Unbroken

Wednesday Night , Week 2

Lyla POV

My plans for Boss to take me to the ball ended up in flames partly due to him being hurt and partly because I now know the secret that no one else knows. I would feel like less of a woman if I let myself be paraded around by Boss knowing full well that Hermione Weasley was in love with him and he, her. It was easy to figure out why Boss was 'eternally single', as he declared himself, and it was because he loved Hermione Weasley.

I don't know how I went so long without seeing the obvious signs of his affection but they were all there. He would get this faraway look in his eye whenever her name would be mentioned, he would smile wistfully at that picture he keeps in his battle robes' breast pocket, and he'd never miss a Sunday dinner knowing she was there. The signs were all there and it sounds irrational but I can feel it. I know I'm not wrong about them.

Even amongst our team discussions, the rest of them agreed that Boss had only one blind spot. It doesn't take a genius, or The Brightest Witch of Her Age for that matter, to know what that blind spot is. He's never really seen straight when it comes to her and this case, this Dolohov case, is proof of that.

So, knowing all of this, I was left with one decision: to find someone else to bring me to The Ball. It was easy enough but I still had to make sure that the lucky guy who took me understood that I wasn't looking for anything serious. Eventually, I found a man by the name of Holland Grant who was all too willing to escort me. He was a standard looking man with brown hair, blue eyes, and a bit of a beard. He looked unassuming enough and was the first man who made eye contact with me instead of looking at my breasts or wide hips.

"Lyl—Miss Roberts, are you ready to go?" Shit! That's him, I've gotten so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize the time read 6pm.

"I'll be right down, Holland," I say in an enthusiastic voice because I know he sounds nervous.

With the last of my earrings put on, I hurry down the stairs to join my date and smirk at him when his eyes widen to the eyes of saucers. He looks cute like that and I know my gown has done its job, not that it needed to do much anyway. It's a bubblegum pink gown with a high neckline and a slim waist with frills on the bottom of it. I'm nothing if not practical as well because the gown has a slit running up my left leg where my wand is holstered against my thigh. Just in case, of course.

"You look err..." the poor guy is at a loss for words. I feel his pain, I do have that effect on people.

"Beautiful? Gorgeous? Magnificent? Wonderful?" I ask him playfully and he lets out a throaty chuckle.

"There are not enough words in the dictionary for you," he tells me smoothly. Hmm, this one's a smooth talker.

"Smooth," I compliment him before he offers his hand.

I gracefully take it and let him kiss the knuckles and then loop my arm around his as we step towards the fireplace.

Hermione POV

The immediate thought I have as I step onto the ballroom with Ronald is that I don't want to be here. I knew by coming that my mind would always be back at St. Mungos with Harry. My brain is empty save for my worry for my best friend and the morbid hope that he doesn't wake up without me there to see him first. There hasn't been a time, to my knowledge, where he's woken up after being hurt and I wasn't there to see him first.

Ron's arm is hooked around mine and I scan the room for the rest of Harry's team, wondering if they had the will to attend as well, before coming across Lyla on the arm of some random man. She looks beautiful and, I hate to say it, I can see why Harry was...engaging in such acts with her. A raging jealousy fills me because she...knows Harry like this but I fight it back. After all, she's just a friend with benefits. I meet her eyes and she smiles warmly at me, forcing me to do the same to her even though her relationship with Harry aggravates me.