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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 122975 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related properties--all rights belong to Rowling. Nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
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Early Christmas

It was Thursday, the last night before the last day of the end of the term. Sure enough, just as Harry had expected, Snape had announced that he would be springing an exam on Antidotes on the class on Friday. He had eyed Harry with a smug looking sneer on his face as he had done so, no doubt expecting Harry to fail miserably. Harry had stared back at Snape defiantly, knowing that he had this in the bag if Snape didn’t mess with him.
“Evil bastard, he is,” Ron complained bitterly that night in the common room,“Spoiling the last bit of term with a load of studying.”
Hermione raised her eyebrows, looking up from her Potions notes. Harry chuckled, looking up from his own Antidote notes, glad not to be on the receiving end of one of those looks for a change.
“Hmm... not exactly putting much effort into it though, are you?” Hermione said waspishly as Ron delicately placed another card on top of his fortress of Exploding Snap cards. “And I’d think you would do better to be studying too, Neville,” she added, seeing him working on his own tower of cards.
“I’m just going to flub it anyway,” Neville moaned. “Snape hates me. What’s the point?”
“Besides, it’s Christmas Hermione,” Ron grumbled. “Give it a rest why don’t you?”
“Suit yourselves,” Hermione retorted, rolling her eyes.
Ron ignored her, concentrating hard as he carefully added another card to his castle. The entire construction collapsed, exploding in Ron’s face, leaving a few scorch marks on his cheeks and singed eyebrows.
“Nice look, Ron,” sniggered Fred, who had just come down from the dorms with George. “Smouldering eyebrows! That’ll go well with your dress-robes.”
Ron scowled at his brothers.
“Haven’t you two got anything better to do?” he sniped.
“Actually, we wanted to send a letter,” George replied. “Fred’s just joking. Can we borrow Pigwidgeon?”
“Oh!” The irritation faded from Ron’s face. “Sorry, Pig’s already off delivering our Christmas Cards to the Burrow.”
“You can borrow Hedwig, if you like,” Harry suggested. George glanced at Fred inquiringly. Fred shrugged.
“Yeah, alright then. Thanks Harry!” said George, turning to leave. But Fred didn’t seem quite ready to go just yet; he peered shrewdly at Ron and Neville.
“So, you two found dates to the Ball yet?” asked Fred, in a casual tone.
Neville turned pink, and tried to hide his face behind his tower of Snap cards. The scowl returned to Ron’s face.
“No!” Ron groused. “You know we haven’t!”
“Well, you two should get a move on then,” said Fred pointedly, “before all the good ones get snapped up.”
George rolled his eyes. “Come on Fred, let’s get this over with.”
Fred inexplicably shot a wink at Neville and finally turned to follow his Twin to the Owlery. Neville’s shade of pink deepened. Ginny, who had been sitting nearby reading and glancing up at intervals, frowned as she watched Fred and George departing.
“Fred’s right, Neville!” said Ron as soon as the Twins were gone, “We should get a move on! We don’t want to end up with a pair of Trolls.”
Neville’s eyes darted shiftily away as pink turned to crimson.
“A pair of what?” snapped Ginny, rounding angrily on her brother as she slammed her book shut. Hermione narrowed her eyes at Ron.
“We-e-ell,” said Ron slowly, eyeing his infuriated sister warily, “I’d rather go with a Slytherin like Daphne Greengrass, than with someone like Eloise Midgen, let’s say...”
“So you’ll have anyone absolutely horrible, as long as they’re hot little numbers - is that it?”
“Er... yeah. That sounds about right,” Ron agreed, gawking at his sister in bewilderment.
“No, it doesn’t sound right at all,” Ginny fumed. “Girls have feelings too, Ron. We’re not just toys for your amusement!”
Ron stared at Ginny for a moment, then a lightbulb seemed to go off in his head, as if he had just figured out what Ginny was on about. His ears turned scarlet.
“I can’t take you! You’re my sister!” Ron yelped, horrified.
Ginny gaped at him, stunned into silence. Then she giggled hysterically.
“You’re such an idiot sometimes, Ron! You really think I’m cross because I want you to take me to the Ball?”
“Yeah! I do!” said Ron heatedly, looking a bit frightened too. “It’s bloody obvious that you can’t get a date, and you reckoned that seeing as I can’t get one either that we might as well go together. Go on! Tell me I’m wrong!”
“For your information, I do have a date, Ron,” Ginny said coolly. “I’m going with Neville. The only reason we hadn’t told you yet was because we didn’t know how you’d react.”
Ron’s eyes boggled, and he shot a surprised look at Neville.
“I’m sorry Ron,” Neville moaned, shrinking in his seat. “I should have told you. Ginny and I didn’t really decide until yesterday though.”
Ron simply looked confused for a moment, then he slumped miserably in his chair.
“No Neville! I’m sorry! ... I’m so pathetic,” he groaned. “At this rate, I’m probably going to be the only one left without a date. And... er, sorry Ginny... about, er... thinking you actually wanted me to take you. I am an idiot!”
Ginny eyed Ron sympathetically, seeing him looking more receptive to new information finally.
“It’s alright, Ron - I forgive you. Anyway, I was going to tell you, before you started going on about Trolls, that I found a date for you.”
“You... you did?” There was a brief flicker of worry in Ron’s eye, and Harry could tell that he was afraid that Ginny had set him up with someone less than attractive.
“Yes, I did! And you’re going with her, and you will be nice to her!” Ginny said bossily.
“Er... Wh..who is it then?”
“My friend, Luna Lovegood.”
“Oh! You mean the loo...?”
“Don’t you dare finish that question,” said Ginny, her eyes flashing dangerously.
Ron gulped. “I... I’ll be nice to her, I promise.”
“Good! I’ll hold you to that.” Then Ginny abruptly picked up her book and began reading again, indicating that as far as she was concerned, the matter was settled.

~o0o~
It was Friday, and she still didn’t have a date. Shivering, unused to such cold, Fleur Delacour irritably roamed the stone corridors of Hogwarts, haughtily waving off suitors in droves. Sometimes she thought being part Veela was more trouble than it was worth. How was she to know whether a boy really liked her, when all they could see was what was on the outside?
Fleur had hoped it might be better at Hogwarts, with more boys to choose from, but it was just the same as at Beauxbatons. The boys, nearly to the last one, were uninterested in who she was as a person and oblivious to anything she said, with eyes only for whichever part of her figure caught their fancy.
The only ones who seemed to be able to resist her Veela charms were those who were already taken. It was so unfair! Just based on her observations from a distance, that Cedric Diggory boy seemed nice. Fleur had even put on her most alluring poses on purpose, hoping to either entice him, or to test his strength of character before presenting a verbal invitation - only to discover he had already been taken by Cho Chang.
At this point, Fleur would have even settled for Harry Potter, young and inexperienced though he was. From everything she had learned of him, since that first night, she had misjudged him more than a bit harshly. Harry Potter seemed quite pleasant and well mannered - especially compared to most others. Finally taking the time to speak with Harry Potter the other day, after watching him fly with Viktor Krum, had only further cemented her opinion.
But now he too was taken - which was a shame. That he seemed to truly appreciate Hermione Granger, despite her lack of interest in keeping up her appearance, bespoke well of him. Fleur rather thought Granger was very lucky to have him as a boyfriend. Though Fleur had to concede, underneath that bushy hair and those baggy clothes, there was a diamond in the rough. A little polish, and Fleur herself might be tempted by such a girl.
If she weren’t so concerned about the warnings she had received regarding British customs, Fleur might have considered asking some of the girls for a date. But she was far too anxious about the possible repercussions should any take offence. That Skeeter person seemed all too keen to uncover some sort of scandal at Hogwarts, and Madame Maxime was counting on Fleur to represent Beauxbatons well, without creating some sort of tawdry media frenzy.
Fleur had few options left; time was running short. She would simply have to choose from among the least objectionable boys and be done with it.

~o0o~
Finally it was over. When the last class on Friday ended, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. All things considered, it had gone rather well. He had managed to get through the Potions exam without being too rattled by Snape’s digs at the beginning of class.
“I hope you weren’t expecting your transparent ploy to curry favour with the Durmstrang Champion to carry any weight with me, Potter,” Snape had sneered when he passed Harry his test paper. “Dumbledore may believe you are living up to the ideals of international cooperation which best represent the spirit of the tournament, but I can see right through your little charade.
“Bolstering your international celebrity status by rubbing elbows with those far more talented than yourself may have convinced others, but to me you are still nothing more than an arrogant little boy of mediocre intellect who thinks far too highly of himself.
“If you weren’t a Champion, I would make your participation in the Yule Ball contingent on passing this exam, Potter. And if you do manage to pass this test with more than an Acceptable percentage, I will be very surprised indeed.”
“You will be,” Harry had muttered to himself through gritted teeth as Snape stalked back to his desk.
Hermione had given Harry a sympathetic look and hissed, “Ignore him,” under her breath. Harry had taken several deep breaths and closed his eyes, imagining snogging Hermione before starting his test. Feeling more relaxed, Harry had ploughed through the exam, then handed in the completed test with confidence at the end of class.
Snape had peered down his nose at the parchment as if it were something slimy and snatched it from Harry’s hand, replacing it with another parchment from his desk. Harry peered at it, feeling slightly perplexed.
“Your holiday homework,” said Snape, a nasty little smirk hovering about his lips.
Now the Christmas Holidays were afoot, and with it came a whole load of homework for the Fourth Years from all the teachers, including McGonagall. That was to be expected, but there seemed to be an inordinate amount of Potions essays, and Harry was almost certain Snape was deliberately targeting him.
“Bloody Hell!” said Ron, still grumbling by the time they reached the Entrance Hall as he continued to peruse the mile long list of various potions ingredients for each of which Snape expected a foot of parchment.
“This’ll take us till Easter to finish - never mind Christmas,” Neville groaned. Even Hermione was shocked by the excessive amount of homework.
“This does seem a bit overboard...” she muttered, frowning at Snape’s list.
Then Malfoy’s voice rang out nearby, as he loudly addressed Crabbe and Goyle, no doubt for the benefit of the Gryffindors.
“Ah, no Potions homework!” Malfoy gloated “I feel as free as a lark! ... Can you imagine, some teachers are actually handing out homework over the Holidays. But not Professor Snape! At least he understands how important it is for us to spend as much time as possible fraternising with our foreign guests, making them feel welcome.”
Crabbe and Goyle guffawed sycophantically, and Malfoy caught Harry’s eye with a look of malicious glee. Harry crumpled the list of expected essays which Snape had given him in his fist and ground his teeth.
“Ooooh! ... He is just too much!” Hermione fumed, suddenly catching on. “I bet he had his father put Snape up to this. You go on to the common room with the others, Harry, I’ll be there in just a minute...”
“Wait, what? Hermione...?” Harry looked puzzled as Hermione darted off through the crowd of students, headed for who knew where.
“Trouble in Paradise, Potter?” Draco chortled.
Harry snorted. “For you maybe! You think I didn’t notice that Parkinson’s been avoiding you and giving you dirty looks lately? What’d you do? ...invite Greengrass to the Ball instead?”
“For your information Potter, Parkinson and I have an understanding,” Malfoy drawled. “In fact, I expect that I’ll be going with the French Champion.”
Ron sniggered. “Yeah, right! Good luck with that, Malfoy.”
“Does Fleur know that?” asked Harry, his features brightening. “There she is right now... let’s ask her! Hey Fleur...”
“Nice try Potter! You can’t fool me,” Malfoy sneered.
“Oh, ‘Arry, ‘ello! Ees nice to see you again.”
Gaping in surprise at the sound of Delacour’s voice, and shocked that Potter was on a first name basis with the French Champion too, Malfoy spun around.
“Malfoy was just telling me he wanted to ask you something, Fleur,” said Harry, his face a picture of innocence. “Isn’t that right, Malfoy?”
“Er... What? ... Oh, yeah... er,” Malfoy sputtered, looking utterly discombobulated.
“Oh?” Fleur looked Malfoy up and down, bearing an expression which made her look as if she were trying very hard not to sneeze.
Malfoy glanced at Crabbe and Goyle, who were gawking at him and waiting expectantly for him to make his move. He inwardly groaned and cursed Potter for putting him in this position. Swallowing nervously, Malfoy attempted his winningest smile at Delacour, who was patiently awaiting his invitation, and bowed slightly.
“I...er... I would be ever so honoured, to extend my hand to Mademoiselle Delacour, in the hopes that you would grace me with your company at the Yule Ball.” Draco inwardly cringed, hearing his quavering voice end on a slightly high pitch.
Despite her best effort, Fleur couldn’t help the crinkling of her nose. Her heightened Veela senses set off alarm bells in her brain. This boy, Malfoy, he most certainly was not nice. Malfoy - the name was somehow familiar to her, then she recalled from her father’s dealings across the channel, the warnings of his business acquaintances.
“Non! I theenk not,” she said loftily. “Please, do not bozzer me again!” she added for good measure, with a wave of her hand as if to shoo Malfoy away.
If looks could kill, Harry reckoned he’d be dead from the look Malfoy was giving him right now. Harry grinned as Malfoy whirled around and quickly stalked off, his hulkish minions scurrying behind him. Ron and Neville stuffed their fists in their mouths, muffling their roars of laughter.
“Surely, zis Malfoy ees no friend of yours, ‘Arry?” Fleur inquired once the Slytherins were out of sight.
“No, he’s not,” Harry agreed, looking more serious now. He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to tell Fleur why though. Fleur seemed to catch his hesitation, and what she said next caught Harry by surprise.
“I thought not,” she said. “Would be very strange for family who support Dark Lord to be your friend.”
“Yeah... it would,” said Harry. “You know about the Malfoys then?”
“I know leetle from Papa. And I know leetle of your history, ‘Arry. I put togezzer, and I understand zat Malfoy family ees very bad family - Blood-Purists. We have zem in France too - I do not like! ... Zis Malfoy boy, he harasses you and ‘Ermione, non?”
“That’s about the size of it, yeah,” Harry sighed. “Anyway, sorry you got caught in the middle of that...”
“No apology nécessaire, ‘Arry,” Fleur beamed radiantly. “Malfoy, ‘e would ask me to Ball anyway. To shame one such as him een your presence gives me great pleasure. Ees too bad zat ‘Ermione ees not here to see also. Per’aps I see you both at dinner, tonight.”
“Er... yeah. See you later then.”
Feeling a bit bemused, Harry watched for a moment as Fleur exited the castle, then turned to see Ron and Neville - and a few other guys nearby - in a near catatonic state, open-mouthed and drooling. Harry suddenly understood; when Fleur had smiled, her Veela allure must have been turned on full blast. He wondered why it didn’t affect him now - like it had at the World Cup - then he reckoned it must have something to do with how he felt about Hermione.

~o0o~
When Hermione arrived, she winced as her eardrums were assaulted by the gales of laughter echoing in the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Neville were guffawing loudly and Fred and George were rolling on the floor holding their sides and howling. Ginny, Lavender and Parvati were falling all over each other, giggling hysterically, tears streaming down their cheeks.
A number of other Gryffindors were in the common room too, and they were all laughing uproariously as well. Harry was just grinning and watching.
“What’s going on?” Hermione shouted to be heard.
“Malfoy just asked Fleur to the Yule Ball,” Harry yelled back. “She turned him down flat.”
“Oh?” Hermione gave Harry a why-was-that-so-funny? sort of look.
“You kind of had to be there,” shouted Harry, looking apologetic. “Ron tells it best - but he’s too busy laughing his arse off at the moment. If you wait long enough though, I know he’ll tell it again.”
Hermione nodded, grinning; the mood was infectious, and she was quite familiar with Ron’s penchant for repeating a good tale and his talent for silliness. Sure enough, as soon as the laughter began dying down, and Seamus and Dean arrived from wherever they’d been, Ron began telling it again, embellishing little details.
“...You should’ve seen his face when Harry said ‘There’s Fleur right now... let’s ask her!’...” Ron did an impression of Malfoy spinning around with a gormless look on his face, and mimicked Malfoy’s sputtering when Harry went on to tell Fleur that Malfoy wanted to ask her something. Soon the entire common room was laughing again, Hermione wheezing along with them, clutching at stitches in her side.
By the time things eventually calmed down, Harry was dying to ask Hermione where she had gone.
“You’ll see soon enough,” was her mysterious answer, before popping up to the girls’ dorm with Lavender and Parvati.
Harry was a bit puzzled, having thought that Hermione would want to get started on the piles of homework Snape had set for the Christmas Holidays. But he couldn’t concentrate anyway now, so he had a game of Wizard Chess with Ron, which ended with a Bishop and a Knight violently brutalising his King.
“Better luck next time, Harry,” Ron chuckled.
Finally it was time to get ready for dinner, and the fourth year boys headed to their dorm to change. Seamus and Dean looked fairly pleased with themselves as they were putting on their robes.
“So,” said Harry, a knowing expression on his face, “who are you two going to the Ball with then?”
“Well, I was going to ask Lavender,” said Seamus with a sigh, “but that obviously ain’t happening now tha’ she’s goin’ with Krum. An’ I couldn’t get up the nerve t’ask anyone else, but Dean came through...”
“Oh! You and Dean? I had no idea...” said Harry, surprised, given all the Naughty Witches magazines he knew Seamus kept stashed under his mattress. Ron sniggered, then shut up when Harry gave him a there’s-nothing-wrong-that-sort-of-thing look.
“Nah,” Dean laughed amiably. “I asked Parvati to the Ball after Susan Bones said she was going with someone else, and she said she’d hook up Seamus with her sister, Padma.”
Once ready, Harry followed the rest of the Gryffindors down the marble stairs to the Great Hall for the first dinner of the Christmas Holidays, arm in arm with Hermione, who was still keeping mum about whatever she had been doing while Draco Malfoy had been getting shot down by Fleur.
“Come on, Please? Why won’t you tell me?” he begged, giving her his best puppy eyes.
“Just hold your horses, Harry. It won’t be long now,” said Hermione, with an almost smug expression.
Bursting with anticipation, Harry took his seat next to Hermione. The first big surprise of the evening was when Fleur sat down at the Gryffindor table, right next to Hermione, much to the chagrin of many of Fleur’s fellow Beauxbatons (who were all sitting at the Ravenclaw table, as they nearly always did). The Great Hall buzzed with intrigue, as everyone stared and whispered.
Harry chortled; he felt like Christmas had come early, catching the look of rage on Draco Malfoy’s face. Harry almost wondered if this was the surprise that Hermione had somehow orchestrated, but he immediately chucked out that idea as soon as it crossed his mind, as Hermione had been elsewhere during Draco’s disgrace. Fleur was clearly intending to make a bold statement all of her own accord.
The murmur in the Hall quieted when Dumbledore stood up and took to the fore of the staff table, clearly to make some sort of speech. Harry peered at Dumbledore expectantly as the headmaster cleared his throat. Dumbledore’s crystal blue gaze cast out across the Hall, briefly noting Fleur’s change in seating arrangements with apparent approval; he caught Harry’s eye and winked.
“Greetings to students, colleagues, and our esteemed guests from the Continent,” Dumbledore began warmly, his rich, sonorous tones carrying throughout the Hall, “I know how important this time of year is for many - a time to reconnect with family, and with friends - a time for good cheer and celebration - a time to cast aside old prejudices and to forge new bonds of friendship and solidarity.
“And it is in this spirit I am greatly pleased to see our Champions spreading their wings and coming together, in a display of fealty which truly embodies the greatest ideals of the Triwizard Tournament. Words alone cannot express how much it warms my heart to see Hogwarts students welcoming our friends from the Continent with open arms.
“Therefore, in order to give you all more time to get to know one another this joyous Holiday Season, I am pleased to announce that all homework assignments handed out have been canceled.
“There is more than enough time during the schoolyear proper for hard work, when hard work is to be expected. This is to be a time of relaxation and merriment - let your hair down and fill your hearts with joy!
“... not to mention filling your bellies with the sumptuous feast,” Dumbledore added with a twinkle in his eye before taking his seat.
The Great Hall burst into thunderous applause and whoops of delight, but nobody was cheering louder than those at the Gryffindor table. Harry’s face almost hurt from grinning so much when he spotted Snape’s livid features, which were turning a hue of purple that nearly put Uncle Vernon’s to shame. Draco looked like he might burst into flame and explode.
“This is all you, isn’t it?” Harry said to Hermione, his face a mixture of awe and exultation. “You made this happen! This is the best early Christmas Present ever - well... second best early Christmas Present, after you being my girlfriend that is.”
“Merry Christmas, Harry,” Hermione beamed, giving him a bone-crushing hug and a lingering kiss on the cheek.
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Yuletide Blessing in Disguise