Dance Me to the End of Love
DISCLAIMER: This piece of writing in no way reflects the views or opinions of Joanne Rowling or Warner Bros. Studios. All events in the story are purely fictional, and any resemblance to any other works of fanfiction is purely coincidental.
Based on the Civil Wars song of the same name
He glanced idly once again at the enchanted wristwatch upon his wrist, the dark colours a sharp contrast against his shockingly pale skin. It was 7:51, exactly 11 minutes later than the time they had agreed to meet. The ball was due to start any minute now, and she still hadn't shown her face. This was odd, since something that they had in common was their love for punctuality, and he was well aware that she always arrived to class at least 10 minutes before it was due to start. She was probably just fixing her hair, or putting on some makeup, or some girly shit that he knew took girls hours to do from the many times his family had been late to pureblood functions and his mother had decided to change her dress at the last minute. Yeah, she was probably just finishing getting ready. She wouldn't be much longer.
He looked at the watch again. It was now 7:54, and the doors to the ballroom were about to be opened. Crowds of elegantly-dressed witches and wizards were surrounding the entrance. He began to grow impatient. Maybe she wouldn't show up. Merlin, he hoped that wasn't it. He had already taken enough shit from his friends because he had invited not only Potter's best friend to the ball, but also the girl he referred to on a regular basis as a filthy mudblood. He still couldn't comprehend it himself. He just remembered seeing her in the library talking to the Bulgarian twat, and a fit of jealousy had consumed him. He remembered stalking over to their table and asking her to the ball before Krum could, and agreeing to meet her in the courtyard 20 minutes prior to the start of the ball. But her not arriving after almost 15 minutes had convinced him that maybe this was some kind of sick joke, and she had only agreed to go with him to provide some source of entertainment for Scarface and Weaselbee, who were waiting inside the ballroom to laugh at him when he showed up alone. But he wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
He turned on his heel and began to storm away from the large courtyard at the entrance of the ballroom, but a soft voice called him back. "Draco?" He stopped in his tracks. How he heard it above the crowds was beyond him, but he could recognise the melodic tones of her voice anywhere. She had shown up. He turned around to greet her, but didn't quite expect to see the sight that beheld him. Hermione had abandoned her shapeless school robes, and instead a floaty periwinkle blue ball gown adorned her body, showing off her pale skin and slim figure. Her normally bushy brown hair had been tamed into an elegant twist on the back of her head, and her amber eyes were shining. She looked like that muggle princess that he had once read about. Cinderella, he thought. She looked like Cinderella.
He knew he should say something, as she was looking at him, her eyes wide with expectancy. "Uh, Hermione, you look…" he couldn't get his words out. His throat had dried up, and he wished for a shot of firewhisky to give him some Dutch courage. "You look incredible" he managed to stammer. Her eyes widened further, shocked at his simple compliment. "Oh, um, thank you" she replied. "Shall we go in?" he asked, and held out his hand, hoping she would take it and make him feel whole again. "We shall" she agreed, and placed her hand gently in his.
As they entered the ballroom, hand in hand, side by side, Draco instantly felt the eyes of every person in the room turn to look at them. In other situations, Draco would give a filthy look and utter some unpleasant words involving what they could look at instead, but he was with Hermione, so he simply turned the other cheek. He felt the slow burn of Hermione's golden eyes on the side of his face, anticipating his usual reaction to the excruciating stares. But he stayed put. He wanted to show her that things were different. He was different. They were now nearing the centre of the room, and Draco steered them over to the side, where a crowd was forming to welcome the Triwizard Champions and their partners into the room, where they would dance the first dance of the night. His hand only left Hermione's when the huge doors opened once again, and they were required to welcome the champions with a round of applause. First Krum, with some Beauxbatons skank that was wearing robes that left little to the imagination. He wondered how McGonagall let the girl in with that much cleavage. Then Fleur, who looked nice, but nowhere near as positively ethereal as Hermione beside him. Diggory had invited Cho Chang, a pretty Ravenclaw girl who wore robes of cream silk, with embroidered flowers. She looked nice as well. Potter was last, with Pavarti Patil on his arm. He stifled a sneer. But he was, after all, Hermione's friend, and he didn't want to ruin what he hoped was her improving opinion of him.
The champions stopped in a square formation, and the dance started, bringing with it the upbeat tempo of orchestral music. Couples gradually joined the four champions, but he and Hermione stayed on the side for the first dance, simply watching. When the first dance finished, a lot of couples exited the dancefloor, and sat down at tables, excited for the prospect of what he knew would be a tremendous feast. The music, as a result, slowed, and the remaining dancers gently adapted to the slow tempo by dancing a gentle waltz. He felt a sudden urge to grab Hermione's hand and drag her out onto the dance floor, showing her the advantages of his many formal dance lessons as a child. Instead, he took a more polite approach. "Hermione" he said her name softly. She turned to face him, and his heart skipped a beat. It was suddenly much more difficult to speak. "Would you like to dance?" he eventually stammered out. "Yes" she said, and held out her hand. Draco took it, and led her out onto the dancefloor. He placed his hand on her waist, and she stilled. He wondered if he'd done something wrong, but she placed her hand on his shoulder, and the pair started moving to the time of the song. He locked eyes with her, silvery grey to fiery gold, and knew that this wasn't something he could deny for much longer.
Hermione was surprised at Draco's dancing expertise. Of course, she shouldn't have been, since she had read in 'Ex Purissimis Sanguinibus: A Pureblood Family History in England' that children of prominent pureblood families were expected to attend lessons such as dance, archery and languages in order to gain valuable skills that would add notoriety to their already infamous families. Draco led the dance with such dominance, yet the movements were gentle, and she was able to follow him easily. The whole time, she couldn't tear her gaze away from his, the silvery-grey colour drawing her in like no other pair of eyes had before. They were so beautiful, with endless hidden depth, and she felt she could stare into them forever. She had been shocked at his invitation, to say the least, but looking into his eyes and feeling their bodies move in tandem to the beautiful music, she was glad she had accepted.
As soon as they reached the table, Draco pulled out a chair for her. That was sweet, she thought. But before she could sit down, she met the gaze of a furious Ron Weasley stomping towards her. He reached their table, and his hand flew back to hit Draco. She shouted for him to stop, but Draco's arm easily caught his before the shot connected. "Weasley" Draco said tersely. "Malfoy, you son of a bitch" Ron swore, and used his free hand to swing at Draco again. Like before, he blocked the shot with ease, and Ron was trapped. "I suggest you leave us alone, Weasley, unless you want to have to explain to Professor Sinistra why you can't look through a telescope in Astronomy class" Draco said, and dropped Ron's hands. Ron sneered at Draco, and looked at Hermione with distaste written all over his face. "I can't believe you're here with him, Hermione. Big bloody mistake" he spat out, and walked away, not looking back. Draco finally turned to look at Hermione, who was scarily still, her face pale. "Hermione?" he placed his hands on her arms, and looked into her eyes. Their colour had lightened, and tears were beginning to form. He took her hand, and without a word, led her out of the ballroom. As soon as they were outside, he heard Hermione sniff, and when he looked back at her, tears were flooding down her cheeks.
He quickly stopped them, and without thought, wrapped his arms around her shaking frame. He felt her body relax in his, and he too felt calm in her hold. In that moment, it didn't matter that he was a pureblood, and she was a muggleborn. It didn't matter that she was in Gryffindor, and he was in Slytherin. It didn't matter that they should be mortal enemies. All that mattered was the two of them, and that they could find comfort in each other. They stayed like that for a few minutes, before Draco heard Hermione's tears slow, and felt the soft tremors raking her body subside. He released her from his hold, and reached for the handkerchief in his pocket. He offered it to her, and she took it gratefully, offering him a small smile, and wiped her eyes. He looked at her, and suddenly realised that she didn't deserve any of the shit that he had given her over the past four years. She was a good person, and muggleborn or not, no one deserved that kind of mistreatment. He knew that after this, things would change between them. Hopefully for the better.