            Hermione met her own eye in the mirror. She looked...hot. An adjective not usually applied to Hermione Granger. But just because it was new, didn’t mean she didn’t like it. Luna had coaxed her hair straight, the light brown locks spilling down her back like a glossy waterfall. Ginny had worked her magic with the makeup, painting Hermione’s eyes in shades of silver and green, to bring out her eyes, and her lips a deep burgundy. And the dress—Hermione twisted, watching the way the black velvet clung to her hips. A high collar pressed into her throat, but with the low-dipped back and mid-thigh hemline, the dress was anything but modest. Then again, it had come from Ginny’s closet.