Yule Ball
Draco Malfoy watched, in awe, as Hermione sat across from Victor Krum at the champions table. He took in every detail of her beautiful figure; he'd always known she was beautiful, and did not return to reality until he felt Pansy's sharp elbow in his rib cage. "You're drooling, Draco." The blonde girl hissed into her cousin's ear.
The Slytherin boy's hand flew up to his mouth, and he cursed when he found that she was right. He was drooling. He couldn't help it. He'd been kicking himself ever since last December. He'd worked up the courage to ask her out, and her bastard friends ruined everything. And he'd, he hated to admit, been such a prat about it, she'd never given him another chance.
But ever since then, he could neither eat nor sleep, for if his eyes were not watching her, his mind was. There was no reprieve. His face often burned, where she had punched him, which he knew he'd deserved. And now, watching her laugh with the Bulgarian seeker, his heart ached for her.
She was stunning, in periwinkle dress robes, her hair tamed and taunting, her nearly-black eyes glittered under the haunting lights of the great hall.
"Draco, stop it!" Pansy hissed, elbowing him again, and he sighed. "Shut up Pansy." He drawled, turning his attention to the menu placed on his plate. He wasn't hungry.
Hermione tried very hard to keep her attention on Victor through the meal. The brooding, slightly misshapen seeker was surprisingly funny, but he was not Draco. She had, a long time ago now, realized why it hurt so much more when it was Draco who was mad at her, then when it was Harry or Ron. She loved him. She'd come to this conclusion sitting in her father's office last Christmas, when he handed her a stack of photo's. Images from their trip to Paris, when she had dragged the blonde boy through every single magical history tour she could find.
She laughed falsely as the Durmstrang boy cracked a joke about a hag in a bar, and ordered a salad from her magical menu. It would only anger her father if she didn't eat, and the staff table was not far from where she sat, but she wasn't hungry.
The ball was nearly over now, there was only one last song, and Draco stomped his foot into the ground outside. He'd been unable to keep his eyes off of Hermione. He wasn't sure if his face had been as green as his own house colour out of jealousy, or red as her house colour for the force of the restraint he needed to use. Every time the older -much older- boy's hands had come to rest on her hips or shoulders, he'd wanted to break something. It should have been him who had escorted her.
If only she'd been in Slytherin. If only she could tell her secret relation to Severus Snape.
Hermione escaped into the cool night air, cursing aloud at Ron's inconsiderate words. He had waited until she was finally beginning to enjoy herself, then he had swooped in, and crushed her happiness. Again.
She strolled towards the lake, magically clearing a path in the deep snow, and saw the outline of Draco, staring into the dark lake. She hesitated a moment, swallowing hard, and continued forward. Perhaps, now that he was alone, he would speak to her.
"Draco!" She called out, her voice unsteady. He spun to face her, with wide eyes, and her heart fluttered.
"Hermione?" He barely managed to hide the falter in his own voice as his eyes fell upon her. Her eyes now glittered with tears, and he ran through the snow to reach her. If she was here to get mad and yell again, if she was here to strike him down, he didn't care. He was going to get what he wanted first; and that was the phantom kiss that he longed for.
He stumbled as he reached her small cleared path, and fell forward, knocking her back into the snow bank. She shrieked as the snow hit her bare skin, and gave way. He couldn't bring himself to stand up though, as their noses brushed against each other. "Hermione...I -" he bit his lip, suddenly unsure of what to say.
She shivered as his warm breath touched her face, and she lifted her head slightly. She didn't want him to speak. She was already upset, though she could not remember why now, and she didn't want to take it out on him.
He nearly stopped breathing as she lifted her head, and without a second thought, he crashed his lips to hers clumbsily. It was warm and soft, all either had dreamed about. He moved his lips against hers softly, and his tongue poked out to tentatively trace her lips.
Hermione's heart was beating so hard as her lips parted awkwardly, she was certain it would explode. Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck as he deepened their kiss. Her tongue darted shyly into his mouth, copying the movements of his. He moaned and pressed his body as close to hers as he could.
Severus watched his daughter leave the castle, and went to retrieve his cloak. There was a dark wizard around here, and he was not letting her fall prey. Once he had his cloak he stepped into the snow and followed the very clear trail. As he drew ever closer to the black lake, he saw two forms on the ground. His stomach twisted itself into knots as he realized that he was witnessing his daughter snogging his godson. He felt torn between his wish to turn away and pretend he hadn't seen anything, and his duty as a teacher to put a stop to the public affection. In the end, he stepped on a twig, which snapped and drew the attention of the young teenagers to him.
Hermione and Draco were both so red in the face as the separated and saw Severus, that they could have given Ron a run for his money.
End drabble one-shot!
This little piece of absolutely adorable fluff may be incorperated into my 'A girl named Hermione Granger: Year Four' but there's a chance it may not. I just thought I'd post you all some Dramione to tide you over until Year Three is ready to be put up. Also, fabulous news on that front. My proof reading (previously taking HOURS) will be made faster to ensure a quicker compilation of the stories! I will be using Word starting tomorrow (as opposed to WordPad) and I will be able to more evenly separate the chapters too.
