Chapter 3. Ego and Amicita

“This is ridiculous and absurd! Preposterous, dimwitted…and downright stupid!”

Headmistress McGonagall looked up from her breakfast and stared at Severus. She had always known him to be an articulate man. If he had ever used that word, it would usually be to describe his students…not for–

“–The ball will be a waste of time and energy,” Snape muttered to himself. He held his breath and let it out slowly. He needed to handle this situation with more subtlety; outbursts were not like him. Neither was carrying a pink card in his robes without any intention of letting it go.

Snape waited until the end of breakfast before making a second attempt.

“Do you think that it is wise that Hogwarts will be used as a dance hall for the Ministry of Magic?” Snape asked as he walked beside Minerva through the corridors.

“When you say it in that manner, no I do not.” The Headmistress huffed and increased her pace.

“Besides,” she added, “Minister Scrimgeour made a good offer.”

“And what would this offer entail?”

It was Snape’s turn to stare when Minerva’s cheeks turned a shade of pink.

“I assure you that Hogwarts’ name will be upheld in the best light throughout the entire ball,” said Minerva once she cleared her throat.

“This is an academic institution!” Snape said in frustration. “I cannot believe that you decided to host such a spectacle without speaking with me first. I am Deputy Headmaster, after all.” Minerva did not respond. Snape looked ahead and saw that they were soon approaching the gargoyle statue. His mind raced to find another argument.

“And what of the students? You cannot expect them to be holed up in their quarters while hundreds of other wizards and witches enter the school.”

“You’re right, Severus. All the proper security measures will be in place the night of the ball. In addition to safety, the fifth, sixth, and seventh year students and their dates are invited to attend the festivities.” They had reached the statue, and Minerva said the password: “Flèche Erronée.”

As Minerva ascended the stairway, she said:

“If you are so concerned about the welfare of our students, then you must attend the ball as well.”

Snape tried to follow the Headmistress, but he only succeeded in running into a stone wall where McGonagall and the stairwell had been.

He snarled, rubbing a hardening bump on his oily scalp. The dunderheads will pay for this, he thought as he headed for the dungeons.

~*~

Several days after her intoxicated bath, Hermione sat at her desk writing a report for Department of International Magical Cooperation. She set her quill next to the parchment with satisfaction and watched the ink shine in the candlelight. It was her best yet, and Hermione smiled at her work. Her happiness faded, however, when she discovered that her conclusion could use a few more sentences…

A knock on the door startled Hermione from her work, making her jump and knock her scrolls and quills to the floor.

She rose from her chair and went to the door.

“Hullo, Hermione!” yelled Ginny once Hermione opened the door. She sobered somewhat when she saw the mess in Hermione’s home. Ginny’s twin brothers paid no mind to what was happening in front of them and proceeded to push their way inside the house.

“You see, Hermione,” started George.

“–We had a bet on what would startle you the most, George and I–” continued Fred.

“I thought it would be Apparating and saying ‘boo;’ Fred thought knocking on the door would work better.”

“I told you I was right, George. I tried Apparating here on her birthday last year, and the reaction-” Fred broke off, his blush outlining each of his freckles.

“I threatened to curse your bits off,” Hermione remembered with a grin. While she was annoyed that they managed to make a mess of her work, she was glad that her friends were there all the same.

Ginny noticed the disorder on the floor and waved her wand to put things in order.

“Sorry about that,” Ginny muttered as the last parchment settled on Hermione’s desk.

“Don’t worry about it. I was only working-”

“Working tonight?” Ginny couldn’t help but interrupt.

“Why not?” Hermione asked.

“Why do you think we’re dressed? Well, Fred and George are changing later…”

Hermione looked at Ginny’s glittering red robes and remembered. “Oh right…the ball…”

“You aren’t going?” George asked.

“Of course not. She didn’t even know there was a ball.” Fred frowned.

“Well, I have been busy.” Hermione gestured to her desk. “You can Floo me later and tell me about it, Ginny.”

“I was planning that you’d be there with us,” Ginny said, grinning.

“I don’t have anything to wear…and I have a report to finish!” said Hermione as she rushed to her desk.

“You mean this?” George held up the parchment over Hermione’s head.

“Yes, that! Give it back, George!” Hermione tried to get her work, but George simply spelled it to fly into Fred’s hand.

“Don’t worry, Hermione.” Ginny’s grin widened as she used Hermione’s words against her. “By the sheer size of it, the report must be done already. And as much as an uptight, perfectionist prick Percy is, he doesn’t want to read another beastly-sized report about cauldron leaks.”

“It is not about cauldrons, thank you very much.” Hermione tried to move past George to get to Fred and her parchment. “It is a study on creating antidotes for experimental potions. It will be largely useful for the Ministry, as well as other wizarding sectors throughout the world and–” Hermione broke off from her speech and noticed that Fred and George were giving each other odd looks.

“Give me the report, now.”

“Why bother, when we can send it to the Ministry for you?” George moved to let Hermione pass him.

“And I can get you ready for the ball,” Ginny said.

“What about Crookshanks? I can’t leave him alone tonight without a sitter.” Hermione advanced upon Fred and the parchment.

Fred took a step back with a gleam in his eyes. “George and I can watch him for the evening.”

“Deliver my mail and watch my cat?” Hermione stopped and crossed her arms. She did not like the look on either of the twins, but Ginny’s pouting face helped change her mind.

“Fine, I’ll go.” Ginny’s face lit up. “But if I hear from your brother that the report has one smudge on it, I will hex you to hell and back.”

“What about a tear in the paper?” asked Fred. When Hermione reached for her wand, he jumped back. George picked up a snarling Crookshanks, and the pair Disapparated.

“Thank Merlin they’re gone! I have so much work to do with you.” Ginny grabbed Hermione’s hand and led her to the bedroom.

Hermione looked down at her old robe and felt her braided hair. “I guess you do.”

“I didn’t mean it like that – actually, I do,” Ginny admitted as she examined Hermione. “Look what I got for you,” Ginny said as she pulled out a sickle-sized piece of fabric from her pocket. With a whispered Engorgio, the fabric grew to be a set of bright blue robes with silver arrows embroidered throughout the garment.

Hermione smiled and said an inner prayer of thanks that the dress wasn’t bright pink. “Gin, you are crazy.”

“I know, I love you, too – now get cleaned up and dressed – quickly, please, I need as much time as possible to tame your hair.”

Hermione hugged her friend and ran to the loo, her new robes clutched to her chest.