To Prepare for a Soiree

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Dress Poll Results

(1) Pure Hermione: 15
(2) Ravenclaw Hermione: 4
(3) Queen of Snakes Hermione: 35
(4) Classy Hermione: 4
(5) Gryffindor Hermione: 9

Total Votes: 67
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Tuesday, December 21, 1944
4:53 P.M.

"So, he's going with you tonight, huh?" Draco asked, a small, pleased smirk on his face. The blond ambled up alongside Hermione and stopped, his thumbs hooked around the belt loop on his black designer pants, innocently rocking back and forth on his heels.

Behind him, crimson reds, deep greens, and sparkling whites swirled by as every available prefect scurried back and forth, putting the finishing touches on the Great Hall as the clock ticked down to seven o'clock.

Oh, no.

Hermione did not need to talk about this right now.

"Well, it seems you have the right sources," she said shortly. She took the end of a gigantic, twenty-meter loop of rich forest green garland from Ron's outstretched hands, and began to Wingardium Leviosa it around the frame of the main doors. Suddenly a loud crash filled the room.

Startled, Hermione leapt a mile at the unexpected, thunderous clattering noise. Simultaneously, she lost her concentration on the Levitation spell and, therefore, her hold on the garland.

"Watch it!" the lanky redhead exclaimed sharply, yanking Hermione from the path of the raining garland before it could knock her off her feet. Like a fallen star, the menacing garland crashed dangerously to the floor, nicking Draco on the back of the head in the process.

"Ow! Nef!" Draco exclaimed in annoyance, sidestepping the wreath of cranberries and pine needles. Smirking like a fiend, he cupped his hands around his mouth and hooted, "Nice save, West!"

"Thanks, Ron," Hermione faintly murmured to her rescuer as an enthusiastic round of applause broke out among the twenty or so prefects scattered around the Great Hall.

Jacobson Andrews stuck two fingers into his mouth and skillfully let out an earsplitting whistle. "Who knew decorating could be so hazardous to your health?"

"Do that one more time!" A sixth year Ravenclaw named Guy Davis chortled, balancing two potted, closed Moonlight Magnolias above his head.

Immature boys, Hermione thought exhaustedly, rapidly approaching her four-hour night sleep and full day of Holiday Soiree preparation's functional limit.
Her heart thudding, her brain feeling about ready to explode, Hermione straightened her robe with as much dignity as she had left and glanced toward the seventh year prefect Miranda Wilkes, who had been levitating one of the room-length tables along the wall to form up with the second food display.

The table was now flipped over on its side, leaning up against the Hufflepuff table so that it jutted out into the air. Hermione was both shocked and relieved that the booming 'crack' of the table hadn't actually broken anything. "Miranda! Swish and flick it from the bottom, not the top!"

"Mione, I can actually give her a hand with that," Ron said out of the blue, the swish and flick comment getting the usually lazy boy into motion.

Miranda started shaking her head out of her daze. She looked horrified as she noticed she was the reason why one of the legendary house tables was currently so precariously askew. "Oh Merlin...sorry about that, Nefertari!" the black-haired Slytherin yelled back, nodding at Ron as he jogged over usefully, wand in hand. "Thanks, West."

Hermione sighed heavily and turned back toward the giant double doors, sending the mile-long garland back into the air with a flip of her wand. Her mental status was so exhausted that a thought that should have occurred to her minutes before struck her now. "And where is Hailey? She was supposed to vanish the other house tables right after we set up the bloody dance floor!"

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