This chapter changes point of view halfway through, so enjoy getting into the head of Draco! This is probably a one time thing, so don't get your hopes up :D

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise.

"Please?! We just want to do it once! You've never let us do it before, can't we play dress up one time before we leave Hogwarts?" Ginny squealed like a pig, jumping up and down and twirling an awry curl from off Hermione's shoulder.

Parvati played with Hermione's curls as well. "Don't you remember how many boys fell for you during the Yule Ball in fourth year?" She commented, using the persuasive voice that Hermione knew so well from the many times the Patil girl had tried to get her to go out with Cormac McLaggen. "And that was without our help!"

Hermione tried to tune them out as best she could and focus on her Potions assignment as they giggled and attempted to sway Hermione. She didn't even want to go to the Christmas ball that McGonagall was putting on to 'increase house unity' and all that load of rubbish, but she had a responsibility as a Head to stay for the duration of the party. And Ginny and Parvati were having none of the reasons she was throwing at them as to why they didn't even need to find a dress for her. Apparently "I'll just go and stay in the corner" wasn't a valid argument.

"You'll make every boy in the school fall in love with you tonight if you just let us do it! Please?"

Hermione threw her arms up in the air and tried to swat their incessant hands away from her hair. "But I don't want every boy to fall in love with me. I don't even want to go! I have studying to do besides."

Ginny, ever the passive aggressive type, contorted her sweet smile in to a menacing glare and stamped her foot on the ground like a petulant child. "Hermione Jean Granger, you will let us dress you up for the dance or you are never leaving this dormitory ever again!"

"Ugh, Ginerva Weasley! I said no!" the addressed girl shouted right back, irritated to no end.

Parvati, ever the reasonable one, was less quick to anger. She placed a quiet hand on Hermione shoulder and modelled the best puppy dog eyes she could muster. "Hermione, please? As your dorm-mates for the past six years, don't you trust us enough to just do your hair?"

Sudden sadness quieted Ginny. "Please Hermione? You know how much Lavender would have loved to...to do this with you." Parvati stiffened and closed her eyes, the mention of her best friend striking a painful twinge in her heart. Ginny looked at the Patil girl, looking regretful for her comment, but Parvati brushed her off.

Feeling sorry for the Patil girl, Hermione sighed deeply, stymied. "Humph. Make it quick."

Almost two entire hours later, Ginny and Parvati stood in front of Hermione, as proud as a mother after her child's graduation from Primary School. They had used a particularly liberal amount of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, which Hermione found rather reminiscent of her times as a fourteen year old. This time though, her "hairdressers" ironed her hair until it was pin straight and flowed like a sheet of fabric down her back.

After her hair and makeup were done, they pulled out a dress and all but shoved her inside it. The dress was a creamy silver colour, a full ball gown. It had two wide straps that covered her shoulders and descended into the tight bodice. Lace sleeves underneath went to her elbows and ended in a glittery hem. The skirt was full and double layered with a pair of small slits by her ankles. The gown was pale and velvety, very traditional and in a classic style with modern touches, accompanied by little silver designs and patterns here and there in shimmery—and obviously fake—diamond-like jewels.

The girls ooh-ed and aww-ed and fawned and flattered as Hermione laced up her ballet slippers and then the pair pushed her over to stand in front of the mirror. Though Hermione could tell the difference, she wasn't too excited about everyone seeing her in it. She had already had a night like this in fourth year, and she wasn't sure that she wanted all that attention anymore. She had gotten quiet enough of the spotlight after seeing her own face in nearly every newspaper at the end of the War. In fact, the thought of anyone even glancing at her after a transformation like this made her queasy. Too bad I can't back out now, she thought to herself as she was being hustled out of Gryffindor Tower and to the Great Hall to set up by Parvati and Ginny. If only I had that time turner, I could go back and refuse their help, she mused.

Walking along the sidelines of the ball, Draco was looking for an exit. Well, more like an escape. He was looking for a door to run out of unnoticed. Apparently, being a bad boy turned to the light side was lush, and he was being followed unceasingly by a group of girls, most of which were sixth year Gryffindors. Ugh. Oh how he hoped that he wouldn't die from throwing up so much that his vital organs came spewing out.

Just as he was contemplating how everyone would morn his untimely death caused by disgust, especially those nasty little Gryffindor desperates, he was pulled rather roughly by the sleeve of his handsome dress robes into the wall. "Cormac is coming, Malfoy hide me!"

He instantly recognised the voice of Granger, and a completely ticked and horrified Granger at that. Draco backed off, raising his hands in defence. "Oh no, I'm not being pulled into this."

Granger stole another frightened glance from around his shoulder and turned to face him, drive and panic renewed. "He's smirking! I won't be able to escape this room in time!" She looked all around them, this time. Draco guessed she was looking for spectators. With a quick glance, he noticed that there was nobody around or even looking in their direction. What little people that were left were all out on the dance floor, being so disgustingly mushy he was nauseous. Even his fan club was preoccupied, that is, they were stuffing their faces at the food tables. The only person who was looking at them was a certain Cormac McLaggen, a determined grin on his face. Hermione snapped her fingers to grab Draco's attention once more. "Quick, do something boyfriend-y, scare him off!"

Draco raised a sceptical eyebrow, as if he had not heard her correctly. "Boyfriend-y?" he drawled.

Granger nodded vigorously. "Yes, I'll do your Transfiguration for—three weeks, just do something!" She proposed, hope shining in her eyes even as they flashed with panic, signalling to Draco that Cormac was coming closer and she was about to go spare.

The prospect of not having to do his least favourite subject until school started up again in January sounded like a good one to Draco, so he shrugged. "Do something like walk closer?" He inquired, even as he took a step forward, closer than he supposed he had ever been to her before.

Granger sighed exasperatedly. "Closer than that. Back me into the wall," she prompted.

Both blond eyebrows raised at that comment. "Pardon?"

Hermione grunted in frustration. "You heard." With one more fleeting look behind his head, she paled. "Hands around my waist. Now."

Slytherin side coming out, the words from Draco's mouth were hanging in the air before he stop them. "Make it four weeks," he demanded.

Granger's eyes burned with annoyance as she grabbed his tie and pulled his face closer until their noses were almost touching. "I'll do five if I have to, he's coming closer," she gritted out between clenched teeth.

Draco couldn't stop the sly smile that stretched across his face. No Transfiguration until almost February? Sounded good to him. Just to make sure, he reposed the bargain. "Five weeks?" She nodded. "Deal." Thinking about how mad his fan club would be, he smirked and stepped around both her slim legs, effectively trapping her, and leaned in until she was against the wall. Her hot breath was blowing in his face by the time he placed his hands on either side of her face.

"This good enough Your Majesty?" He droned sarcastically. He meant to glare at her, but found his efforts fruitless as her eyes were trained on a rapidly retreating figure.

"He's leaving, thanks Mal—" She abruptly cut herself off as her eyes widened and her head turned all the way to face to his, finally taking notice of their rather compromising position. It was then that Draco realised how close they really were.

The corner of Granger's mouth turned up. "Are you trying to kiss me, Malfoy?"

Feeling threatened, his old brutal self kicked in. "You wish, mudblood," he muttered vehemently. They were so close, his lips brushed hers at his retort. He stepped away from her as if he had been burned by a hot iron and strode out of the Great Hall with his characteristically long, arrogant gait.

Sorry he's mean at the end. Did you like it anyway? Tell me if you did!

Stay classy,

Beanka