Chaser 2 of Pride of Portree;
Prompt : A metaphor AND an example of foreshadowing
Optional Prompts : (song) 'Jingle Bell Rock'; (object) a sparkly suit; (quote) "These trousers are a little short, don't you think?" - John Abruzzi, Prison Break
Disclaimer : This sleep deprived beight own Harry Potter not
Word count : Over 1000
A/N : Time is a concept that doesn't exist. It will already be 2017 somewhere before I post this. Fics are written by sleep deprived humans. Enjoy this christmas-y Dramione fic. (I'm going back to sleep)
The Great Hall was filled with the sound of laughter and music as the residents of Hogwarts enjoyed its annual Christmas ball. Strips of gold seemed to fall from the ceiling before turning into glittering dust that was moved around the hall by an unexplainable wind. Unexplainable, that was, if you were a Muggle. The partygoers knew, of course, that such an event was caused by the magic of the castle itself. The jolly atmosphere was evident on the faces of the many dancing students and teachers in their fancy gowns and suits. That was not to say that everyone was dancing; there were a few oddballs sitting at their tables and glaring at the dancers.
Draco Malfoy was one of them.
He was sat at the table, drinking what passed for punch around here. The possibility of it being tampered with by the Weasley twins—or Blaise—was higher than it usually was (as the celebration was heavily attended), but he was willing to risk it. The stronger the better, as his father might have said. He would need all the alcohol he could get to stop him from starting a fight with the people sitting across from him. Why was he sitting at the same table as Scarhead and Weasel again? Oh, right, he was dating 'the Bookworm', the last third of the 'Golden Trio'. In the past, he might have used a more derogatory adjective, but the threat of 'sleeping on the sofa' (as Hermione would say) was too high for him to do such a thing. The fact that Hermione also happened to have a mean right hook had absolutely nothing to do with it.
He was also not denying anything.
His musings were cut short by the aforementioned right hook colliding with his shoulder.
"Hey, what did I do?" he asked while rubbing his arm.
"'What did I do?' he asks. Well, excuse me, Mister I'm-too-good-for-you-peasants, but some of us came here to have fun and not just sulk around," said Hermione, glaring at him.
Draco put his fakest smile on and pointed at her two companions whilst looking her right in the eyes. "Well, some of us have no choice in being stuck here with the dullest people on the planet! And before you start, yes, I did agree to this, but only because you practically blackmailed me into doing so."
"Now, that's just exaggerating. I did not blackmail you! I merely hid your hair products until you agreed."
"You have no shame whatsoever, do you?"
"Need I remind you of last year's incident with the sparkly suit?"
"I thought we agreed not to speak of it ever again. That was all Blaise's idea, anyway. Besides, anything sounds like a good enough idea when alcohol is involved. While we're on that note, there seems to be a glass of 'punch' calling my name on the refreshments table. So, if you'll excuse me..." And with that, he got up and walked over to the refreshments table, leaving an annoyed Hermione behind.
It wasn't long before she followed him there and carried on telling him that he should join in the festivities.
He rolled his eyes at the title of one of the songs she mentioned—Jingle Bell Rock. What a ridiculous name! He could already imagine the imbeciles in the room enjoying it and dancing to it.
The thought of joining in made him shudder.
"Draco—"
But Draco cut Hermione off. "I will not be dancing to a song called Jingle Bell Rock, not even if you paid me one thousand Galleons."
Hermione smirked. "You jinxed it."
Draco scoffed. "I highly doubt I'll be dancing to Jingle Bell Rock. It sounds monstrous."
"You've never even heard it!"
"The title is bad enough."
Just then the song in question began to play, and Hermione, thinking fast, made a bet with Draco, and when he lost it, she asked him to dance as a forfeit.
As he danced with Hermione, he was conscious of the looks he was getting from the people who were seated at the tables. Seeing the two of them together still resulted in expressions of bewilderment on the faces of their fellow students. The professors seemed to have already known about it before they realized it themselves. People always did say that they bickered like an old married couple. He turned his attention back to his dancing partner and found himself unable to look away. Hermione had always been strangely beautiful—even when he had seen her as nothing more than a Mudblood—but looking at her now, with those smooth curls flying through the air as he spun her around and that sparkling smile, she had never looked more beautiful. She glanced up at him then, her mouth going down into the frown he often saw on her face when she faced a mystery of sorts.
"What are you looking at, mister?" she asked with an adorable—to him—tilt to her head.
"The most beautiful girl in this room." He smirked when she started laughing.
"Laying on it thick, are we? Never knew you could be a charmer."
"I'm a Malfoy; we are perfect in everything!" The sentence caused her to laugh even harder than before, much to his annoyance. Well, others would call it annoyance, but to the few that knew him, it was obvious that he was having fun.
"He looks so happy," a small blonde in a shimmering silver gown said to her companion.
"Indeed he does. If I knew that all it would take for the two of them to get together was a locked cupboard, I would have done that years ago. Ah, so many years of sleepless nights listening to him whining about her, and look at them now!"
"They do look lovely. The great bumblebee and I always knew the dragon and the otter would end up together. It was only a matter of when and where."
"The great bumblebee… Dumbledore knew!? How come you never told me that?" exclaimed Theo.
"Where did you think I got the cupboard idea from, the Nargles?" She sipped her drink calmly as she waited for the upcoming outburst.
"You did not just say that; I did not just hear you say that! Luna? Luna, where are you going?"
"I am going to dance, Theo. I would be delighted if you were to join me. Though, Neville does look a bit lonely standing there in the corner. Oh, look, there's a mistletoe as well; do you think that's where all the Nargles came from?"
"A mistletoe! Oh, no, you're not going anywhere. You wanted to dance, so we're going to dance!"
Luna just smiled and took his hand as he led her to the dance floor.
Draco was happy to get back to their table when the song ended. As nice as the dancing had been, he had to retain some pride. It wouldn't do for people to think that he enjoyed Muggle music. His mother would have a heart attack if such a thing were to happen.
He could see Blaise hovering around Weaslette and tried to contain his laughter. "These trousers are a little short, don't you think?" he called out. And really, they were. Girls wore short skirts longer than those.
Blaise turned to face him. "Draco! Hello to you as well. Isn't it a lovely evening we're having? Why, yes, I am drunk, and yes, these trousers are short. But in my defence, it was either this or that tacky dress, and we both know I look terrible in orange."
"Why would you even… No, wait, I don't want to know. Why are you even here?"
"Oh, that? You see, Weaslette and I had a bet. Long story short, I lost, and now I have to wear this and act as her personal butler for the night. Trust me, it could have been worse; she let me off easy. Where's Granger, anyway? Weren't you just dancing with her?"
Draco nodded, and let his eyes wander over to the table where Hermione was chatting with her friends. She was laughing at something that Ron had said—knowing him, it was probably as funny as plain parchment. "I was, and she's right there," said Draco, nodding in her direction. She saw him and made her way over to them.
"I didn't know you enjoyed Muggle music," said Blaise, and although his tone was light, Draco could hear the underlying smugness.
He willed his face not to flush as he said: "No, I do not."
Unfortunately, Blaise had asked that question just as Hermione had moved to stand beside him, and she had heard his answer clearly.
"What do you mean, you don't enjoy it? You were just dancing like there was no tomorrow!"
This time, Draco's face did flush, and Hermione, with her ever keen eyes, noticed—and laughed. He shook his head, trying to keep his face straight as Blaise joined in, but soon enough, he too let out a small chuckle.
As the three of them calmed down, Luna, who was being spun around by Theo, said, "See, it's completely obvious. I should not have had to tell you."