It was a dare. How could he back down? Certainly if he refused to go through with it all of his friends would read far too deeply into his reaction, and perhaps even accuse him of feeling something ridiculous, something akin to, well, romantic interest. But he had tried to liberate himself from the dreadful task anyway by saying something characteristically snotty,
"Ugh! Ask the mudblood? Even for the sake of a laugh, Goyle, I would never sully my image by letting her think for a second that I might have interest in her!"
"Aw com'on Malfoy, it'll be a real gas to see her reaction!"
"No. I will not do something so ridiculous."
"Whats'a'matter Malfoy?"
And just as anticipated, Crabbe spoke the dreaded words,
"Yea Malfoy, ya got a crush on the mudblood or somethin'?"
Everyone sniggered. With a sigh Draco realized that he would have to do it. He had to march over to Hermione Granger who was currently sitting in the middle of the library, and in front of everyone in study hall ask if she would accompany him to the Yule Ball. It was his dare first. Draco had dared Theodore Nott to do it, and everyone thought it was a grand idea. Hermione would either be furious at being approached in the first place, or think Nott was serious and appear flattered, at which point he would humiliate her in front of everyone by saying something horrible like,
"You thought I was serious Mudblood? Eck! Who would want to go with someone so ugly and filthy as you?"
Either reaction was sure to bring amusement to all the Slytherins present, and perhaps cause the Gryffindors to start a fight on behalf of their beloved golden girl, which would earn them all detentions from Snape, who was presently monitoring the study hall with a leery eye. What Draco hadn't figured on was someone thinking it would be even funnier if Draco were the one to ruin the bushy-haired princess's day. Everyone knew how much they hated each other. Draco never missed an opportunity to harass Hermione, and she could spit insults back at him like a bar wench from Diagon Alley. Their verbal battles were famous, and everyone waited anxiously for the day that one or the other was hexed into oblivion. Of course Draco should be the one to do it, it only made sense. But why then, was he hesitating? No one would possibly think he was serious; he was Draco Malfoy, the bloody king of pureblood sons! And she was Hermione Granger, the unusually brilliant and talented, and recently rather pretty, but no less Muddy-blooded witch that lived to annoy him. Or perhaps he lived to annoy her? In fact, Draco realized that he couldn't figure out if she provoked him, or he, her. And worse still, why was he so focused on putting Hermione at the center of his wickedness? Why didn't he devote the same devious energy to torturing Pottey or Weaslebee? Didn't they annoy him equally as much as she did? And weren't they each an equal third of the golden trio? They were both just as easy to pick on; the Weasel hadn't owned a new pair of robes since he was too small to fit in his brothers hand-me-downs, and he was remarkably dense- the chance of him even understanding he was being insulted was slim, which made it all the more amusing. And Potter was the 'boy who lived'- that was the gift that kept giving. And both boys would be much more easily riled than the steadfast Granger; on most occasions she only glared at Draco and proceeded to ignore his insults. When he did rouse her ire, she cursed him out like a professional and stormed off. But even then she was rational and cool-headed, nothing like how the boys would react. On the receiving end of Draco's nasty remarks, Potter or Weasley would be bursting to throw their fists around, probably whine as loud as a mandrake, and lay an egg in all the fuss. And yet Draco chose to irritate Hermione, whose comebacks were almost too quick for Draco to catch. It was strange that he should be so fixated on her, did anyone else notice it? Could it be that he might harbor some strange sort of attraction for her, the way some people are attracted to poisonous pets? Impossible. And yet, maybe… Well it was now or never, and never would mean ridicule.
Draco started up, "Oy, Granger!" he called out as he approached.
"What on earth do you want Malfoy?" she replied with a sigh, and didn't even glance up from her parchment.
Draco froze. He couldn't quite find the words he needed to say next. He knew that everyone in the room was now looking at him. The Slytherins watched with interest, smirks alighting many of their faces, while the Gryffindors became instantly defensive, glaring at him menacingly, waiting for him to make his next move. He was silent for a second too long.
"Is there something you want Malfoy? Like a long-overdue beating perhaps?" Weasley broke the silence.
"Yea, and you're going to give it to me Weasel? Huh? Just shut your bloody mouth, I'm here to speak with Granger!"
"Hey Malfoy! Why don't you just shove it…" Ron started to reply, when Hermione cut him off.
"Ron! I can handle the ferret just fine on my own, thank you!" she sounded rather annoyed. "What is it ferret?"
She turned to look at Draco, and on her face was a mix of displeasure at having been interrupted in her studies and, was that curiosity he saw? Could she be intrigued by what Draco had to say? He looked into her eyes and quickly looked away, he could never make direct eye contact with her, for some reason it unseated all his courage, unmanned his tough-guy image. Recognizing he had the attention of the whole room on him, he prepared to deliver a snarky and discourteous invitation to the Yule Ball, wrapped up with some comment about her bushy hair and big teeth, when he made the mistake of looking back into her eyes. He blushed just enough for her to notice a tinge of pink at the apples of his cheeks and said,
"I have come to ask you to accompany me to the Yule Ball. Er, as my, uh, date."
The entire study hall gasped collectively and went silent. At the Gryffindor table, mouths hung open in astonishment, but when Draco turned to the Slytherin table he noticed that very few people were still sniggering, in fact most wore the same expression as the Gryffindors. The air felt charged and hot, and he could feel the tips of his ears burning. Had he been too convincing? Did he sound serious? He turned to look back at Hermione, whose mouth hung open with the rest of them. Now was the time to drop the hammer, to let loose an insult that would pull them both back down to earth, that would cause the Slytherins to howl with laughter and the Gryffindors to cry out with anger, and Hermione to curse him out, and Snape to issue detentions and incinerate house points like a rampaging Norwegian Ridgeback. Hermione must know what was coming, and she hated him. But instead of a look of disgust, she wore an expression of anticipation and calm, all save for the mouth still gaping open in surprise.
"Well, do you have anything to say?" He asked. He couldn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth.
Hermione slowly closed her lips, swallowed carefully and began to reply, so quietly that Draco thought he had mistaken what she said.
"Yes, I would like to go with you to the Ball."
With that, shouts of disbelief rang out from the Gryffindors, who were clearly not in on the would-be joke. The Slytherins were motionless, waiting for the inevitable vicious slight that would come barreling out of Draco's mouth any second now. Of course he was just playing his part really well, to build the anticipation and make Hermione's inescapable humiliation even more poignant, right? Hermione gave Draco a faint smile, and ignoring the shrieks and moans of her friends, sat down and turned her attentions back to her parchment. Draco stood behind her a second longer, stunned at what had just happened. He had asked Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball, and she had agreed to go with him. She actually said yes! Draco wrestled with the smile threatening to break out over his face, turned abruptly and walked out of the study hall. The rest of the Slytherins sat bewildered at the table, finally realizing that the anticipated joke was not coming. Draco Malfoy had lost his mind and asked the know-it-all mudblood to the Ball. The Gryffindors were equally confounded; how could Hermione Granger have agreed to go to the Ball with the most stuck-up, bigoted ferret in the school? They tried to reason with her, but she wouldn't reply. She ignored all of their desperate remarks and anxious inquisition, finished her work, and left the hall. Draco was waiting for her in the corridor.
"So shall I meet you outside the Gryffindor common room around 8 pm, Mudblood?"
"That would perfect, Ferret."
And with that they both smirked and parted ways.