Most ardently by Swift Night Chapter 8.
The weeks following the troll incident passed quickly, which
Hermione found to be both a blessing and a curse.
Her mind kept revisiting her enlightening conversation with
Mr. Potter, mainly centring on the revelations they exposed
about Mr. Malfoy. After taking some time to think
over the truth the aura had revealed, she had hoped to see
him again, if only to get to the bottom of it.
Alas, both Hermione and Ginny were disappointed when Mr.
Potter seemed to vanish from the village overnight.
The Aura regiment remained not set to be reassigned until after
the New Year, but still they failed to lay eyes on him since
he left Hermione at the Burrows Garden gate with far more
questions than answers. If Mr. Potter could not be
found, she would have to seek out other avenues of discovery.
Part of her wondered why she was so caught up in passing out the
mystery that was Mr. Malfoy, but still she could not stop her
mind from venturing back to thoughts of the gentleman any
time she found herself idle. The wizard puzzled her
exceedingly. She could not understand how
wildly the accounts of his character varied.
His close friendship with Mr. Zabini, a wizard whom Hermione
had found to be remarkably amiable, contrasted harshly
against Mr. Potter's testimony. The dichotomy left her tossing
and turning each night over how to place him while she hoped to
further discuss her thoughts aloud with Luna.
Her sister had grown rather distracted of late with frequent
visits from Mr. Zabini. The wizard had called on her
nearly every day since he stumbled upon them in the
village, and Hermione took it as a good sign of his serious
intentions. When he appeared each afternoon,
Luna was his sole focus. The couple took up residence on
the sofa next to the sitting room window, speaking quietly
amongst themselves about a wide variety of subjects.
Hermione did her best to give the couple privacy, but her ears
could not help but perk up any time Mr. Zerbini brought up a
certain blonde gentleman in the residence at Featherfield.
Mr. Sabini had all but confirmed that Hermione would be granted
another opportunity to observe the morose Mr. Malfoy at the
Yule Ball. It appeared he had not abandoned
Featherfield on account of Mr. Potter's appearance, a move that
was somewhat unexpected given his quick departure from Ottery
St. Catchpole the afternoon of the
troll incident, and according to Mr. Zabini, he had no plans to
leave until after the New Year. In the last few days preceding
the Yule Ball, Mr. Zabini was absent from their sitting room.
He had been occupied with the arduous task of ensuring
Featherfield was well prepared to host the Wizards and witches
of the neighborhood and those travelling all the way from
London to partake in the festivities.
Missus Weasley was nearly in a panic that first morning.
He failed to appear, spouting nonsense about how they must
have somehow offended him, but Hermione wasn't worried after
witnessing Mr. Zebini struggled to say goodbye to Luna during
his last call to the borough. Her only concern was that her
sister seemed prone to more wistful looks out the window
than usual. Now, with only hours remaining
before they would return to Featherfield, both Hermione and
Luna were filled with a giddy anticipation for a night of
dancing and revelry. Hermione sat at their vanity as
Luna carefully arranged her wild curls into an elegant updo.
It took an entire bottle of Sleek Easy's hair potion to
soothe and tame it into submission, but the end result
made it worth all the trouble. To secure everything in place,
Luna used a dozen Pearl hairpins that the Grangers had gifted her
for her 17th birthday. She had worn them during her
first ever ball, and she could not help but feel sentimental
any time she brought them out. The witches traded places and
Hermione repeated the ACT on Luna, though her golden blonde
hair was much more cooperative than Hermione's had been.
Instead of pearls, Luna had collected and preserved some
bright red holly berries, which she insisted were meant to
symbolise joy and winter resilience.
Hermione had to be careful to not squeeze them too hard or
they would burst and stain her fingers Crimson, but she placed
them without complaint, seeing as they were an agreeable
alternative to her sister's favorite habit of wearing
radishes for earrings. Once finished, the girls dressed
for the night. The last time Hermione had
donned her periwinkle gown at the Mudiste, she had felt the
look was tarnished by the various cuts and scrapes she had
acquired from her less than present interaction of fighting
off a mountain troll. Now her skin was unblemished
thanks to the strict dittany routine she had adhered to in
the last few weeks. While Hermione knew better than
to place all herself worth on her looks, she couldn't help but
smile as she admired her own reflection.
Luna's fair beauty contrasted against her own, but Hermione
always enjoyed the way their differences complemented one
another. Her sister's pale pink gown
added a rosy glow around her that Hermione was certain would
leave Mr. Zerbini breathless. Just as the sun began to set
over Ottery St. Catchpole, the Weasleys in their
wards loaded up into the carriage and headed to
Featherfield. The carriage had not been large
enough to also accommodate Cousin Ronald, but the wizard
was gracious enough to insist to take his own broom to the ball.
Though Hermione thoughts she heard him mutter something about
not wanting to attend at all. Hermione suspected his
reluctance had something to do with him being self-conscious in
his dress robes. They were another second hand
item he had acquired and were several years removed from the
current more refined style most gentlemen had been wearing
during Hermione's time out in society.
The most noticeable issue was the fraying on the cuffs from
where he had used a severing charm to remove some lace, but
the poorly done alterations left him looking somewhat
dishevelled. To spare him some embarrassment,
she subtly cast a tailoring charm while he was distracted by
Charlie to hem some of the worst of the fraying, but it was far
from a permanent solution. In the weeks since the run in
with the troll, Hermione's appreciation of Cousin Ronald's
actions had not affected her lack of romantic interest in the
wizard, much to the annoyance of her mother, but it seemed his
obvious attempts to woo her had significantly lessened, though
she could not say with certainty that they had not been entirely
forgotten. She was confident from his
grumbling that he would be unlikely to ask her for a dance
this evening, though Missus Weasley had insisted she not
refuse him if he did. Hermione promised to follow her
mother's instructions, but she failed to mention her plans to
avoid the wizard as much as possible in case he changed his
mind and found the courage. It was a relief to know that it
would only be a week more before his departure.
Dusk was falling upon Featherfield when their carriage
passed through its open gates. The thestals came to a stop at
the front steps, and the family made their way inside the
glittering entrance hall. Mr. Sabini seemed to have spared
no expense. The entire room had been decked
in Garland and icicles, and there was even a giant Christmas
tree in the centre of the room to serve as a focal point.
Several guests had stopped to mingle with other acquaintances,
including Mr. and Missus Weasley, but Hermione and Luna
broke away, heading towards the entrance of the ballroom where
Mr. Sabini and Pansy were welcoming their guests.
The witches joined the queue of eager revellers in order to have
their turn at greeting their hosts.
Most visitors simply offered a bow or curtsy alongside a polite
word, but when they reached Mr. Zabini, the wizard seemed in no
rush to hurry them along. Miss Lovegood, I'm so pleased
you're here. He said, a smile taking up his
face while Pansy watched on with a discerning expression.
As am I. Luna replied.
While they were speaking, Hermione caught a flash of
burgundy aura robes weaving through the crowd and wondered
if Mr. Potter had decided to attend after all.
And how are you this evening, Miss Granger?
Mr. Zabini interrupted her attempt to peer around her
fellow guests and noticed her eyes had strayed.
Of course. Are you looking for someone?
No, she lied. I'm just somewhat overwhelmed by
the decorations. It is breathtaking, Mr. Zabini.
Luna added, redrawing Mr. Zabini's focus who preened at
the compliment. After another minute of small
talk, the witches were finally allowed to enter, but not before
Mr. Zabini secured the promise of a dance from Luna.
Walking through the grand double doors into the two Storey
ballroom, they were deposited on the balcony that wrapped around
the entire space. Stepping inside the ballroom
felt like they were transported into a winter Wonderland.
Snow had been charmed to float down from the ceiling, the
flakes dissipating just above the crowds heads so as to keep
everybody dry. The grand ice sculptures were
spaced throughout the room and tables overflowed with treats
while trays floated through the crowds to pass out champagne.
The opposite end of the balcony across from them had been
sectioned off for the musicians responsible for the pleasing
melodies currently filling the space.
From her perch, Hermione spotted Jinny and Charlie already
dancing. She had been content to watch
from above until another flash of burgundy aura robes once
again caught her eye. Curious to confirm the identity
of the mystery wizard, she bid farewell to Luna and decided to
join the fray by descending the grand staircase.
Hermione had only reached the bottom step when she was
stopped. Miss Granger, how lovely to see
you. The young Mr. Diggory stepped
forward alongside his wife. I hope you have been well.
A pleasure. Yes, I am quite well.
I had not realised you had returned from your honeymoon.
Hermione replied with a courtesy.
We only just got back yesterday. Cho smiled warmly at her
husband. The seaside was lovely, but it
is good to be settled at last. It seems much has happened in
our absence. The newlyweds had been married
shortly before Mr. Zabini's arrival after a year long
courtship. Cho had debuted in society the
same year as Hermione in Luna, but she'd always been closest to
Jinny due to their similar interests.
A throat cleared next to Mr. Diggory, drawing the trio's
attention to the gentleman standing on one side.
Oh, how rude of me. Mr. Diggory chuckled, looking
from Hermione to the dark haired wizard.
Miss Granger, you must allow me to introduce my friend, Mr.
Victor Crumb. The wizard bowed low, reaching
out to take Hermione's hand and place a delicate brush of his
lips along her knuckles. It is a pleasure, Miss Granger.
She could not place his accent, but knew it to be distinctly
Eastern European, though Mr. Diggery soon answered her
unvoiced question. Crumb here is visiting all the
way from Bulgaria. What brings you to England, Mr.
Crumb? Hermione felt her cheeks redden
under the wizard's gaze. Quidditch and diplomacy, he
replied. Perhaps we could converse about
it further over our dance. Hermione felt rather silly not
seeing it sooner. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory had Florida
State executed the wizard's desired introduction to her.
She felt her lips pulling up and a smile.
Mr. Crum was quite handsome after all, and his attention was
indeed flattering. She agreed easily, much to the
delight of the Diggerees and Mr. Crum, and they made their way to
the dance floor. So how does Mum manage to juggle
Quidditch and diplomacy? She enquired as they fell into
step with the music. The wizard laughed at her quip
before answering. I am representing my country as
its liaison in preparation for the Quidditch World Cup next
spring. She likely should have guessed
as much, seeing as Mr. Diggory worked for the Ministry in the
Department of Magical Cooperation.
Jinny and Charlie had been begging Mr. Weasley to go since
it was announced that England would be hosting next year's
finals. How exciting.
Though I must confess I have never taken much interest in the
sport. Hermione knew it would do her no
good to feign interest in the subject.
Are you enjoying your time here? I am.
He nodded as they continued to spin around with the other
couples. Even more so now I have found
myself dancing with the most beautiful witch in attendance
this evening. Slanches.
Hermione felt her face warming further at the wizard's
declaration, even if she couldn't translate the term of
endearment. Hugh.
Flatter me, Mr. Crumb. The song came to an end and he
bowed to her. I wish to not take up too much
of your time, Miss Granger, but I must thank you for the honour
of your company this evening. It was a pleasure, Mr. Crum.
She meant it, having genuinely enjoyed her interaction with the
wizard. Should you ever feel compelled
to visit Bulgaria, you must vite to me first.
Slouches. Hermione could think of no
reason she would currently wish to travel so far, but she nodded
and thanked the wizard for his offer.
With the final courtesy, she departed and meandered through
the crowd. It did not take her long to find
a familiar face to offer her a reprieve.
Lavender, you look lovely. Her friend shone in a golden
yellow dress she had worn for the evening.
You seem to be the only one to think that.
Her friend looked on at the dancing couples with longing.
Not a single gentleman has asked me to dance tonight.
Her many opened her mouth to comfort her friend when cousin
Ronald appeared from nowhere. There you are, Miss Granger.
Hermione did her best to keep her face neutral, knowing the
next words to come from his mouth before he spoke them.
Your mother insists that I dance tonight.
Please indulge me so I can appease her cousin.
Hermione and Lavender both curtsied, ultimately alerting
the wizard that she was not alone.
Miss Brown? The wizard turned his attention
away from Hermione, bowing formally.
I had been open to see you tonight.
How are you faring since our last encounter?
I am much improved, Mr. Weasley, Thank you for asking.
Her minded did not miss how the wizard's eyes strayed to
Lavender and her mind immediately calculated A
distraction. Oh, I've just come from the
dance floor and I'm in desperate need of a pumpkin juice.
And perhaps you could dance this next set with Lavender and we
could have a turn later this afternoon if my mother remains
unsatisfied by your participation.
She left off the part of her plan where they failed to cross
paths for the rest of the evening.
I. I suppose that would be
agreeable to me, if you are willing, Miss Brown.
He seemed more flustered than before.
Of course, Mr. Weasley. Lavender smiled warmly at
finally being given an opportunity to partake in a
dance, even if it was with a wizard possessing 2 left feet.
Once her cousin and friend headed off, Hermione hid herself
amongst the throngs of revellers.
She took a glass of champagne off one of the passing trays and
nursed it. As she observed the crowd.
She caught a glimpse of Mr. Sabini and Luna dancing and
admired the way the couple moved together.
When their dance ended, they retreated to the opposite end of
the ballroom and Hermione decided to join her sister once
more. She nearly made it completely
around the room before she heard the familiar shrill of her
mother's voice speaking loudly with August Longbottom.
And of course, Luna's engagement to Mr. Sabini would lead to her
sister's being thrown into the path of other rich Wizards,
Missus Weasley insisted. Hermione cringed at her mother's
boastful nature and felt a pang of unease.
Mr. Sabini had yet to make any formal proposal to Luna, and
until he did, such matters should not be discussed so
publicly. Thankfully, the older which her
mother was conversing with seemed uninterested in her
prattling, but with the volume at which her mother was
speaking, others could potentially eavesdrop without
any true effort being expended. Missus Weasley's eyes nearly
fell upon her, and Hermione moved quickly out of her
mother's sight to avoid a confrontation.
In her haste, she nearly collided with Mr. Malfoy, not
realising he had been lurking nearby.
She had nearly traversed her way to where Luna and Mr. Zabini
were conversing with the other guests when she once again
spotted those familiar burgundy aura robes from the corner of
her eye. Her curiosity peaked and she
turned to confirm if the wizard was in fact Mr. Potter.
However, she was soon disappointed.
The aura in question was a broader wizard possessing a look
that exuded arrogance. Thinking it best to avoid being
noticed, Hermione attempted to retreat but was caught before
she could escape his line of sight.
After accidentally making eye contact, the wizard advanced on
her, practically pinning her to the wall.
Well, aren't you a pretty thing. With one sentence, she decided
he was not a wizard she wished to converse with.
What is your name, gorgeous? Unlike when Mr. Crumb had
flirted innocently with her earlier this evening, the wizard
in front of her wreeked of bad intentions and fire.
Whiskey, Miss Granger. She answered stiffly, eyes
darting wildly for an escape, but none could be found.
He hummed, stepping closer, far too close.
My name is Cormac Mcclagan. Hermione jumped at the raised
voice, interrupting the wizard. I insist that you step back from
the lady. She did not look away from Mr.
Mclagan until he complied with the order.
Once he had, Hermione's eyes drifted in the direction of her
Saviour, only to be further accosted by the realisation that
it was none other than Mr. Malfoy.
I meant no harm, Malfoy. A sentiment Hermione found
difficult to believe as the wizard made his excuses, seeming
to have taken on a sour expression at being caught.
Mr. Malfoy ignored him, turning instead to address Hermione.
Miss Granger, may I have the next dance?
Seeing as he was somehow the lesser of two evils before her,
Hermione agreed, willing to escape one misery by trading it
for another. Taking the scowling wizard's arm
and returning to the dance floor, Hermione resigned herself
to spending the next several minutes interacting with a
wizard she had vowed to loathe for all eternity.
The music began, and she realised the song was one of her
particular favourites. I love this dance.
The remarks slipped from her lips.
Indeed, it is most invigorating. He replied before falling silent
once more. His silver eyes trapped her as
their hands brushed for the first time since he had helped
her into the carriage. Eager for a sudden distraction,
she spoke again. It is your turn to say
something, Mr. Malfoy. Hermione informed him.
I talked about the dance, now you must remark on the festive
decorations or the proficiency of the musicians.
Confusion crossed his face before he quickly returned to a
more neutral expression. I am perfectly happy to indulge
you, Miss Granger. Please assist me by advising on
what you would most like to hear.
That reply would do for now. She spun on the spot.
Her original assumption of the gentleman was proven correct as
Mr. Malfoy was confirmed to be an excellent dancer.
Now we may remain silent. She had believed Mr. Malfoy
would be content to comply with her suggestion, but she had
forgotten his intrinsic need to have the last word.
Do you find yourself talking often while dancing?
No, I much prefer to be unsociable and taciturn.
I find it to make the activity that much more enjoyable,
wouldn't you agree? She was unsure what compelled
her to tease him, but his brow furrowed as he tried to
understand her implication. The music entered the
second-half, and Hermione hoped he had finally fallen quiet when
he changed the subject abruptly. Tell me, how are you faring
after your encounter with the troll?
I am entirely improved, though I suspect I would be in a much
worse state. Heard Mr. Potter not intervened
that day. I am forever grateful for his
courage in such a perilous moment.
She suspected the wizard would have a negative reaction to the
aura's name, and watching his shoulder tense at the mention
only proved her right. Mr. Potter is blessed by a
reckless propensity to seek out trouble.
He supplied. It is a wonder he has survived
as long as he has. One would think he was the
chosen one by some fate's design.
He has done the best he can with what he was given though, even
if he was afforded less than what he was owed.
Hermione observed his eyes narrow at her provocation.
Is there a question there, Miss Granger?
I hear such differing accounts on you Mr. Malfoy, and it
troubles me exceedingly. I am constantly left wondering
what my next discovery about your character will be.
I shall aim to provide you with more clarity moving forward, he
vowed. The dance came to an end and the
couples all gave their final bows and courtesies to their
partners. The moment the music was done
and the crowd began to applaud, Mr. Malfoy vanished into the
crowd without a farewell. Still somewhat dazed by the
encounter, Hermione set off, hoping to be found by Luna or
Lavender. Alas, neither of them appeared
before her. Instead, she stumbled directly
into the path of her dreaded cousin.
Oh, hello, cousin Ronald, She greeted casually, her mind
elsewhere. You could just call me Ron, you
know. The wizard seemed to be hiding
away in the corner, and Hermione wondered if her mother had
anything to do with it. Ronald is rather formal, don't
you think? Hermione didn't want any further
familiarity with the wizard and took a drink of her champagne in
lieu of a response. Her cousin didn't linger on it,
instead spotting someone else in the packed ballroom.
Professor. He called out.
Hermione watched a plump, balding wizard with a silvery
walrus like moustache look up at the formal title Professor
Slogorn. Ah, hello there Wetherby, good
to see you. He said as he walked over to
join them. And who is your lovely companion
this evening? Hermione had already made more
introductions than she desired tonight, but jumped in to
introduce herself before Ronald could speak for her.
Miss Hermione Granger, Sir, I'm the ward of Mr. Weasley's uncle,
Miss Granger. The wizard proclaimed loudly,
causing Hermione to jolt in surprise.
I had been hoping to make your acquaintance this evening, and
of course I must ask if you have any family relationship to the
potioneer Hector Dagworth Granger.
It seemed her cousin was entirely forgotten as Hermione
became the sole focus of the professor's study.
I share no relation that I am aware of Professor Slughorn, as
I must confess I am muggleborn. She shifted on her feet under
the wizard's intense appraisal. The wizard did not seem
disappointed by her explanation, only surprised as he prattled
on. Muggleborn.
How fascinating. Of course, I had assumed based
on your shared name and commendable recommendations that
it could have been true, but the truth only seems to make you
more of a marvel. Miss Granger.
Recommendations. Hermione could not hide her
confusion. Your reputation precedes you,
Miss Granger. Both Sabini and Malvoy have been
singing your praises this evening while I was catching up
with some of my favorite former students.
Mr. Malvoy even had the nerve to call you the brightest witch of
your age. Seeing as he was one of my
finest students ever taught. I knew I simply must meet you.
Her confusion was not lessened by the professor's explanation.
She could not even begin to calculate a scenario in which
Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Sabini would be led to speak of her with such
enthusiasm. I'm sorry, Professor, but are
you referring to Mr. Draco Malfoy of Wiltshire?
He is in attendance this evening.
Hermione wasn't sure how the wizard had failed to notice the
brooding gentleman, but then again, she had long since
accepted that her cousin's focus this evening had been primarily
on the buffet. Yes, I was not aware you were
acquainted with him, Wallaby. The professor replied, seeming
annoyed by Ronald's interruption.
I am not, but I should make myself known to him at once.
Her cousin declared my patroness, Lady Victoria
Greengrass, is immensely fond of him, and she's insisted most
adamantly that I make his acquaintance before the next
Wisengemot session begins, if I'm to serve as her proxy.
Well, that is the gentleman right there.
Professor Slerkorn pointed out, Mr. Malfoy speaking alongside
Mr. Sabini. I can make the introduction in a
moment if you would allow me to finish my discussion with Miss
Granger. No need, Sir, I shall introduce
myself. Ronald was already stepping
forward. Cousin Hermione attempted to
dissuade him. Mr. Malfoy will consider it an
impertinence. Nonsense.
I could handle myself, Miss Granger.
If he insisted on ignoring her advice, Hermione was not going
to stop him, but she did find it difficult to watch as he made a
fool of himself. It was like watching a broom
accident in slow motion. Cousin Ronald approached and
cleared his throat while Mr. Malfoy's shoulders tensed.
He did not turn. It took Ronald two more attempts
and drawing the attention of everyone nearby before Mr.
Malfoy finally acknowledged him with a glare her cousin failed
to perceive as he bumbled through an introduction.
What interesting relatives you have, Miss Granger.
The witch's voice said unexpectedly.
Hermione turned to see Pansy Parkinson smirking as she
watched the scene unfold. Professor, I must insist you let
me steal Miss Granger. I have a private matter I was
hoping to discuss with her. Hermione pondered what business
the witch could possibly have with her.
Had she overheard Missus Weasley's comments and wanted to
address them? Or had something happened
between Blaze and Luna that she needed to be made aware of?
She would not be able to seek out answers until she was rid of
the gentleman currently pestering her.
Miss Parkinson, I'm delighted to see you again.
I had not realised you were Miss Grange.
You were friends. Though it is unsurprising
considering how accomplished you both are.
Yes, Hermione is very dear to me.
Pansy's words were short. Now, please excuse us,
Professor, and enjoy the remainder of the party.
They had only just made it out of the wizard's earshot when
Hermione spoke, feeling a sense of urgency to uncover the
witch's motives. Pansy, what is wrong?
Hush, wait until we are out of his line of sight.
Pansy's demand only fuelled her anxiety, but she did as she was
told. When they placed a giant swan
ice sculpture between them and the professor, the witch finally
addressed her properly. Sorry, but I could not in good
conscience leave you in that wizard's company.
He would have trapped you in a mind numbingly boring
conversation about sourcing potion ingredients all evening
had I not intervened. That hypothetical scenario
sounded like a worse version of Priscilla's attempts to debate
cauldron thicknesses with Hermione over the summer.
So that was a rescue? Hermione clarified.
The witch smirked at her. Precisely.
I am not certain why my brother insisted on inviting all of
these people, and yet I have been unable to find a quality
gentleman to entertain me this evening.
You have your brother. She reminded her.
And Mr. Malfoy, my brother only has eyes for your sister tonight
and Draco doesn't count, especially when he's ignoring
me. Why is Dre, Mr. Malfoy ignoring
you this evening? I confronted him about something
and we shared words, though which did not seem inclined to
elaborate further, so Hermione let it go.
I had hoped Mr. Longbottom would have returned by now.
Hermione offered to return to their previous subject.
He was always my favorite gentleman to dance with, even
though he wasn't particularly graceful.
The ladies always made sure he got his practice, though I
recall how Jinny made him dance with her at every ball during
their first season. My word, he must be quite
handsome then. The witch commented, but
Hermione simply shrugged at her assumption.
Perhaps to Sam, but he is mostly sought after because of his
kindness. Mr. Longbottom was likely
considered the most eligible wizard in Ottery St.
Catchpole before Mr. Sabini's arrival.
Even though his family lacked A sizeable fortune, there was
something priceless about a wizard who possessed such
kindness and compassion. A kind wizard is much rarer than
a handsome one. It is a tragedy that I was not
able to meet him. His grandmother insists he will
be back in the spring. Hermione added.
I shall be sure to introduce you when he does.
The witch hummed in agreement as her eyes fell on Hermione's
sisters. The girls were dancing with more
gentlemen, giggling shamelessly as they made absolute fools of
themselves. It seemed Pansy couldn't refrain
from commenting on her sister's actions.
As I said earlier, you have interesting relatives, Hermione.
Hermione blushed and the witch seemed to have lost her interest
in her and left her in favour of seeking out someone worth
dancing with. She was once again left to
aimlessly wonder, only this time she finally looked out and found
Lavender. The girls watched as Mr. Sabini
and Luna danced for the third time that evening.
Pansy failed to find a more agreeable alternative and
settled for dancing with Mr. Malfoy, but Hermione at least
thought they made a handsome pair.
Mr. Sabini's eyes have not left your sister all night.
Lavender declared. Yes, and thank goodness for
that. I don't think he noticed my
family embarrassing themselves all evening.
Hermione was purposefully ignoring her sister's laughter,
which could be heard several tables over.
But how does Luna feel about him?
She's so reserved, sometimes I find it impossible to tell, and
I wonder if Mr. Sabini feels the same.
How could you not? She's so obvious in her
affection of him. Hermione was shocked by
Lavender's comment. If Mr. Sabini cannot see it,
then he is a fool. Oh, Hermione.
Lavender shook her head. We are all fools in love, and I
am afraid that if Luna does not make her affections known, he
might be convinced otherwise. She should snatch him up if she
feels so strongly about him, and we can get to know him better
after they are settled. Hermione could not find it in
herself to comment on such a statement, so she let silence
fall between the witches for the duration of the music.
When it was complete, Hermione watched her sister blush under
Mr. Zabini's compliments and managed to convince herself that
Lavender had simply been mistaken.
The night was at last coming to her close and the bell was rung
to single, the last dance of the evening.
Hermione was pleased to have avoided a dance with Ronald, but
before she could celebrate she spotted that rake Mcclagan
approaching as he tried to catch her eye.
To spare herself any other interaction with the wizard, or
worse, a dance, Hermione quickly made her way towards her father.
The Weasley patriarch had taken up residence at a table when he
arrived at the beginning of the evening and had yet to leave it.
Priscilla had already joined him, looking outright bored.
Luna walked over only a minute after Hermione, seeming tired
from the exertion of the evening.
Mr. Sabini did not take part in the final dance of the evening,
instead returning to the entry hall with his sister to begin
saying goodbye to his departing guests.
Slowly, the rest of the Weasleys congregated around the table
together to assemble for their own departure.
Cousin Ronald surprised her by partaking in the final dance
with Lavender. The pair joined the couples
alongside Ginny and Charlie, who had summoned new partners to
entertain them. Hermione cringed as she watched
her cousin step on Lavender's feet on three separate
occasions, but the witch smiled throughout.
Once the music had ceased, the crowds began to dissipate.
Mr. Weasley finally seemed eager to move from his post, but
Missus Weasley continued to chatter on even as most of the
guests had gone home for the evening.
Jinny and Charlie were falling asleep as they leaned on each
other's shoulders for support. When Missus Weasley finally
finished conversing with Missus Patil and they were at last
permitted to return to the Entrance Hall to wait for their
carriage, Hermione discovered her mother's motivation for
their delayed departure when she realized her mother intended to
monopolize the time of their host.
The Weasleys would be the last family to leave, and Hermione
was confident from Pansy's expression that the witch was
more than ready to have her home to herself once more.
Missus Weasley failed to notice that she was on the verge of
overstaying their welcome, insisting on thanking them for
their splendid party and inviting Mr. Sabini and his
sister to dinner at the Borough. The promise of at least three
courses was made, and her mother would not descend the steps to
enter the carriage until the wizard agreed.
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when the spectacle
finally ended. As the carriage door closed,
Jinny and Charlie had each fallen asleep and Luna's eyes
were struggling to remain open. Priscilla sat next to Hermione
and leaned her head against the window once the carriage began
to move. Oh, I've never had such a good
time in my life. Missus Weasley waved goodbye to
their hosts as she continued to speak at volume far too loud for
the inside of a carriage. Mark my words, Mr. Weasley, we
will be having a wedding at Featherfield Hall by spring, if
you ask me. Her mother's prattling did not
cease until they arrived back home at the borough, the witches
all dressed for bed in a daze, and by the time Hermione's head
collapsed onto her pillow, the sun was cresting the horizon,
signalling the arrival of Christmas morning.