The deep rhythmic thud of the music weaved itself into my ears, winding around my ear drums and deep into my skull where it clouded my brain over. My head bobbed along to the music, my feet unwillingly joining the involuntary dance my body had succumbed to. The lights are flashing at random intervals, sometimes shining directly at me. As if they're inviting me to get on my feet and join the gyrating smog of bodies on the dance floor. Right now, with the couple of glasses of alcohol I've consumed already, that invitation seems more than welcome.
But I also know I've got a sense of pride to uphold. Especially since the war. I swallow and set my glass of Firewhiskey back on the counter, before turning my back to the wild crowd. The entrancing music. The inviting lights. I wrap my arms around my middle, vaguely registering that the back of my school shirt has started to stick to my back with sweat.
"Not one for parties?" Someone asks, settling into the empty stool beside me. It's Granger. Her hair is wild as ever, having broken free from the carefully styled curls that had framed her face ever so nicely when she'd first entered the room. A sheen of sweat covers her face which wore the expression of someone who was unbelievably exhausted but was also having the time of their lives. I can't help but offer a grudging smile at her appearance. The once so prude and pristine Hermione Granger, finally letting go and running wild.
"Not really, no," I sigh, my hands cradling my half empty glass of fiery amber liquid. I can see Granger eyeing me speculatively out of the corner of my eyes. So much for the young-and-wild-at-heart Granger who had graced me with her presence earlier.
It's been a long process, after the war. It's all been a matter of finding the broken pieces we've left behind and piecing them back together, and it's required giving up a lot of my pride. But it's been worth it. Surprisingly it hadn't been Granger but Potter who'd come up to me after the war and returned my wand to me, apologizing and offering his hand in friendship. I had looked at his outstretched hand, silently speculating the irony of the entire situation. I'd briefly considered tossing him away like he'd done so many years before, but there was a part of me who still wanted to be Harry Potter's friend. The part of me I'd thought I left behind long ago.
After that, I'd been invited along with the other Seventh Years who'd been unable to finish their year due to the war, for an Eighth Year at Hogwarts. I had been extremely hesitant at first. Though Potter had stood up for my mother and myself at our trials and made sure that we were excused, most of the wizarding world still hated our guts. My mother advised me not to return. She had suggested we pack up and move to France, where some of my father's relatives still remained. It would've been a cowardly move, but a damn smart one. I had refused. Not only because I wanted to finish my education at Hogwarts, but also because this time I wasn't going to run away and hide. I wasn't going to play the coward again.
The Manor had been taken over by the Ministry after my father's arrest, and so my mother had no other choice but to leave me here and move to France. I hated to see the only person who might actually care about me go, but I knew it would be better for her there. Just before my return to Hogwarts however, I'd been invited over to Aunt Andromeda's. I had considered making an excuse not to go, but something inside of me told me to just shut the hell up and get my arse over there. So I'd gone. I wouldn't say I've been wholly accepted into the big happy family yet, but I've made amends. Potter had been there. The speccy git had tried to make conversation throughout the entire evening. And when I was elsewhere, I could still feel his eyes on me, making me shiver as they followed my every move.
Then, I'd met little Teddy. My baby cousin. He was lovely, and alright maybe I teared up a bit when his tiny fingers had curled around my thumb, but it couldn't be helped. Then it had been time to return to school. Hogwarts hadn't brought anything I hadn't expected already. The relentless name calling, the jinxes, the barely hidden threats, it wasn't anything I hadn't expected. But then after one particularly hurtful comment from Michael Corner, Potter of all people had stood up from the Gryffindor table. I'd been shocked, to say the least, when he started to spout ridiculous but touching nonetheless, nonsense about how no one was to utter a word to or about me and all the things I've done. I had blushed profusely at the end of his speech, not knowing whether he wanted to kiss Potter or strangle him.
Months had passed without much incident. But I could always feel pools of fiery green boring straight into me, wherever I went. Potter was still relentless with his lame (but slightly endearing) attempts at friendship. Even the Weasel and Granger had extended their hands to me. A tentative start at something fresh. Like an olive branch. I tried to apologize to those who I've mistreated in the years past, and though most didn't really care, it made me feel slightly better.
And now here we are. Our N.E. finally over and done with, the final days of the first and last Eighth Year of Hogwarts coming to a close. Some of the Gryffindors had started the idea of having a party in the Room of Requirement. I had been hesitant at first, but stupid charming Potter had somehow coaxed me to show up. And yet, he was nowhere to be found.
Granger tilted her head to the side, still surveying me. "Harry's been looking for you all night. He thought you wouldn't show," she says.
My heart starts beating faster at her words. He's been looking for me? I refuse to accept the onslaught of emotions pouring out of my heart. "O-oh, really?"
Granger smirks knowingly, and I silently curse her ability to see right through everything and everyone. "Oh yes. You should probably go talk to him. He's been a bit down lately," she muses, sliding off her stool and heading back into the pulsing crowd, which engulfed her into its depths like a giant monster gulping down a meal.
I turned back to my glass, debating my options. Taking a deep breath, I decided I might as well try to enjoy my last party here at Hogwarts. My last chance to forget all about the responsibilities and obstacles which lay ahead in my path, and just embrace my young heart. I lifted the glass up to my chapped lips, gulping down its contents even as the Firewhiskey burned my throat on its way down. I set the glass back on the counter with a dull thunk. The alcohol had already started to settle inside of me, taking over any sense of thought I might've been capable of before. That, and the continuous lull of the lively music brought me to my feet. A warm glow started to expand somewhere inside of me, making me feel all loopy and strange. But in a good way. A very good way.
I stumble into the gyrating crowd, which sucks me inside willingly. Now, I don't really know how to dance, unless it's one of those mandatory dances at one of my mother's social extravaganzas. Those dances have rules. They're precise and clear and I've always thought those formal dances were just ways to show others how good (or horrible) you were. It was always about one upping everybody else in pureblood society. Right now, however, it was all about the freedom. About closing your eyes, and letting go. Allowing the music to move you, not the other way around.
I don't remember how long I was there on the dance floor. But it was long enough for me to become one in the crowd. Soon, I was a part of the mass of pulsing bodies on the floor, and it was amazing. For the first time in Merlin knows how long, I was actually having fun. Of course, that wasn't going to last for long.
The song ended, immediately transitioning into yet another one. This one's more slow. It pulls at my heart, and I don't even know why. I see people leaving the floor, settling on the sofas and stools which have appeared around the room. Just as I'm about to stumble off the dance floor myself, someone pulls me back by the arm. Surprised, I turn and my heart instantly speeds up at the sight of familiar emerald green eyes.
"Leaving already, Draco?" Potter asks. His eyes are dark but soft. I know what he wants and I know I want it to. I've known for a while. I also know I can't give in. I can't do this. But the alcohol turns my train of rational thought into nothing but a pile of mush. I feel that warm sensation settle in my abdomen as his eyes linger on my own, before he pulls me closer.
I know I should push him away, but I don't want to. I don't care what people will say or think, I don't care if this isn't how things are supposed to be. All I know is that I'm in Harry Potter's arms, and I've decided that it's a place I'd like to be in for a while. Possibly even forever. If he'll have me for that long.
I'm scared, I really am. But as he wraps his arms around me, resting his cheek against my own, I feel like I can fly. I hear faint gasps all around, and I briefly register the fact that we're the only people on the dance floor, before that thought too gets turned into a pile of mush somewhere deep inside my brain.
The song comes to a close, and my heart starts speeding up again. Now what? Harry pulls away from me slightly, and I prepare myself for the look of disgust and appall on his face as he realizes what he's done under the influence of the night and a bit of alcohol, by the scent on his breath.
But it isn't disgust I see in those beautiful green eyes of his. I see something that makes my heart flutter even more. I daresay that something is mirrored within my own eyes, and in that moment I really don't care anymore. He leans in and captures my lips with his own, and I really do feel like I floated an inch or two off the ground at that. The kiss lasts for a few seconds before we pull back softly. The music has stopped completely, causing my ears to ring in the sudden silence.
Suddenly, a gentle smattering of applause from a corner of the room, which spreads throughout the rest of the room like wildfire. I hear drunken cat calls and wolf whistles and my face heats up slightly. Harry's grinning like a goddamn lunatic, but I know I am too.
As I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him in for yet another kiss, I can't help thinking that maybe this is what being happy really feels like. I could get used to this.