Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Still. If I did, what I'm writing on this website could very well be published in print for millions to read and enjoy. But alas, I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 60

"Ron, you understand the ball starts in twenty minutes, right?" Harry smirked as he pulled on the emerald green dress robes that Sirius had helped him purchase in Diagon Alley. "Are you going to be wearing a jumper and a pair of jeans or are you going to get dressed?" He glanced over his shoulder to see Ron was the only boy in the Gryffindor dormitory not donning his dress robes and prepping for the upcoming Yule Ball.

"I don't want to talk about it," Ron mumbled, throwing a death glare at his trunk. Harry raised his eyebrows and glanced at his roommates. Seamus and Dean looked equally befuddled by the redhead's miserable mood, but Neville was giving him a look of sympathy.

"He's upset about his dress robes," The clumsy Gryffindor explained, flinching as Ron redirected his scowl towards him. "He showed me them when I stayed at the Burrow after the World Cup. They're on the…traditional side."

"Traditional?" Ron shook his head in disgust as he pushed himself to his feet and wrenched his trunk open. "I have to wear a bloody dress!" He fumed, brandishing a maroon set of dress robes that did look suspiciously like a dress.

Harry, Dean, and Seamus all exchanged glances, and Harry was glad to see that he was not the only person who was struggling to contain his laughter.

"The lace looks…unique," Dean finally broke the awkward silence, his voice wavering from stifled snickers.

"The maroon really brings out your eyes," Seamus offered, biting his fist.

"You'll look quite fashionable," Harry nodded vigorously despite the fact that his lips were curving into a grin.

"I may be dense from time to time, but even I can tell you lot are full of shit," Ron groaned, throwing his head back and dejectedly tossing his robes onto his bed. "I can't believe I have to wear these in front of Katie."

"Still can't believe she said yes to you…" Seamus muttered under his breath.

"What are you implying?" Ron fired back irritably.

"I'm saying I can't believe your gangly arse –"

"Hey, hey," Harry appeased as Ron's ears turned pink. "We can't be putting Ron down. He needs every bit of confidence he can get…"

"Thank you, Harry."

"…especially considering he has to wear that mother of the bride getup –"

"Oh, piss off!" Ron huffed, grabbing one of his pillows and chucking it at the bespectacled wizard who roared with laughter. "Go get dressed up for Hermione, she'll probably hit you with a book or something if you're late."

Dean coughed into his hand, each outburst sounding suspiciously like "whipped", much to the amusement of Ron and Seamus. Harry rolled his eyes but laughed along with the rest of them, turning back to his mirror as he tried to tidy up his hair.

"Did you color coordinate with Hermione?" Neville asked sincerely as he adjusted his silver tie.

"She wouldn't tell me anything about her dress robes. She said she wants my reaction to be one of total surprise," Harry sighed at his messy black hair before smirking. "But I have an idea of what color she's wearing. What about you and Luna?"

"We are, but it's by coincidence. I just happened to mention that I'd be wearing a silver tie and she told me that her dress was silver too. First stroke of good luck I've had in a while, I reckon," Neville answered sheepishly. Harry – despite his world-renowned denseness – could tell that the round-faced boy was the most nervous out of all five boys.

"Don't be nervous, mate," Harry whispered, glancing over towards Neville's mirror and winking so that his roommate would see it in the reflection. "You got this."

"Thanks…" Neville practically squeaked. "And thanks again for introducing me to Luna. She's really nice."

"Yeah, when she's not talking about some bizarre creature she's probably one of the nicest people I know," Harry mused, straightening his jacket. "Besides you, of course," He threw Neville another wink, eliciting a blush and a grateful smile.

"Boys, I have a very important question," Dean began in a teasing manner, garnering the attention of his roommates. "Does Seamus fancy Lavender?"

"Oi!" The amateur pyromaniac threw a pillow at Dean. "Just because I'm taking her to the ball doesn't mean I fancy her. How would you like it if I went around asking everyone if you fancied Parvati?"

"Everyone knows Dean and Parv are going as friends," Ron chirped, looking pleased to not be on the receiving end of the ribbing. "But you've been looking pretty excited to dance with Lavender ever since you asked her."

"Of course I'm excited," Seamus waggled his eyebrows as he tied his dress shoes. "You know how I like blondes. And she's not far off from Susan Bones if you know what I mean."

"Gross…" Harry and Neville groaned in unison, the former rolling his eyes for good measure.

"Get off your high horse, Harry," Seamus turned to smirk at him. "There's a pool for how long it takes you and Hermione to sneak off and snog. Fred and George started it up the day the ball was announced."

"Wonderful. I love it when people use my love life to gamble."

"I bet twenty minutes in, just so you know," Dean piped up. "Don't let me down, your boy needs a new set of art quills from Scrivenshaft's."

"Duly noted," Harry said with obvious exasperation. "I'll see you idiots down there."

With that, he strolled out of the room and made his way down the stairs.

"Hi, Harry!" Lavender and Parvati greeted him in unison as he reached the common room; both girls were eagerly waiting in front of the stairs for their dates.

"Hey Lav, hey Parvati," He grinned. "You guys look great."

"Thanks, Harry!" Lavender giggled. "You look quite handsome yourself. I thought Hermione was going to be the surprise knockout but…" She let out a low whistle as she took in the sight of Harry in his dress robes.

"My eyes are up here," He drawled sarcastically, fidgeting slightly under the blonde's appraising gaze.

"Yeah, I think I'll be saying something similar to Seamus tonight," Lavender rolled her eyes before smiling again. "You and Hermione are going to knock everyone's socks off."

"She's still in the dormitory," Parvati added. "She's just putting the finishing touches on. I'd give it a couple minutes and then she'll make her grand entrance."

"Can't wait," Harry nodded, still grinning. "Dean and Seamus ought to be down soon, once they stop cracking jokes about Ron's dress robes."

"Something's wrong with Ron's dress robes?" Harry turned to see Katie Bell striding over, looking like her usual bubbly self in a scarlet dress that was almost the same color as her Gryffindor Quidditch robes.

"He's not abandoning the ball, don't worry. It's just…his robes are on the traditional side. He's taking his time to make them look salvageable." Katie raised her eyebrows. "I mean better!" He hastily corrected himself. "He's taking his time to make his dress robes look better."

Fortunately, the rest of the fourth-year boys chose that moment to come marching down the staircase. Neville slipped out of the portrait hole to meet Luna in the Great Hall. Seamus and Dean offered their arms to Lavender and Parvati, respectively. And much to Ron's delight, Katie was entirely unfazed by his lacey maroon dress robes and was more than happy to strut out of the common room with her arm linked in his. Harry watched them all depart with a smile on his face.

"They've all grown up, haven't they?" A familiar voice sighed contentedly from the staircase behind him. He turned around slowly, his smile widening. His eyes drifted up the marble steps until they landed on a girl, a girl so stunning his heart melted like a cloud in the silent summer heaven.

"H-hi, Her-Hermione," He stammered, his heart hammering against his ribcage. Hermione responded with a nervous smile, but Harry couldn't comprehend how she could be nervous. He was certain he had never seen her – or anyone – look so beautiful.

Her trademark bushy brown hair had been tamed with what must have been a generous amount of Sleakeazy's Hair Potion and was now twisted into an elegant knot above her head. A few errant curls had slipped from her hairdo and were framing her face, drawing his attention there. His heart leapt as he realized she was wearing makeup. She hadn't coated herself in it, and he was relieved to see that even from a distance he could see the adorable freckles that lined her nose, but it was just enough makeup to make her skin look more radiant than Harry could ever remember.

He managed to pry his eyes away from her hair and face to take in her dress robes. She was wearing an elegant gown that almost floated around her, giving the impression that the dress itself had been weaved out of clouds. Clouds of a certain color that held a special place in Harry's heart.

"Periwinkle," Harry whispered, grinning. "I knew it was going to be periwinkle."

"And I thought I was going to surprise you," Hermione blushed, descending the rest of the steps. Her heeled shoes met the common room carpet, and Harry managed to snap out of his daze to walk over to her. "How do I look?" She whispered, bashfully biting her lip.

"Wow," He whispered. Hermione ducked her head in response, to which Harry hesitantly placed an index finger under her chin and lifted so that she would meet his eyes. "You look beautiful, Hermione."

"Thanks, Harry," She blushed. "You look rather handsome, yourself."

"I don't know about that. My hair is a mess," He smirked.

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Not true, you'd rather it was a mess because you ran your hands through it, wouldn't you?"

"Control yourself, Harry Potter," Hermione fired back, her eyes twinkling. Before Harry could offer another cheeky remark, Hermione held out her hand to show that she was holding something. His eyes drifted down to what was lying in her open palm and his jaw dropped.

"You still have it?" He asked, stunned.

"Preservation Charms can come in quite handy," She whispered, her cheeks still tinged pink. "Would you mind?"

Harry nodded and wordlessly grabbed the flower that she had been holding, a small blue flower that matched her robes perfectly. It was the same periwinkle he had given her when she was lying petrified in the Hospital Wing nearly two years earlier, and it looked just as lovely as it had the day he had taken it from the Herbology greenhouses. Tentatively, he tucked the flower behind her left ear, his fingers drifting down to graze her cheek as he let his hand fall back to his side. She fluttered her eyes closed at the touch but quickly composed herself, smiling at him once again.

He held out his arm and she eagerly looped hers with it. After a quick peck on the lips that had Harry's veins coursing with excitement, they strolled out of the common room with giddy smiles.

Harry's inner Marauder was telling him that the dumbstruck stares and the looks of unflattering disbelief being shot in his direction were because his peers had never seen him look so dashing. But he knew better. He knew, as he and Hermione walked arm-in-arm down the length of the Great Hall along with the rest of the champions, that those around them were finally realizing what he had been able to pick up on much earlier. Hermione Granger was truly, truly beautiful.

When they reached the Head Table, Harry made a point of ignoring Percy Weasley's attempts to get him to sit next to him and placed his jacket on the back of the chair next to Cedric's. After pulling out Hermione's chair for her, he slipped into his seat and waved hello to his fellow champion and his date, Cho Chang.

"You excited for this?" Cedric asked.

"Super," Harry smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Cedric threw his head back and laughed before leaning in again.

"Listen, I was going to tell you later, but apparently there's a bet going around about you and Hermione making an early exit – "

"Oh, god…" Harry rolled his eyes, glancing at his knife and wondering if it would be frowned upon to stab the Weasley twins in the middle of dinner.

"Anyway," Cedric continued, smiling wryly, "I feel like I owe you for the dragons."

"Don't mention it," Harry waved him off. "Seriously, don't mention it. To anyone."

"Don't worry," The Hufflepuff reassured him. "Have you figured out the egg yet?" Harry shook his head. "Take a bath with it."

"Sorry, I must have something in my ear," Harry scratched his head, his eyebrows shooting towards the ceiling. "I think I just heard you tell me to take a bath with an egg that screams."

"No, just…" Cedric sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know it sounds weird. But mull things over in the water, will you?"

"Alright," Harry nodded awkwardly. "Thanks."

Harry hoped that his fellow champion had given him something to be thankful for and turned back to his date. Mercifully, Hermione had seemed to sense that his conversation with Cedric had needed privacy and was eagerly discussing Arithmancy with Beatrice Haywood, Viktor Krum's date. She was a Hufflepuff seventh-year that Harry had seen in the library many times, and she looked nothing short of delighted to be sitting next to the international Quidditch phenom.

Further down the table, Dumbledore picked up his menu and placed his order. Instantly, his meal materialized on his previously empty plate and he began to dig in. Nervously, Harry turned to Hermione to see how she felt about the extra effort on the part of the house-elves. She met his eye and waved him off, silently stating that she was willing to enjoy the night rather than campaign for the rights of magical creatures. He didn't miss the grateful smile she flashed him for thinking of the elves, though.

Noticing his stomach was a bit jumpy ahead of the impending opening dance, Harry opted for a lighter meal and ordered a salad. Just as he picked up his fork, an identical one darted out from his right side and impaled a few pieces of lettuce. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the fork was gone, leaving a speechless Harry to stare at his salad dejectedly.

"You're unbelievable," He whispered, turning to raise his eyebrows at Hermione. She giggled to herself before swallowing and flashing him a coy smile.

"What if I was making sure it wasn't poisoned?"

"That would be very considerate of you," Harry conceded, "but I know that you were just capitalizing on your little Girlfriend Tax."

"Ooh, what's the Girlfriend Tax?" Cho Chang suddenly leaned around Cedric to ask Hermione. Harry and Cedric exchanged dejected looks.

"The Girlfriend Tax is something Hermione made up to steal from me," Harry sighed before a sharp elbow collided with his ribs. "Ow! Alright, she didn't make it up. She got it from a girly Muggle magazine. Essentially, she gets to have some of my food because I love her." He turned to Hermione, who beamed at him.

"Interesting…" Cho mused.

"Sounds rough," Cedric chuckled, giving Harry a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. He glanced back at his plate only to freeze upon seeing that his dish was missing several pieces of asparagus. "Hey!" He snapped his head towards Cho, who smiled innocently before swallowing.

"Say goodbye to a full plate of anything around Cho," Harry shook his head in amusement at the display. "At least you don't eat all your meals in the Great Hall with her. I have to deal with this thief three times a day."

"I'm not a thief!" Hermione protested, leaning into his side and giggling. Harry rolled his eyes before throwing her a playful elbow and finally digging into his salad.

After they had all finished their meals, it was announced that the champions were to open the ball. Nervously, Harry stood and threw his jacket back over his shoulders before helping Hermione to her feet. He blushed as she straightened his waistcoat for him before she took his hand and led them to their spot on the dance floor.

"I can hear your heart racing, Harry," She whispered as they walked. "It's just like we practiced, don't worry."

"Right," He nodded. "But there weren't two hundred people watching when we practiced…" He muttered under his breath. Hermione squeezed his hand and turned to face him once they reached their spot on the floor. She flashed him a dazzling smile, and almost as if by magic, every bit of nervousness in his body disappeared without a trace. He took his free hand and placed it on her waist while she placed hers on his shoulder.

The music began, and Harry began to move in tune with the melody. He was pleasantly surprised by his lack of mistakes and slip-ups. He was a far cry from the klutz he had been in his first lesson, constantly treading on Hermione's feet and inadvertently kicking her in the shins every ten seconds. Now, he was practically gliding around the dance floor along with a girl dancing just as well as him.

"How can you even do this in heels?" Harry asked as she flawlessly moved about. Hermione responded with a subtle shrug as she twirled before stepping back into his arms, her face still lit up by her smile. "Perfection…" He found himself saying under his breath, to which she blushed.

"You've gotten much better," She encouraged him as they continued with their dance.

"I had a good teacher," He grinned. "The best, actually."

Her blush deepened and he stepped back, allowing Hermione to spin once more. As the music began to wind down, Harry felt his lips curl into a mischievous grin as he readied himself for the final move. Hermione twirled one last time before wrapping an arm around his shoulders, her hand resting on the back of his neck. Grinning, Harry slipped his arm around her waist and gently lowered her into a dip until her back was nearly parallel to the floor. With a flourish that would have made his melodramatic Marauder of a godfather proud, he brandished his arms towards the enchanted ceiling above them and winked at Hermione.

"Milady."

"Milord," She blushed from below him. Deafening applause rang out across the Great Hall, and Harry pulled Hermione back upright, keeping his arm around her waist. "You've become quite the dancer," She whispered, her voice barely discernable over the hubbub. "I quite enjoyed that waltz. Thank you."

"Do you think we can top it?" Harry grinned as the Weird Sisters began to play another song, this one more reminiscent of the twentieth century. It was slow enough to warrant a slow dance rather than a mosh pit, and Harry decided to snake his other arm around her. "Care to dance?"

"I'd love to," She smiled shyly before bringing her arms around his neck and swaying in tune with the music. Several other wizards and witches began pouring out onto the dance floor, and Harry barely managed to pry his eyes away from Hermione's to watch his friends begin their own dances.

Katie and Ron were dancing together, but they appeared to be too engrossed in an animated conversation to care that the redhead was butchering his moves while he rambled about what Harry could only assume was Quidditch. Mercifully, Katie seemed equally interested in discussing the sport, considering she was a Chaser and all.

Harry caught Lavender's eye as she danced with Seamus, and she pointed to her watch and pouted. He realized that she had probably missed her window to win Fred and George's pool and shrugged innocently before scanning the rest of the floor.

Dean and Parvati had shared a quick opening dance before meandering about the dance floor in search of other partners. When Harry finally caught sight of Dean, the aspiring artist was dancing surprisingly well with a girl from Beauxbatons while Parvati swayed slowly with Eddie Carmichael, a fifth-year Ravenclaw.

"Quite the social butterflies, those two," Hermione mused, clearly following Harry's gaze. He nodded in agreement before scanning the rest of the dance floor. Just beyond Parvati were Neville and Luna, who were putting on quite the show with their impressive dancing skills.

"That was a good call, you know," Harry whispered to Hermione as Neville continued to dance without a single blunder. "Introducing Neville to Luna."

"I just thought that they both could have used a new friend," Hermione smiled as she watched the two of them continue to prance. "Neville dances almost as well as you do."

"Yeah, he's been telling us how glad he is that his grandmother made him take lessons when he was younger," Harry explained with a smile of his own. "Dean and I walked in on him dancing by himself in the dormitory the other day. If you hadn't offered to teach me to waltz, I probably would have asked him."

Hermione snorted loud enough to draw some curious stares from the nearest couples. Harry arched an eyebrow at her, to which she just laughed harder.

"Honestly, Harry, did you expect me not to laugh when you conjured the image of you and Neville dancing together in my head?"

"I'll have you know that Neville would be the perfect gentleman about it, and –"

"So, you're saying you'd be the lady in that situation? What color dress would you –"

"Oh, be quiet," Harry rolled his eyes, eliciting even more amusement from Hermione. She threw her head back and laughed away for a few seconds before leaning forward and resting her cheek on Harry's shoulder, still tittering to herself.

"I like this," She whispered, sighing contentedly into the crook of his neck once she managed to subdue her laughter.

"Me too," Harry smiled to himself as Hermione's hair began to tickle his cheek as she nestled against his shoulder. He laced his fingers together and rested his hands on the small of Hermione's back, his smile widening as Hermione let out a pleased exhale. They stayed like that for a long time, and Harry could tell she was just as happy to remain in that position as he was.

The ball continued into the night, and eventually the Weird Sisters abandoned the slower songs in favor of their more popular tunes. Soon, the dance floor was full of rowdy students and slow dances were abandoned in favor of quasi mosh pits and up-close-and-personal dancing from the older students that was sure to appall the likes of Minerva McGonagall. Harry caught sight of Fred and George grinding with Angelina and Alicia respectively and winced, vowing to himself not to be that gross with Hermione.

Instead of following their example, he glanced at Hermione and she nodded quickly, slipping her hand into his and motioning towards the exit. After squeezing through the throng of people and edging around the dance floor they reached the entrance hall, which was nearly empty in comparison to the packed Great-Hall-turned-ballroom behind them. They strolled through the open front doors to the grounds, where a lengthy enchanted garden had been erected for the ball. Row after row of beautiful flowers lined the lawn, no doubt kept alive by the Heating Charms that had been cast throughout the area. Fairy lights flickered and twinkled from overhead and illuminated the crisscrossing gravel paths dotted with benches and statues. Eventually, the paths all culminated in a magnificent stone fountain where the winding paths converged.

"It's beautiful," Hermione observed. "Why can't it always be this beautiful?"

"I guess they want you to appreciate how beautiful it can be," Harry shrugged as they began to meander down one of the many paths. "But it always is beautiful, right? I mean, it might not be jaw-dropping gorgeous all the time out here, true. Maybe when it's all dolled up like this it catches your eye more than it usually does, but the grounds have always been beautiful. At least to me."

Hermione didn't say anything for a few moments. Then, she squeezed his hand, and Harry glanced over to see that she was blushing.

"You're sweet," She mumbled, smiling shyly as she turned to him. Harry offered an uncertain smile in response, surprised that she was so flattered on behalf of the Hogwarts grounds. After he shrugged it off internally, they resumed their tranquil stroll, the only sounds being the crunching of gravel beneath their feet and the gurgling of the fountain behind them.

They passed a patch of rosebushes and froze when they heard noises that sounded suspiciously like moans emanating from it. Harry glanced over and caught sight of a billowing mane of silvery-blonde hair and knew that it was Fleur Delacour, presumably with Roger Davies. Grimacing as the sounds grew louder, he tugged on Hermione's hand and sped up, not wanting to be caught spying by either one of them.

Eventually, they agreed to camp out on a quiet stone bench far from the likes of Fleur and Roger. Hermione promptly rested her head on Harry's shoulder the moment they sat down and let out a blissful sigh. Harry smiled at the sound, shifting to make himself comfortable.

Despite the added warmth of the Heating Charms, Harry felt Hermione shiver slightly after a few minutes. Immediately, he removed the outermost layer of his emerald dress robes and draped it around his date's shoulders.

"You didn't have to do that," She huffed sarcastically despite the fact that she was pulling the jacket tightly around herself. He responded with a shrug and a nervous smile. "Thanks, Harry. You really are sweet, you know."

"So I've been told," He grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly before returning her head to his shoulder. "So those robes are why you took forever in Madame Malkin's?" He asked, referring to the trip he, Hermione, Sirius, and Tonks had made to Diagon Alley following the Quidditch World Cup.

"Perhaps," She blushed.

"Sorry I complained about you spending ages in there. It was worth it," Harry smirked, earning a half-hearted elbow to the ribs from his girlfriend.

"I almost didn't want to get them, because I thought they'd be too over-the-top," She mused. "But Tonks insisted. Once she stopped gaping like a fish, she started blathering about how I looked like a princess and I just had to get them." She suddenly lifted her head and flashed Harry a wicked smile. "And she may have mentioned something about making your jaw drop."

"Mission accomplished," Harry said unabashedly, to which Hermione blushed again. "You really do look stunning tonight. Thank you for letting me attend the ball with the prettiest girl at Hogwarts."

"Shut up," She mumbled bashfully. "Don't act like you look horrid. I saw plenty of girls giving dirty looks about not getting to go with you."

"I think they were just jealous of how much prettier you are, actually."

"You're incorrigible."

"Oh, as if you aren't stubborn about everything."

"I'm not always stubborn," Hermione fired back.

"Yeah, you are."

"No, I'm not!"

"I rest my case," Harry grinned triumphantly, smugly leaning back into the bench and lacing his fingers behind his head.

"I…" Hermione trailed off feebly, narrowing her eyes. "Unbelievable," She huffed, but she couldn't hide the amusement that danced in her eyes. Harry just shook his head and laughed. They sat in a relaxed silence, Harry crossing his right ankle over his left knee with his right arm wrapped around Hermione, who had once again laid her head on his shoulder. Harry planted a gentle kiss on the crown of her head and she purred in response, nuzzling her head into him as she smiled.

Harry didn't know how long they sat there, the silence only broken by the distant fountain. He occasionally heard voices filter from the many paths and patches of rosebushes, but he made a point of tuning them out in favor of enjoying the moment. At one point, Madame Maxine came storming past them, but the head of Beauxbatons didn't even spare them a second glance. A few minutes later, Igor Karkaroff did the same, but he looked too agitated to notice the two teenagers perched on the bench.

Before Harry knew it, the clock had struck midnight, signaling the end of the Yule Ball. He sat bolt upright, surprised at how quickly the last hour of the ball had gone by since he and Hermione had slipped into the gardens. He turned to his date, who offered a warm smile as she nestled into his jacket even more.

"I suppose we should head back inside," She said shyly.

"I suppose," Harry nodded back before his stomach rumbled audibly. "Probably should have eaten something besides that tiny salad," He chuckled to himself. "I suppose it didn't help that you stole some of it."

"It's not stealing!"

"I'm starting to see why America started a whole bloody war over taxes…" Harry sighed, earning a swat on the arm from Hermione. "Do you suppose there'll be any food left in the Great Hall?"

"Probably not…" She admitted, but her eyes were twinkling. "But I know a place that does have food at this hour."

"Oh?"

"Come with me," She grinned, pushing herself to her feet, and holding out her hand. Harry took it and let her yank him up to his feet before they strolled through the gardens, back down the path that they had originally taken until they were marching through the front doors into the entrance hall. Instead of entering the Great Hall, Hermione tugged him towards the central staircase before taking a sharp left down a nearby passage. It wasn't until they reached a brightly lit corridor filled with paintings of food that Harry realized where they were going.

They reached a still-life of a bowl of fruit and Hermione quickly tickled the green pear in the painting, and it subsequently transformed into a green door handle. Quickly, Hermione wrenched the door open and led Harry inside into the Hogwarts culinary facilities.

Harry hadn't been in the cavernous kitchens since Hermione had dragged him down one day to meet Dobby, but he remembered it well enough. The enormous ceilings, endless counters, and at least a hundred house-elves roaming about were still there. A familiar one of those elves came bounding over to the pair of teenagers.

"Harry Potter, sir! And his Miss!" Dobby squeaked as he quickly hugged both Harry and Hermione's legs. "What is Harry Potter and his Miss doing here so late?" He asked, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Well, Dobby," Harry grinned, squeezing Hermione's hand. "My Miss and I didn't quite get enough food at the ball, and – "

"Say no more!" Dobby gave them a toothy grin and bowed low enough for his long nose to brush the tiled floor. "Dobby will prepare a most scrumptious meal!"

With that, he dashed off to the other end of the kitchens.

"So, I'm your Miss?" Hermione teased.

"I'm humoring him," Harry explained with a shrug. "But don't act like you don't turn into a puddle whenever I call you my girl."

"I don't…oh, never mind," Hermione rolled her eyes. She quickly dragged Harry over to the nearest row of counters, where no elves seemed to be working. Wordlessly, she turned and hopped onto the countertop, bundling the bottom portion of her dress below her and pulling herself up so she was sitting cross-legged on the granite surface. Flashing Harry a cheeky smile, she patted the space on the counter in front of her. With a smile of his own, he followed her example and sat across from her on the counter, crossing his own legs.

"Did I ever show you the movie Sixteen Candles?" Hermione asked, shedding Harry's emerald jacket now that she was out of the December cold. Harry felt similarly warm and began rolling the sleeves of his white button-down up to his elbows.

"Don't think so," Harry shook his head. "Why?"

"Oh, it's not important," Hermione waved him off.

Suddenly, Dobby appeared with a pop next to them and placed several plates of mouth-watering food in between them on the counter. Between the platters of Beef Wellington, mashed potatoes, sliced baguette, and two enormous slices of pumpkin pie, it looked like Dobby had brought an entire restaurant's worth of food.

"Where's Ron when we need him?" Harry smirked. "Thanks, Dobby. This looks amazing."

"Anything for Harry Potter and his Miss!" The elf beamed.

"Happy Christmas, Dobby," Hermione smiled. Harry echoed the statement, and Dobby looked close to tears before he bowed and returned to his other elfish duties. "I'm so glad he's getting paid. He deserves it," Hermione said as she picked up her fork.

"He's the best," Harry nodded in agreement as he lifted one of the two tumblers of pumpkin juice that had been provided. Hermione clinked her own glass against his and beamed at him. "I know it's past midnight, but Happy Christmas, Hermione."

"Happy Christmas, Harry," She said softly.

The midnight-snack-turned-feast was nothing short of delectable. It didn't take long for them to annihilate everything that had been provided, as well as make good use of the magically refilling glasses of pumpkin juice.

"I had a really good time tonight, Harry," Hermione finally said as she polished off the last of her slice of pie. "Especially this," She gestured to the two of them sitting on the counter and leisurely enjoying their impromptu meal. "It feels like us. Nice and quiet, enjoying ourselves."

"I agree," Harry grinned, sipping his drink. "Thank you, Hermione. And thank you for being so beautiful that everyone was staring at something besides this," he pointed to his forehead, "for once."

"Oh, stop it," She blushed, averting her eyes as her lips twitched into a small smile.

"Do you think we should head up soon? It's really late, and the later we're out the more trouble we'll be in if we're caught."

"Since when do you care about breaking rules?"

"I care about you breaking rules," He corrected her, smirking. "We can't have Hermione Granger, the belle of the ball and future Head Girl, getting in trouble for something as trivial as being out past curfew. Should we head up?"

"I…I suppose…" Hermione trailed off, biting her lip. Harry cocked his head in concern and her blush deepened. "Sorry, it's just, I need a few more minutes. I've never worn heels for this long and my feet are killing me. I don't even know if I can stand, much less walk up seven flights of stairs."

Harry nodded in sympathy before he suddenly perked up excitedly. "I can carry you!" He rubbed his hands together eagerly.

"What?" She asked, stiffening. "Harry, no, I can't ask you to do that."

"Then don't," He said plainly, slipping off the counter. His shoes silently hit the stone floor below and he stood next to Hermione, grinning. "Come on, up you go."

"Harry…"

"Any day now, Hermione."

"Fine," She relented, unable to hide her giddy smile as Harry snaked his arms around her and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

"That's my girl," He murmured against her skin, feeling a swooping sensation in his stomach as she let out a soft sigh and burrowed her head into his shoulder. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around her back, just below her shoulder blades, while curling the other around her thighs. He let her grab his jacket off the counter and drape it over herself like a blanket before he lifted her up into a bridal carry position.

"Are you ready?" He asked as Hermione wrapped an arm around his neck and nestled into him, her head gently resting against his shoulder.

"You better hold onto me," She mumbled, smiling to herself.

A/N: Hi, everyone! I want to thank everyone who reached out and sent me their best following my last A/N. I won't lie and say that I'm completely healed because of everything you guys said, but it certainly helped and I'm definitely better than I was about a week ago, so thanks.

A few references: "Melted like a cloud in the silent summer heaven" hails from The Revenge by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, one of my favorite poets ever. Believe it or not, I don't exclusively get inspired by Aaron Sorkin and Marvel movies. Also, Sixteen Candles, if you've seen the scene, you know. If not, just look up "Sixteen Candles cake scene" on Google Images or something and you'll understand pretty quickly why Hermione chose that moment to bring the movie up. Additionally, Pumpkin Pie for dessert was just a tribute to Harmony in general. I wasn't even old enough to know about that fic's existence until years after it had been published and the name Pumpkin Pie itself had faltered in popularity, but I figured it was such a staple of Harmony lore that it was worth paying tribute. Lastly, the whole "Milady" "Milord" also was inspired by the show Community.

Also, I didn't think I would need to say this, but alas – please do not take the rest of the Gryffindor Gang pairings for the ball as clues for future secondary pairings. Just…don't. A weirdly high number of people have been messaging me, demanding to know if Ron will marry Katie Bell or Lavender, or if Neville will get with Luna, etc. It's just weird to see all of those, especially when the senders threaten to drop a story if a certain secondary pairing doesn't happen. Like, just go read fanfics of that pair instead of Harmony fics in hopes of seeing your ship come up. Don't badger me into making a specific couple happen. Please.