Dragonfly
Draco Malfoy slicked his hair back and secured his cuffs. Were it not for the promotion he knew was hanging in the balance, he would not be attending the ridiculous Ministry costume party. He stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment, and cursed his father for the looks that he had been given. If he had been ugly, his life would have been easier; he wouldn't have to pretend to give a damn about how he looked.
He pulled on the dragon mask and secured it behind his head. There. Now he looked dashing and unknown. Perfect. If only it covered his mouth. Then all he needed was to be able to breathe fire. Maybe he could set this manor on fire and walk away laughing as it burned. But that, of course, would never happen, because he was good, obedient Draco.
"Are you in here Drakie?" Asteria Greengrass poked her head around the corner. "Are you sure that you don't want me to come?"
He put on a smile for her. "It's fine dear. It'll be boring; you will have a much better time here."
She nodded, so easily swayed. "Of course dear. I'll see you tomorrow."
Asteria walked away; he listened as her high heels clicked on the floor. Draco drew a steading breath and disapperated. The atrium of the Ministry was decorated in purple velvets, crimson taffeta, and an orchestra played in a corner. Not one person was recognizable as themselves, and he knew that he was no exception. No one was giving him a wide berth, there were no eyes following him.
On the dance floor, the sway of skirts was predominant, but the skirts were nothing like Draco would have preferred. He wondered why so many females thought that the best way to attract a man was to remove the need for him to wonder at exactly what they looked like under the dress? Then one long gown caught his eye. The fabric was delicate and shimmery, and as his eyes traveled upward he saw that the woman that wore it was equally delicate. The dress showed off her miniscule waist. From her back protruded the double wings of a dragonfly. Her hair was caught up in a net accented with mother of pearl, and her face was hidden behind a dragonfly mask. She was perfect. A lovely diversion for the evening.
He approached her, and when he had her attention, he clicked his heels together and bowed low at the waist. "May I have this dance, Madam Dragonfly?" He asked when he rose.
She lifted her skirts slightly and curtsied. "You may."
Draco took her hand and led her into the crowd. He placed his hand at her waist and took the other in his own. They danced. "Would it be impudent of me to ask what the inspiration for your costume is?"
The woman smiled, and said, "It would be terribly impudent, but if you dare to ask, I shall answer you."
"Then, good Madona, what is the inspiration for your costume?" He lowered his voice into a smooth candor he used for luring women into his bed.
"The shop was out of butterfly costumes." She answered simply.
He laughed. All of that banter for such a simple answer. "If I may say so," he trailed his fingers over the waist of the gown, "This dress suits you much better than a butterfly would."
She said nothing, but under her mask, he saw traces of a blush. He pulled her closer as they continued to dance, and as he did, he caught her scent. It was intoxicating, lilies and roses, but there was a trace of something else he couldn't identify; he had smelled this scent before. Part of him recognized it, but hard as he tried, he could not put a name or a face to the scent.
"What is your name?" she asked, her lips millimeters away from his cheek.
Rather than answer her, and ruin her night, her swiveled his head and kissed her. Her lips were soft as velvet, and her hair, when he touched it, was silky. Her taste, he discovered, was even more intoxicating than her smell. He could lose himself in this woman.
"The music has stopped," she whispered breathlessly.
"Yes," Draco agreed. "And we've stopped dancing."
It was true. They now stood with a foot between them. And Draco couldn't stand it. Never before had he kissed a woman like that, not even Asteria, who thought she was in love with him. He took the woman's hand and pulled her away from the main body of the party into a draped off sitting area.
"And I suppose that you think that now I'm going to sit here and let you have your way with me," she whispered as he let go of her hand.
Draco smiled as she sat. "Absolutely." He walked to her and sat beside her. But he knew what she'd meant, and he knew that he would never do that to her. "Not."
They sat in silence for a long time, and then she stirred. "I should go."
Draco grabbed her arm. "No. Please, stay. You see, if you go, I have to go home, and that's not a good option . . ."
For surely one of Asteria's friends would have seen him with this woman and she would be waiting for him at home, ready to breath fire, though he'd be the one in the dragon suit.
The woman sat back down. "Tell me who you are." She said sternly.
Draco sucked in a breath. "I don't think I can do that without one more dance."
She smiled and he took her hand and pulled her close. Unlike the last dance, he wrapped his arm around her waist and savored the feeling of her body against his. "Why are we dancing here?" She asked.
"Because I don't like crowds." He ducked his head and kissed her throat. "And I could hardly do that in front of my coworkers and keep my self-respect."
Her voice was thick. "No, you would rather bring me into a sitting area no one can see into."
Draco pulled her more tightly against him. "Yes."
They twirled in their own world and Draco prayed the song did not end, because when it did, he had to show her who he was, and he would have to go home to a furious Asteria. But maybe she would call off the wedding . . . and he could pursue his dragonfly.
"The song is over, master dragon. It's your turn."
Draco stepped away from her. "I'll show you if you show me. I am quite interested to know who has bewitched me."
"Fine." She raised her chin.
Draco took a deep breath. "On three then. One," he began to undo his mask, "Two," he now held his mask on with his hand. "Three."
He pulled off his mask, and looked at his dragonfly. They stared at the last people they expected. She had changed so much in the years between Hogwarts and this night. No longer a scrawny, buck toothed, book worm, Hermione Granger was one of the most exquisite women he had ever see.
"You haven't run away yet," he whispered, awed.
"No," she whispered, "I haven't."
"Are you going to?" His heart was in his throat.
Hermione shook her head. Draco let out the breath he'd been holding. Then and there he decided he was tired of being obedient Draco. He loved this woman, and it had taken meeting her as a perfect stranger for him to see it. He wasn't about to let her slip away.
"Do you want to go to dinner?" he asked.
"I'd like that," She smiled and held out her hand.
"I just have to send an owl. It'll only take a moment." He had to break Asteria Greengrass's heart.
One Year Later
"Are you looking for anything in particular young man?" An ancient jeweler looked at Draco.
"I'll know it when I see it," he continued to scan the case of rings until he saw the perfect one. He pointed. "That one."
"That's a special ring,"The jeweler commented, taking the ring from the case. The band was yellow gold, with white diamonds set in the shape of a small dragonfly, and the creature's eyes were emeralds.
"Yes, it is." Draco took the ring. It was perfect for his lady dragonfly.