Chapter 9
Draco practically floated with Hermione on his arm. Tonight was the one night they could flirt and touch in public as figureheads, letting their classmates know this was nothing more than an amiable partnership. After all, they had organized this entire ball for them. Well, Hermione had.
They reached the entrance to the Great Hall, forcing Hermione to let go of his arm. As she did, she let her fingers trail his elbow, down to his wrist and just missing his hand. It was enough to drive him mental. She gracefully walked to the other side, where lower class representatives were waiting for her orders. Draco admired her figure as she walked away from him. She immediately began giving orders, directing deliveries and last minute decorations. She resumed complete control, which turned Draco on immensely.
Soon, it was time for the ball to start, as students began queuing up to enter the hall. The theme was masquerade, much to Draco's dislike. He and Hermione greeted students and professors alike, and finally, it was time for their grand entrance. Taking a deep breath, Draco motioned for Hermione to put on her mask. He had put his emerald and black eye mask on before, inextricably matching to Hermione's gown. She nodded, slipping on her black mask. Draco extended his arm once more to her, and turned towards the doors. Two fifth year students opened the heavy doors, and they walked in to the ball to booming applause. They made a quick thank you speech to the teachers and students for helping organize the ball, and wished everyone a wonderful night. The ball had begun.
After the speech ended and the band started up, Draco placed his hand on the small of Hermione's back, whispering in her ear, "shall we dance?" She bit her lip and whispered back, "do you think that's a good idea?" He scoffed. "I don't care."
He lead Hermione on to the dance floor, much to the delight of the school gossips. They began a slow dance to a sultry song by The Weird Sisters, "I Put A Spell On You."
Hermione gripped his hand tighter and whispered, "we're being watched." Draco twirled her in the opposite direction to see what she was looking at. Weasley and Potter were staring open-mouthed, much to Draco's delight. Many Gryffindor students were muttering behind hands holding punch, most likely astonished at the sudden change in demeanor between the two prefects, something Draco hadn't figured out yet himself. He decided for the time being to push away his doubts and questions, and enjoy her until Hermione's sanity kicked in. When he looked back to Hermione, he saw pure adrenaline, excitement, and a hint of lust in her deep brown eyes. He surprised her with a low dip at just the right point in the song, making her gasp and blush. He brought her back up slowly, seductively, letting everyone there know exactly what kind of relationship they were in. The song ended and Draco reluctantly let her go. She stepped back, staring at him breathlessly. He found it excruciatingly difficult to let go of her, tightening his jaw and balling his hands. He might've kissed her, right there in the middle of the Great Hall had Weasel not cocked it all up.
"Oi! What in the bloody hell d'you think you're playing at!?"
Draco quickly channeled his lust and adrenaline for Hermione into venom as he turned around to face Ron. By this point, the shocked crowd had stopped dead, and a wide circle had opened with Ron and Draco in the middle. Hermione was standing at the outer edge next to Ginny, wringing her hands worriedly.
"Well, shit-stain," he began. "I believe I was dancing, something that was clearly not taught to you in the pig-pen." A gasp arose from the crowd of students. Hermione stepped in.
"Draco, that's enough. Ronald I need to speak with you-"
"No," bellowed Ron, pushing Hermione backwards. "I'm not finished."
When Ron touched Hermione, Draco saw red. She stumbled over her dress, but managed not to fall. His jaw twitching, Draco murmured dangerously,
"Don't touch her."
"What'd you say to me, ferret?" Yet Ron's face had gone red, knowing he had crossed the line.
"Don't- touch- her."
"I can touch her anyway I damn well please!" shouted Ron. "The fuck d'you think you are!? She's MINE, you little fu-"
Draco had had enough. He turned around as though to walk away, but as he did so, he coyly rolled up his sleeve. Turning around before Ron could duck, he swung, hitting Ron so hard he staggered backwards. Spitting blood, he reared back, punching Draco square in the eye. The crowd had pushed back, screaming with glee and excitement as the two boys brawled. Hermione was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly the crowd parted, dying down almost immediately. Draco and Ron were wrestling, Draco pinning Ron down, trying to land a punch. Suddenly, billowing black robes filled his line of vision. A familiar voice said, "get up."
Draco knew he was in deep shit.
Sitting in Snape's office next to Ron, Professor Snape was explaining the situation to Dumbledore.. They were just outside, using dangerously low voices while the ball continued on upstairs without them. Dumbledore left, and Snape re-entered the room. "Weasley, you may leave. You will receive a week's worth of detention, scrubbing cauldrons for me every night from 5 o'clock to 8. Draco, you stay here."
Weasley shoved out of his chair, stalking out of the room. The door slammed behind him.
"What were you thinking?" asked Snape.
"I'm afraid I don't understand, Professor," he spewed.
Snape took a deep, calming breath. "This-" he paused. "Infatuation with the mudblood has gone far enough. Word is going to spread."
Draco's palms were sweating. He knew this day would come, the day when Voldemort and his followers would demand his attention, pulling him out of his nirvana with Hermione inside the castle's walls. "I'll stop. I'll tell her to leave me be. Just don't let them know. Please, Snape don't let them know."
Snape stared at him warily for a moment. "Draco, you should know better. I will not tell them of your personal affiliations. However, I must know what is truly going on here. If you are merely toying with her, well, that would be understandable, perhaps even pleasing to the Dark Lord. However, if this little show you're putting on is more than that…"
While Snape was talking, Draco was running through multiple scenarios in his head. He pictured himself pushing her away. He saw himself pulling her closer, her laughing, him running his hands through her hair. Her making him tea in the morning. Her fingers, delicately tracing his wrist-
Something was wrong. The feeling came on so suddenly, so strong, Draco knew immediately what had happened. "Get out!" he screamed.
Snape's face was white, his fists clenched. Snape had seen, he knew, subtly performing legilimency, so remarkably talented that Draco had not detected him until it was too late.
"Draco," Snape whispered hoarsely. "What have you done?"
