Her hair was flying all around her in a cloud of brown frizz. Hermione wildly waved her wand, glancing out of the corner of her eye at her competitor, who looked as smooth and collected as always, tapping his cauldron lightly with his wand, the faintest hint of a smirk on his smooth pale lips. He knew she was watching, he knew he was winning.
The gown glimmered in the light; the translucent layers caught his eye and reminded him of a dragonfly’s wings. She looked like that, floating within the crowd, sparkling and standing out from the rest of them in their dull, normal gowns and robes.