Written for the Quidditch Fanfiction League Round 8
Prompts – K-pop Song - Rumour by KARD. Theme - falling prey torumours [Colour] Aquamarine. [Dialogue] "I believe you. But I believe everybody else too." [Theme] Falling in love with the wrong person/thing.
Rating – T
Word Count – 1477
Thanks to Adi, Audrey, Quinn, and Victoria for betaing.
Hermione stared at Ron blankly, trying to conceal the hurt she was feeling.
"Really, Ron?" she asked incredulously. "You're going to believe him over me?"
Ron shrugged plainly, with a hint of shame. "I believe you. But I believe everybody else too."
1 year ago
Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny had all been invited to the annual Brooks ball. The ball had been created sixty-seven years ago by Fay Brooks to celebrate the coming together of the Brooks family and the Well family. But the two families had died long ago in a tragic bombing accident in 1958. So now the ball continued in honour of the two families.
"Hermione!" Ron called up the stairs, tapping his foot impatiently. "We're going to be late!"
He glanced at Harry, seated next to him on a common room couch, waiting for a reaction. Harry simply shrugged.
"She's been up there for ages," Ron said. "Aren't you worried about what she's doing?"
"Ginny says she's putting on makeup. It seemed reasonable."
"Yes, but it's Hermione. Putting on makeup for hours? Don't tell me you believe it."
"She's probably making sure she looks perfect for Draco," Harry snickered, sharing a knowing look with his friend.
Draco and Hermione had been going out for a month now ever since Draco had saved Hermione from falling off her broomstick in their flying lesson.
"I can't believe they're going out. One moment, she's screaming at him and the next they're making out," Ginny interjected as she entered the room and grabbed her thick, beige coat from the rack.
"I'm ready!" Hermione called, appearing at the top of the stairs.
The two boys turned and their mouths fell open.
Hermione looked stunning. She was wearing a beautiful, long aquamarine pleated dress with silver sequins hand-stitched on it. She wore silver heels and had a matching charm bracelet, which her mum had bought her for her birthday last year.
"Woah, 'Mione." Harry was the first to speak, as Ron was still speechless. "Trying to knock the socks off of us, are you?"
Hermione blushed. "Stop, I'm not that pretty," she denied, her cheeks a light shade of crimson.
"Absolutely ridiculous," Ron interjected. "You look great. Malfoy's going to be blown away when he sees you."
"Thanks, Ron," she said, smiling. "Now, are we going to the ball or what?"
"Yes, we can go now. We were just waiting for you," Ginny responded.
"Does everyone have enough Floo Powder?" Hermione asked, glancing around.
"Yes!" three voices said in unison.
"Great! Let's go," Ginny announced. She stepped delicately into the fireplace, lifting her dress as she did so.
"Wait!" Ron exclaimed. "I left my wand." He darted over the table, grabbing his wand and tucking it into his pocket.
"Didn't you just pick that up, when we were telling Hermione to hurry up?" Harry asked, looking puzzled.
"Yeah, but she was taking ages," Ron retorted.
Hermione put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "You will never know the stresses and pains that come with being a girl," she told him, narrowing her eyes.
Ginny stepped in. "She's not wrong. Do you know how painful wearing heels are? At first, they aren't bad. But after an hour or so, it really kicks in." She glared at Ron. "And making sure your makeup is perfect is a nightmare."
Ron harrumphed, sticking his tongue out at Ginny. She returned the gesture.
"Can we go now? Or are we going to argue?" Harry said, sighing. "I swear, by the time we get there it will be over."
...
When they got there, they were amazed by how big it was. It must have been at least two times bigger than the Great Hall. The walls were decorated with moving pictures of the two families and directly in front of them was a large stained-glass window. The largest window at the back centre was a picture of the two families making peace with each other. Underneath the picture was a large fireplace, where people were making s'mores and toasting marshmallows. The floor sparkled as light from the see-through glass ceiling shone through.
"I'm going over there to see Luna," Ginny told them, pointing at Luna. "Bye."
"This place is massive!" Harry exclaimed, eyes wide as his gaze swept across the room.
"It's bloody bigger than Hogwarts!" Ron exclaimed, gaping at the enormous chocolate fountain.
"Actually, Hogwarts is slightly bigger because of the Astronomy Tower," Hermione corrected habitually.
They were about to go and look for their friends when a man came up to them. He was wearing a white top, with a black tie and tuxedo. He had black trousers and smart black shoes. Harry, wished he looked like him some days.
"Welcome to the sixty-seventh annual Brooks Ball. Feel free to help yourselves to appetizers and drinks." He must have been in a hurry because immediately after he spoke, he swiftly walked over to the door greet more guests.
"Why is everyone staring at me?" Hermione whispered to Harry and Ron. She was unsettled, noticing how people's gazes followed her wherever she walked. She stuck a bit closer to her friends.
"How are we supposed to know?" Ron snapped, and then proceeded to mock her. "We're just boys, remember? According to you, we will never know what it's like to be a girl."
"I do not sound like that!" Hermione replied, highly scandalized.
"Yes, you do!" Ron shot back.
"No, I don't!"
"Yes, you do!"
"I don't!"
"You do!"
"Fine, I do!"
"No, you don't!"
"Ha! You just admitted that I don't."
Harry suppressed a groan. "Are you two going to be like this during the entire ball? Because I don't want to have to be the mediator. I came here to have a good time, not to put up with your childish bickering."
Ron looked appropriately ashamed. "Sorry, mate," he muttered, eyes trained on the polished marble floor.
"All right, all right, we'll try to behave ourselves," Hermione said, more impatiently now. "But why is everyone staring at me?"
"I think I know," Ginny interrupted, her eyes flitting around the group nervously. She had just been conversing with Luna. "And I don't think you're going to like it."
"Just tell me, Ginny," Hermione ordered anxiously, brows furrowing.
"Okay, as long as you promise you won't get angry," Ginny replied, eyeing her friend warily.
"I won't, trust me." she promised. "Just tell me, Ginny!"
Ginny didn't know how to tell her, so she decided just to blurt it all out at once. "Draco said that he knocked you up in the Trophy Room!"
A hush fell over the room. Hermione looked like she was about to explode with anger, her face frozen with an expression of shock and rage.
"I told her she shouldn't have trusted him," Ron whispered to Ginny and Harry, doing his best to keep his words down, hoping not to upset Hermione even more.
Hermione couldn't contain her outrage. She searched the room frantically, until she finally spotted him next to the large fireplace. She made a beeline for the object of her rage, pulling her fist back and slamming a punch into his nose. Blood dribbled down from his nose as he cradled it, looking at Hermione with a malicious smirk.
"How dare you say that we did it in the Trophy Room! You know we didn't!" she shrieked, slapping him across his chest and making him stumble.
Draco recovered rather quickly, his grin growing wider as he saw how enraged she was. "Look, everybody, I told you she would deny it. She always was a prude. Now you know who she really is."
"But, we didn't!" she protested fervently. It was hopeless; no one was going to believe her over Draco and his gang.
There was only one thing she could do.
"We're done, Draco," she cried, her body shaking from the raw emotion. "I don't ever want to see you again! You can take your bloody rumor and shove it up your—"
That was where Ginny interceded, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders and leading her out of the room, glaring venomously over her shoulder at Draco.
Draco, meanwhile, felt the eyes of hundreds of people upon him. He turned his back to them, smirking as he did it. He was so happy he had finally gotten revenge on that smelly little Mudblood.
Present
Hermione never forgave Draco. She stopped acknowledging that he had ever been a part of her life. The rumours, the name calling, and the teasing had all been going around for almost a year now. She hated thinking about him, but sometimes someone would come up to her and ask if what he had said was true. It was a constant and cruel reminder of him, one that felt like knives in her heart every time.