Finally, today was the day Harry was going to ask Hermione to the Yule Ball.

He was rather ashamed of himself, as it had taken him almost a month to pluck up the courage to even consider it, but now he was ready and he could hardly contain his excitement. Not telling Ron he wanted to ask Hermione to go with him had been almost as hard as trying not to blurt out the question in front of the class. But none of that mattered now; Christmas was only a week away, and the whole school was buzzing with excitement and nerves.

It seemed that Harry wasn't the only one who had waited for so long to find a date to the Yule Ball, as many students were to be found jumping with joy at being asked or being accepted by the person they most wanted, or crying that they had been rejected or hadn't been asked by who they had hoped for. If Harry hadn't been so desperate to go with Hermione, he probably would have thought everyone was overreacting.

Taking a deep breath, Harry climbed out of the portrait hole and set off towards the library, only to bump into Viktor Krum.

"Ah, Harry Potter. Jus' ve man." The Bulgarian led Harry down a side corridor, so as not to be overheard,"Vis is...not easy to say, but...vell, I notice vat you is very close to Her-my-own-inny, no?"

Harry swallowed nervously,"Uh...yes, I am. Why?"

"Vell, you see, I vanted to ask her to vis Ball ve is hasing next veek. I see vat you is much like a broser to her and I vish for your pe-miss-ing to take your Hermy-own to vis Yule Ball."

"Oh." Harry's heart dropped like a stone,"Well, you see, Viktor, I was sort of...um...I was actually just going to see if," Harry hesitated,"Hermione wanted to...well, go to the Ball...with me...so..."

Viktor's face displayed the same anger it had shown to Rita Skeeter as he placed a forearm on Harry's chest, forcing him back against the wall.

"Er...but if you...if...you were wanting then...maybe...we...you...I...she..."

"Spit it out!"

"YES!" Harry shouted accidentally,"Just...do whatever you want."

Satisfied, Krum released him,"Vhy, I zank you, Harry Potter. I vill show much niceness to your Herm-own-ninny."

"Yeah, thanks." Harry grumbled. Great, he thought, just bloody great.

Luckily for Harry, it was Sunday, so he was free to mope back up to his dorm and lie face-down on his bed, re-thinking his entire existence.

***********

Later that afternoon, Harry woke up. He jumped up upon realising he had slept all through lunch and was absolutely ravenous. Sitting down on his bed grumpily, Harry pulled out his half-completed Divination homework. Trelawney had told the class to map the stars every night up until Christmas and try and decipher their fates from them. Great fun. Harry hadn't completed his translation of the stars from the previous night, so grabbed a quill and some ink and hastily began scribbling some made-up story about how he was going to be thoroughly let down the following day, and would miss something important that meant a lot to one of his friends. After all, you can see the future if you are in the future.

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione suddenly flung open the door to the boys dorms and stormed in, looking furious,"Viktor Krum just asked me to the Yule Ball."

"Yeah, congratulations." Harry said bitterly, not looking up from his Divination work.

"No, not congratulations!"

Harry sat up, moving his homework to his bedside table,"What to you mean?"

"He told me what you said!"

"He told you what?" Harry said slowly, feeling suddenly quite ill.

"That you gave him permission to go with me! He said he wanted to make sure it was okay with you first."

Harry raised his eyebrows,"And that's all he said?"

"Yes. Why?" Hermione looked suspicious.

"Oh! Oh, never mind." Harry said quickly,"It's just...he can be a little confusing sometimes...I just wanted to make sure he...er...got the right message across." He lied.

"Hermione?" Harry knew something had been different. He peered at her incredulously,"Are you wearing makeup?"

Hermione went pink,"Oh...um...no. Well, maybe a little...um...no." She stammered.

"Right." Harry said flatly,"So, did you say yes to Viktor?"

"Of course not!" Hermione snapped,"I mean, it was sweet that he wanted to ask permission, but I don't really know him. He's winked at me a few times but, frankly, I don't see that as enough to make me like him."

Blimey, Harry thought.

"Harry?" Hermione said gently, sitting down next to him on the bed,"Why did you give him permission?"

Harry shrugged and muttered a hardly audible,"Dunno..." Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. "All right, he had me pressed against the wall and he looked pretty angry, so I sort of shouted,'Yes,' accidentally."

She groaned,"Oh no. He was furious when I said no. I think he thought that permission from you guaranteed that I would say yes...or perhaps he's just never been turned down in his life. He asked why I didn't want to go with him, so I tried to explain that there was someone I was hoping would ask me to go with them. It was quite scary, actually. I thought he was going to blow something up. It turns out he wasn't as angry at me as he was at you. He shouted something along the lines of,'Harry Potter, you filthy little rat, you lied to me!' and ran away. At least, that's what I think he was trying to say. I couldn't understand his accent." She sighed.

Harry was struggling to listen,"D'you want to go to the Ball with me?" He blurted out suddenly.

Hermione looked lost for words,"Oh..."

Sure that he had made a terrible mistake, Harry added stupidly,"As...as just friends, of course."

"Oh. Oh, of course. Just friends." Hermione composed herself,"Yes, Harry, I'd love to." And, just like that, she walked away.

"You idiot, Potter!" Harry scolded himself. Livid, he stood up from his bed, walked over to the door, and punched the wall just next to it. Harry swore under his breath as he clutched his bleeding knuckles. Why was he so unbearably stupid?

***********

Despite Harry's adamant protests, Hermione had continued wearing makeup every day that following week. As it turned out, he was the only one who had noticed any change in her appearance whatsoever, but he was most unhappy about it. All throughout perhaps the worst week of Harry's life, he didn't tell a single soul who he was going to the Ball with. Instead, he had been focusing on trying to find Ron a Ball partner, which hadn't been going too smoothly.

"Well," Ron had muttered to Harry on Friday as the trio sat in the common room,"I suppose I could always ask Hermione if I can't find anyone tomorrow. She won't have gotten herself a date."

Harry had slammed his book shut and snarled,"You bloody git!"

"Huh?"

"Harry," Hermione had said gently, unaware of what Ron had whispered,"calm down. What's wrong?"

"Him!" Harry had shouted, before storming up to his dorm.

It was finally Christmas morning, and Harry was in slightly higher spirits than he had been before. The boys had managed to sort of make it up the previous day, but Harry hadn't really forgiven Ron.

A light knock came from the door. Sliding out of bed, Harry put on his glasses and pulled open the door. Hermione stood there, grinning toothily at him. She was fully dressed with a pink knitted hat, scarf and gloves too, an odd sight so early in the morning.

"Happy Christmas, Harry!" She whispered.

"Happy Christmas, Hermione!" Harry grabbed some of his clothes, hurried into the bathroom and got changed. He then tiptoed over to his trunk and pulled out Hermione's presents.

The pair ran downstairs and out into the courtyard. Hermione led Harry all the way to the Black Lake, where they sat down face-to-face in the snow.

"Your go first!" Hermione thrust a box into Harry's gloved hands.

Opening the large box, Harry beamed. It was half-filled with wrapped up Treacle Tarts (not from the school kitchens, mind). The other half of the box contained a large set of toy soldiers and a multipack of Mars Bars - Harry's all-time-favourite chocolate.

"Blimey! Thanks, Hermione!" He grinned.

The parcel Harry had gotten her was notably softer than the one she had gotten him. The first thing Harry had wrapped for her was an old moleskine notebook. Next, he had bought her a soft burgundy jumper that Hermione had adored so much that she had replaced the Gryffindor Quidditch jumper she already had on over her t-shirt with it straight away. He had also ordered a large box of Pumpkin Pasties from Hogsmeade that they shared at lunchtime. Finally, Harry had gotten her a small pack of makeup wipes. As soon as she saw them, Hermione had started laughing.

"What are these for?" She asked, although Harry was certain she already knew.

"So that I," Harry reached over and took the packet from her. He opened it and pulled out a wipe, leaning towards her,"can do this." Being extremely gentle, Harry began wiping Hermione's face, being sure to get all of the makeup off,"Because you don't need makeup to be pretty, you know that. You don't need to hide who you are because you don't like it. Someone does, and that's the whole point of friendship: loving in others what they don't love in themselves." Harry moved the wipe away form Hermione's face. She was very close to tears. He continued,"If it makes you feel any better, I went through a makeup-obsessed phase when I was ten."

"You did?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Well...no, but you get my point."

"I do." Hermione smiled genuinely,"Thank you, Harry. Really."

***********

"Mate, for Merlin's sake, the Ball started half-an-hour ago. Can you please just tell me who you're going with? I've been waiting all week!" Ron moaned, struggling not to eye-up an extremely attractive silvery-blonde haired Beauxbatons girl who looked no older than twelve.

Fleur Delacour hurried up to the girl and hugged her,"Ah, Gabrielle, ma sœur! Roger, Roger! Zis is my little sister, Gabrielle." Fleur turned to her Ball partner - Roger Davies - hugging her sister closely.

"Ron!" Harry snapped his fingers in front of Ron's face,"That girl's probably half your age, snap out of it!"

"Right...sorry..." Ron grumbled,"You seen Padma anywhere? Don't think she's keen on being my partner, 'specially after she saw me ask Lavender first, but the least she can do is show up!"

"I haven't seen her." Harry lied. He had seen Padma dancing with Poliakoff from Durmstrang twenty minutes ago. "Where's Hermione?"

"Dunno." Ron handed Harry a glass of Firewhiskey,"Probably not coming. Try this, trust me, it's delicious. Just don't tell my mum."

Sighing, Harry took a sip of the drink. It was actually quite nice. Ron was howling at him. "What?"

"Too much! Way to much!"

"But I only had a si-" Harry suddenly felt a strong burning sensation in the back of his throat,"Ah! Aaah! Ron get it off! Eugh, that's disgusting!"

"Drink - some - water!" Ron wheezed in between laughs.

"Ron, it burns!"

"Shut up, Harry! It's not that bad!" Seamus and Dean ran over to them.

"Yeah, we have tons of it back in Ireland." Seamus grinned,"Why, it's like water to us."

Harry gasped for air,"I'm never - drinking anything - ever again!"

Still laughing, Ron said,"Oh, but you've never tried Single Malt Whiskey, Harry. George has some. It tastes great, and it does stuff to your brain. Makes you happy." At Harry's hesitation, he added,"It doesn't burn your mouth off, swear on my life."

"All right, I'll try some. Just a sip, though." Harry grinned, picking up a glass from George's tray,"Surely they shouldn't be letting you give alcohol to fourteen-year-olds."

"D'you really think the schools know what we're up to?" George rolled his eyes,"Ron's right about this one, though. Best drink you'll ever taste - besides Butterbeer, of course."

Harry clinked his glass against Ron's, Dean's and Seamus' in turn before taking a sip of the Whiskey. It was delicious.

Lavender, Padma and Parvati suddenly hurried up to the boys anxiously.

"Oh, Ron!" Padma smiled at him falsely,"There you are!"

"Dean, where have you been?" Lavender demanded.

"Seamus, your Beauxbatons girlfriend wants you to dance." Parvati grumbled.

"Oi, she's not my girlfriend." Seamus ran off to talk to some of the French girls by the stage, Dean very close behind.

Lavender, Parvati, Padma, Ron and Harry stood awkwardly, not sure how to make conversation with each other.

Parvati was the first to speak,"Oh my..." she looked at the stairs wistfully.

The other four followed her gaze. Hermione Granger was standing at the top of the stairs in a long, floaty periwinkle blue dress. She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy, but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot on the back of her head. She was holding herself differently somehow - or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back.

Padma sighed,"She looks..."

"Beautiful." Harry breathed.

As Hermione descended the stairs, everyone was silent, staring. Harry couldn't look away from her (not that he wanted to). It seemed she was having the same trouble with him. Harry felt a humongous lump rise in his throat that he could not force back down.

'Just friends', Harry repeated his own words in his head as Hermione reached the penultimate step, I've had three-and-a-half years of being 'just friends!' Maybe it was the Single Malt Whiskey talking, or maybe it was a thought that had been bottled up inside of Harry for years.

Hermione reached him with a nervous smile,"Harry?" She said softly.

"Wow..."

"Harry!"

"Wow..."

A/N: Hi guys! (Apparently, once you start doing A/Ns it gets really hard to stop, which is just great😒) All I want to say is that I am aware that Gabrielle Delacour is only 8 years old in the Goblet of Fire book, but I have changed it for reasons you probably won't see until Deathly Hallows and won't be able to have a well informed guess at until Half-Blood Prince. Well, that is all for now! I love you readers! Xxx