I\\\'ll Dream of Yule

I'll Dream of Yule

'Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!' Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the girls' staircase to bed.

Lavender and Parvati were both in bed already, and they seemed to be almost asleep after the dancing. Hermione ignored them; she untwisted her hair from its bun, and brushed it furiously, both to brush out the Hair Potion and to use up the energy from her anger. Crookshanks, sleeping on her bed, rolled over, saw her and came over purring; she scratched him under his jaw and calmed down further.

She changed, got into bed, and watched Crookshanks curling up again and falling asleep easily. She wished she found it so easy, and wondered if she'd get any sleep at all.

*

Hermione dreamt that it was earlier in the evening. She met Viktor just outside the Entrance Hall, in the grotto. The path was lined with the fairy lights that Flitwick had conjured, and she giggled as Viktor took her in his arms and waltzed her along the fairy-lit path. He whispered to her, 'Beautiful girls should dance everywhere and not have to walk.'

She murmured an embarrassed, 'Thank you.'

Once inside the Great Hall, they sat down at the champions' table just as they had in reality that evening. House-elves popped up through the table with trays of food which they carefully transferred to the empty plates, and then popped back down out of sight again.

The dream skipped over eating, so that they were suddenly dancing to the music of the Weird Sisters, and listening to the laughter of the students. Suddenly she realised why they were laughing: her pink frilly dress robes were identical to Pansy Parkinson's. She gasped, and looked away, only to realise that her shocking pink robes were identical to Parvati's blink her bright turquoise robes were identical to Padma's blink her colour-swirling robes were identical to Hannah's blink her silver-grey satin robes were identical to Fleur's...

... her head was spinning, and she let go of Viktor, collapsing onto the floor in front of the champions' table. Viktor looked around, confused, as if he didn't realise where she'd gone, and wandered off to look for her.

She looked down at her robes to clear her head, feeling sure there was something wrong with what she'd just seen. But now she wasn't wearing her dress robes -- she wasn't even wearing her school robes. She reached behind her to grab something to cover herself with, and realised it was a Hogwarts tea towel. Suddenly, she was the height of a house-elf, and wearing only the tea towel.

Ron was looking at her. 'I knew it all along. You're a house-elf, and not a girl.'

Tears sprang to her eyes. 'House-elves have rights! You can't just ignore me, Ron Weasley!' Then she realised something. 'And I am a girl! I am! Just because you've never noticed in three years doesn't mean I'm not! I'm not a house-elf, and I'm not to be taken for granted!'

Suddenly, she was full-size again, and once more wearing dress robes; maroon velvet this time, with a nice lace collar and lace at the cuffs. Now she was thirsty from all the dancing, and Viktor had disappeared completely, so she went over to the table where Harry and Ron were sitting. 'It's hot, isn't it,' she said, fanning herself with her hand. 'I wish I had a drink.'

Harry passed her a Butterbeer. Both boys already had a drink each, but Ron wasn't drinking much; he seemed to be staring at all the other girls in the room, and avoiding looking at her.

Behind Harry, she suddenly saw Snape, looking as sinister as normal, pacing along arm-in-arm with Karkaroff. Both glared at her, and muttered in unison about pretty Mudblood girls being a distraction for the tournament champions like Viktor. She opened her mouth to disagree, but a weight had settled on her chest, and she couldn't speak.

*

Hermione awoke to find Crookshanks sitting on her chest, staring at her face. She groaned, and managed to roll over, forcing him to move, then stroked him to show she hadn't really minded.

Lavender and Parvati both seemed to be asleep. Hermione got out of her bed without disturbing her cat, went over to the window, and sat there watching the Forbidden Forest, lit by the setting moon.

She thought back through the dream, and condemned it as mere memory overlain with too much concern for her appearance, identity issues and Ron's lack of interest in her. It worried her slightly that people in her own dreams would call her a Mudblood. She'd never realised before that the word had bothered her that much.

An owl flying over the Forest caught her attention -- just hunting, or a late delivery? She watched it, but couldn't decide. Either way, it looked right -- a necessary part of a moonlit scene like this.

She sighed, and tried to imagine Ron just sitting like this and looking quietly out of the window. No game of Wizard Chess, no Exploding Snap; just sitting and looking. She couldn't imagine him doing that.

It suddenly occurred to her that this was the third Christmas Day she'd spent at Hogwarts, and the first that she hadn't gone to the boys' dorm to see Ron and Harry first thing in the morning. This year, the other three boys were also there, so she'd felt she couldn't do that. There probably wouldn't be a Yule Ball next year though, and if Sirius cleared his name, and Harry spent Christmas with him, and she found Ron alone in the dormitory ... she sighed.

'Be realistic,' she muttered. Nothing would happen. They'd just swap presents as in earlier years. It was clear to her that Ron didn't feel anything for her, the way she did for him. She thought briefly about the way she'd waited for Ron to ask her to the Ball, and realised she was just too old-fashioned. She was a fourth-year, just as much as Ron was; she could have asked him instead of being passive and demure. Although -- if she'd been so forward, what would Ron have thought? Would he have been shocked? Would he have refused? She'd never know now.

She looked at the owl, now flying low over the Forest. It had to be hunting, but she watched it and imagined it was bringing a love letter from Ron to her. She then laughed quietly to herself. Ron? Send a love letter? Her imagination was running away with her.