Anyone But Me

Chapter Two

"Help me!" Hermione whispered into Ginny's ear just as the witch realized someone was leaning over her shoulder. She had been seated cross legged, leaning over a scroll and practicing the Inimicum Charm when Hermione had snuck up on her.

"What? What's wrong?" Ginny whispered back. The other girl's bright caramel colored eyes took in the tense set of Hermione's shoulders but the realization that it wasn't anything catastrophic caused her own to visibly relax.

"I.... I.... Ummmm....." Hermione stammered, almost chickening out. Ginny gave her the time she needed to collect her thoughts. Something she had always appreciated about the girl. While Ron and Harry would badger, Ginny could sit back and wait until she was ready.

She was afraid that Ginny would laugh her request off. Why should she be any different than anyone else at Hogwarts? Would she believe that Hermione had the guts to actually go through with it?

No! Ginny was always surprising her. If there was one thing Hermione knew, it was that she could trust Ginerva Weasley. She was the only person on this planet that Hermione could fully confide in. She knew of Ginny's crush on Harry and Ginny knew of hers on Ron. Granted she hadn't understood the attraction to her older brother and if Hermione was honest with herself; she didn't either. Especially with the way he treated her sometimes... Like earlier, saying something hurtful and not even realizing how badly it would bruise. Additionally, the whole Lavender thing had driven the wedge further between them causing so much damage she wasn't sure it could ever be fully repaired.

She squared her shoulders and quickly rushed out with it...

"I need your help. Obviously... Help with Operation Dazzle."

A huge smile crossed the red head's glossed lips and an impish gleam showed in her eye as she jumped up from the bed with a new found enthusiasm.

"It's about damn time!"

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Her tongue felt like sandpaper rubbing against the top of her mouth. She'd really done it this time. She had not thought this through! Why hadn't Ginny stopped her instead of giddily sending her on her way?!?!

Damn that blasted girl!

Hermione heard some muffled laughter farther down the hall. She hesitated, she couldn't stand there much longer. It was time to either summon her Gryffindor courage or run back to her bed. Were Harry and Ron right about her or...? The thought of them caused her nerves to jump into overdrive. She couldn't go running back to the common room. Especially not dressed the way she was. If they were not already up there, someone else was bound to tell them, and then they would know the horrible truth of the matter. She really was a chicken. Not the badass lioness she neurotically dreamt herself to be.

She took a deep breath allowing her lungs to slowly expand before she reached up to adjust one of the loose curls that had fallen from her updo. Thank the lucky stars that Cassius had decided to have a clichéd theme. A Masquerade Ball. No one would know if she made an absolute fool of herself, the mask currently situated on her face was supposed to guarantee that.

She still wasn't one hundred percent sold on the outfit Ginny had magicked up for her. The girl hadn't been very happy with her when she had told her as much, but beggars couldn't be choosers. So there she was; standing around and shivering in a dark, cold, dingy corridor deep in the castle basements. On the brink of walking into an abandoned classroom in a dress her Mother would imply made her look like a "fallen woman". Fallen Woman or not she needed to do this.

She had to prove she wasn't just a Good Girl Prefect who could never do any wrong. She was just like every other seventeen year old. Deep down she craved the same things her peers did. Things that she rarely admitted, even to herself. Like love, irresponsibility and most of all... Acceptance. She wanted to be let in on the jokes instead of always feeling like they were being made about her.

Hermione could not remember a time when she hadn't been the butt of the joke. From a young age, she had been endlessly tormented over things she could not control... Her parentage, her intelligence, her hair, her teeth, her skin color, sometimes even her choice in clothing. And things that she could control like her smugness when she was right, the way she smothered her friends and how she was always one of the first students with their hand in the air...

Oh yes, she was able to admit that she brought some of it on herself. She could never refute that. When had she ever shown anything but disdain for the parties they never gotten invited to? Using her own anger at the repeated rebuffs as armor, Hermione had succeeded too well at convincing her friends that they shouldn't care. It was, after all, just drunken idiocy that would ultimately lead to severe consequences. But to be disregarded by so many in the school, including her closest friends! It would never stop hurting.

Tonight she was going to prove she could be brave without someone there to hold her hand. She did not need Harry or Ron to be there in case something went wrong. She really was the things people said about her. Smart, clever, beautiful and daring! Just like Ginny told her in the pep talk before sending her out the door with a naughty wink and flirtatious "Have fun!"

She knew that she looked just as good as she did at the Yule Ball. If not better... Depending on what your definition of "better" was... This time it had nothing to do with propriety. Under Ginny's hands, Hermione had been transformed from the figurative ugly duckling into the classic sexy seductress.

A literal gasp had been wrung from her when she was finally allowed to look at herself in the mirror. The dress was a deep jett black. Its top was made of velvet, long sleeved and hugged tightly to every single one of her curves. The front was modest in coverage. The single demand from her. She preferred to keep her tops on the modest side since she had been hit with that curse in the Ministry. As a constant reminder of the fear and death that night, she did everything she could to keep the scar covered. Even with her collarbone covered, the way the material clung to her body left little to the imagination. A deep V cutout in the back plunged down making up for the illusioned discretion in the front, almost to an indecent degree, the top of her buttocks was nearly revealed but not quite... Tulle flowed out at her hips in a gradual cascade that brushed the floor allowing stolen peaks at the borrowed glittery heels that adorned her feet.

Ginny had managed to charm her curls into submission with a spell Hermione had to remember for future use. The messy top knot hairstyle allowed for the stray curls that refused to obey to add to the look instead of detract. Her make up was more on the subdued side. Natural but enhancing.

The whole look was a calculated move on Ginny's part. While calling attention to her better assets, it allowed for the mask to be the center of attention. It was the only piece that Hermione had added to the look. Her Father had bought it for her on one of their famous family vacations. On the smaller side, the bottom outlined her cheekbones and wrapped up, meeting at the bridge of her nose. The top went directly across the middle of her forehead and the two ends met her hair on a soft curve near her temples. Midnight blue satin caused her cinnamon brown eyes to pop. The albino peacock feathers with their tips dyed black had been staggered on the right side to frame her face. Simple, but striking.

She was striking. There was no other word for it.

Suddenly the muffled laughter turned raucous and echoed down the hall, interrupting Hermione's thoughts. She was pushed into action. She would not be caught standing there like a simpleton by whoever was coming. It really was now or never. She could run away. Or face her fears of alienation head on.

With a steady hand, she reached out and pulled the heavy door open before she stepped into a room much warmer than she had expected....