Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, they belong to the fantastic J.K. Rowling, blah blah blah ;)
A/N: Thank you to my lovely reviewers. Each time I read a new review, be it good or bad, I smile because I know that someone is paying attention to my rambling which makes me feel loved, haha. I have been asked whether or not there will be a sequel, and I’ve been thinking about that lately. There may be one, or I might just do an entirely new story. I have an idea brewing at the moment, so hopefully something will come from that. Aside from that, has anyone listened to Feltbeats? Tom Felton is so gorgeous, and his songs are so sweet. Anyway, on with the story!
***
Hermione and Ron didn’t speak for the next few weeks, which caused Harry great discomfort, though Ginny said that Hermione was doing the right then when she voiced her concerns on the issue.
“As I’ve said before, Ron was being a prat about it. Go with someone else, make him feel jealous, and then he’ll come crawling back,” she said soothingly. The two were up in Hermione’s dormitory one afternoon a few days before the ball.
“I’ve already got a date lined up, but I don’t know if I want Ron to come crawling back. I mean, he’s lovely and all, and I honestly do love him, but I can’t see myself staying with him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, though,” Hermione frowned, clutching the pillow she was hugging to her chest.
“You want to break up with him?” Ginny surmised, and Hermione nodded feebly.
“I just don’t know,” Hermione threw herself back against the rest of the pillows.
“Forget about that for the moment. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me who you’re going to the ball with?” Ginny said. Hermione had refused to tell anyone about her date for fear they might tell Ron.
“I’m sure, you’ll just have to wait until this Saturday, little Miss Impatient,” Hermione said, her confusion behind her for the minute. “Do you want some tea?”
“Nah, sorry. I’m meeting Harry in the library in a few minutes, so I better head off anyway. See you,” Ginny said, heading down to the common room with a wave.
Hermione decided to take a shower and get into some comfortable clothes before making dinner for herself and possibly Malfoy. The two of them had been eating their meals together much more often as it was easier and saved time which they then used to finish their homework. Hermione didn’t mind cooking for Malfoy who complimented her cooking skills.
After a hot shower Hermione’s head felt clear, and she pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans and an oversized jumper and headed down to the common room where Malfoy was pouring over a star-chart for his Astronomy class.
“I’m going to make some dinner, do you want any?” Hermione asked as she passed him.
“Um, yeah,” Malfoy muttered as he tried to predict the alignment of Jupiter and Saturn.
“Any requests?”
“Pork chops would be nice.”
“Once again, I believe you have woken up on the right side of the bed this morning, Malfoy, because you’re being positively nice. No ‘Granger’ or anything,” observed Hermione.
“I see you haven’t kicked the habit,” Malfoy smirked, though he didn’t look up from his work.
“No, I should probably see someone about my addiction.”
“Mm, most likely. Soon you’ll be calling everyone by their last names.”
“Like you?”
“Like me,” he confirmed, dropping his quill with satisfaction as he looked over his parchment. “I’m going to go and take a shower, Granger.”
Hermione chuckled and nodded and continued making the dinner. As she did, her mind wandered to thoughts of the ball and how Ron would take it when he saw her arrive with Malfoy. She hummed quietly to herself as she worked, and placed two plates on the table beside two mugs of butterbeer which she had asked the house elves to send up.
She planned to wait for Malfoy but her stomach growled in protest, so she ate slowly, picking at the mashed potato. Just as she was about to dig in, Malfoy sauntered in. Hermione fought hard not to let her jaw drop – he was wearing a tight black shirt which clung to his well defined chest and long emerald coloured pants. His hair was still wet from his shower and it hung into his grey eyes in a way that made her want to reach out and brush it away.
“Staring, Granger? Subtle.”
Hermione shook her head. “You wish,” she said defensively, her mind drifting back to the first night of the school year.
“I do,” Malfoy grinned and winked before starting to eat. Hermione just rolled her eyes at him.
After they had finished eating their plates and mugs disappeared, so they decided to work together on a particularly difficult Ancient Runes translation which Professor Babbling had set them for homework. They lay their text books out on the table along with several long pieces of parchment around them to scribble on. Hermione set to work as Malfoy finished setting up.
“Are you looking forward to Halloween?” Malfoy asked about half an hour into the translation; they were making hardly any progress, having only translated two lines of what was a page long passage.
“Yes, it should be fun. Do you have your mask?” Hermione asked, sticking her quill between her teeth.
“Mhm, it should match your robes by the description you gave me. It’s silver with a bit of blue detailing. You said your mask was blue with silver detailing, so I hope they look okay.”
“It’ll look fine, I’m sure.”
“Does anyone know you’re going with me?” Malfoy asked, scribbling a translation down.
“No, I figured I’d keep it a surprise until the night. Any of your Slytherin pals know I’m going with you?”
“Just Blaise, but he doesn’t care.”
The two lapsed into silence again, and by midnight they had finished the translation, but hadn’t made a start on any of their other homework including a two foot long essay on poisons for Potions and an explanation on transfiguring furniture into animals. They both sighed as they pulled out their work, and they scribbled things down in silence for an hour before Hermione threw her quill down.
“I give up, this essay is torture,” she said, pushing her chair back and stretching.
“Hermione Granger, giving up on homework? This must be a world first,” Malfoy teased, though he too was putting away his unfinished homework. Hermione poked her tongue out at him.
“I’m going to bed, see you in the morning,” Hermione yawned and went up to her bedroom.
“’Night, Granger,” Malfoy said, watching her leave. He once again felt a strange pang in the pit of his stomach as she left, and went to bed muttering to himself.
***
On the day of the ball, excitement levels were high in Hogwarts. Ginny and Hermione converged in Hermione’s room as it was private and quiet, and they spent the afternoon preparing themselves. Ginny helped Hermione to get her hair just right. It ended up looking very pretty with a few curls framing her face and the rest in a messy bun which resulted in a fair bit of hair spilling out the back. They both went light on the makeup because their faces would be obscured by masks, but there was enough to make a noticeable effect.
An hour before the ball Ginny went back to her dormitory to finish getting ready and so her and Harry could leave together. Hermione, with butterflies in her stomach, passed the time before getting changed by reading, but she could scarcely focus on the words and they ended up become jumbled. She put the book down in frustration and decided that it wasn’t too early to get changed.
She slipped into the dress and checked her reflection in the mirror before putting the heels on which accentuated her legs. She was very happy with the final product once she placed the mask on, and she smiled at her reflection before carefully, so as not to trip, making her way down to the common room.
Malfoy came down not long after, dressed in a fully black set of dress robes with a silver tie and a silver mask with a blue trim. Hermione was pleased to see his jaw drop when he saw her.
“You look wonderful, Hermione,” he said quietly, taking her arm.
“Are we onto first name bases now, Draco?” she laughed, and he joined in. The two of them walked down to the Great Hall, taking care that Hermione didn’t fall as she took tiny steps to avoid tripping in her heels. They attracted a lot of attention, though no one was sure who they were.
Once they reached the Great Hall, they both gasped in shock.
“Wow,” was all Hermione could say as they both looked around.
Whoever had decorated the hall had outdone themselves; there were large pumpkins in each corner, and everlasting candles hovered magically in the air, casting the room in an orange glow, and live bats fluttered around the ceilings. The end result was superb, both elegant and eerie at the same time, and Hermione and Draco were both very impressed. There were also tables scattered around the room, and Hermione saw a few people sitting at them, including Harry and Ginny.
They both looked stunning, and Ginny waved frantically and pulled Harry along to greet Hermione.
“You look gorgeous!” she squealed, hugging her friend tightly. “And who is your mystery man?” she added with a giggle.
“You look amazing, Hermione,” Harry agreed, but he eyed Draco with apprehension.
Hermione took Draco’s hand and squeezed it gently as she introduced him: “My mystery man is Draco.”
Both Harry and Ginny looked shocked, but they covered it up quickly and seemed genuinely happy for Hermione.
“You two look great together,” Harry said first, shaking Draco’s hand, much to Ginny and Hermione’s combined surprise. “Look after her, Malfoy,” he added in an undertone, to which Draco nodded.
“No harm will come to her while I am with her,” he said formally, and excused himself and Hermione as the band, The Weird Sisters, began playing their first set for the night. “Care to dance?” he murmured in her ear.
She nodded and he led the way to the empty dance floor where he placed his hand on her waist and the couple began to glide along. The floor soon began to fill, and Hermione started to feel overcrowded.
“Let’s go and get something to eat, I’m starving,” she said after one particularly fast paced song, and Draco agreed immediately. The two headed over to an empty table where the meal system was much the same as it had been at the Yule Ball.
“Roast chicken,” Hermione said clearly, and a plate of succulent chicken with a side of roast vegetables appeared on the gold plate before her. Draco poured them both a goblet of mead before ordering for himself (pea and ham soup). Just as they started their meal, Harry and Ginny sat across from them and ordered their own dinner.
“Where is Ronald?” Hermione asked, not caring but feeling like she should ask. She was feeling very light and carefree, something that she had noticed she only felt when she was either with Ginny or Draco.
“Over in the corner, sulking. He asked Lavender Brown, but she seems more interested in Dean,” Ginny snorted, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile. She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, Draco’s lips pull up into a little smile.
The four of them sat chatting lightly, and Hermione was very impressed with how Draco was acting towards her friends – he hadn’t said one offensive thing all night. Just as Hermione began to think the night may go smoothly-
“OI! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”
Ron was striding over to Hermione and Draco who were holding hands on the table, anger emanating from every pore in his body. Hermione’s eyes widened, and Draco must have sense her anxiety because he squeezed her hand softly. Harry and Ginny seemed to melt away from the table.
“That is MY girlfriend you’re holding hands with, buddy,” Ron yelled as he reached them. Hermione turned a deep shade of red, though she was nowhere near as red as Ron was. She soon realized she needn’t have turned red though, because the music was so loud no one could hear them.
“If she’s your girlfriend, then why is she with me?” Draco asked, his voice returning to the usual drawl which had hadn’t used all night.
“Well…I…you…” Ron spluttered, and Draco smirked. “Hermione, who is this and why are you holding hands with him?” Ron rounded on Hermione who felt anger boiling inside of her.
“This, Ronald, is what a proper date looks like. Dressed well and paying attention to me. I’m holding hands with him because that’s what I do with my dates, I hold hands with them and pay attention to them,” Hermione spat, standing up with Draco.
“Later, Weasley,” Draco muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he led the way to the dance floor. Before they could reach it however, Ron had something else to say.
“Malfoy? Mione, you came to the ball with Malfoy?” Ron bellowed, this time turning a few heads.
“Yes, Ronald, I came to the ball with Draco, and for the last time, don’t call me Mione!” Hermione spat the last four words scathingly. Ron, apparently too angry to say anything, stormed out of the Hall, scaring a group of fourth year girls who had been hovering by the door.
“Dance with me,” Draco said soothingly to Hermione, pulling her close to his body. She was tense for a moment, but as they started swaying slowly to ‘Whispering Unicorns’ by The Weird Sisters, she relaxed, resting her head against his chest. Draco gently let his chin rest on the top of her head and fought the urge to kiss her.
“Thank you,” Hermione whispered after the song had finished and they had broken apart.
“For what?” Draco asked, smiling slightly as he looked at her.
“For this, for everything, and for not letting Ron spoil this evening.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said and they started to dance again to the louder and much faster paced ‘Poke the Hippogriff.’
***
Three songs later, Hermione and Draco decided that they had danced enough and Draco led her outside into the courtyard which sparkled and shone dimly from even more everlasting candles. He noticed her shiver as they stepped out into the cool October air and, before she could protest, he shrugged his suit jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. She smiled softly up at him.
“What can I do to thank you for all of this?” Hermione asked as they stopped walking by a large glittering fountain.
“You don’t need to do anything. All of this was my choice,” Draco said quietly, brushing a stray curl from her face. Her skin was warm despite the evening’s chill. He took off her mask and then removed his own, and they stared into each other’s eyes for a moment in silence.
“Surely there is something,” she murmured, and he paused as he looked at her large chocolate eyes.
“Kiss me.”
***
A/N: Ooooh! I loved writing this chapter! By the way, I’m not trying to make Ron look like the bad guy, I’m just taking some of the less exemplary traits of his and showing them in a way which J.K. Rowling does in some of her books. If you don’t believe me, see how mean he is to Hermione in HBP after catching Ginny and Dean snogging. I hope you enjoyed the cliff-hanger. As usual, please R&R. x
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