chapter one: harry potter fanfiction.
When the 'Do the Hippogriff' was played the fifth time, Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes and left the ballroom. This Yule Ball did not fascinate him too much. He was bored with Pansy, and was happy to get rid of her for a while.
'She's a drag,' he thought. 'I should be looking out another.'
And then he saw her. A marble statue, motionless and heart-tugging.
She was sitting on the steps in a beatiful purple satin dress. He could not see her face because she covered it with her small hands, but her chestnut coloured locks were shiny, pinned up in an elegant bun, with soft tendrils curling gently down. She looked fragile, the curves of her body unleashed his imagination.
He walked up to her. He was intrigued.
She was crying. She didn't look up. He wanted to see her. Her face.
'Why is such a pretty girl crying? You can tell me, baby, I'm very good at comforting girls.' He sat down next to her on the stairs and touched her white, delicate shoulder softly. The overpowering fragrance of her perfume surrounded him.
The girl looked up at him with a shocked expression. Tearful brown eyes met his silverblue glare.
'Don't call me baby.' She said quietly but in a threatening manner.
The hall was badly lit and her eyes were puffy and red because of the crying but he could recognise her in the first moment he saw those eyelashes.
'Granger?!'
He could not believe his eyes. How could he consider Granger beautiful? A marble statue? It was insane.
Yet, she was attractive. The chiffon ruffles of her gown spread out on the steps. Like a sorrowful princess on the throne.
He didn't care. He was Draco Malfoy and she was Hermione Granger. Enemies till death do them part.
He pulled himself together.
'Granger, I didn't know you are capable of crying. Was it Krum who let you down? Or our favourite Weasel's hideous dress robe frightened you so much?'
She didn't answer. Just staring at him like a wounded fawn.
Vulnerable and lonely. He was aware of it. He often felt the same.
The silhouette of two figures appeared in the door of the ballroom. They were snogging senselessly, ignoring the outside world.
Neville Longbottom. And Ginny Weasley.
Hermione was watching them with stunned face. Malfoy sneered and raised a brow curiously.
Suddenly there was a click, some smoke and Neville and Ginny were glaring at the contentedly smiling Rita Skeeter.
'Gosh, the wicked witch is taking photos!' whispered Hermione and stood up quickly. 'She mustn't see us together!'
Malfoy agreed. He definitely didn't want to be seen in the same picture with a Mudblood. He jumped up, too, and wanted to go to the other direction. He couldn't.
First he didn't understand why. Then he realised his emerald cuff-links had caught in a ruffle of Hermione's frock.
When he stopped, Hermione lost her balance on the steps and if Malfoy hadn't caught her, she would have fallen.
'What are you doing, Malfoy? Are you out of your mind?'
'We'll discuss it later.' Seeing no other alternative at the moment, he took her in his arms and ran up the stairs.
The eagle-eyed Rita Skeeter could only see a flowing black robe disappearing on the top of the stairs.
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