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Hermione was miserable. She sat, at her dressing table, straightening her hair, hoping and praying that she would hear Malfoy rush in, clattering about and yelling something obscene, but that would make her laugh anyway. But no, the dorm rooms were silent. Ginny sat on her bed, doing her makeup, nattering on about everyone's costumes and who was likely to look the worse.
Malfoy and Hermione had collectively spread the lie that both of them had been asked by Dumbledore to wear matching outfits so they could wear their silly costumes together without suspicion. It wasn't a masked ball, which Malfoy had been annoyed about (not that he was here to be annoyed about it), but it was fancy dress. Ginny was dressing as a pumpkin, which was actually quite clever considering her hair. It was less of a circular fat suit and more of an orange mini dress with black shapes drawn on, with a little green stalk hat. Hermione wasn't particularly Halloween-y in her Cleopatra costume but it was supposed to be for Draco. Who wasn't there. She'd heard through Ginny, through Seamus, through Theodore Nott that Malfoy's mother had fallen down the stairs and was in St Mungo's, and Malfoy was by her bedside. She was upset for Malfoy obviously; Narcissa was the only parent Malfoy had after Lucius had died. Although Hermione got the feeling that had been something of a relief, horrible as it was.
Anyway, she'd had no word from him and it was half an hour until the ball started so she'd prepared herself for it without the Slytherin. She brushed through her hair carefully and picked up Ginny's kohl pencil from the bed.
"Can you do this for me, Gin?" She asked. Hermione rarely wore more than mascara and face makeup, as well as filling her eyebrows. Eyeliner was way out of her league, but not for Ginny who wore it all the time.
"Sure." Hermione sat down on the bed and closed her eyes obediently as the pencil slid across her lid. She planned on using a pale nude lipstick as well, not wanting to have to maintain red lipstick. She'd also thought that would've been better if she had ended up snogging Malfoy, which seemed very unlikely now. After Hermione's eyes watering and nearly having to start again, Ginny finished the eyeliner and left Hermione to do her mascara.
"You look sexy 'Mione. If Malfoy was there he'd have you dragged into a broom closet by nine o'clock."
Hermione laughed, although she'd secretly been hoping the same. Hermione's actual costume was a floor-length white dress with a scoop neckline, showing plenty of cleavage, helped by a push-up bra. A gold bejewelled belt cinched her waist with a wide strip that hung to halfway down the fitted skirt that pooled at her feet. She only had tiny wedges on as she hated wearing heels and definitely couldn't dance in them. She had forgone the headdress seeing as it looked downright silly and just straightened her hair instead, sweeping half of it up and leaving the rest down to hang past her chest.
"And now, to our head girl Hermione Granger, who organised most of this!" Dumbledore chuckled, applauding as Hermione stood at the front of the hall.
"Thank you all for dressing up! Hope you all have a good time and enjoy the ball!" she exclaimed jovially. Everyone clapped and she smiled sweetly before leaving the stage. The hall really did look magnificent- real bats fluttering up in the ceiling and massive pumpkins hanging from the air. Orange, green, purple and gold streamers hung from the top of the hall and the tables set up around the outside of the dance floor were filled with delicious Halloween-themed food.
Everyone was dressed to the nines; only some of the middle year boys who were too awkward in the midst of puberty to dress up. It reminded her of Harry and Ron in the third year. Harry and Ron were dressed up as well, Harry as a muggle pirate, and Ron as a vampire. Ginger hair and pasty white face paint was quite a combination.
She swirled round to the Yule Ball waltz that MacGonagall had forced down their throats in the fourth year with Harry and Ron a few times, as well as Blaise Zabini, surprisingly, and Seamus and Dean. Neville was far by the best dancer, however. The Slytherins seemed to be in a good mood, Theo even chatting with Harry as Daphne and Hermione chatted. Daphne was dressed as a fairy, a pale pink, green and blue flower embroidered bodice complete with a tulle skirt. She had silvery facepaint on her cheekbones and had charmed her ears to be pointed, as well as a beautiful pair of wings.
Blaise had spiked the punch for the seventh years (Malfoy had the idea for different punch bowls so the upper years could get drunk without poisoning the eleven years), so Hermione was on her way to being quite drunk. She was only slightly tipsy, but watching all the couples dance together was making her want to get blackout drunk. She stood up, walking over to the buffet table when she heard hushed whispers behind her.
What now? She turned, self-conscious in case she'd spilt something on her white dress. She stopped, her breath caught in her throat. Draco was standing right in front of her, his mouth slightly open in shock as he looked at her. She felt completely naked as his eyes raked over her body before resting on her face. She noticed he was wearing his outfit and he looked downright fuckable in that damned Roman centurion uniform. He took one step towards her and she tried to say something, say anything, but words failed her. He was very close to her when she suddenly became conscious that everyone could see them.
"Hermione," he breathed. She smiled widely and threw her arms around him, Malfoy staggering back slightly as she hugged him tightly.
"You look so beautiful," he whispered into her shoulder. She just squeezed him tighter.
"I missed you so much," she murmured back.
"Back at you Granger," he leaned back, his arms around her waist as another waltz started. He led her onto the dance floor and spun her around flawlessly, and she grinned as he dipped her.
"How's your mum?" she said slowly, her eyes still drinking in his face. A brief shadow of upset flitted across his face but it was gone in a second.
"Recovering," he said smoothly, "but let's not talk about that." He smiled handsomely.
"I see you wore the Cleopatra dress for me," he drawled, and Hermione looked down, blushing.
"Do you like it?" Malfoy looked surprised that there was so witty or sarky remark for such a cocky remark, but recovered quickly and leant into her ear.
"I'd hate myself for the rest of my life if I'd failed to see you in this," he murmured, his hands travelling down to her backside as the music slowed.
"People can see us you know," Hermione whispered as her heart thumped so fast she was sure Malfoy could hear it, being so close to her.
"I don't care," he replied casually, gripping her arse tightly as her breath hitched at the contact. "Can we take this somewhere private?" he said lowly. Hermione nodded.
"Yes please." He took her hand and led her off the dancefloor, Mafloy staring everyone down who dared look in their direction and Hermione staring at the floor to avoid eye contact with anyone.
They barely made it into the first broom closet on the same floor as the Great Hall (Ginny deserved some sort of prize) before Malfoy was kissing her neck aggressively, Hermione barely reaching to close the door behind her.
"You covered that hickey," he commented before latching onto the skin behind her ear.
"Oh- I-" Hermione could barely get a word out, "I was under the impression," she breathed, "until about five minutes ago, that this was a secret." Malfoy expelled a breath against her shoulder.
"Don't care anymore Granger," he said, slamming his mouth back to her neck, "I don't fucking care."
Hermione cried out as he bit her neck, suckling it desperately. Her hands pulled off the chest armour he wore before breaking away for a second to pull his shirt over his head.
"Off," she hissed, hands raking over his bare chest hungrily. His hands travelled to the zip at the back of her dress, stopping to look at her for consent before attempting to pull it down.
"Just rip it," she said desperately.
"Don't say that," although the idea did seem intensely hot, "I'm going to be remembering you in this dress until I fucking die."
The zip finally gave way and then her dress was pooled around her waist, and then she was just in her bra, and then she was whispering more more more, and Malfoy unclipped her bra and before she could even think her breasts were there, and Malfoy went very still.
"You're fucking stunning," he whispered, and then they snapped, she arched her back, thrusting them into his hands while she whined, feeling his erection pressing so hard in between her legs, her heart ricocheting around her ribcage until she could barely breathe. And then his mouth was on her, and her eyes tight shut and she couldn't think.
"Malfoy," she whimpered, "please, I," and then she couldn't even speak because one of Malfoy's hands were suddenly under her dress, and was getting so close to her..."Stop, stop, stop," she managed to break away. Malfoy froze,
"Did I hurt you? Are you okay?" Hermione shook her head.
"No, no, I'm fine," she tried to catch her breath, "I just," she swallowed, "Don't want to rush this."
"When I take you to bed, Hermione," he said, and she stopped, her heart beating very hard, "It's not going to be in a broom closet where I can't even fuck you against the wall." She cleared her throat, her face on fire. In fact, everything felt like it was on fire.
"Glad we have that settled," she said unevenly. Malfoy chuckled, kissing her softly. She smiled as he helped her hook her bra back on.
"You may have to go on without me. I need a second to, erm, calm down, if you get me," he smiled lazily.
"Meet you by the pumpkins?"
"Sure."
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