Despite her being Head Girl, these types of things tended to slip her mind.

“So?”

Ginny looked scandalized.

“What d’you mean, ‘so’? What do you think of him?”

The brunette girl eyed him for a moment, then shrugged again.

“He’s okay.”

“What do you mean, ‘he’s okay’?”

“Just what I said. He looks fine. I’m not as boy-crazed as you are, all right, Ginny? If you like him, then go for it,” Hermione sighed, reading her friend’s signals perfectly. The girl gulped.

“...You think so?”

“Only one way to find out if he likes you or not. Go ahead!”

Nervously, the redhead stumbled out of her chair and started across the room to talk to the boy. He greeted her happily- at least, that’s how it looked to Hermione. Even now it was too loud in the pub to hear properly. Not five minutes later, an effervescent Ginny returned to the table, grinning like an idiot.

“And what did I tell you?” Hermione asked, gloating only slightly. Her friend was too excited to notice, she just kept grinning.

“He’s going to go with me New Year's Eve...” she stated, still semi-incredulous. The older girl chuckled, and was about to say something, but at that moment their food arrived.

“Here you are, dears,” Madame Rosmerta said, smiling, as dishes plunked down on the table. “If you need anything else, just ask!”

For a few minutes, their conversation paused in order for the girls to eat.

"So," Hermione said, breaking the contented silence, "have you seen anything you'd like to wear yet?"

Ginny looked up at her from her butterbeer, and shrugged.

"Don't really know...some of the dress robes looked nice enough, but I'm going to keep shopping around until I find the perfect thing to wear."

"So we're both in for a long day."

"I’d say so.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After two more dress shops (and four more hours), Ginny and Hermione were just about ready to give up their search.

"This is harder than I thought it would be," Ginny moaned. "There's nothing good left, not after Christmas and the others who got here before us!"

Hermione shrugged.

"Should we go back to that second shop and get the ones we liked most?"

Her friend sighed, admitting defeat.

"I guess you're right. Maybe we should cut our loss- hey! We haven't been there yet...and there doesn't seem to be many people around it..." The redheaded girl pointed at an old brick building with a weathered sign reading 'Witches in Stitches- Purveyors of Fine Attire Since 1800 AD'. There weren't many people around it, but that probably had something to do with the fact that it was beginning to get dark and the temperature was dropping quickly. Hermione shivered, pulled her robes tighter around herself and started towards the building.

"We might as well. It's a chance to warm up, at any rate. But this is the last shop, agreed?"

The younger girl nodded, then dragged Hermione inside.

"C'mon!"

The instant the pair crossed the threshold, they began to warm up.

"Much better," the brunette sighed happily, before being dragged along further by her friend.

"We haven't got all day, you know...before long we need to be back at Hogwarts for dinner."

"Hello, dears...how are you doing tonight? Were you looking for something in particular?" A small, thin old woman stepped out from behind a clothes rack. She spoke in a wispy, soft voice, and smiled as she walked towards the girls.

"We were, actually," Ginny replied, taking the lead. "Formal dress robes, for-"

"-For the celebration at the school, correct?" The old woman smiled. "I believe I have just the thing. Please follow me." She turned and strolled through the racks, occasionally taking a piece of fabric and muttering to herself. Finally, the woman turned around and called out, "Ariel? Ariel, could you come over here and help me with these two fine young women? They're looking for formal robes."

A voice somewhat stronger than the query answered.

"Of course, Mellie, coming. Formal robes, you said? Hmm...let me bring over a few for them to try on..."

Mellie led the schoolmates away from the racks, and over to what seemed to be the dressing rooms: two curtained alcoves on either side of a large, ornate mirror. Moments after their arrival, Ariel swooped into view with two dresses draped on her arms. She was a bit taller than her counterpart, and had only a few silver streaks through her black hair in comparison to Mellie's predominantly gray hair.

"Here you are, dears," she began, smiling as she passed them each a gown, "now go in, try them on and see what you think."

Obediently, each girl took an alcove and quickly changed.

Hermione was the first to emerge, and carefully studied herself in the mirror. The gown was beautiful; a floaty, pale pink material layered over white satin. Something about it didn't appeal to Hermione; she didn't know what, but it somehow wasn't quite right. Ariel took one look at her and disappeared into the racks again.

"That won't do at all, dear, not at all. Go back into the room and I'll hand you a different one...hmm..." her voice drifted over the racks, and Hermione disappeared inside once more.

Ginny appeared a moment later, grinning happily at herself in the mirror. A deep blue dress, strapless, with tiny stones sparkling all over like a field of diamonds clung to her in all the right places. She spun around once to model, and Mellie clapped.

"Perfect, perfect, a perfect fit on the first try!" she crowed. "Excellent work, as always, Arrie!"

"Thank you, Melificent...I think I might have found one for our tough customer, as well." The voice preceded the woman only by a few seconds, and Ariel walked into sight once more.

This time, she was carrying a dress made of dark green silk. Thrown over one shoulder was a sheer wrap, made of a different material in the exact color. The dress was passed through to Hermione, who soundlessly changed again. The raven-haired woman stepped inside after a few moments, when the rustling of the fabric stopped, and helped her with the last few buttons. Smiling madly, she walked out ahead of the girl and waited. Hermione reemerged tentatively, shrugging up her wrap, and stepped up to the mirror. Her breath caught in her throat. It was perfect, even with tussled hair and a wind-chapped face. The dress itself was strapless, like Ginny's, but the similarities ended there. Where her friend's gown was straight, Hermione's swooped gracefully away from her body before gently falling to the floor. The blue dress sparkled with stones, but the green needed no adornment, save a small smattering of silver near the hem. All three observers burst into applause.

"As soon as I saw that dress, I knew it was perfect!" Ariel laughed.

"I agree! You're absolutely gorgeous, dears."

They both blushed, but then Hermione snapped back to reality.

"Ah...um...how much does each of these cost? We've got to be getting back to Hogwarts." Dress or no dress, her mind grimly added. How much could a dress like this cost? More than she could afford, for certain. The two old women looked at each other for a moment, then came to a wordless decision.

"Meet us at the counter, dearies, and we'll work out our accounts. Bring the robes along, but change back into your street clothes. It's almost time for us to close up shop as well."

After speaking, Melificent vanished into the racks again, closely followed by Ariel. The remaining friends shared a skeptical, apologetic glance and went to their respective dressing rooms to change.

"Well, what do you think?"

Melificent sighed.

"I'm not sure what I think."

Her best friend for near fifty years gave her a searching look.

"Yes, you do. You always know, and you're always right, too."

"Well, you don't know that for sure-"

"Hmph. Liar."

"Ahem...excuse me?" The redheaded girl approached the counter, blue dress robes draped over her arm neatly. "Thanks for helping us find these and all, but I don't think we'll be able to-"

"What? Afford them?" Ariel snorted derisively. "Don't you want to know how much they cost, dearies?"

The two girls- friends just as the older women had been- shared a 'look'.

"Sure, why not," the brunette sighed. "How much are they?"

"Thirty Galleons apiece," she stated matter-of-factly. Hermione choked.

"I'm sorry, but we really can't afford that. Thank you for your help, though."

"What, are you going to go back without something to wear to the party? That won't do at all," Melificent sighed. "Listen, dearies, why don't we cut a deal?"

"What kind of a deal?" The older girl was immediately on her guard, and the shop owners chuckled.

"Nothing shady or underhanded at all, don't worry. The bargain goes like this: you buy the robes now, for fifteen Galleons apiece, but you come back here and buy your wedding dresses from us. Those are the real beauties," Ariel stated proudly. "Does that sound fair to you?"

The girls shared another 'look'.

"I suppose," the brunette girl said, still suspicious, "but how do you know we'll even need wedding dresses, let alone come back here to buy them?"

"Well," Ariel began, "Mellie here has a bit of a gift. She can tell certain things about a person just by looking at them. More by talking with them for a few minutes. It's come in handy quite a few times, and in my experience she's usually right. So, what do you think? Do we have a deal?"

Hermione looked at Ginny, who shrugged, and sighed.

"...Yes." She dug out fifteen Galleons for herself as Ginny did the same, and passed them over to the old ladies.

Then she smiled.

"Thank you very much. I'll be back, if I ever need a wedding dress. Have a happy New Year!"

After their dresses were prepared for travel, both girls left the shop, chatting happily. Melificent smiled.

"You'll definitely be back, dearies. Perhaps sooner than you think..." Turning, she followed her friend to close up shop.

“Sooner than you think.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Before long, the two tired girlfriends had arrived once more in Hogwarts. After dropping off their purchases in Gryffindor Tower, they hurried downstairs to dinner. Ron and Harry were already at the table when Ginny and Hermione entered, and the latter boy looked up at them morosely before staring at his food again.

"Harry?" Hermione asked hesitantly, "Are you all right? What's the matter?"

The black-haired boy's head snapped up to study her for a moment. He blinked, then shrugged, and opened his mouth to say something; he thought the better of it at the last moment and focused on the table.

“...Nothing, Hermione. I’m fine.”

Ron stared at him incredulously, then shoved his seat back. Muttering something about not being hungry anymore, he left the Great Hall. Harry looked after him, sighed, then trudged out after him. Hermione turned to Ginny, her eyes wide.

"Wh-what? Did I...what did I...?"

The remaining Weasley shook her head.

“No, I don’t think it was us...I’m going to go try talking some sense into those two.”

She left, and then there was one. The brunette sat, bewildered.

...What just happened?

“Oh, bloody hell,” she muttered. “I’m going to bed.”

As the last Gryffindor exited the Great Hall, a pair of curious gray-blue eyes followed her out. Their owner followed as well, curious as to what had the housemates so riled up.

What's gotten into him lately? Hermione asked herself as she roamed the halls of Hogwarts. At a time like this, she needed a quiet place to think. Gryffindor Common Room was anything but, and so she wandered. If the girl got caught, then there was always the library as an excuse...not that she was planning on being caught.

Before the holidays, things were normal! When did this even start?

Thinking logically now, the Gryffindor sorted through her thoughts and memories as she walked.

...Since the beginning of this year, things have been a little odd with Harry...he only talks to Ron now. It's almost as if-

"He's been avoiding me," she realized. The truth hit her all at once, and the girl moaned. Oh...that's the reason why... Suddenly, Hermione really needed to sit down. Turning to one of the doors lining the hallways, the witch muttered, "Alohomora." She heard a faint 'click' that was the lock opening, and quickly stepped inside. The layers of dust coating the chairs, floor, desks, and other things in the room proved that no one would miss the place for a while. Just another one of the many empty classrooms dotting the castle, but the girl was thankful for this stroke of luck. After shutting the door behind her (but not bothering to re-lock it), Hermione moved to one of the chairs and collapsed.

"How could I be that stupid? Why didn't I see it before now..."

The teen put her head in her hands and sighed. What a mess. She didn't see the door open once more, but a telltale creak alerted her to a visitor. Her head snapped up, expecting to see an angry professor standing in the portal, but all she saw was empty space. The door shut once more, leaving Hermione alone with this stranger. Panic began to rise in her throat.

"Hello?"

"Are you all right, Hermione? That scene in the Great Hall wasn't pretty."

The girl groaned again.

"Oh, no, the rumors'll start flying any second now..."

Under the cloak, the visitor winced at the faux pas he had unwittingly committed, but tried to comfort her.

"It wasn't that bad...and besides, I was the only one who saw it. The rest of 'em were too busy stuffing their faces to notice anything."

A small smile crept onto Hermione's face.

"Thanks. Should I assume that this is Aaron?"

"The one and only."

"Good." In the space of a few more breaths, she had calmed down quite a bit from her Harry-induced state of aggravation. He could tell that she was feeling better already, and smiled from beneath his cloak.

"So...what was all of that about, anyway?"

Hermione bit her lip, then gave an apologetic type of chuckle.

"Well...Harry's been acting odd all year. Dropping hints, I suppose, but I've been too thick to recognize them. Whatever I did- or didn't do- tonight was the straw to break the camel's back." She sighed again. "I've just been so close to him, for so long, that I couldn't think of him as anything other than a friend...and now I might not even have him as that."

Something in the boy's heart clenched, angry and anguished at the same time.

...What the hell...?

"So, Potter 'likes' you, and instead of saying something outright, dropped vague hints and expected for you to pick up on them? He has no right to go off and pout like that. Coward."

She looked at him (or at least, where she approximated him to be) searchingly.

"...Why do you say he's a coward?"

"He should have come clean to you instead of taking such an underhanded route."

"Underhanded?"

"Yes." Corrupt as some of it may be, his family had a code of honor, and the son lived by it diligently. Most of it, anyway. Hermione frowned.

"Well, how would you have gone about it?"

An idea popped into his head unbidden, and he couldn't help but act on the impulse.

"Like this."

He strode across the room, leaned over, and kissed her. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise at first, then closed gently. The robe slipped from his head, and a handsome, tanned face appeared. Her hands reached up to gently twine in his dark hair. After a long moment, she drew back from the kiss and stared into Aaron's icy blue eyes searchingly.

"...I...."

"Shh. You don't have to say a thing."

She nodded, then leaned into him, sighing contentedly.

"Thanks."

He nodded, and, as the form in his arms drifted off into an emotionally exhausted sleep, Aaron wondered how he was going to get himself out of this mess.

Or rather

, he thought grimly, whether or not I want to get out of it.

...Thank god I decided to take that bloody potion before I left...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hours later, Hermione woke up in the empty classroom, alone. Her lips twitched into a sad smile at the recent events, then she slowly picked herself up off of the floor. As she rose, something caught her eye. A folded piece of parchment lay on one of the dusty desks; written on it was a single word.

Hermione

.

Smiling again, she picked up the note.

I'm sorry that I couldn't stay, but I would be missed if I remained. Don't let Potter get to you; he will come around eventually. I'll try to come by tonight, but perhaps it would be better for us to meet somewhere else (those bears that you call dorm mates could probably sleep through anything, but I'd rather not risk it). McGonagall makes things difficult as well. Would you like to try the Astronomy Tower? If so, meet me there tonight around midnight. I'll be in your dorm around one, so if you miss me at the Tower I can see you then.

~Aaron

Hermione couldn't help but indulge in an ear-splittingly wide grin once she finished reading.

"See you there," she whispered to the empty air, then left the small, distended classroom. A few moments after her departure, the door swung open, then closed, once more. Invisibility had its advantages.

That night, around 11:30, Hermione decided it was time for her to leave. Before exiting the sanctuary of Gryffindor, she sneaked into the boy's dorm room and sat by Harry's bed. A sad smile touched her lips.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but you should have said something. I hope you don't mind my borrowing this." With a gentle tug, the Invisibility Cloak slipped out from under his mattress and into Hermione's waiting hands.

"I'll bring this back safe and sound, I promise." She picked up the cloak, and, with a whoosh, she was gone. The door creaked open to admit her to the Common Room, and the girl winced at the sudden noise. The Fat Lady made a bit of a fuss when the portrait opened and no one appeared, but seemed to think it was a practical joke and went back to sleep. Carefully, Hermione made her way to the Astronomy Tower. She was nearly intercepted by Snape, apparently out on a midnight stroll, but was able to duck behind a pillar and not bump into him. After another uneventful fifteen minutes, she finally reached the Astronomy Tower and took the steps two at a time. When Hermione reached the top, she had to stop for breath. Seeing that no one was around (no one visible, anyway), she carefully pulled off the cloak and hung it over her arm. Almost immediately another figure appeared, sitting in the window.

"Hello, Aaron," the Gryffindor murmured. Smirking ever so slightly, he stood and walked over to her.

"Good evening to you, Hermione. Feeling any better?"

"Much." She was inwardly pleased that he was concerned about her; certainly no one had come and found her during the three hours that she was gone earlier!

"That's good to hear. Did you get a chance to talk to him...?"

Even Hermione was able to see the slight jealousy in his eyes.

"No. When I got back I went to my dorm, and I'm pretty sure he did too. I haven't spoken with him yet."

"Hmm. He'll come around, eventually." Though he was gratified that she hadn't confronted Potter, 'Aaron' knew that he should at least try to be a comforting presence. Something he didn't have much practice at, granted, but something he should attempt nonetheless.

"Maybe," she murmured. Hermione wasn't quite ready to forgive her- supposedly- best friend yet.

"Was your day as bad as you thought it would be?"

The question threw her off for a moment, then she remembered shopping with Ginny. It seemed ages ago, though in actuality it had only been a few hours.

"Truthfully? No. It wasn't too bad...fun in some parts. Of course, we got robes from the very last bloody shop. I don't know if I'll ever be warm again." She chuckled, and he joined her.

It was good to laugh, after such a long time. For both of them.

The pair easily passed the next few hours talking, arguing (quite amicably), and (predictably) snogging. After all, you didn’t just sneak up to the Astronomy Tower to talk. Somewhere around two AM, Hermione began to fully feel the effects of her emotionally and physically draining day. Aaron noticed.

"Hmm, someone's up past her bedtime."

"No, I'm not..." The impact of this sentence was somewhat lessened by the fact that she yawned halfway through.

"You're a terrible liar."

"..'m not going back to Gryffindor. Everyone's in a bad mood. I’d like to stay here for a while." Sleep was closing in on her quickly, and she leaned against her lover for support.

"That's fine with me.”

"Mmmm." With a contented sigh, she succumbed to the subconscious. Aaron looked at his watch and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Just in time," he muttered as he dug into the pockets of his robes (being careful not to wake Hermione). "Here it is. The last dose should be wearing off by now..." And it was. Deep brown hair was slowly melting to a brilliant white-blonde, soft features were becoming more angular, and tan skin was quickly fading to pale. Making a face, the still-morphing teen downed the small vial of blue liquid. His features immediately began reversing, changing back to 'Aaron'. “Good for another six hours. I swear, this potion is a lifesaver.” He yawned.

“Maybe I’ll just...close my eyes for a few seconds...couldn’t hurt...”

Hermione woke up some time later, covered by a thick, woolly blanket. She yawned and blinked, then looked around the empty tower. Smiling contentedly, the girl padded over to the frosted window, where the first beams on sunlight were streaming in. The sunlight made her think of the time, and with a gasp she realized that it was morning. She grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and raced back down to Gryffindor, barely avoiding a collision with more than one teacher during her sprint. A few early-rising students were coming out of the portrait hole as she arrived, and so the truant was able to slip through without being caught. The Gryffindor dashed upstairs to the boys’ dorms, hoping to be able to sneak the cloak back to Harry before he woke up. Unfortunately, this was not to be. As Hermione flung the door open, she was met by a certain angry wizard missing his Invisibility Cloak.

“H-h-harry,” she choked out once she saw him, trying to hide the Cloak behind her back, “Good morning! Did you sleep well?” The nervous tone in her voice betrayed her at once, and her friend’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes. Better than you did, I’d bet, since you’ve been off sneaking around all night. With my cloak!” Harry stopped his tirade for a brief moment to glare and shake his head. “Honestly, Hermione, I don’t know what’s the matter with you lately. May I have my cloak back?”

Her shoulders slumped, and she quietly handed the Invisibility Cloak back to her friend.

“I’m sorry. But I knew if I asked you-”

“I’d what? Say no? So you took it?” He sighed heavily, then turned and closed the door. “I’ll see you later, Hermione.”

It shut with a quiet creeeeaaak and a small click, leaving the girl to stare, dumbfounded, at the pitted wood.. It was Thursday.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

For the rest of the week, Hermione alternated between avoiding Harry and making excuses to see Aaron. The latter wasn’t nearly as hard as the former; Ginny had become her sole companion, and, while she was thankful for the company, Hermione missed the two boys. Ron refused to talk to her, and she didn’t want to speak with Harry after the ‘incident’. Hermione had no problems making up excuses so that she could sneak out of Gryffindor at all hours. Aaron was game for any and all visits, so the two became closer during her exile.

“...Say, Aaron,” Hermione began during one of her excursions to the ‘library’, “why don’t you tell me about your family? I’ve said all there is to say on mine, and I‘m curious.” She honestly was, and didn’t anticipate the stiffening of the body next to her.

“There’s not much to say.”

She twisted around and looked at him curiously for a moment, then turned back around and smirked.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

He sighed, and buried his face in her hair.

“I am not going to ruin a moment like this by talking about my family,” came his somewhat-muffled reply. Hermione crossed her arms.

“Hmph. After all I’ve told you, I’d expect a little bit back-”

“Fine. You really want to know about my family? I’ll tell you something about them, then.” His tone suddenly took on an angry edge, and Hermione flinched, but he continued.

“My family. My father, my mother, me. She doesn’t notice me at all, just floats around the house and worries about her bloody looks. He notices me too much; there’s always something wrong. Something I need more work at. Nothing is ever good enough. I am counting down the minutes until I can move out of that godforsaken house, away from my family. Is that enough about them?” The edge didn’t leave his voice completely, but he calmed down a bit after finishing his speech. Hermione looked down, sorry she had brought the topic up, and picked invisible lint off of her robes. Aaron sighed.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that...I don’t like discussing them much. Bad memories.”

She nodded, and leaned back against him.

“I understand. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, then decided that it was time to head up to dinner. Hermione went her way, Aaron his, and that was the last time the two spoke before the Celebration.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I’m so excited, Hermione!” squealed Ginny, bouncing around Hermione’s dorm room. Once again, Parvati and Lavender had favored Padma’s company over theirs, and had gone over to Ravenclaw to prepare for the Celebration. This left a conveniently empty room for Ginny to bounce around in, and Hermione chuckled at her friend’s anticipation.

“I can’t believe I’m going to the Celebration with Brian! It’s going to be such a blast!” The redhead turned and looked at Hermione apologetically after her exclamation.

“The only thing I feel bad about is that no-one asked you, Hermione. I was sure that Harry-” Catching Hermione’s warning glance, she quieted. “Sorry.”

The older girl shrugged.

“It’s all right. Eventually he’ll come around.” I hope, she added mentally. “Besides...I do actually have someone to go with.”

Ginny stared at her in incredulity.

“And you didn’t tell me? Well, now you’d bloody well better!”

After all had been explained, Ginny was possibly more excited than she had already been.

“I can’t wait to meet him! It’s funny, though, I don’t recall any Aarons around this mystery man’s age...maybe he’ll tell you who he really is!”

Hermione chuckled again at the youngest Weasley’s wide-eyed curiosity.

“Maybe.” She glanced at the clock, and was startled at the time. “It’s almost five o’clock! We had better start getting ready, otherwise we’ll be late!”

Ginny saw the time as well and yelped, then raced off in search of her necessities. Laughing, Hermione got started as well. First, the dress. It was every bit as beautiful as she remembered; the green was the perfect shade for her brown hair and winter-pale skin. The few buttons that she wasn’t able to reach, the girl fastened by magic; Ginny still wasn’t back yet, and the clock was ticking. Her hair, grown somewhat more manageable and straight by now, was untangled into a smooth wave of brown by another simple charm. After a moment’s consideration, Hermione decided to pull it up in a simple ponytail and tie it with a bit of green ribbon instead of attempting something more complex. The flips her stomach was making certainly didn’t help her concentration at all, and doing something without the aid of magic would reduce the risk of her making an error. She slipped her feet into a pair of slight heels the same color as the dress (an extremely pleasant shock that literally fell into her lap when she unpacked the gown), then turned and surveyed herself in the mirror.

“Not bad,” she murmured, surprised at her appearance. She looked...older. Dignified.

“Not bad? I’d have to agree with you, you don’t look ‘bad’, Hermione,” Ginny commented from the door. She had already changed into her own dress, and in her hand was a small traincase that (supposedly) held cosmetics of all types, magic and Muggle. Dangling from her other hand was a pair of midnight blue shoes, identical to Hermione’s except for the color. The brunette, noticing her friend’s still-unruly hair, waved her over.

“Do you need some help with that?” she asked, gesturing to the hair. The redhead nodded gratefully, and in a few moments Hermione had finished. Ginny’s hair was smoothly pulled into a neat updo, off of her neck and safely pinned in place.

“There. Done!”

After turning around and checking the older girl’s work, she grinned happily.

“You’re unfairly good at that.”

“Hm. It’s your turn, anyway,” Hermione replied, referring to the makeup. She claimed she was utter bollocks at applying the stuff, and so that task fell to Ginny. Within the half hour, the two girls were finished, and, with a few deep breaths apiece, made their descent to Gryffindor Common Room.

Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus, and their dates (in Dean and Seamus’ case, anyway) were already waiting in the common room when the two girls arrived. Harry’s jaw practically dropped when he saw Hermione, and Dean and Seamus wolf-whistled. Hermione and Ginny laughed.

“Thank you. The lot of your don’t look too terrible yourselves...they clean up well, don’t they?” Hermione joked to the younger girl, who giggled in response. An uncomfortable silence descended on the room for a few moments after their entrance, but Dean broke it by clearing his throat loudly.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, we might as well start heading down there. No doubt the party’s already in full swing,” he added, winking at his date. Hermione thought she remembered that the girl was a Hufflepuff, but she wasn’t quite certain. Oddly enough, she barely registered that fact that, as a Hufflepuff, she shouldn’t be in the common room. Her stomach was responsible for her distracted sate; it was doing more flips and turns than a gymnastics competition, and the brunette was anxious to see Aaron again. It had been Friday when she last saw him, and hoped he wasn’t upset over their last conversation. Ginny snapped her out of her thoughts by tugging on her arm expectantly.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there all night? It’s time to go!”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hermione. You look beautiful.”

She jumped, surprised at the sound of the familiar voice and hand on her shoulder. Realizing who it was, she relaxed almost immediately. Immediately after relaxing, she blushed at the compliment.

“Hello, Aaron. Thank you.”

He emerged from the shadows, clad in dress robes of black. It wasn’t a severe black, like the swooping robes worn by Professor Snape. Hermione didn’t care to dwell on what he was wearing, though; that was far too much like Parvati or Lavender, and she had other things distracting her besides. Like Aaron, for example, who was now tugging her along the hallway, seemingly impatient to get to the Celebration. She chuckled.

“You don’t look terrible yourself, but it is going to be there five minutes from now.”

Aaron turned to look at her, his ice-blue eyes filled with excitement and sparkling merrily.

“Thank you…but come on! You wouldn’t want us to be the last ones there, would you?”

Laughing, she gave in and let herself be dragged along. One thought crossed her mind, and, after momentarily dampening her spirits, she shook it off.

It’s a good thing Harry and the others went on ahead.

After a few minutes’ wandering through the halls of Hogwarts, Hermione and Aaron entered the Great Hall. It was truly a magnificent sight, and they both stopped to admire it for a moment. The House banners had been replaced with the Hogwarts crest, but streamers of red, gold, yellow, black, blue, green, and silver crisscrossed the Hall. Most of the students and staff remaining over the holidays had already assembled there, and a small band was already playing in the High Table’s place. Hermione’s eyes suddenly widened, and she tugged on Aaron’s sleeve.

“Look!” She pointed to a lone figure on a broomstick, busily tethering to the ceiling what appeared to be an immense sack of balloons.

“...it’s Professor Snape!” she realized, and gasped despite herself when he nearly lost his balance. The entire student body clapped and cheered when he touched down on the ground again, and even from a distance Hermione could tell he was turning a rich shade of red. Something resembling a Muggle circus clown raced over to the poor professor, and after a moment’s study the Gryffindor realized who it was.

“Trelawny!” Aaron chuckled, seeing her as well. “At times like these, I can’t help but feel sorry for him.” As he spoke, Trelawny threw her arms around Snape’s neck. He struggled to get away for a few minutes, then slumped, defeated. She quickly dragged him off to some shadowed corner, and Hermione grimaced.

“I feel sorry for him too. Maybe he’ll curse her.”

The boy next to her snickered.

“He’d do well to hurry up, then. We should, too,” he added, surveying the dance floor. He held out his arm to Hermione. “Shall we?”

Blushing and smiling, she took it.

“We shall.”

Laughing, the happy couple made their way into the throng, determined to enjoy their time together.

“...What’s taken you so long? You came over here five minutes ago to get punch, it’s not that difficult.” Hermione regarded her date carefully. He had been staring at the punchbowls for the past few minutes, and a line was bound to form soon if he didn’t hurry. Aaron turned and gave her a skeptical look.

“I’m trying to decide if it’s worth the risk.”

“Worth the risk of what?”

“The punch might be spiked.”

She snorted.

“So what if it is?”

“I’m not planning on getting so pissed tonight that I can’t remember anything.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and ladled a bit into a cup for him.

“So don’t drink too much of it,” she suggested as she passed the drink. He swallowed the offering, scowling slightly, then nodded.

“Seems all right.” He helped himself to a cup more, then offered her his arm again. “Would you like to dance? The band must be getting discouraged, no one’s dancing.”

Giggling (Since when do I giggle?, she wondered), Hermione consented, and was whirled off immediately.

He wasn’t a bad dancer, she reflected some time later. Right now, she was taking a break and listening to the group play; Aaron had disappeared for the moment. Snape had reappeared a few moments ago, looking slightly disheveled and wild-eyed. He had made his was across the room quickly, his eyes darting around in a panic. Hermione could see why; moments after he passed from her view, Professor Trelawny had appeared, gazing around and asking random students if ‘you’ve seen dear Severus by this way?’ Most of those that she asked shared a common dislike for her and pitied Snape, so the Divination professor had to continue her search elsewhere.

Crystal ball isn’t much of a help here, is it?

the Gryffindor thought smugly. At that moment, Aaron returned, looking slightly worried. Once he spotted Hermione, he smiled, but she had seen the tension in his face. He pressed a cup of punch into her hands, however, and she didn’t get a chance to ask him what was the matter. As soon as the drink was gone, he took her back out onto the floor, and the excitement and alcohol soon banished all worry from her mind. She never noticed the pair of vivid green eyes, following her around the room, nor the jealousy and suspicion contained in those eyes.

Time blurred, and all too soon Dumbledore was onstage, the band was stopping, and everyone was quieting down to hear what the Headmaster had to say.

“My dear students,” he began, smiling at the crowd, “first of all I would like to wish you all a truly happy New Year.” This statement was greeted by whoops and cheers from the assembly, and he had to wait for the group to quiet down before he could continue. “Secondly, I would like to congratulate all of you. It takes a truly strong community to survive times such as the ones we live in, and an even stronger one to live despite the times. Those we have lost are not forgotten, but it is never good to dwell on such things. I am, beyond doubt, proud to call all of you my students.” More cheers greeted this speech, but Dumbledore had more to say. He raised his hand for quiet. “The midnight hour is near. If you would like to start the New Year with a bang, so to speak,” he chuckled, “please help yourself to a wizard cracker or two. And, lastly,” he continued, his eyes twinkling merrily, “if you are planning to open the year with a kiss, then I would suggest you find a significant other quickly. We haven’t much time!” With a flick of his wand, a large pile of wizard crackers appeared, along with a large clock. The time was 11:45, and a large portion of the congregation rushed for the crackers. Aaron turned to Hermione, his eyes gleaming in anticipation. She nodded, answering his unspoken question, then they too took a wizard cracker apiece. Aaron pulled his quickly (“As a practice run! These things are bloody unpredictable, you know.”), and it produced a white rose, a pair of socks that yelled “Happy New Year!” every few minutes, and a mass of glitter. He tastefully presented the rose to Hermione, who gave up her wizard cracker to a first year who hadn’t been big enough to grab one of her own. Midnight was just a few moments away, and Aaron pulled Hermione to himself. He grinned at her, then counted down along with the conjured clock:

“Five...four...three...two...one...” the school chanted.

“Happy New Year, Hermione,” he whispered as he closed the distance between then, and silenced her response with a kiss. Above them, the bag Professor Snape had planted exploded, showering the Hall with glitter, ribbons, and balloons. The Professor himself was running as quickly as he could for the doors, but was closely pursued by Trelawny. The few students not totally immersed in their revelry laughed at the sight, but Aaron and Hermione were not a part of that select group. There was a bigger surprise in store for them.

While they kissed, nothing else seemed to matter; Aaron couldn’t even think while he was like this. Nothing registered. Hermione was a similar case. So that was how Aaron’s transformation went unnoticed by them both; black hair melted into a brilliant blonde, and his tanned skin slowly turned pale. When they finally pulled back, she smiled, and brushed a stray lock of hair back into place.

It’s such a lovely color. So light, it’s almost-

Her mind screeched to a halt, and she pulled back, staring at ‘Aaron’ in horror. He was absolutely bewildered at her sudden hostility...until he saw his hands. His eyed widened as well, and he looked up at her in a panic.

“Hermione...I...”

“Save it, Malfoy,” she sneered, backing up quickly. “I don’t know what kind of game you’ve been playing, but I’m out.”

Draco blinked at her pleadingly, suddenly hurt.

“I swear, I never, I didn’t, you don’t understand-”

“I do understand. That you’ve been toying with me all this time. I-” She faltered, and for a split second he could see the pain in her eyes was equal to his own. “Just-” Words failed her, and she ran from the Great Hall, trying to get away before anyone could see her tears. “Stay away,” she whispered as she sprinted through the halls. “Stay away from me.”

Draco, meanwhile, still stood in the Great Hall, oblivious to the stares and whispers around him, oblivious to the looks of pity and of anger, and oblivious to the punch aimed for his face, right up to the moment when it connected with his chin. His last conscious thought was this:

What have I done?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione awoke some time later, and for a moment was disoriented. She was in the Hospital Wing; what had happened last night? Her beautiful green dress was hung over a nearby chair, and she was wearing a pair of hospital-issue striped pajamas. Madame Pomfrey bustled over, seeing she was awake, and quickly gave her a potion with the explicit instructions to ‘drink all of it and don’t get out of bed’. She obeyed, and grimaced when the potion hit the back of her throat; it stung a little, but in a few moments the sensation was gone and her head was cleared. The events of the past night were laid out neatly in her mind, and she groaned and put her head in her hands. A groan from the bed on the left answered her own, and Hermione sat up, surprised. There were curtains around the other bed, but she could very faintly make out a figure lying on the pillows. The figure’s breathing sounded labored, and she got up to see who it was, and what was the matter. For a moment she wrestled with her own curiosity and Madame Pomfrey’s orders, but curiosity won out in the end, and she crept carefully towards the bed.

Gently, she pulled the curtains aside and gasped at the sight; a pale, sickly, sweating Draco Malfoy lay on the bed, his head tilted to the side and his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. Tears stung Hermione’s eyes once more, and she silently moved to his bedside, wondering what had produced this. As soon as she had sat down in a chair near his head, Draco’s eyes opened, and he smiled weakly at her.

“Hello,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. She smiled back, willing herself to not cry.

“What happened? Did I...”

He shook his head.

“No...not your fault. Old...family curse...I knew about it. It’s entirely my fault...” The infirm looked away. “I’m sorry. About last night-”

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” she cut in. “I acted like a complete prat, and I’m sorry for it.”

Draco chuckled softly.

“So we’re both sorry.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes, until Hermione decided to get a question off her chest.

“Aar- Malf- Draco, did you...I mean, were you...” She searched for words, but he waved her off.

“I know. And...I wasn’t toying with you. All that I told you is true. My only sin was one of...omission.”

He smiled again, a feeble smile that illustrated his weakness. At this point, Hermione let the tears come. She clutched his hand, and cried quietly into his chest.

“I’m sorry...I’m so, so sorry...”

The curtains rustled to admit Madame Pomfrey, and they both started. She quietly moved to the side, her gaze on the floor, and by her body language Hermione could tell something was very wrong.

“Don’t be...please.” He winced suddenly, and his breathing quickened. Hermione gripped his hand even tighter. Draco sighed and shut his eyes, as if the world was suddenly too much for him to bear. Suddenly, his breathing became shallower, and the distance between the breaths increased. His skin, she saw with increasing horror, was becoming almost translucent. Tiny veins ran under the surface, a myriad of blue crisscrossing threads. After a moment’s rest, the boy opened his eyes again, and they were that same shade of brilliant ice-blue that they had always been. He smiled tiredly, then seemed to sink further into the bed.

“Won’t be long now. Sorry...you got dragged into this...” Even as he spoke, his voice seemed to become thinner, more distant, as if she were listening to someone far off. He blinked for a long moment, and his breathing continued to slow.

“Please,” he whispered to the silent, crying girl at his bedside, “please forget me. I won’t forget you, but do your best to get on with your life. It’s never good to dwell on these things.” Smiling at the bitter irony of his statement, he patted Hermione’s hand soothingly. Tears streamed freely from her eyes, and she held on as if she could keep him there by sheer will. He sighed softly, then his breathing stopped altogether. His eyes closed once more, and Draco Aaron Malfoy faded into...

...invisibility.

~Fini