The Gloriana Set

Gryffindor Party, Part I

"No." Ginny pulled yet another dress out of Hermione's wardrobe. "No ... no ... no ... definitely no." She held up the dress from Bill and Fleur's wedding. "Maybe."

"No," Hermione said from her position at the windowsill. Ginny had dragged her straight up to the dorm after breakfast on Saturday to look at suitable party clothes.

Ginny eyed the dress, head tilted. "We could lop off the sleeves, change the color, lower the neckline ... nah, you're right. Wait a minute ..." She tossed the dress aside and held up a red skirt.

"This will do," she said, shortening the hem with a wave of her wand. "I have a great top for this ... one second." Ginny pulled out a dull gold halter top. "Perfect." She looked at Hermione mischievously. "For your date tonight."

Hermione shook her head. "It's not a date, and if I show up in that, it will look like a date, and I'm having enough trouble with Ron."

Ginny laughed. "You could show up in a Weasley sweater and he'd think it's a date. My brother, he's a bit thick. And what about the party? You want all those glossy Slytherins outshining you?"

Looking out the window over the Quidditch pitch, Hermione considered this. She really didn't.

"Oh," Ginny said, pulling out another dress, "and look at what I'll be wearing." Hermione blinked. The gauzy material in Ginny's hand was a shocking green. "We have to be welcoming to our guests, don't we?" Ginny went on, holding the wisp of cloth to herself in the mirror.

"You are certainly embracing inter-House unity," Hermione said.

"I'm considering it," Ginny answered wickedly.

"Ron will hate it."

"Another plus," Ginny said, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh with her.

Hermione spent the rest of the day in the library, not even going to the Great Hall for dinner, since she'd be dining later with Ron. She almost lost track of time reading Potion Failures and Fatalities Through the Ages. Fascinating. Who knew that a person could be sucked into a potion like that? Maybe Slughorn would let her develop some ideas after school. The Fiducia had whetted her appetite; she even toyed with the idea of asking Malfoy to assist, but no, that wouldn't do. He'd just try to take over. Bossy people were so annoying.

Returning to her dormitory, Hermione walked into total chaos. Lavender had spotted Ginny's dress hanging from the wardrobe door and hit the roof, since she'd planned to wear green herself to entice a certain hard-to-get Slytherin. Ginny refused to change her plans, contending that it would take more than Slytherin colors to bag a Malfoy.

"Face it Lav," Ginny lectured, pointing an empty hanger at her roommate, "and I say this as a friend: Malfoy has always had a very specific type—slutty, gorgeous, rich, pureblood bitch—and just because none of them will talk to him right now doesn't mean he'll take up with a Gryffindor. He might be down, but he'll come up on top, people like that always do. Give it a year, and Astoria will be begging for an invite to the manor."

"I don't want to marry him, Ginny," Lavender whined. "He's just so handsome ..."

"What, you want to sneak around castle corners with him?" Ginny asked. "Because that's all you'll get—at most. Sounds pretty bleak to me."

It sounded pretty bleak to Hermione, too. She didn't say a word, just dropped off her books and left to take a shower to avoid hearing any more. Leave it to Ginny to sum up everything unsuitable about Malfoy in a few trenchant sentences. The redhead's years of pining after Harry had left her with a very cynical view of men.

Still, Malfoy did kind of defy easy analysis. And Lavender knew a little about men, too. Something about Malfoy was reeling her in. Hermione considered this as she combed detangling solution through her hair. He didn't appear interested, but really, his personality was such a Russian nesting doll. Who knew what the man really thought?