The next few days passed quickly, and Saturday found me frantically going through my wardrobe, throwing out clothes and shoes in a tempo worthy of a Snidget. You might be wondering why I was so obviously distraught, and the answer is quite simple. In an hour, I was meeting up with Draco. And it was not just any meeting either, it was a date. A date that I was beginning to regret having ever asked him to. You see, I had never been on a date before. I didn't know what to do, what would be expected of me, and most importantly, what to wear. Yes, I know, only three weeks earlier the notion of me dressing up for Draco Malfoy would have been ludicrous, but now, it was an actual problem. Believe it or not, I wanted to look nice for him. Yes, I know it's silly, but the idea of Draco finding me even remotely handsome made my stomach flutter, and I kind of liked that feeling, so I did my best to look perfect. Only, I had never known it to be so difficult! I had plenty of clothes, all of them new and good looking, one would have thought I would have been able to find one outfit that was good enough. No such luck. Fortunately, my knight in shining armour and the defender of my honour chose that exact moment to come through the door. Yes, I'm talking about Hermione.
"Harry! What in the name of Merlin are you doing, your whole room is a mess! Your clothes are lying everywhere!" Hermione exclaimed, looking at me with an expression of horror I hadn't seen since the time she got a mere E on her charms essay. It doesn't say a lot for the tidiness of my room, now does it?
"I don't know what to wear!" I moaned, pulling on my hair. That was the one good thing with its length, I really got a good grasp when I was annoyed and wanted to pull it. Which had happened a lot since my birthday, especially in proximity to mirrors.
"What does it matter? Can't you just pick something?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brows in confusion. I do understand her puzzlement, I had never been one to care about my clothes before. 'Before' being the key word.
"No, it has to be something special!" I whined, diving into the wardrobe again and pulling out more clothes.
"Harry, stop that this instant! You're just going to make them all wrinkly!" Hermione ran over to be and pulled me away from the wardrobe, efficiently stopping the massacre of innocent clothes. "And why does it have to be special?" Honestly, isn't it obvious?
Blushing furiously, I looked down at the floor. "I'm going to Hogsmeade." I mumbled.
"You have to dress up because you're going to Hogsmeade?" exclaimed Hermione incredulous, and I shook my head. "Then what? Why in the world do you even care what you're wearing?" She asked, her voice taking on an annoyed sound. She looked at me for the answer, when suddenly her eyes lit up. I knew she'd get it eventually. "Oh! You're not going alone, are you? You're going with Draco! You have a date!" she practically squealed, and when I nodded she threw herself around my neck in a bone crushing hug. "Oh, I'm so happy for you! My little Harry, all grown up." She looked almost nostalgic for a moment, before her behaviour became business like. "Harry, go take a shower, right away. I'll find an outfit for you, and then I'll help you with your hair." Smiling in relief, I nodded my head before Hermione shooed me away. "Go, go, go!"
When I came into the room again, all my clothes were back in the closet, except for one outfit lying on my bed. Hermione instantly handed it too me, and told me to get dressed. I had long since grown used to dressing in front of Hermione, she was like a sister to me, and I had no problems with her seeing me clad only in my boxers. I put on the clothes, and turned to look in the mirror. It really was a nice outfit. The trousers were a pair of light blue jeans that hugged my hips just so, and to it Hermione had chosen a plain, white t-shirt and over it, a formfitting grey suit jacket that was supposed to hang open. All in all, I looked rather good.
"You look beautiful," said Hermione softly, and I smiled at her. She wasn't one to throw out compliments for every little thing, so her approval meant a lot to me. "Now, come here so I can do your hair." I walked over to her and sat down on the bed, so that she could sit behind me and access my hair easily. Closing my eyes I waited, trusting her to know what would look best. After what seemed like an eternity, she was finally finished and I got up and walked over to the mirror again. The sight that met me made my chin drop. My hair was tied back in a loose ponytail at the nape of my neck using a black cord. It wasn't as curly as usual, and looked almost as I would have expected my old hair to look like, only longer and more, well, organized. A few locks were left to hang loosely around my face, and they softened up my features, making me look almost handsome. I was truly impressed.
"Wow, Hermione, I didn't know you had such a knack with doing people's hair!"
"Living with Parvati and Lavender will do that to you," she grumbled, making me laugh. Parvati and Lavender really weren't like other people.
"So, you think I can go like this?" I asked anxiously.
"I'll bet my entire book collection that he won't be able to keep his hands off you." Hermione smirked, making be blush. I looked back into the mirror and put on my best calm face. Calm, I told myself, and composed . Oh, and graceful, don't forget graceful. Smiling slightly at Hermione, I put a hand on the doorknob. I took one last deep breath, and opened the door, all the while repeating my new mantra; calm, composed and graceful.
When I came out to the living room the view that met me momentarily took my breath away. Draco was already waiting for me, standing by the fireplace. The soft light made his skin seem almost translucent and his eyes looked like molten silver. He was dressed in black dress pants and a pale blue cashmere sweater with a v-neck. It was a respectable and decent looking outfit, yet it left little to the imagination. Trust a Malfoy to look devilishly sexy in clothes fit for a school teacher.
"Hey, are you ready to go?" He asked, looking at me through the fringe of his hair.
"Yeah," I smiled, every inch the calm, composed and graceful Gryffindor. Oh, who am I kidding? I was a nervous wreck! I had to use every bit of dignity I possessed not to turn around and run the other way. Or jump the boy in front of me. Either one would do.
"Come on then," he laughed and opened the portrait. I followed him down the hall, and when I caught up with him, I threw all my dignity out the window and did the one thing I'd always associated with a date. I held his hand. And looking up at him, I decided it was worth the loss of dignity. The grin on his face was worth anything.