Infinite Magic (Male Reader x Harry Potter)

Who is Hermione Going With

Ron: Hermione, who are you going to the ball with?

He kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she least expected it.  However, Hermione merely frowned.

Hermione: I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me.

Draco: You're joking, Weasley!  You're not telling me someone's asked that to the ball?  Not the long molared Mudblood?

Harry, Ron, Suguru, and I all whipped around, but Hermione waved to somebody over Malfoy's shoulder.

Hermione: Hello, Professor Moody!

Malfoy went pale and jumped backward, looking wildly around for Moody, but he was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.

Hermione: Twitchy little ferret, aren't you, Malfoy?

We went up the marble staircase laughing heartily.

Ron: Hermione...your teeth...

Hermione: What about them?

Ron: Well, they're different... I've just noticed...

Hermione: Of course they are, did you expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave me?

Ava: No, he's right.  They're different to how they were before he put that hex on you... they're all straight and normal sized!

Hermione suddenly smiled very mischievously, and I noticed it too.  It was a very different smile from the one I remembered.

Hermione: Well, when I went up to Madam Pomfrey to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to how they normally were.  And I just... let her carry on a bit.

She smiled even more widely.

Hermione: Mum and Dad won't be too pleased.  I've been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces.  You know, they're dentists, they just don't think teeth and magic should- look!  Pigwidgeon's back!

Ron's tiny owl was twittering madly on the top of the icicle laden banisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg.  People passing him were pointing and laughing, and a group of third year girls paused and started saying how adorable he was.

Ron: Stupid little feathery git!

He hurried up the stairs and snatched up Pigwidgeon.

Ron: You bring letters to the addressee!  You don't hang around showing off!

Pigwidgeon hooted happily, his head protruding over Ron's fist.  The third year girls all looked very shocked.

Ron: Clear off!

He waved the fist holding Pigwidgeon at them, and the owl hooted more happily than ever as he soared through the air.

Ron: Here, take it, Harry.

The third year girls scuttled away looking scandalized.  He pulled Sirius's letter off Pigwidgeon's leg, Harry pocketed it, and we hurried back to Gryffindor Tower to read it.  Everyone in the common room was much too busy in letting off more holiday steam to observe what anyone else was up to.  My friends and I sat apart from everyone else by a dark window that was gradually filling up with snow, and Harry read out loud.

Harry: Dear Harry.  Congratulations to you and YN for getting past the dragons.  Whoever put your names in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now!  I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitis Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point-"

Hermione: That's what Krum did!

Harry: "But your ways were better, I'm impressed.  Don't get complacent, though.  You've only done one task.  Whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you two.  Keep your eyes open, particularly when the person we discussed is around, and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble.  Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual.  Sirius."

Harry: He sounds exactly like Moody

YN: Constant vigilance!  You'd think we walk around with our eyes shut...

Ron: YN, you're wearing a blindfold.

YN: Shut up, Ron.

Hermione: But he's right!  You've still got two tasks to do.  You really ought to have a look at that egg, you know, and start working out what it means-

Ron: Hermione, he's got ages!  Want a game of chess, Harry?

Harry: Yeah, okay.

He then noticed the look on Hermione's face.

Harry: Come on, how'm I supposed to concentrate with all this noise going on?  I won't even be able to hear the egg over this lot.

Hermione: Oh I suppose not.

I awoke on Christmas Day to Harry talking to someone, but I couldn't see them.  I sat up, and saw Dobby the house-elf at the foot of Harry's bed.

Dobby: Can Dobby give Harry Potter his present?

Harry: Course you can.  Er... I've got something for you too.

He quickly opened his trunk and pulled out a particularly ugly rolled-up pair of socks.  They were mustard yellow, and I'd rather die than wear them.

Harry: Sorry, I forgot to wrap them.

But Dobby was utterly delighted.

Dobby: Socks are Dobby's favorite, favorite clothes, sir!  I has seven now, sir.  But sir...

The others were up now too, confused as to why Dobby was here.  Dobby's eyes widened, having pulled the socks up to their highest extent, so that they reached to the bottom of his shorts.

Dobby: They has made a mistake in the shop, Harry Potter, they is giving you two the same!

Ron: Ah, no, Harry, how come you didn't spot that?

I had ripped into my own presents at this point, and started to tune out Harry and Dobby.  Lots of sweets, a large case of butterbeer, and my personal favorite, a framed picture of Ava and I that we'd taken over the summer.  We were both smiling and laughing in it.  We spent most of the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents, then returned to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch, which included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers.  We went out onto the grounds in the afternoon.  The snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle.  Hermione chose to watch our epic snowball fight rather than join in, and at five o'clock she and Ava said they were going back upstairs to get ready for the ball.

Ron: What, you need three hours?

Ron paid for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, hit him hard on the side of the head.

Ron: Who're you going with?  Hermione!

She just waved and the two girls disappeared up the stone steps into the castle.  There was no Christmas tea today, as the ball included a feast, so at seven o'clock, when it had become hard to aim properly, we abandoned our snowball fight and trooped back to the common room.  The Fat Lady was sitting in her frame with her friend Violet from downstairs, both of them extremely tipsy, empty boxes of chocolate liqueurs littering the bottom of her picture.

Fat Lady: Lairy fights, that's the one!

She giggled and swung forward to let us inside.  We changed into our dress robes up in our dormitory.  Apart from me, everyone looked self conscious.  But none looked as embarrassed as Ron, who surveyed himself in the long mirror in the corner with an appalled look on his face.  There was just no getting around the fact that his robes looked more like a dress than anything else.  In a desperate attempt to make them look more manly, he used a Severing Charm on the ruff and cuffs.  It worked fairly well.  At least he was now lace free, although he hadn't done a very neat job, and the edges still looked depressingly frayed as we set off downstairs.

Seamus: YN, how come you're not embarrassed?  We're all dying in these robes.

YN: What can I say?  I know how good I look.

Dean just huffed and pointed at Harry, Ron, and I.

Dean: I still can't work out how you three got the best looking girls in the year

Ron: Animal magnetism.