A/N: Hello! Gosh, I know it's been eons since an update, and I apologise! Sorry to say this isn't an update to Never alone, but I'll get working on that as soon as possible. I've been seriously lacking in both inspiration and motivation, so I guess that attributes to my story deficit. I hope you enjoy this one though. I don't know how far I want to bring this, so tell me what you think, 'kay!
-fcouk
Disclaimer: No, I'm not J. K. Rowling. No, I don't own any of these characters. Yes, that sucks.
A masked ball. Whose stupid idea was that, anyway?
Draco sniffled indignantly as he raised his glass to his mouth, the contents spilling into his mouth and dousing his tongue with the pleasant pang of sweetness.
His expression, however, gave one the impression that he had just drunk some Basilisk pee.
Where he was, the music that was being played was marginally audible, but it was presumably Muggle music.
How terribly uncouth.
What was the term for it? Rock? Why on Merlin's beard did they name a music genre after a stone?
Draco shifted his feet a little to get a better view of his peers waltzing about through the window.
Grimacing to himself, his glacial eyes surveyed the room with dismal disapproval. There were clumps of students littered around on the marble floor, people dressed in bright, lurid colors, tight long dresses, and oversized, tacky-looking dress robes.
Pitiful, really. The fact that people were willing to participate in such frivolous affairs irked him.
He gulped down a contemptuous scoff with another swig of pumpkin juice.
The sun had risen in a pool of crimson and gold, spilling light all over the school grounds. The lake was amber-tinted, and Draco could have sworn that the moment he turned, a tentacle had just disappeared under its murky depths. But he had more pressing matters.
This was ridiculous, Draco thought to himself. Where was Pansy? He needed some company, however nasal or annoying.
As if to answer him, there was a hydraulic swoosh as the glass door leading to the balcony suddenly burst open, and a girl marched out. A pandemonium of sound followed her out, cut off again right when the doors banged shut.
Draco cast a furtive look towards the dramatic entrée as perfume wafted delicately in his direction. Although her face was hidden by a mask, he could tell she was crying, her nose red and hair amok.
She trekked off to the other end the moment she spotted him, keen to put a bit of distance between the both of them, and continued weeping.
Draco turned back to look at the shrubbery that rioted in the balcony's garden, completely disinterested. It was expected that in a ball, people of lesser competence were rejected by others. She had probably dolled up for hours, only to be turned down by her crush. And it was none of his business, anyway.
However, he had trouble focusing on the flowers he was admiring. He blamed it on the ruckus the girl was making. He glanced back at her, eyes inquisitive and amused as he took another swig from his glass.
Although she was generally a mess, she wore an ostentatious evening gown that looked like molten gold. Her hair looked as though it had originally been pinned up in an elegant style, but now it was a shock of untidy pale brown hair sticking out of her head in all directions. She had obviously, Draco concluded, put in a lot of effort in her appearance.
It was not characteristic of him to do so, but he was compelled to make a snide remark. The girl, however innocent and despaired, just seemed deserving of it.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Granger! Victim of a lover's spat?
"Again?" he hastened to add.
The girl swiveled around to stare at him blankly, seemingly robbed of speech.
"Don't take it to heart, Mudblood. It's only natural that a boy with any common sense in his head would reject you. You just have to learn to get used to it."
"What," was her incredulous reply, "was that?"
A roguish grin played on Draco's face. Ooh, a sensitive spot.
"I said, GET USED TO IT, honey."
"What business has it got to do with you?"
Her voice was tremulous as she spoke.
"Oh, trust me," Draco replied, "the moment you stalked in and ruined my peace with your obnoxious sniveling, it became my business."
She looked positively agog. Shock was replaced with contempt the moment she laid eyes on his platinum-blonde hair.
"You!"
Draco's chest swelled with self-satisfaction.
"Me!" He mocked, his voice rising a few pitches.
"You – You better not ruin my night!" She warned. Even from where he was, he could feel the fury radiating from Hermione Granger.
"Doesn't look like I have to."
Hermione's eyes narrowed to slits. A hand, for a moment, hovered over her pocket, presumably where her wand was. The hand dropped.
"I'm not going to stoop to your level." She growled, pivoting on her heel and stalking off.
"Pity. I was hoping for some company." Draco sighed in mock disappointment.
No reply.
"So, how was it? Did he break it to you slowly, or was his rejection slapped smack into your face?"
"It's none of your business!"
"I'll take it was the latter?"
"No!"
"The former then! Either way you still weren't wanted, so why so fussy?"
"I wasn't rejected!"
"Tut tut. It's alright, Granger. Everyone gets –"
"I WASN'T!"
Draco sipped his pumpkin juice placidly as if they were having a chatter between old pals.
"Well, someone's being sensitive."
"Leave me alone, alright?"
Draco chuckled, spurring an absolutely exasperated glare from Hermione.
"Look – I'm tired, and frazzled. I am utterly devastated because I took almost forever to find a spell to fix my hair, I had to find the right gown, and I took hours to prepare for this stupid ball, only to find that the boy I've had a crush on for ages was frenching with another girl, my feet hurt from wearing these ridiculous heels and my make-up is smeared because I've been crying and let me reiterate that I am tired so I don't need this right now, alright!"
She drew in her breath with a long hiss, her eyes gleaming dangerously through the holes of her mask.
Draco merely stood and stared, not knowing what to make of this sudden show of vulnerability.
Even her glare was half-hearted, as if she were simply too exhausted to inject any real dose of vindictiveness into it. She turned her head away, tucking it in her hands as she placed her elbows on the railing.
The silence between them was saturated with music and sweet perfume. Draco inhaled sharply, and it wasn't because of the chilly air.
So this, Draco wondered, was the girl everyone was talking about.
A/N: I wrote this at 5am, so this is probably going to be edited a lot. Tell me what you think:)
