A/N: Inspired by #62: Prompt: "It's a Dance. And sometimes they turn the lights off in this ballroom. But we'll dance anyway, you and I. Even in the Dark. Especially in the Dark. May I have the pleasure?" -Stephen King for the 2015 Horror Fest on LJ.

Thank you so much to jenniseiblack, dragoon811, Krissy, and KyrieColors for being my amazing team of alphas and betas. Enjoy!

Warnings: Vampires, NonCon Elements, Bloodplay, Assault, Violence, Memory charms, Language.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.


We'll Dance Anyway, You and I

"So, are you going to go?"

Hermione looked up from her paperwork and saw Ginny leaning on her desk. "Go?"

"You know," Ginny said, arching her brow, "The Malfoy Masquerade Ball. I know you received an invite."

Hermione chewed on her lower lip. "I'm not sure, Ginny. I'm not really one for public events. You know that."

"But it's being held at Malfoy Manor," Ginny pressed. "Don't you want a chance to go? Even if it's just to snoop around."

She shrugged in response. She didn't want to appear too interested, but the thought of snooping around the Manor seemed worthwhile. If she found something on the Malfoy family, she was sure that it would get her promoted. She was sick and tired of all this tedious paperwork. She pushed the pile away from her.

"Please?" Ginny begged, a wheedling tone in her voice. She toyed with some of the items on Hermione's desk as she did her best doe eyes to convince Hermione to come. "We can go shopping for dresses and it'll be fun."

Hermione sighed, knowing that Ginny wouldn't let her be until she said yes. Looking up at her friend, she saw Ginny had an expectant air of excitement.
"Fine," Hermione replied, caving. "I'll go to the Masquerade Ball."

"Great!" Ginny exclaimed, a large smile on her face. "We just need to find you a date. I heard that Oliver Wood is in town. Maybe Harry could speak to him and—"

"No!" Hermione cried out, her eyes wide. The last thing she needed was Ginny setting her up with someone. That had the word 'disaster' written all over it. "No dates, Ginny. I'm going to go by myself."

"By yourself?" Ginny looked horrified at the very idea.

Hermione laughed. "Yes, by myself. A woman doesn't need to be escorted by a man everywhere she goes. If I absolutely had to have a date, I'd rather ask Ron as a friend than have a repeat of Slughorn's Christmas party my sixth year."

Ginny was about to make a retort but stopped when she saw that Harry had poked his head into the office. She beamed as she moved to kiss him.

"Ginny?" he asked, surprised. "What are you doing here? Did your coach let you out early for the day?"

"Bugging me," Hermione grumbled, returning to her paperwork. She needed to finish filing before she could leave for the day.

"I wasn't bugging her," Ginny said defensively, throwing a playful glare at Hermione. "I was just talking to her about the Malfoy Masquerade Ball. She's going to come. And yes, since we have a match coming up, Jones thought we could all use a rest."

"Are you going to come?" Harry asked. When Hermione nodded, he grinned. "Nice. Shall we snoop around?"

"Of course!" Hermione said, smirking. "Just like old times."

"We always manage to find some kind of trouble." Harry smiled as happy thoughts of locking the Malfoys away appeared in his mind.

"When do you want to go shopping? How about Thursday afternoon? That way Albus and James can stay at the Burrow for the night instead of me picking them up in the afternoon like usual," Ginny smiled.

"That's fine," Hermione said. Her schedule was usually pretty open. Maybe she could take some work home to make time? "I'll see you then."

"See you Thursday," Ginny said, kissing Harry on her way out of the office.

Harry dropped off some reports before chasing after his wife, leaving Hermione alone once more.

Hermione looked at the mounds of paperwork and sighed. She should really be looking forward to the ball. Unfortunately, she was not: or at least not the shopping.


Time passed quickly, and soon it was the evening of the Malfoy Masquerade Ball. It was Hermione's first time attending a Masquerade ball, and she found she was both nervous and excited. Her afternoon spent being shoved into dress after dress had paid off in the scarlet ball gown that accentuated the curves she did have, rather than forcibly creating them through creative tailoring. She rather liked the sweetheart neckline. Her hair was pulled back in a fancy up-do that she spent hours doing herself, and the black lace Colombina mask she had picked out fitted over her face comfortably. She had picked this mask on purpose, remembering her mother once telling her that the Colombina was for a woman who wasn't afraid to let her personality shine through. Hermione thought it was fitting. Earrings sparkled in her ears as she applied her bright red lipstick.

She smiled at herself in the mirror. "I do look rather nice. I'll have to thank Ginny for picking out this dress." She glanced at Crookshanks, laughing when he looked at her blankly.

After double-checking that her wand was secure in the hidden holster on her leg, Hermione caught up her clutch and Apparated to the gates of Malfoy Manor. There were people everywhere.

Unable to recognise anyone under their masks, Hermione slowly made her way through the crowd and into the Manor. Once inside, she headed towards the ballroom and took a glass of champagne from an offered tray. She took a sip and sighed happily. Delicious.

"Now, where are Harry and Ginny?" she whispered quietly to herself, her eyes scanning the ballroom for Ginny's distinctive red hair. She knew the two had to be there somewhere, but couldn't spot either of them. She watching the ballroom doors for several minutes, growing antsy and uncomfortable.

Perhaps she should look around without Harry. She was sure that there were so many guests no one would notice her slip away.

She looked around the ballroom one last time to see if she could find her friends. When she didn't, she let out a sigh. All right, fine. She would look about on her own.

"Not having fun?" a voice behind her asked. She startled, nearly dropping her glass of champagne.

Turning, Hermione saw a blond man dressed in what appeared to be very expensive dress robes leaning against a column. A Domino mask adorned his face and his eyes looked like liquid smoke. He smiled at her, causing chills to run up her spine. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

He was watching her expectantly, and Hermione realised he was waiting for an answer.

"Oh, I'm having fun," she replied, blushing. "I was looking for my friends, but I can't seem to find them in this crowd."

He cocked his head at her. "Is that why aren't you out there dancing?" He took a small step towards her.

Hermione took a sip of her champagne. Something about him was both familiar and unnerving. Who was he? "Social functions make me uncomfortable."

"Why?" His eyes bore into hers before his gaze raked over her.

"There are just so many people," she found herself saying with a shrug. "I suppose I'm afraid."

"Afraid?" he asked, a smirk on his face. "It's a dance. And sometimes they turn the lights off in this ballroom. But we'll dance anyway, you and I."

"Even in the Dark?" Hermione asked, bemused.

"Especially in the Dark. May I have the pleasure?" He held his hand out to her, his eyes smouldering.

Hermione's heart pounded in her chest. He had asked her to dance. Should she say yes? Her mind said no, but her body ignored the debate going on in her mind and Hermione placed her hand in the stranger's outreached palm.

He grinned victoriously and pulled her close to him, taking her champagne glass with his free hand and handing it to a nearby member of the wait staff. He then led her to a small alcove off of the ballroom, where he placed one hand on her waist and began to dance. His eyes never left hers.

"What did you mean back there?" she asked, hypnotised by his intense gaze. She flushed. No one had ever looked at her in such a heated way before.

He grinned. "By what?"

"All of it," she murmured quietly. "Dancing in the dark? Why would they turn the lights off during a ball? That doesn't make any sense."

"Does it need to?" he countered.

Hermione was confused by his evasiveness. "You said it, not me. I was only wondering…" she trailed off, almost forgetting what she was saying. She blinked and shook her head, trying to clear her mind.

"You said we'd dance anyway," Hermione said. Her body swayed with his as he moved them around to the strains of the orchestra. "What did that mean? Or does that not matter, either?"

His smokey gaze darkened. "I've watched you for a long time, Hermione. I've wanted you. I knew tonight would be the night I'd make you mine, the night I'd claim you."

Something wasn't right. She attempted to pull away but his grip was like iron. "Claim me? Make me yours? Just who do you think you are?"

Suddenly, the lights in the ballroom went out. There was a murmur of surprise from the crowd before applause broke out.

Hermione let out a shriek as the stranger pulled her close. He chuckled in her ear. She flinched away from his breath as she pushed on his chest. "I told you, Granger, we'd dance in the dark." She struggled against him but it was futile – he was too strong. His arms caged her against him.

They swayed back and forth in the darkness. She futilely tried to quell her rising panic.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice shaking. She cursed herself for agreeing to dance with him despite her unease. She should have known better.

"Come now, Hermione," he said with a mocking sneer, his lips brushing against her ear. "How could you not know who I am? I'm hurt."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know."

"You're in my home."

"Draco?" she breathed, surprised. "I…I don't understand."

"I've wanted you for a while. When I heard that you would be here, I knew it was my chance. I knew Potter would force you to come along. He always makes you."

"Your chance? What could you possibly want from me?" Her heart hammered in her chest, as his arms tightened around her painfully. "Let me go, Draco. I want to leave."

"No." His voice was a murmur as he dipped his mouth to her neck. "You're afraid. I can feel your heart racing. Do I make you nervous?"

"Of course you do," she snapped angrily. "You won't let me go and you said you're going to claim me. I'd be foolish not to be afraid." She let out a small shriek as he dipped her low.

"But you feel it, don't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Hermione vaguely wondered why no one was freaking out about the lights being out. The orchestra continued to play, and she wondered if everyone was still dancing.

"You look beautiful when you're afraid."

Her eyes widened and she stared blindly into the dark where his face should be. Draco twirled her around. She stumbled blindly, the flare of her gown brushing against something. "I… you can't see me."

"Oh, but I can."

She shivered as he pulled her back into his arms. "H-how? How is that possible? It's pitch black, there's no way…"

"You smell beautiful," Draco murmured, ignoring her statement. He nuzzled at her neck. "Your blood…"

"What the fuck!" she cried, feeling something sharp prick her neck. She pushed ineffectually at Draco, screaming.

Suddenly, the pain was gone. "Don't bother screaming," he told her in a smug voice. "There's a charm around us, one that my godfather invented. I know you're familiar with it." She heard Draco chuckle. "You taste amazing."

The realisation slammed into her. He could see in the dark… And he just bit her…

"Ah, your pulse just increased. Did you figure it out, Hermione?"

"You're a vampire," she whispered, both fascinated and terrified all at once. "Oh, Merlin, Draco, how did that happen?"

"After the war, while I was studying abroad in Bolivia. Since I returned, you've been all I wanted. I caught a sniff of you while at the Ministry. Heavenly." He nuzzled her neck. "Exquisite."

She let out a nervous laugh, trying to twist a hand free to reach her leg holster. "Well, you've had a taste so I'll just be on my way."

"No," Draco growled. "I need more."

"Please," she cried. "I don't want to die."

He laughed. "Oh, Hermione, I won't kill you. I plan to enjoy you for a very long time."

"What? No! Get away from me!" She began to struggle against him in earnest once more.

Draco spun her and Apparated them to a different room. The lights were almost too bright after straining to see in the dark for so long.

Hermione felt her mask being ripped off of her face. Eyes watering, she looked up and saw that Draco was peering at her, his eyes burning with desire. She reached for her wand but wasn't fast enough.

In the blink of an eye, Draco had her pinned to the mattress, his teeth in her neck. She kicked and screamed and pulled at his hair and clothing, but it was no use.

"Get off me!" she screamed, her knee going straight into his groin. Draco paid no attention to her struggles. He continued to drink her blood, the pain radiating outwards from where he was latched. It felt as if her neck was on fire.

As she fought against him, Hermione tried everything she could think of, but it didn't matter. Draco was simply too strong.

He drank her blood savagely. Soon, she became too weak to struggle against him between sobs. Her arms could no longer respond to her command to try and push him off, and she found it difficult to breathe as black edged her vision.

"Please," she croaked out. "Draco."

Draco stopped and she felt herself teeter on the edge of unconsciousness. "Fuck, Hermione," he sighed, her blood dripping from his mouth. It landed on her scarlet dress, matching the fabric. "I'm sorry." In his haste, he had almost killed her.

"I…" She closed her eyes, succumbing to the dark.

Draco stared down at her still body. He cleaned himself up and grabbed his wand. Picking Hermione up, he Apparated them to her flat. He was careful to avoid that blasted cat of hers - the last time he was there it had attacked him quite viciously.

Once there, Draco tucked her into her small bed. He pointed his wand at her. "Obliviate."

After wiping her memories of him, he smirked down at her sleeping form.

He paused, glancing at the mirror on her dresser. Pointing his wand at it, he enchanted it so he would now be able to watch her from his room at the manor. She would never know.

"Until next time, Granger."


Hermione awoke quite groggy. She reached up and touched her messy hair. It seemed she had fallen asleep with the pins still in. She looked around her sunlit bedroom and frowned in confusion. How did I end up here?

Glancing around the room, Hermione noticed her dress was thrown on the floor. She must have taken it off in her inebriated state. And apparently, I was too drunk to put clothes on. She was only wearing her bra and knickers.

Eventually, the sound of someone knocking on her door forced her to get out of bed. Summoning her robe, she shuffled slowly towards her door and opened it.

Ginny was standing there, her hands on her hips. "You didn't answer your Floo this morning, so I decided to just come here. I had to knock four times. What took you so long?"

"Come in," Hermione said hoarsely, turning away. She was too tired for Ginny's nagging. "Sorry, Ginny, I feel awful. I'm making tea, do you want some?"

"What happened last night? Did you even go to the Ball?" Ginny asked, seating herself at Hermione's kitchen table. "I looked everywhere for you." Concern twisted her face as she realised Hermione's dishevelled appearance.

"I was there," Hermione replied. "I remember looking for you and dancing with someone, but I don't remember much else."

Ginny laughed. "Hermione Granger, did you black out?"

Hermione gave a small shrug. "I must have. I did drink quite a bit of champagne."

"The champagne was delicious," Ginny gushed. "And all the dresses were amazing. Did you see some of the gowns? Breathtaking." Ginny smiled wistfully. "Were you there when they turned out the lights for a bit? I'll admit, it was a bit romantic. Harry and I slow danced during it."

"I don't remember that," she said, frowning.

Ginny shook her head. "You seriously drank too much. But then again, Hermione, this isn't the first time you've over-indulged at a Malfoy party. After you finish your tea, you should get some more rest."

"I definitely will. My head is killing me."

Hermione drank her tea in silence as she listened to Ginny describe every moment of the ball. Apparently, she and Harry had snuck into the gardens for some kisses. As she listened, Hermione couldn't help but wish she remembered her night, too.

"Go get some rest," Ginny said gently, placing her hand atop Hermione's to gain her attention. "You obviously haven't been listening."

She frowned. "I'm sorry, Ginny. Thank you for coming over to check on me. I'll be sure to Floo you once I'm feeling better." She hugged Ginny tightly.

"I hope you feel better," Ginny told her sincerely. "I'll bring over some soup later if you'd like."

"Yes, please," Hermione said, stifling a yawn. She saw Ginny to the door and then stumbled sleepily to her room. Once there, she crawled into bed and promptly fell asleep, not knowing that a silver-eyed demon watched her through her now-enchanted mirror.