Miss Hogwarts

Miss Hogwarts

Chapter Thirteen
The Redheaded Dancer

“I have to hand it to you, Ginny,” Hermione said between mouthfuls of potatoes. “You did a great job.”

“Oh, all I did was teach Harry a few things,” said Ginny, feeling a bit flattered. “It wouldn’t have made a difference if he wasn’t already so good at it.”

Someone had conjured two tables, each for seven or eight people, in the backstage. For Ginny, it didn’t matter that they weren’t with the rest of the Gryffindors in the Halloween feast, for everyone backstage was having a good time—and they had more food for themselves, anyway.

Hermione lowered her voice. “It must have been an interesting four weeks for both of you, hmm?” she asked with a meaningful twinkle in her eyes.

“Well,” Ginny said thoughtfully, “it depends on what you mean by interesting.”

Hermione shrugged. “You learned new things,” she replied slowly. “Modeling, makeup, dress...”

Ginny looked around to see if anybody was watching. She leaned close to Hermione. “Boxers, boobs and bums,” she said quietly, mischievously. “How’s that for interesting?”

Hermione ogled at her. “You’ve seen Harry in his boxers?”

Ginny felt the blood rush to her face. Why did that single moment have to be recorded in her brain so vividly, and why did she have to remind herself of it every now and then? “Yeah,” she mumbled. “It was an...uplifting experience.”

Hermione, of course, didn’t understand, or else she would have shrieked out loud for Ron to hear beside her. Nonetheless Hermione looked at her in disbelief and perhaps, Ginny noticed, envy.

Ron and Harry were engaged in a deep conversation themselves. Ginny began to wonder if, after their phenomenal dance number, their relationship had gone to the next level.

The Cantilenas, a famous band in the wizarding world, struck up a catchy number onstage and earned cheers from the audience. Ginny half-expected them to get up and dance if only they weren’t eating. She jiggled a foot under the table to the beat.

It was then when she caught Harry’s gaze on her for what was probably the tenth time that night. And again, he averted his eyes and went back to listening to whatever Ron was saying. It was as though Harry wanted to tell her something badly, Ginny thought, but couldn’t bring himself to because of the crowd. What does he want? Ginny wondered.

Hermione reached over to Ron and twisted his wrist slightly so she could look at his watch. “Fifteen minutes,” she muttered to Ginny. “You’d better get going.”

Ginny hesitated, then stood up awkwardly. “Okay. Come on, Harry.”

Harry downed the rest of his pumpkin juice and followed Ginny to their secluded corner. She handed him the green ball gown she had carefully chosen for him not too long ago in Hogsmeade. Ginny smiled to herself, recalling the day and how impersonal her relationship had been with Harry, unlike now....

Harry emerged from a cubicle a while later. While the dress had looked good on Harry in the dressing room in Gladrags, Harry looked even so much prettier now. The Snot Boobs really pulled the dress together and his hair floated down his shoulders, complimenting the sparkling pale green fabric.

Ginny then fitted a shimmering necklace on Harry’s neck and matching earrings on both of his earlobes. Afterwards she secured his hair with pins so that it didn’t fall all over his face. She wanted Harriet to look her best on this part of the competition—as this was the last time she’d ever romp onstage.

It was only as Ginny helped Harry put on gloves that she noticed something different about him. He looked—well, nervous was putting it mildly. He looked extremely uncomfortable, but not as if the dress made him itch or the makeup made him hot. It certainly didn’t look like he felt... that again either... but just to make sure, she glanced quickly at his lap and promptly turned red.

“Are you okay?” she squeaked. How many times have I asked that today?

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it...then opened it again, as though there was something he had been fighting to get out. Ginny raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“Gin—you know...we’ve been, er, doing stuff together for a while now....” Harry’s voice trailed off.

Something squeezed at Ginny’s heart so hard that she thought it might not resume its beating. Was this what she had been waiting for all her life? She stared at him, wide-eyed; he stared back, made-up face flushed, mouth opening and closing in succession. Music was heard from outside, but the beat of the drums only reverberated in Ginny’s ears without her really taking heed of it.

“Harry? Ginny?” Hermione suddenly interrupted. The two of them looked up sharply to see Ron and Hermione standing just behind Harry. Ron and Hermione seemed completely oblivious to what was happening between Harry and Ginny. Ginny inwardly groaned. Those two just had to interrupt on such perfect timing....

“You’re on in five minutes, Harry,” Hermione went on. “Ron will be with the audience. We’ll see you after the show, all right?”

“So much for moral support,” Harry said sardonically, but he was slightly smiling.

“Oh, come on,” said Hermione, stooping over to hug him. “I know you’ll win!”

Ginny thought Harry’s cheek twitched when Hermione mentioned winning. He didn’t say anything, though.

“See you later,” said Ginny, nodding at Ron and Hermione. “And tell Dad I’ll see him later.”

Hermione and Ron left, leaving Ginny with Harry again. Justin’s three escorts had also left already, and now there were only the contestants, their assistants, Betty Sparks and Eric Slevin left backstage.

Harry turned to her again. “You don’t mind me losing, do you?”

No, but I do mind losing you, Ginny said in her head. Wincing inwardly at such a cheesy line, she reached out to squeeze his arm gently. She loved doing so. Somehow it comforted her as much as she hoped the simple gesture would do the same to him. She shook her head. “Just do your best,” she whispered sincerely.

Harry only looked back at her helplessly. He looked so vulnerable then. Ginny wanted to do more than touch his arm, but another look passed in Harry’s eyes—it was the look he had given her when he had tried to tell her something. He suddenly made a quick movement, as though he was about to take hold of her hand, but then—

“I hope you haven’t filled yourself to bursting yet,” Lee suddenly announced outside, “because we still have a lot in store for you.”

“Lee’s right,” said Meg. “I expect our stomachs will be aching in no time.”

Amidst the cheers outside, Ginny hurriedly took off Harry’s glasses and arranged his hair one last time. Then, almost out of impulse, she seized his hands and looked at him fiercely in the eyes. “Look—no matter what happens, no one’s going to think badly of you. Just do what you can.”

Harry nodded, quickly but resolutely—or at least Ginny hoped he was resolute. She bit her lips anxiously as he fell in place behind Malfoy. Malfoy was in a backless navy blue dress with a halter collar and sequined patterns in front. Amusingly enough, he looked nervous enough not to throw a jeer at Harry.

Ginny suddenly became aware of Meg’s voice and the background music that was mainly made of violins and a saxophone. “—And now—presenting once again—the candidates of Miss Hogwarts in their evening gowns.”

This time, Roger came out first. He had on a strapless lilac dress that fitted his girlish figure so well it was scary.

“Miss Ravenclaw,” read Lee from a cue card as Roger crossed the stage, posing every once in a while, “is a well-known seventh year of the very dateable kind. She stands six feet, and tonight has genuine vital statistics of 36, 24, 36.”

The audience snorted in laughter. Ginny could see Professor McGonagall’s nose flare.

Malfoy came out next. Looking through the curtains, Ginny saw him sweep across the stage graciously.

“Miss Slytherin’s generous spirit has put on record her desire to help the orphans by joining this contest,” said Lee. “Just like a true Slytherin, her greatest ambition is to win this contest and for her posters to grace the halls of the Hogsmeade Orphanage.”

Harry caught Ginny’s eye. She gave him a firm thumbs-up.

Meg spoke next. “Now we have—Miss Gryffindor.”

Harry slipped through the curtains and greeted the audience with a wide smile and a sweep of his arms.

“There is little else to know about famous Miss Gryffindor,” said Meg. “She is a converted Chudley Cannons fan and a Chocolate Frog addict.” Where did that come from? thought Ginny. “One of her favorite pastimes is sneaking out at midnight and creating commotion in her Divination classes.”

Luckily Professor Trelawney wasn’t on the professors’ table. Ginny saw Snape sneer malevolently, though.

Justin came out the last, grinning widely. “And last but certainly not the least, Miss Hufflepuff.” Justin was wearing a simple peach gown with a sash on his arms and a large flower on his hair. Ginny shook her head in awe—Justin looked beautiful.

“Miss Hufflepuff confesses that she loves singing and dancing,” Meg went on. “She is a pro on stage performances, and she once became the star of a production when she was still attending a Muggle school. I doubt the production is all about cabaret dancing, though,” she added cheerfully.

Now the four contestants stood side by side in the middle of the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen,” said Meg, “the four contestants of Miss Hogwarts.” The audience politely clapped. When the applause died, Meg turned to Lee. “Now what’s coming up next is decidedly the most important part of the whole Miss Hogwarts contest. As I had said earlier, a real beauty queen is not only pretty, charming and talented, but also intelligent and witty.”

“That’s right,” said Lee. “To remind everyone, forty percent of a contestant’s final score comes from his—er, her question-and-answer score—which we’ll be holding right now.

“Our judges will be giving questions to our contestants individually, but the four of them will be scoring each of the contestants. Our candidates will pick a judge from this bowl”—Lee produced a small bowl with four strips of parchment inside—“and will have a minute to answer the question asked to them.”

Ginny hadn’t noticed the judges before, but now she could see them clearly, seated in the middle of the professors’ table. Two of them were stylish-looking women, although one looked older. The one sitting between them was a balding, smiling wizard. Beside the younger witch sat Madam Hooch, flanked on the other side by Professor Dumbledore.

Ginny felt her throat constrict. Harry had one minute. Looking at him now, she noticed that he wasn’t smiling at the audience anymore. He was nervous. But then again, who wouldn’t be, if the audience were looking so tense with anticipation?

“For our first contestant,” Lee announced, “Miss Ravenclaw, if you please.”

Roger joined Lee and Meg in front of the stage. Lee handed him a bouquet of daisies, which Roger took, smiling.

“Miss Ravenclaw, if you don’t mind me asking something that has interested me all evening,” Lee began. “Who did...um, your chest?”

“These?” Roger thrust his transfigured breasts outward. “Don’t you believe they’re genuine?”

“Well!” Lee laughed. “I never thought...anyway, please pick your judge, Miss Ravenclaw.”

Roger fished a piece of parchment from the bowl and read: “Madam Hooch, Hogwarts flying professor.”

Madam Hooch nodded. Unlike Professor McGonagall, Madam Hooch looked plainly amused at Roger’s transfigured body. “So, Mr. Davies—sorry. Miss Ravenclaw,” she corrected herself. “What do you think is your greatest asset?”

“These!” Roger exclaimed, thrusting his chest out once more. The audience roared in laughter. “No, seriously,” he went on. “It’s my friends from Ravenclaw that are my greatest assets. Among other things, they transfigured my body for this event.”

The Ravenclaws cheered wildly. Several girls chorused, “Go Roger!”

“I just hope they know how to put your body back to normal,” Meg laughed. “Thank you, Miss Ravenclaw. Now we have—Miss Slytherin!”

Roger went back to his place as Malfoy sauntered to the front, his hips swaying. Lee handed him a bouquet as well, but Ginny thought she detected a look of loathing passing between the two of them. Ginny wasn’t too surprised—she knew for a fact that Lee often announced Malfoy’s deliberate fouls to the crowd during Quidditch matches.

“Miss Slytherin,” said Meg as Lee gave Malfoy a bouquet. “I heard that it took quite a lot of convincing before you decided to join Miss Hogwarts. So how did you finally make up your mind?”

“Oh, it was the thought of helping others by joining such a...thoughtful and interesting contest that got me,” said Malfoy sweetly, batting his eyelashes to the crowd.

“Of course,” said Lee, smirking, “‘helping is a good thing,’ right?”

Malfoy gave Lee a sneer to match. “Indeed it is.”

“Very well,” said Meg. “Please pick your judge.”

Malfoy’s judge turned out to be “Miss Phoebe Theola, managing editor of the Teen Witch magazine.”

“Miss Slytherin,” said the younger, raven-haired witch among the judges. “What do you think is the best advice given to you for Miss Hogwarts, and why?”

Malfoy pursed his lips—and this simple gesture deeply bothered Ginny, because at that point Miss Slytherin looked so stylish that she could have been prettier than Miss Theola. “The best advice?” Malfoy finally said. “I suppose...it’s to keep in mind the orphanage whenever I’m onstage. Because if—when I win, it will be for them.”

The Slytherins cheered madly. Yeah right, Ginny thought, snorting. Trying to capture the audience’s sympathy, aren’t you?

“I’ll be looking forward to that,” said Lee, smiling in a discreetly sardonic way. “Thank you so much—ladies and gentlemen, Miss Slytherin.”

With a last pose, Malfoy went back to his place. Ginny’s eyes fell on Harry, and her stomach gave a horrible lurch. She could almost feel Harry’s nerves. She saw Harry take a deep breath as Meg announced, “Now for our next contestant—Miss Gryffindor!”

Harry strutted towards Lee and Meg, then waved towards the Gryffindors. “Miss Gryffindor,” Meg grinned at him as Lee handed him a bouquet. “So how did you manage to look so pretty up here tonight?”

Harry smiled back sweetly. “It comes out naturally,” Harriet said.

Ginny bit her lip to prevent herself from snickering with the audience.

“It sure does, Harry—er, I mean, Miss Gryffindor,” said Lee, coughing. “Er...just pick a piece of parchment, go on...”

Ginny crossed her fingers as Harry picked up a strip of paper and read. “Madame Sophia Clotho of Gladrags Wizardwear,” he announced.

Madame Clotho cleared her throat. “Good evening, Miss Gryffindor.” Harry nodded graciously. “For my question—what is the best lesson you learned in Miss Hogwarts?”

The question was predictable enough, and yet Ginny never asked it to Harry in their mini question-and-answer sessions together. Ginny groaned inwardly. What would she answer to that? Her mind was blank at the moment; meanwhile Harry, looking a bit uncomfortable as his eyes swept the audience, was silent for a few seconds, just like everybody else waiting for his answer.

Ginny began to panic. Was it possible that he didn’t know how to answer, either?

Just when the tension in Ginny’s nerves reached a peak, Harry spoke, and he said words that Ginny never thought Harry would confess to such a crowd.

“I learned that...makeup, dresses...all that vanity...aren’t what being a girl is all about.”

Harry paused; Ginny was wringing her hands so hard that they were numb. “Girls are sensitive and thoughtful...and they want to be appreciated for what they are.”

Ginny let out a huge sigh of relief. But Harry wasn’t done yet. He went on, “And they’re devoted to whatever they set their minds to—they’re devoted to their work, and...to people.”

Ginny felt her lips curve into a smile.

“Are you presently devoted to anyone?” Lee asked jokingly. “A tall, redheaded dancer, perhaps?”

Everyone in the Gryffindor table laughed. Several of them nudged Ron, who looked deeply disturbed even from far away.

However, Harry merely let out a mischievous half-smile. “Yes...it’s a redheaded dancer,” he replied.

“Oooooh,” the audience jeered. Ron became even more visible from far off since his face had turned beet red—he was scowling at Harry.

“I’ll certainly look forward to developments regarding your, er, devotion,” Lee said, grinning. “Ladies and gentlemen, Miss Gryffindor!”

Ginny clapped as hard as the rest of the Gryffindors. This was Harry’s last chance to claim the Miss Hogwarts crown, and he did a good job. A bit feminist, she thought, but isn’t that what Miss Hogwarts was partly about? And he used wits, too—

Then it suddenly occurred to her.

Ginny’s hand reached upwards hesitantly to touch her hair. It was a widely known fact, but strangely she had never been as happy of it as she was presently.

She had red hair.

* * *

“Miss Hufflepuff, you are admittedly one of the unlikeliest Hufflepuffs to join this Miss Hogwarts,” Lee told Justin. “What exactly did it take to put you here onstage tonight?”

“Ten Galleons.” The audience laughed; Justin giggled prettily. “No, seriously...my housemates tried everything until I finally agreed to no terms. Then I eventually learned to like being a contestant!”

Harry was strongly reminded of himself—although he didn’t know if he really learned to like being Miss Gryffindor. He had just pulled himself through everything, did his best...and now, in less than a quarter hour, the contest would be over.

It was almost over. Harry felt himself sighing in relief. He had managed to rid himself and Ron of stage fright, and had landed on an answer after quite a while just now. So many impossible things had just happened, and now he only had to wait.

“We have only one judge left, who is of course Mr. Aaron Custodis, founder of the Hogsmeade Orphanage.”

Harry saw Justin smile at Mr. Custodis in the way Malfoy, Roger, and probably Harry himself had to their respective judges.

“Good evening, Miss Hufflepuff,” said Mr. Custodis. “If you were suddenly turned into a real girl tonight”—the audience reacted violently to this—“what would be the first thing you’d do?”

Harry wondered what he would answer to that if he had been the one asked. A while ago when he was in front, he didn’t know what to answer at first—in fact, he wasn’t even sure if he heard the question correctly. Then his mind had wandered around—what was the greatest lesson he learned in the past four weeks? How to put on a bra the right way? That boys couldn’t resist girls who are “full of life”? To bring a pillow when a girl shaves your legs?

After a few agonizing moments, his thoughts had fallen on one person—and he had suddenly known the answer.

Justin, meanwhile, didn’t hesitate at all. In a girl voice he said, “Well... I don’t think we boys—because I’m really a boy, you know,” he added, grinning. “I don’t think we’ll ever fully understand what girls mean about how... they’re being given all that’s difficult in humankind, if you know what I mean. So what I’d do... is wait for a while until the female me gets married and have a child or two.”

Everyone laughed loudly, until Justin went on: “I think being a mother is one of the toughest things in the world and I’d like to feel what it’s like, to understand...just how strong women really are.”

The whole audience, obviously impressed, applauded Justin. Even Harry felt himself clapping along, although his gloves muffled any sound he was making.

“Very good, Miss Hufflepuff,” said Meg, beaming at Justin. Justin curtsied, waved at the audience, then went back to Harry’s side.

“Nice one,” Harry muttered.

“It came out naturally,” Justin whispered back, winking.

“And that was the question-and-answer portion of Miss Hogwarts,” Lee announced. “The most important part of them all. Now while we’re waiting for the judges to compute the final scores with the help of Professor Vector, our Arithmancy professor, the Cantilenas will be...serenading our four... lovely contestants for the last time.”

Harry found that his smile right then was just a fake one, plastered on his face for the sake of it. He was hot all over, his feet were already killing him, and a curl had escaped one of the pins on his hair. The Cantilenas, a four-man band, ascended the stage, bringing acoustic guitars and bongo drums with them. Then three of them started playing a song, while one of them, apparently the lead singer, approached them, holding an ancient-looking microphone which Harry knew only worked with magic.

“They read you Cinderella, you hoped it would come true.... That one day your Prince Charming would come rescue you...”

The lead singer approached Harry and Justin, grinning at them. The two boys smiled back at him, Harry in a very forced manner. Harry groaned to himself. He didn’t like this at all. He brushed a stray hair away and straightened his pose, wondering how long he would have to wait before the winner was announced.

The winner.

Harry gave himself a mental shake. What was wrong with him? He knew someone had to win...but almost forgetting that someone had to....

“I can love you like that, I would make you my world,” the lead singer warbled. The guitarists and the drummer had joined him in singing. “Move heaven and earth...if you were my girl...”

Harry squinted towards the judges. He could just make out the four judges and Professor Vector nodding in unison. Then Professor Vector went back to Professor McGonagall’s side. Professor McGonagall seemed to ask the Arithmancy professor something, but Professor Vector simply shook her head.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. They had a winner, he knew it.

“I can, I can love you,” came the last few lines of the song. “I would give you my heart, my heart my heart my world...show you you’re everything....”

The Cantilenas bowed to the audience as they cheered. Harry saw Madam Hooch hand an envelope to Meg. There was no need to ask what it contained.

Lee and Meg went up onstage just as the band left. “Bet you loved that, didn’t you?” Lee said in a lively voice. “Bet you’re also excited to hear our next announcement!”

The Great Hall exploded with cheers, the loudest ever that evening. Everyone knew what was coming.

“My announcement,” said Lee, “is to inform everyone that contrary to hearsay, Professor McGonagall says that classes will not be suspended tomorrow morning.” The students let out a collective groan. “Life goes on, people.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Meg said, and she really looked it.

“Me too,” Lee agreed. Then he dramatically took a deep breath. “My next announcement...is the winner of Miss Hogwarts.”

“YEAH!” the audience yelled, but the noise level in the Great Hall failed to register in Harry’s brain. All night he never felt as nervous as he did at that moment.

“To give out the award is our very own headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore...to be assisted by Mr. Aaron Custodis...”

The two men went up the stage amidst the loud applause of the students. Harry saw Dumbledore beam at them, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Dumbledore was carrying a pillow with a tiara perched on top of it. Mr. Custodis, meanwhile, was holding a velvet purple cape with fur linings.

Harry nervously fingered the bouquet. He had come this far, and he knew he didn’t do bad at all. But then again, everybody else—Justin, Roger, and even Malfoy—was good, too.

But wasn’t it possible that he would turn out to be the best among them? It sounded absurd to want to win in a drag contest, yes, and to think about wearing that tiara and cape was even more ridiculous... but Harry suddenly realized that he wanted the title. He wanted to be Miss Hogwarts. It was possible, wasn’t it?

“And the winner...” Lee tore open the envelope and eyed its contents seriously. Then he broke into a grin. He showed it to Meg, who smiled back and nodded.

“...Is...” Harry felt his stomach churn madly—wasn’t it possible?—

“Miss...”

Harry momentarily closed his eyes, and as he did he heard Ginny’s soothing voice in his ear: “No matter what happens...”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Harry’s eyes snapped open. Did he hear right? But the sight of everyone in the Hufflepuff table standing up in unison, yelling madly, confirmed it.

Justin had won.

Justin’s mouth was gaping open in shock. The Hufflepuffs chanted “Justin!” and “Go Hufflepuff!” alternately. The rest of the audience clapped politely. Harry saw everything in a daze.

He had lost Miss Hogwarts.

Yet strangely, he wasn’t thinking of the House points, or simply the fact that he had lost in something that many people felt confident he’d win. He was thinking of Ginny and all her efforts...all of them, wasted....

“Congratulations, Miss Hufflepuff,” said Meg, beaming at Justin, who had lost all poise and hauled himself towards the front in a boyish gait, hiking his dress up. He flashed a two-thumbs-up to the Hufflepuffs, mouthing “YEAH!”

Dumbledore fitted the tiara on Justin’s head. The tiara, simple and diamond-studded, looked out of place with the large flower on Justin’s head.

Harry’s eyes wandered towards the Gryffindors. He couldn’t see them clearly enough to be sure, but they seemed to be cheering for him. He grinned at them and slightly shrugged his shoulders; the noise from their direction became louder. Then he caught Lee’s eye, and Lee winked at him.

Ginny was probably right. No one would think badly of him.

Then he wondered what she would think.

* * *

Ginny had wanted to rush onstage and hug Harry when the winner was announced. The way his face had fallen broke her heart. It was like seeing him lose a Quidditch match, albeit with a dress and long hair.

Now Harry slipped through the curtains with Roger and Malfoy. Malfoy looked extremely put out that Ginny almost pitied him. Roger, meanwhile, seemed to take everything in good spirits—Cho had rushed to embrace him, and he only grinned cheerfully.

Harry, meanwhile, was squinting around. He spotted her, and hesitated before approaching her.

Ginny rushed towards him. More because she didn’t know what else to do, than because she had to do it, she pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it at his face. “Don’t move,” she said. “Deletrius!”

Harry’s makeup disappeared. Harry smiled gratefully and reached inside his dress to pull out of the Snot Boobs.

“Keep those for remembrance,” Ginny told him, grinning. “Can I also have my—I mean—!” She suddenly felt her cheeks burn.

“Your what?” Harry asked quietly.

Ginny bit her lip. “That...” She made a gesture over her chest.

Harry’s jaw dropped open. He looked down on his own chest, then back at Ginny in bewilderment. “This... is yours?”

Ginny shook her head, still biting her lips. She and Harry gazed into each other’s eyes, both of their faces very pink. Then Ginny burst into a fit of giggles.

Harry chuckled and turned around to let Ginny undo the bra strap. She took her lacy peach bra out of his dress and immediately stuffed it inside her robes, grinning at Harry embarrassedly.

Harry smiled, looking very self-conscious himself. But Ginny was in plain sight of the self-disappointment in his deadened eyes, and her heart wrenched just by seeing them.

Harry’s smile slowly faded. He slumped his shoulders in defeat. “I’m sorry,” he said in a whisper.

“Oh—Harry,” she sighed, She wasn’t able to prevent herself this time—she gathered him into an embrace. “It’s okay.”

Then, slowly, she felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her closer. Ginny found herself sighing against his chest. Couldn’t this last forever?

Harry’s hands were suddenly on her shoulders. She looked up at him. It seemed as though in the brief time they had embraced, his hair had gone back to its original length—but it was when she gazed into his eyes that her breath caught in her throat. Without his glasses, his brilliant green eyes shone and revealed everything that he could have told her that night, unhidden to her at that single moment. She felt, rather than saw, that he was breathing haggardly. It was enough for her to know what he had been meaning to say all night—

“HARRY!”

Harry and Ginny sprang apart. Fred and George had marched backstage, and upon seeing Harry pulled him and shook his hand hard.

“Ah, now why are you back to normal?” George said disappointedly. “We loved you in drag!”

Fred picked up the Snot Boobs from the floor. “The secret of Harry’s beauty!” he declared, waving them up in the air.

“Come on, Harry,” George said, tugging at his arm. “The party’s not over!”

Harry wordlessly let the twins drag him away.

“Wait!” Ginny suddenly shouted.

Harry whirled around to face her. This time it was Ginny who was trying to force words out of her mouth, but for the life of her couldn’t... but then again, she didn’t know what to say.

“You...” she stammered. “You...your...your glasses.”

Harry just stared at her. Ginny wished the floor could swallow her right then and there. Just when circumstances called her to be a true Gryffindor, the little girl who put her elbow in the butter dish with Harry Potter watching resurfaced. She clumsily dug in her pockets and held Harry’s glasses for a fraction of a second, savoring the feeling of the cool lenses against her palm...then quietly handed it to Harry.

“Come on!” George said again. Harry, still wearing that gown which now looked ridiculous on him, had barely gotten hold of his glasses when the twins dragged him out of the backstage.

Glumly, Ginny picked up her bag and, with a last look at the backstage, joined the rest of the Gryffindors in the Great Hall.

“Awesome! Perfect! Really great!” Seamus shouted.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Harry!” said Dean.

Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder. “We still have the Quidditch matches, don’t worry!”

Harry was now surrounded by several adults, including Hagrid, Mr. Weasley, and Professors Lupin, McGonagall and Dumbledore.

“Excellent performance, Harry,” said Dumbledore, beaming down on him. “Now don’t look so glum about it! Nice eyebrows, by the way....”

Professor Lupin shook Harry’s hand hard. Professor McGonagall, meanwhile, looked at Dumbledore witheringly.

“Ah, there’s my daughter!” her father suddenly said, grinning her way. Ginny returned his bear hug. “Hey, I missed you,” he said.

“You too, Dad,” Ginny said sincerely.

“So tell me,” her father said, eyeing her and smiling. “When did you learn how to put on makeup?”

“Just this month,” Ginny replied, grinning.

“Really? I thought Harry looked really pretty, with your help.” He peered down on her. “He didn’t find it awkward, did he?”

Awkward? Oh, just this afternoon, he was definitely awkward with it. “Er, no,” Ginny said quickly. “He was great, really....” A great kisser, too, if I may add.

“You must have gotten to know each other a lot better, then.”

Ginny ignored her dad’s mischievous gaze. “Yeah.” Wish he only knew what it means to me, though, she added in her head.

* * *

Ginny had feigned sleepiness at half past midnight while the rest of the Gryffindors carried on partying in the Common Room. She had found that she had little to add to the still ongoing conversations about getting Harry all made-up and pretty.

Because, in truth, most of what had happened in the past four weeks were only between her and Harry.

Harry didn’t try to stop her as she trudged upstairs and bid everyone goodnight. He simply fixed her in an unreadable gaze. Oh, she badly wanted him to finish what he had been trying to tell her, and at one point she had almost marched towards him to ask. But she was just afraid. She had always been, when it came to her feelings for him....

She walked into her dormitory and closed the door behind her. She dropped her bag on the floor and resignedly climbed onto her bed. She lay on her back, thinking that she should give Harry back the gowns he had used tomorrow, so he could give them back to Gladrags on their next Hogsmeade visit.

Maybe tomorrow, she told herself, closing her eyes. Maybe tomorrow we’d talk, and nothing will change....

She was suddenly jerked awake by something that fell on her stomach. Blinking, she registered that she had been dozing for quite some time now—but her roommates weren’t in yet, so she must have been sleeping for only a few minutes.

Ginny sat up, and her gaze fell on the large white box that had been so rudely dropped on her. She looked around her and saw a snowy owl perched on top of her bedside drawers.

“Hedwig!” Ginny exclaimed.

Harry’s owl flew towards her. Ginny stroked the top of Hedwig’s head. Hedwig let out a hoot, nipped at her finger gently, then sailed out of the room through the partly opened window. One of her roommates must have left it open.

Ginny’s eyes followed Hedwig as the owl disappeared into the night. Then, feeling rather confused, she looked down the box on her lap. She didn’t remember having sent for anything, and yet here was this package—sent by Hedwig—Harry’s owl—

Hadn’t Harry said earlier in the morning that he had sent a quick owl?

Rather abruptly, Ginny tugged at the orange ribbon that held the box, opened it—and gasped.

In semi-darkness, she beheld the dress that she had so hungrily stared at in Gladrags, when she and Ron had helped Harry pick his dresses. With unsteady hands, she took the dress and held it up against the moonlight.

The white fabric shimmered into a lovely pale gold color when she shifted it slightly. She stood up and held it against her body. It reached down to just above her knee. It was definitely a perfect fit.

Still feeling quite shocked, Ginny saw a folded piece of parchment on her bed. It must have fallen out of the box when she took the dress out. She sank back down on her bed and unfolded the letter.

Almost immediately, she felt her eyes well up with tears.

Ginny,

I’m sorry I lost. Maybe I’m not really worthy of any beauty pageant title.

Not while there’s a girl like you around, anyway.

Harry

Ginny fell back on her pillow, blinked her tears away, and whispered a silent prayer of thanks.