Title: Missed the Mark
Author: Lorelai Love Spencer-Meraz
Rating: T for mild swearing.
Prompt: "Cupid really needs to work on his aim."
A/N: Hello, readers! Recently, my muse has gone on a HP kick, and this is apparently the result! Please read and review, and if you have any suggestions, requests or anything like that (especially Hermione pairings), let me know!
Merlin, what the bloody hell is taking Pansy so long?
"Oy, Malfoy! What has your knickers in a twist?" Blaise Zabini called as he watched his friend pace at the bottom of the staircase in front of the Great Hall. "You look about as happy as someone who's waiting to find out if they get the Kiss or not."
Draco scowled and turned toward Blaise. "Parkinson's taking a bloody eternity," he growled out. "Almost as bad as my mum, that one, when it comes to getting ready. It's the bloody Yule Ball, not a Ministry function."
Blaise chuckled as he strode forward, clapping Draco on the back good-naturedly. "And that, mate, is why I didn't bother asking anybody; I get to enjoy the results, without wearing holes in the floor unlike certain lucky fools."
"Sod off, Zabini," muttered Draco, the venom in his tone not matching the mirth in his eyes.
Backing up a few paces, Blaise held up his hands in mock surrender. "Just saying, Malfoy, that you wouldn't be in this position if –" He paused, his eyes drifting north.
Draco followed Blaise's gaze to the top of the staircase. "Merlin's beard," he muttered, right before mentally kicking himself for letting his thoughts escape his lips. If his friend noticed the blasphemy, he didn't say.
She glided down the staircase with the grace of a queen, pale blue robes trailing behind her slightly. Her hair had been twisted into some ornate up-do, the only traces of what he was used to a twin set of tendrils that framed her face. As she stepped closer, he realized just how well the robes hugged her body, and he suddenly realized just how little justice the school robes did her.
Draco could count on one hand how many times he'd seen her smile the way she was tonight and in that moment, as she slid past him and Zabini without so much as a glance or a nod, he couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment.
- MM -
"You look really handsome tonight, Draco."
The Slytherin in question completely missed the shyness in Pansy's expression as she said this, the rosy hue of her cheeks as she broke her own cardinal rule and opened up just a touch. Instead, he was caught between glancing across the Great Hall at something and staring off into space. Had he been paying just a fraction more attention to Pansy, he would've seen her gaze harden.
"Ouch! Bloody hell!" Draco hissed as his toe throbbed.
"Damn! Sorry, Draco…you know I'm all left feet," Pansy said, trying to keep her voice as sweet as possible.
Left feet, my arse. "It's fine, Pans."
It took everything in Pansy to keep from rolling her eyes. I'm not a bloody kitchen tool! "You look really handsome tonight," she repeated.
Draco twirled them so they ended up facing the centre of the room, where other students were dancing about. "Thank you, Pansy. You look…lovely, " he said. And she was. Her emerald green robes stopped a few centimetres off the ground and complimented her eyes. Her hair was done in a simple style, part of her hair making a braid crown while the rest flowed down her shoulders. But no matter how hard Draco tried, he couldn't help but compare.
What the bloody hell is he looking – All at once, the air disappeared from Pansy's lungs as she finally saw what – or who, rather – kept taking him away.
At her gasp, he looked down, his eyebrows narrowing. "What's the matter?" Draco asked, his eyes roving over every part of her, searching for an injury.
"I'm fine," Pansy said, trying to keep her voice from breaking. "I just…I'm not feeling well. I…I'm going back to the dormitory."
Damn it, Draco thought. "I'll go back with you – "
"NO!...I mean, no…that's fine." Before Pansy could do anything to prevent it, tears began streaming down her face. "Stay here…have fun," she spat. "I can take care of myself." She turned and started to storm away, only to find that Draco was holding fast to her wrist.
"Pans, for Merlin's sake, what's with you?"
"What's with me? What's with you, Draco Malfoy?" Her gaze traveled to where Draco's had been most of the evening before wrenching herself free of him and racing out of the Great Hall.
"Great," murmured Draco to himself. "Just fuckin' perfect."
What was supposed to be one of his greatest nights at Hogwarts was going up in smoke.
- MM -
What a bloody disaster.
This was supposed to be the most magical night of her life.
At least it should've been, by fairytale standards. And given that they lived in a world chock full of magic, it shouldn't have just been a fairytale! She had her prince, she'd turned into a princess but instead of being wrapped up in the arms of her beloved, she was alone at the 'bar' (which was really a butterbeer stand), having been abandoned when Viktor went to chat with some of his Durmstrang peers nearly an hour ago.
But to be honest, he seemed agitated almost from the moment they walked into the blasted Hall; every so often, she'd catch him glancing over her shoulder, pure contempt written on his face. She didn't think anybody – let alone her Viktor – could scowl more than Malfoy, but she'd been wrong.
"What's wrong, Granger? Did you and that oaf, Krum, finally get lost in translation?" Draco asked, smirking when Hermione flinched as he pulled a barstool out and took a seat.
Think of the devil and he'll bloody well show up, Hermione thought, thoroughly kicking herself for being caught unaware. "Of course not," she said frostily. "Not that it's any of your business."
"Oh, did I hit a nerve, Granger?" His titanium grey eyes roved over every part of her and Hermione had to steel herself to keep from fidgeting. In an effort to distract herself (and to keep the red from rushing into her cheeks), she glared at her glass of butterbeer that had remained untouched.
"You wish, Malfoy," she spat. Her glare moved from her glass to his face. "Like you're one to talk – where's your date? Did she finally realize just who she was with and run away screaming, or did she get crushed under your bigger than a house ego?"
Normally, such a comment would've made Draco's hackles rise, but tonight he surprised both Hermione and himself by simply smirking at her. "Quite feisty tonight, aren't you, Granger? Even more than usual. Not many men can handle that…maybe you scared Krum away."
Hermione snorted. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Hate to burst your bubble, but he's not afraid of me."
"Of course he is. If he wasn't, you wouldn't be sitting at a damn butterbeer stand, would you?" he said, having the prudence to not add the 'with me' he was thinking of.
As much as Hermione didn't want them to, Draco's words struck a chord that she'd been trying to ignore all night. Her eyes narrowed and her hands shook as the rage began to boil in her blood. In an instant, she was on her feet, her face right in front of Draco's. "What about you?"
He could barely breathe, completely mesmerized by the fire blazing in her big, brown eyes. "Wh – what about me, Granger?" he asked. If Hermione noticed, she didn't say. Instead, her lip curled into a sardonic smirk. "You say I'm here because I scared Viktor away…what about you then? Maybe Parkinson realized what a vile, loathsome cockroach you really are and that's why you're here at a butterbeer stand, antagonizing the Mudblood you hate so much."
Draco flinched, but instead of relishing her foe's discomfort, Hermione backed away so he wouldn't see the tears filling her eyes. "Sod off, you miserable bastard." With that, she turned and darted out of the Great Hall.
– MM –
Draco waited all of a minute before rushing out of the hall. If there was ever a miracle to be thankful for, it's Potter and Weasel having dates, he mused as he sped past the remaining two-thirds of the trio, unnoticed, into the corridor that preceded the Great Hall.
He looked around the corridor, and was just about to dash off on a mad search for Hermione when he suddenly heard rapid clacking coming from in front of him. I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be grateful for high heels, he mused as he glanced up at the stairs and noticed a flash of blue from her robes.
"Granger! Granger!" Instead of slowing, Hermione's steps got faster and faster, until she was practically trotting up the stairs. Not to be outdone, Draco did everything he could to match her pace. "Damn it, Granger," he muttered, reaching out to grab her wrist at the top of the stairs. "Would you stop for a bloody second?"
"Let me go, Malfoy!" she hissed.
"No, Granger…not until you hear what I have to say." The Gryffindor Princess shot him a look that was sorrowful and angry, her shoulders slumping in defeat when he wouldn't release her arm no matter how much she pulled.
Draco decided then and there that he hated that look.
"I…" The sadness, rage and unshed tears in her eyes made a painful lump rise in his throat, choking him. "You're absolutely right," he finally murmured. "I am a miserable bastard. Because…because as much as I've tried, I can't get you out of my bloody mind."
"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, the sorrow in her eyes replaced with mistrust and confusion.
"If I said I didn't just see blood status before, I'd be lying. But tonight…I mean, most other days, but especially tonight…all I see is this beautiful, powerful, enchanting woman who makes me lose my bloody mind."
Before he could stop himself, his free hand reached up and caressed Hermione's cheek, which warmed almost instantly under his touch. "You're infuriating…intelligent…stubborn…majestic. And I'm a bloody miserable bastard because as much as I know that I shouldn't, that I couldn't…I want you more and more every day and there's nothing I can do about it." The last bit was whispered huskily, and if his voice wasn't enough to prove his sincerity, the look of lust and something she couldn't quite identify in his eyes, was. A single tear fell down her cheek and he hastily rubbed it away.
In an instant, her words from earlier came back to haunt her. "Draco, I –"
The rest of her words died the moment his lips crashed into hers. Never expected them to be so soft, she mused. Before she could scold herself into doing otherwise, Hermione's arms were wrapped around his neck and her mouth was moving in sync with his, giving Draco all the passion she didn't even know she had.
A groan escaped his lips, and her tongue darted deftly into his mouth, exploring him, wishing that the moment didn't have to end. Judging from the fervor with which he was kissing her back, he was wishing the same thing.
When they finally broke for air, Hermione found Draco smirking at her.
"What?" she asked.
"He's an idiot for letting you go, you know," Draco murmured. At her contemptuous look, he grinned. "I was too…but rest assured, it'll never happen again."
fin.