Most Charming Smile

Disclaimer: Romilda, Harry, Hogwarts et al are the property of J.K. Rowling. The features chart and its consequences are based on the work of Louise Rennison (see pgs. 100-103 in Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging). Basically, if you recognize it, it's just being borrowed.

A/N:

Phew! After all this time, you're still reading? Cool :P

Thank you to my new beta, Pirate Queen, who jumped right into this with gusto and enthusiasm. And thanks again to the people who left such encouraging reviews for Ch. 2-- I would PM you all if the PM system didn't intimidate me!

Most Charming Smile

By Hazelle

Chapter Three: The Season

Due to the combination of hair styling brilliance and a divine networking gift, Romilda found herself in top form following her appearance at Quidditch tryouts. She was now sitting next to fifth years at dinner, practically a wand's length from where Harry Potter sat. Lavender Brown had smiled at her in library. Stephanie Caldwell was treating her as an old friend and had shared Romilda's table in the common room one evening as they did their homework.

Whatever mean, manipulative spirit had possessed Audrey in September seemed to have passed on. Audrey was back to her cheery, sarcastic self and Romilda soon forgot that she was angry with her and Erin. Her fury with the two of them had lasted for about a day, and Romilda was inclined not to count it at all because she had not run into Audrey or Erin on the day she was ignoring them.

All thoughts of Fan Clubs and cold shoulders were quickly replaced in the following week by a shared anxiety over Erin's boyfriend troubles. Erin had locked herself up in her dormitory, and it had taken an inordinate amount of persuasion and bribery to coax her out of Hufflepuff Den. Apparently, Marcus had taken a liking to a third year called Orla Quirke. Though he insisted that he fancied Erin more, Marcus was conspicuous by his absence and made no real effort to convince of Erin of his loyalties.

Aside from hiding in her dormitory, Erin had taken to skipping meals so that she wouldn't have to see Marcus sitting at the next table. She hadn't broken up with him yet, and seemed to think that if she didn't see him, she wouldn't have to break it off. After she missed the second Charms Club in a row, Romilda nearly broke into Hufflepuff Den herself in order to drag Erin back out into the world.

"She hasn't come to a single Herbology class since last week," Halimeda whispered. "Professor Sprout doesn't seem too upset, but she took Marcus aside once. I don't know what they were talking about."

"Do you even know this Orla girl?" Audrey asked, wrapping her scarf fiercely around her neck.

"She's cute, I suppose. I wouldn't call her pretty," Halimeda said, answering Audrey's real question and rolling her eyes. "She's only a third year."

"Merlin on a broomstick! I swear, to look at him you would think Marcus had at least an ounce of good taste in him," Audrey exclaimed. "That's why we put up with him every other bloody day. Erin needs to drop him, right now."

As the three of them milled around outside the entrance to Hufflepuff Den, Romilda thumbed through her Witch Weekly. She was trying to be interested in the news section, since it was the only part of her magazine that was newer than Audrey's. She was anxious for the next issue to arrive-- one could only reread the same boring news so many times. After every other Hufflepuff seemed to have departed, the painting swung open one last time and Erin poked her head out.

"Oh. You're still waiting," she mumbled. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she looked miserable. "Look, just go to Hogsmeade without me. Please."

Before Erin could close the painting, Romilda had dropped Witch Weekly to the floor and with Audrey's help, seized Erin by the shoulders and hauled her out of the portrait hole.

"No--please, I'd rather not--I don't want to see them together!" she wailed. "I don't have my cloak, or my marigold earmuffs!"

"We have them," huffed Audrey. "We had one of your girls grab them for us." She proceeded to wrestle Erin into her own cloak. Romilda produced Erin's prized marigold earmuffs and snapped them onto her head. The satisfying clap of earmuffs over ears seemed to finalize their plans for the day, as Erin stopped fighting them off and allowed her hands to be stuffed into a pair of pink mittens.

"This is for your own good," Halimeda assured her, tying a Hufflepuff scarf around Erin's neck. "You need to get some fresh air, a bottle of Butterbeer, and a new pair of shoes. No more recycling your own tears up in that dreary dormitory, surrounded by pictures of dumb Marcus."

Erin sniffled, wiping an eye on her sleeve. She didn't say anything, but nodded sadly and transferred her wand from her back pocket to her cloak. Halimeda linked arms with her, and the four girls made for the Entrance Hall. Filch was picking at his teeth with the end of his Secrecy Sensor and seemed quite annoyed that they were late. He checked and rechecked all their pockets in search of Merlin-knew-what before finally allowing them to head to Hogsmeade.

Romilda began to keep an eye out for Harry Potter the minute they got into town. She had heard from a reliable source that he often patronized the Hog's Head, and tried to convince her friends that they ought to try it out. Audrey refused point-blank to step foot into the establishment and continued on her path.

"Erin needs to buy herself a present," she hissed. "Then we'll go to Zonko's, and then to the Three Broomsticks."

"And to Honkeydukes," added Halimeda from behind.

"And Scrivenshaft's," Erin finally piped up, sounding sniffly. "Marcus still has my favorite quill."

"Why don't you just break up with him already?" Romilda asked, forcing herself not to complain over the fact that no one had asked her what she wanted to do on their first Hogsmeade trip of the year.

Surprisingly, Erin didn't burst into tears. Every time she had been asked this question before, she had become completely hysterical. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "I just--it just isn't fair. I've liked him for such a long time, practically since the first time we met and he's so sweet and funny! And he says he fancies me more."

"I still think he's a lout," said Audrey, pulling her scarf up a little higher. "I think you need to break it off yourself."

"Audrey's right," Romilda agreed. "You should be the one to dump him."

"But if he still likes me. . ." Erin protested, trailing off uncertainly.

The wind began to pick up as they approached town, but Audrey led them right past the inn and headed straight for Gladrags. She did pause for a moment outside of Zonko's, and all four girls stared in silence at the boarded-up windows. A small sign was stuck to the outside--"Closed Until Further Notice." Without saying a word, Audrey picked up the pace again and hurried a bit further down to the wizardwear boutique.

As her birthday was coming, Romilda didn't feel remotely guilty about looking in the designer section. Normally, her mother would insist that she didn't need anything that fancy for school, but Romilda was ready to take advantage of her birthday in order to get an outfit from Fashion Seer. Even if was the only present she got, it would be well worth it.

However, she was soon bored with what Gladrags had to offer. The minute they had stepped in, she had checked to see if Harry Potter was there. She hadn't expected him to be, since he didn't seem to do much shopping in the designer robe circuit. In fact, he only ever wore his school robes-- and when he wasn't in those, he was running about in Muggle clothes. Romilda literally had to drag Halimeda out of Gladrags in order to get her to look in other stores.

"What are you looking for?" Halimeda grumped, massaging her elbow. "Where are we going? I only got to look in the indigo section, and indigo isn't even my color!"

"Erin wanted to go to Scrivenshaft's," Romilda said. This shut Halimeda up at once, as their outing was supposed to be for Erin's benefit.

Once they reached Scrivenshaft's, however, Romilda felt silly for even trying there. She had never once seen Harry use stationary when writing letters. He usually opted for a regular old parchment, though at one time, Kate Tarleton had sworn up and down that she'd seen Harry use a napkin as a note (this mode of letter writing had been the cool way to keep in touch for several days after). When it was clear that Harry was not present, nor was he likely to ever be present in Scrivenshaft's, Romilda began to urge her friends on to the next stop.

"Let's go to Dervish and Banges," she said, rolling her eyes at a very flirtatious hands free quill that was dancing through the air and fluffing out its turquoise feathers. "Erin! Haven't you found your quill yet?"

Erin turned, holding up three different quills. "Well, it comes in different colors," she explained.

Romilda rolled her eyes. "If you're looking for a replacement, get the same color."

"But Marcus will have the same color. What if we're both using the exact same quill in class?"

"Does it matter?" Romilda asked impatiently. "Fine. Get the green one."

"Marcus's favorite color is green."

"So get the turquoise one."

Erin considered. "But I bought it in blue the first time because I like this quill in blue. It goes with that cardigan I have."

Romilda looked anxiously toward the door. If she didn't find Harry Potter soon, she probably wouldn't find him at all. Harry had a true celebrity mentality--he evaded attention like Devil's Snare evaded sunlight. She tapped her foot impatiently, watching the people walking by outside, ready to spring if, just by chance, the Gorgeous One strolled past. "I'm parched," she said loudly. "I think we should go wait in the Three Broomsticks."

"Wait for who?" asked Audrey with narrow eyes.

Romilda waved an increasingly impatient hand. "No. I meant lets just go to the Three Broomsticks and get something to drink. Or eat. I'm starved."

"Still Harry seeking?" Audrey teased.

Romilda responded with the most mysterious of smiles. "I'm not going to bore you with specifics, but I'm getting closer to Target H. Lavender Brown thinks I should definitely go for older guys."

Audrey made a sarcastic "ooh!" face and batted her eyelashes, but shuttled Erin and Halimeda out of Scrivenshaft's as quick as could be hoped for. All four girls clutched at their bags and dashed out into the driving wind. When they passed Zonko's, Romilda ignored it and walked faster. She thought for a moment that the boards wrapping all the way around the bottom floor windows looked like a gag in someone's mouth--but she pushed this aside and couldn't imagine where she would get such an image from. Probably from reading too much grisly news--this was precisely the reason why her mother didn't like to read the paper.

When they finally arrived back the Three Broomsticks, Romilda was thoroughly frozen and beginning to get discouraged. She had been sure that they would run into Harry Potter on the way back through the village. Hogsmeade wasn't that big. With Audrey, Halimeda and Erin trailing after her, Romilda quickly found the centermost table and seated herself opposite the door. If Harry and his cool entourage made an appearance, she wanted to be the first to know.

"Witch Weekly arrived today," Audrey said conversationally, withdrawing a glossy new magazine from her purse as she sat down. "Guess what season it is?"

"Break-up season?" Erin said miserably.

Audrey unfurled the magazine with a flourish so that it fell open at the center. Huge, glowing letters announced the beginning of the Most Charming Smile Trials--Witch Weekly's biggest international event. All of Romilda's favorite people beamed, grinned, laughed and brooded sexily back at her from the page. They were the most recent recipients of the Most Charming Smile Award-- Kirley Duke, Viktor Krum, Myron Wagtail, Gilderoy Lockhart, and a whole exceedingly charming array of other people from previous years.

"It's Most Charming Smile season!" Audrey only ever showed this much genuine enthusiasm for celebrities.

"Ooooh, is that Gilderoy Lockhart?" asked Halimeda, setting down four Butterbeers and pulling Witch Weekly toward herself. "I love him."

"It's the Smile Trials," Audrey said. "I think Barry Ryan is a shoe-in this year. Ireland didn't make it to the World Cup, but he got a lot of positive publicity by dating Meghan McCormack, and her brother won last year."

"I think Kirley will win again," said Halimeda. "The Weird Sisters have a new record coming out right in the middle of the voting phase."

Romilda said nothing in regards to either Barry Ryan or Kirley Duke, for at that moment, a draft of chill wind announced the arrival of Harry Potter. She ducked down and pulled out her small mirror, making sure that her hair was still attractively windswept and that her lip gloss, by contrast, had been left un-smudged.

"What are you doing?" Audrey asked, giving her a shrewd look.

Harry seemed to be very worked up about something or another, and shouted at his friends before storming to a table in the farthest corner from the door and throwing himself into a chair.

"The Beautiful-Even-When-He's-Angry One has just entered the building," Halimeda giggled.

"You know," Romilda said, struck by a sudden idea. "Harry Potter could beat Barry and Kirley for best smile."

"No way," Audrey gasped, but she was grinning mischieviously. "No way. Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

"Romilda is thinking that we should vote for Harry Potter," Halimeda confirmed, positively glowing with excitement.

Romilda could sense a change in the wind in regards to their Most Charming Smile devotion. Every year, they followed the polls and kept up to date with the nominees, and voted with confidence for the man with The Smile. Romilda was five for six in predicting and voting for the most recent Most Charming Smile recipients.

However, the situation would call for more than just a couple of random votes in Harry's favor. They would have to recruit other girls to vote for him as well, and they would have to write letters to Witch Weekly to determine just exactly how the Most Charming Smile nominees were selected-- the process seemed to require one part charm, one part smile, one part public support and eight parts fame.

"We can't just vote for Harry Potter," Romilda said wisely, raising her eyebrows and casting a look sideways at Harry's table. "We have to petition for him."

"Right," said Halimeda. "We've got connections, haven't we? We can totally do this. Harry is much more handsome than Barry."

"I'll write to Ruby," Audrey offered. "You know, my cousin who works for Witch Weekly." She clapped her hands together. "We will get a whole weeks' head start on this, since this issue doesn't come out until next weekend!"

"Yes, yes. We know," Romilda said tartly. Never mind that it was Audrey's magazine. It was still her idea.

Erin was the only one still looking unenthusiastic. She had freed her new quill of its packaging and was stroking the feathered plume in a dejected way. "Do you have a piece of paper?" she asked Romilda, her dull tone sounding out of place in the excited atmosphere of their table. "I want to test my quill."

Romilda reached for her own bag, but spotted the corner of what looked like a catalogue stuck under her chair leg. She retrieved it and tossed the thing to Erin, who proceeded to scribble and doodle in the white margins. When Romilda looked around, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had abandoned their table. Another gust of cold wind, and the door slammed shut behind Granger's wild tangle of brown hair. Romilda felt like she had just missed some kind of opportunity.

"Erin, you aren't still moping about this whole Marcus thing, are you?" asked Halimeda in her patient but probing way. "Isn't there anything we can do to cheer you up?"

"I have an idea," said Audrey. "Let's do one of those rate-your-features charts. We can get a whole bunch of people!"

"A what?" Erin looked dubious. "I'm not sure."

It was too late to protest however, and Audrey had soon recruited several girls from various tables. "It's more fun with a lot of people," she explained. "And people you don't know are typically more honest than people you do know."

"I look like a half-drowned hag today!" Erin whined. "I don't want people to be brutally honest!"

Audrey, however, was already explaining the game while Halimeda tore up a squares of parchment for the ten or so girls who had pulled up chairs around their table. Romilda kept one eye on the outside door, just in case Harry returned. She jotted down her name and copied down a column of traits as Audrey listed them off. When she finally took a good look at all the faces around her, she realized what Audrey had done: every girl she had selected to play was an acquaintance of Erin's. The entire fourth year at Hogwarts probably knew of Erin's plight--these particular girls were Erin's classmates, room mates, club friends and lunch buddies. Not one of them would give her less than an eight out of ten for any of her features during her time of Marcus-strife.

Audrey could be a right pain in the neck, bum, elbow--you name it--but she was a true friend at her core. "Everyone pass to your left," she commanded, snatching Erin's paper. "Marks are out of 10, which is the best. Leave enough room from everyone to fit theirs in. And be honest!"

Every minute or so, Audrey would yell for them to switch and there would be a mad flurry of paper-passing and nervous giggles. When Romilda got Erin's, she was pleased to see that everyone was following Audrey's example. Erin's lowest number was a seven, but there were a handful of tens and nines as well. They had just begun what would have been the last rotation when Professor Sprout appeared in the Three Broomsticks accompanied by a younger witch a very dark expression.

"Hogwarts students! Your attention please!" Professor Sprout called, shooting a small burst of yellow stars into the air to make sure everyone in the inn saw her. "A student was attacked just down the street, so we teachers have been asked to escort you back up to the castle. This blustery shopping expedition is being cut short."

Her words were greeted by absolute silence and stillness from the students. Madam Rosmerta hurried out from behind the bar looking very alarmed. A few Hogsmeade residents and regulars rose from theirs seats, ready to offer assistance (Or maybe to flee the scene? Romilda wondered.) A split second later, everyone was talking at once, wanting to know who had been attacked, who had done the attacking, and whether or not they would be allowed to finish their shopping the next day.

"The Aurors will be conducting an investigation, I'm sure," said Professor Sprout, glancing at the witch beside her. "In the meantime, you all need to come with me."

Chairs scraped along the floor as students vacated them, speaking in low voices. Romilda grabbed her bags and struggled through the chairs and girls that had accumulated around her. Audrey shouted over the noise, reminding everyone to return the charts to their owners. Romilda pocketed hers at first so that she could keep a good hold on all of her parcels. As the students moved out, Professor Sprout took a head count. She looked quite stern.

"I wonder who was attacked," Halimeda said quietly once they reached the street. "I heard that a whole bunch of students were attacked by a dragon disguised as a potted plant the year before we started."

Audrey chortled with disbelief. "Pur-leeease. How and why would a dragon disguise itself as a potted plant? What would it do? Incinerate its victims with pollen?"

"Some pollen is quite poisonous," Halimeda replied in a dignified way.

"Someone gave me a ten for my hair!" Erin exclaimed suddenly, in such a delighted voice that Romilda might not have known it was her. Erin was pouring over her features chart, grinning embarrassedly, clearly pleased with the results of the activity.

In a millisecond, Audrey had her own chart out. She said nothing, but looked entirely too satisfied. This sort of thing would go to her head for sure. Complimenting Audrey in any way, shape, or form made her a little too confident for Romilda's tastes. That was the sort of attitude that made Audrey a complete mismatch for Harry.

Romilda fished her own chart out the pocket she stuffed it in back at the Three Broomsticks. She cast a sideways glance at her friends, and flicked open the folds. Her chart read:

Skin 8 8 8 8 9 8 9 8 9

Hair 9 8 9 10 8 7 8 8 8

Eyes 7 6 61/2 8 6 6 9 8 8

Nose 8 7 8 8 7 7 8 7 7

Figure 8 8 7 8 7 8 7 9 7

Face 6 3 51/3 6 4 3 5 5 6

Smile 7 7 71/2 7 6 5 6 5 7

Romilda gaped in horror. She hadn't expected sub-average scores, certainly not as low as three-- which she'd received two of in the same category. What was wrong with her face? How was it possible that she had such high scores for eyes, nose and smile, but not for face? As far as Romilda was concerned, her face was her eyes, nose and smile. This was clearly some kind of ploy to try to subdue her. This is what jealousy would spurn her friends and rivals to do. It was so obvious, too. Some people had absolutely zero respect for themselves or others. How shameful.

"I've got three tens for my smile," Erin informed her, flashing a brilliant one that was completely devoid of its former sad sack qualities. "And almost all nines for my nose." She wrinkled it in what she clearly thought was a cute way. Romilda ignored her, further scrutinizing her scores. Some of them were rather strange (aside from being exaggeratedly low).

"It was a Gryffindor girl who was attacked!" Halimeda said suddenly, jerking Romilda's attention away from the paper. "Katie something, a seventh year."

"Katie Bell," Romilda said absently. Katie played Quidditch, but she wasn't the popular type. A bit too reserved for her own good. "Erin, did you give me five and a third for my face?" she demanded.

"Hm?"

"This looks like your handwriting. You gave me five and a third?"

Erin looked uncomfortable. "Er. . . no, I don't think so."

Lies. "What did you give me for my face?" Romilda pressed, eyes narrow.

"I, um. Well, seven probably."

"I didn't get a seven!"

"You didn't get a seven in one category?" scoffed Audrey. "Please tell me you got higher than that and not lower."

Romilda crumpled up her scores with a tart "tuh!"

"I guess she was cursed or something," Halimeda continued, though no one was listening. "Terry Boot saw Professor Hagrid take her up to the castle. She was having some kind of panic attack."

"Erin, I gave you nine for your face!" Romilda exclaimed. "Why did I only get 5-and-a-flapping-third for mine?"

"Five and a third isn't bad," said Erin evasively.

"I gave you nine. I was being nice, because you did look like a drowned hag after crying for several days straight!"

"I was being nice. I could've just left it at five, couldn't I?"

"No you bloody well could not! I don't see how my all my features can rate high independently, but get half the score all together." Romilda rounded on Audrey. "And very funny giving me a three, by the way. Ha ha. Why did you even put 'face' on here at all? That doesn't even make sense!"

Audrey looked like she was trying to hold in an explosion of laughter. Erin looked uncomfortable knowing that Romilda knew she was the perpetrator behind the random fraction scores. Halimeda was the first to speak, and her nonchalance and cool logic seemed to leave no room for argument or protest.

"It's your chin," she said crisply.

Romilda halted in her tracks. "My chin?"

The other three avoided eye contact, shuffling their feet awkwardly in the hopes that Romilda would keep moving. A third year boy whined at them to keep moving, but went around them. Romilda glowered at her friends and then reached up to feel her chin.

"Yes," said Halimeda. "It's fine normally. Just-- when you laugh-- it sort of sticks out. Just a bit. It isn't really noticeable."

"It sticks out?" Romilda asked uncertainly. She hadn't ever considered the possibility of such a thing.

"You're getting better," Erin assured her. "That's why I gave you the extra third." She beamed. "It doesn't stick out when you do the mysterious smile. The one you practiced so much last summer--"

"I know what my mysterious smile is, Erin." Romilda rubbed at her chin. She wondered if there was a way to adapt the mysterious smile into a mysterious laugh. She wondered if Harry Potter had noticed her chin and been repulsed by it. Surely it wasn't sticky-outy to the point of repulsive.

As they passed into Hogwarts grounds, Romilda inspected her chin in her tiny mirror. Now that she looked properly, she realized that her chin was absolutely huge. It was like an extra head all on its own. Audrey tried to snatch the mirror away as Halimeda explained that she couldn't really see her chin in relation to her face with such a small mirror. Apparently, it was just fine as long as she didn't laugh.

"There's no need to look so upset, Miss Vane," Professor McGonagall assured her sternly as they returned to the castle. Romilda was confused-- had McGonagall noticed the catastrophic chin problem? -but no, she was merely mistaking Romilda's chin anxiety for stress over something else. Probably the whole Katie Bell panic attack thing.

"I think I'm going to go have a nap," Erin said briskly, closing her eyes contentedly. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in the longest time." She plucked her mittens off and stuffed them in her bag. "Oh. Here's your 'zine," she said, tossing a pile of fluttering pages at Romilda. "I didn't write on any of the words."

It was the catalogue she had found under her chair leg back in Hogsmeade. Romilda made a face and cast around for a waste bin. There were so many people still squeezed in the Entrance Hall that she could've let it drop and it would never have been connected back to her. Catalogue shopping was for country-bumpkin types and shrill first years with minimal fashion sense.

Halimeda departed, citing the need to write to her mother. This left Audrey and Romilda, standing in the middle of the hustling crowd, not quite meeting each others eyes. Romilda had just decided that it wouldn't be uncalled for if she abandoned Audrey without a word and headed for lunch when the strangest phrase came out of Audrey's mouth.

"It was supposed to be a joke. I'm sorry," she said. "I figured you would do the same thing to me. When I said to be honest, I didn't really mean 'be honest.' I just thought it would be a fun way to cheer Erin."

Romilda nodded her head, stunned. Audrey was offering an apology? There really was a first time for everything. And probably a last, Romilda thought. She laughed, then tried hurriedly to hide her chin behind her hands, which made Audrey laugh.

"For what its worth, I think your hair is actually worth ten out of ten," Audrey confided. "Eight was supposed to be a grave offense. Jokingly, of course."

"Right," said Romilda. "Well, even if Erin's hair is short, limp and brown, I'm glad she has her confidence back."

"Exactly." Audrey began to move towards the Great Hall, where the majority of the windblown students were migrating toward the smell of food. "It wasn't about whose nose is the straightest, and it wasn't about finding out what those wannabe, hangers-on really think of us."

Just to see how it sounded, Romilda pulled her mysterious smile and tried out a laugh. It felt strange and sounded stranger. "What was it about, then?" she asked Audrey as they both headed for an empty end of Gryffindor table.

"Oh. You know." Audrey sat down at the table like she owned it. "It's all about empowerment."

A/N II: I hope to be quicker with my updates from now on-- I just hit a bad spot in March called end-of-third-quarter-of-my-senior-year, and then went through a beta reader switcheroo. I promise I haven't given up: the next few chapters are out there!