A/N: Written for Star's Alternative Yule Ball challenge, in which Hermione has to go with anyone but Viktor. Enjoy!

"Your partners for the Yule ball, Potter," she said coldly. "Your dance partners."

Harry's insides seemed to curl up and shrivel.

"Dance partners?" He felt himself going red. "I don't dance," he said quickly.

"Oh yes, you do," Professor McGonagall said irritably. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball." (page 387 American paperback GoF)

Harry left the class feeling mortified. He, who had never danced before, would be forced into dancing with a partner in front of the entire school. To him, it sounded like a prime opportunity to prove to the school what a fool he really was.

He briefly considered returning to McGonagall and flat-out refusing to do it. But, he supposed, that would look even worse than dancing poorly. Although that depended on his dancing…

Having reached the common room, he gloomily muttered the password to the Fat Lady, and the portrait hole swung open, revealing the bustle of activity that meant everyone was heading off to dinner. He noticed Ron waiting for him at the bottom of the steps to the boys' dormitory and Hermione descending the girls' stairs, heading over to where Ron stood…and then it hit him.

Hermione was a girl.

The thought occurred so naturally to him, he wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. What if she didn't know how to dance…? He would have to try his luck.

"Ron, wait here with Hermione, alright?" he said, without waiting for a response before dashing up the stairs to stow his bag on his bunk. By the time he had reached the bottom of the stairs (breathless), Hermione was only just reaching Ron.

"That didn't take long, did it?" asked Ron as the three of them set off. Harry threw him a dark look before turning and directing his attention to Hermione.

"McGonagall kept me back to tell me the Triwizard champions have to lead the first dance with their partners."

She shrugged, although he could hear Ron snigger beside him. "I could have told you that."

Of course she could have, Harry thought, feeling a bit silly. "I don't know how to dance."

Ron laughed even harder, but Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's not so hard, once you get the hang of it. I had to learn for a party my parents had."

"Is there anything you don't know how to do?" asked Ron, and Hermione frowned at him but was spared from responding by their arrival in the Great Hall, where the Beauxbatons students were already seated.

Ron was distracted enough by Fleur Delacour and the other girls that Harry could safely talk to Hermione.

"Hermione, I need a…favor."

"Of course, Harry," she said distractedly, trying to keep Ron moving toward the table. "What do you need?"

"I need you to teach me how to dance."

"Oh." Ron kept moving, but Hermione and Harry stopped at the end of the table.

"I wouldn't ask, but you said you know how, and I need to learn quickly…" He trailed off, smiling pathetically and hoping she would feel sympathetic. "Please?"

"Sure, Harry," she answered. "I'll help. We can start tonight, if you like."

"Hermione, you're a lifesaver," he sighed in relief, and she blushed a little.

They continued toward where Ron was already seated, Harry feeling considerably lighter than before.

"I talked Professor McGonagall into letting us use her classroom for lessons," said Hermione as they entered the room. "She understands your plight, I think, and she certainly doesn't want you embarrassing Gryffindor."

"I'd like to think I'm not that bad…" muttered Harry, but Hermione seemed barely to hear him.

"Anyway, I moved the desks out of the way and now we have a nice open space for practicing." She pointed at McGonagall's desk. "I've even enchanted a record player for us."

"You're brilliant," breathed Harry, and Hermione blushed again.

"Alright. Let's begin." She pointed her wand in the direction of the record player and muttered something under her breath, and it began to play a classic instrumental piece he didn't recognize. "Do you at least know how to properly hold your partner?"

Harry flushed. "Not really," he answered sheepishly.

"As I expected." Hermione didn't notice his embarrassment, instead processing the lesson to come in her mind based on Harry's limited knowledge. "You're to put one hand on my back, below my shoulder, and hold the other hand in mine."

"Uh…which hand goes where?" asked Harry.

"You're right-handed, correct?" Harry nodded. "Then you lead with your right, so your right hand goes on my shoulder."

"Alright." Awkwardly, Harry placed his hands where Hermione had indicated, noticing with a little embarrassment the curve of Hermione's back. Hermione placed her right hand in Harry's left and her left on his shoulder. She then placed her hip against his.

"Uh…?" He looked at her quizzically.

"It helps the partners connect and helps you lead," said Hermione, blushing bright red. "It's not really necessary." She moved away again.

"It's fine," said Harry. "If it will help me lead."

She blushed even redder and moved her hip against his again. Trying to focus, she shook her head. "The steps are really quite easy," she said. "Basically, you're just leading with your right foot and following with your left."

"Wouldn't that just lead you in a straight line?" asked Harry.

She smiled. "That's the point of the turning."

"Oh." He felt really stupid now. "This is easier than I thought."

"That's only the simplest step," answered Hermione. "But we'll master those later."

Harry sighed but began leading Hermione in slow circles around the makeshift dance floor, tripping a few times but for the most part staying in step.

"This isn't so bad," he muttered into her ear when the song ended and another started.

"No," she agreed, quiet for once.

For a long while they danced, the simple motions finally becoming routine to him, until, an hour later, he was feeling more confident than ever on his two feet.

Hermione was pink in the face, a sign of her effort. "You need to learn a few different steps, but I promise, the hardest part's over. You're doing quite well."

Harry smiled. "So we'll continue again tomorrow night?"

"We still need to get some homework done," said Hermione with a grin. "But I like that you're eager to learn. The night after next, same time."

"Alright," agreed Harry.

The rest of the walk back to Gryffindor Tower was silent, Harry busy thinking and Hermione presumably doing the same. Upon reaching the common room, they found it nearly empty, Ron sitting alone by the fire.

"Where have you been?" he asked, standing.

Hermione began to answer before Harry cut her off. "I needed some homework help. We were in the library."

Hermione gave him a funny look but remained quiet, again. Harry noticed with some concern she had done that a lot tonight.

"Why didn't you invite me?" asked Ron as they headed to the stairs.

"I figured you'd copy me anyway," said Harry with a shrug.

"Good point," answered Ron.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Harry turned around. "Good night, Hermione," he called, despite that she was already out of sight.

She retreated a step. "Good night, Harry."

And they parted, heading up to their separate dormitories lost in thought.

"So I think I'll teach you the waltz, first," said Hermione as they entered the McGonagall's classroom on the night of their next lesson. "From there, the others are simple."

"Alright," said Harry, not really knowing what she was saying.

"The hand positions are the same," she said after turning on the record player. "It's just the steps that are different."

"How different?" asked Harry with trepidation.

"Not bad-different, just…different."

Harry wasn't sure what that meant but accepted her instructions, finding with pleasure that the steps weren't that hard for him.

"Not so bad, right?" asked Hermione.

"Not bad at all," agreed Harry.

Her breath mingled with his, and for a moment Harry was completely lost in her eyes and her smile and her hair and…then the moment was over.

"We'll pick up here Saturday?" questioned Hermione.

"Sure," agreed Harry.

Saturday couldn't come quick enough.

Friday dragged on until it finally gave way to Saturday and their next lesson. They had an afternoon session, and after lunch they headed straight for the empty classroom. Harry mastered the waltz fifteen minutes in, and after a while they began on the foxtrot. By the time dinner came, he had almost gotten the steps down pat.

"You're really coming along well, Harry," said Hermione, flushed with pleasure. "You're a natural dancer."

"I think it's mostly just you," said Harry, looking away, and he was convinced he was telling the truth.

Had it not been for her and the absolute chemistry that was now painfully obvious to him, he would never have mastered anything as quickly as he had. And although Cho was pretty in her own way, Hermione was gorgeous, something he hadn't seen until he'd seen it.

"The Yule Ball is Wednesday," Hermione was saying, "so we'll have a lesson tomorrow and then I think you'll set."

"Right," said Harry, and he decided then and there exactly what he was going to do.

Harry woke early on Sunday, filled with nervous anticipation at the day ahead of him. He paced around the common room until Hermione finally made it down the stairs, and they set off, leaving Ron asleep in the dorms.

"You're getting an early start," commented Hermione lightly as they ate.

"Couldn't sleep," answered Harry, a bit tersely, and Hermione backed off.

"After breakfast, then?" she asked, and he nodded immediately.

Thus, after finishing their meals, they headed straight to McGonagall's room, Hermione quickly moving the desks out of the way and setting the record player straight. He held her easily, if not a little tightly, and they danced the foxtrot until he finally felt comfortable.

"Let's switch back to the waltz," he suggested upon the beginning of a new song. "I like it better."

She agreed, and they switched, Harry falling easily back into the steps.

"Hermione," he said halfway through the second song. "Who are you going to the Ball with?"

She flushed. "You can't tell anyone, alright? Especially Ron," she answered, biting her lip.

"I won't," he said, giving her a quizzical look. "Who?"

"Viktor Krum asked me."

Harry's heart and feet stopped. "Krum asked you?" He felt like tearing the arm off the model Ron had in their dorm. "And what did you say?"

"I haven't actually answered yet," muttered Hermione, worried at his reaction. "I haven't decided. But no one else has asked me…"

"Go with me," he said immediately.

She met his eyes. "You…want me to go?"

"How could you even question that?" He took both her hands in his. "Dancing with you has opened up my eyes. You're beautiful, Hermione. And the chemistry we have—"

"Okay," she said.

"What?" he questioned.

"I'll go."

With a huge grin, Harry leaned closer to her and pressed his lips against hers just as the song ended on a triumphant note.

If possible, Harry was even more nervous the night of the ball. He had dressed up, Ron asking constantly who he was even going with—having realized Hermione was a girl a bit too late—and generally pestering him until Harry abandoned him and his terrible dress robes in favor of waiting in the common room for Hermione.

Parvati and Lavender preceded her down the stairs, giggling hysterically at the thought of Hermione even having a date. Finally, Hermione descended.

Her dress, a classic black-and-white gown, was floor-length, complete with ruffles in the slit. She wore tiny, gem-studded Eiffel towers in her ears and her hair was done in an elegant, traditional bun.

"Hermione," breathed Harry when she reached him. "You look gorgeous."

"Thanks," she said shyly, looking at the floor and blushing.

Ron, having reached the common room, met Harry's eyes in a glare and stormed immediately back up, but Harry didn't care. Hermione was there, and at that moment she was more important to him than anything.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm. She took it and smiled.

"Of course."

He led the way down to the Great Hall, where they joined the processional of other champions. He was pleased to see the others staring and ogling at his date—his Hermione.

"Hermione," he said as they entered the Hall.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Would you like to go out on a date sometime?" he asked, and she met his eyes with a grin.

"Did you expect me to say no?" she asked.

He smiled widely and kissed her lips in front of the entire Hall.

A/N: Because, you know, those things work out better in fiction. …review, please? 2126