McGonagall's punishment for the two was to, again, clean up the Dungeons. It was tricky cleaning up the flour, but Hermione was triumphant the whole time they cleaned.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione set down her mop against the wall as McGonagall beckoned to her from the doorway of the Dungeons. Hermione nodded, walking out into the cool, damp hallway with the Professor.
"Miss Granger, I'd really like to ask how this came about again."
Hermione sighed. "Um, it was… it was revenge. He poured flour on me while we were baking cookies. I was simply trying to reciprocate, and I understand that it was childish."
"Hmm. I was hoping that I would see some improvement from the last time you landed yourselves in detention."
"Professor, I really don't think it's wise for us to be sharing living quarters anymore. Perhaps you would allow a change in partners. It would make things easier for both of us."
"Well, I'm afraid that's… quite impossible. You see—" she stopped. "I am quite ashamed that this has happened again. Please mind your behavior in the future."
"Why can't we change rooming assignments?"
"I don't need any attitude from you, Miss Granger. Please continue to clean the mess you created. Both in this room, and between you and Malfoy." With that, she stalked away, her boots clicking down the echoing hallway.
.*.
It was finally the night of the dance. Draco was changing into his dress robes in his closet, all the while running over the words he would say to his mother that night.
"Well, Hermione just… decided to go to the dance with someone else."
"Who?" he could hear her screeching back at him in his head.
"Uh… Ronald Weasley."
"Draco! Well, then who are you going with?"
"... Nobody."
"Draco Abraxus!"
He was already getting a headache. Why he hadn't just told her already, he didn't know.
Draco examined his reflection in the long mirror his closet held, rearranged a hair that was out of place, straightened his tie, and he was ready. Sighing, he swung open his closet door to a very stunning sight.
Hermione was checking herself in the bedroom mirror, and she turned her head at the sudden opening of the door. Her eyes met Draco's, startling him. The girl was draped in a one-shouldered green gown, the flowing, silky material running from her small torso down to the carpet like a waterfall. Her hair was in a sleek up-do, and she wore the kind of makeup that played up her features, rather than hid them, like how Pansy applied hers. Hermione looked like Hermione amplified, Draco noted.
Hermione's shining eyes were only on Draco's for a second. She turned away, uninterested, shifting her attention back to the mirror where she was trying to put on a necklace. She fastened the clasp by herself, but the little pendant fell too far down and hung beneath the necklace of the dress. She frowned and fumbled to undo the clasp again.
Draco pretended to appear bored, and swept around her to his bed where he picked up his wand and twirled it in his fingers. He cleared his throat. Draco knew he was good at a lot of things, but what Hermione struggled with, he was basically an expert in. "Things not working out for you, Granger?"
Hermione scoffed, not even turning around. Draco's eyes narrowed. If she wasn't going to play nice with him, then he missed the days he could get a real reaction out of her. He whisked over to the mirror, watching her try and shorten the chain. "You know, I could help you. Offer you a different solution."
"And what would that be?" sighed Hermione, finally getting the chain the length she desired. "I've got it."
Draco stared at it through the mirror. "An amethyst pendant with a green dress? What is this, second year fashion?" He reached out and pinched the chain, running his fingers down it to the pendant, pulling it away from her heart.
"It's fine, I don't need help." she told him flatly, freezing at the contact.
"I have something you would like," he offered tantalizingly.
"Stop it, Malfoy—I mean, Draco. Stop. Thank you."
Draco raised his eyebrows, shooting her a "trust me" look that she clearly didn't accept. Without averting his gaze, he swished his wand and summoned the same necklace he had let Hermione wear at the dinner with his mother. The three dark stones held hints of green, and the style would fit well with her asymmetrical dress. Using his wand, he laced it around her neck and showed her in the mirror how it fit. Hermione's eyes softened at how it worked so delicately with the dress.
What she didn't know is that she was wearing a Malfoy heirloom around her pretty little neck. Draco had let her borrow it last time, telling her it might have been Pansy's, when really it was a Malfoy treasure for ages. It wasn't extremely important; it wasn't a betrothal necklace or anything like that, but it was one of the many spoils his name bore. Hermione's blissful innocence to its value was entertaining.
The girl touched the dark stones, one at a time, and seemed to be weighing the decision in her head. "… Thanks," she settled on. She seemed to struggle for a moment. "I don't think I can accept this—"
"I have more."
"That's okay, this is generous enough."
"It's my pleasure." Draco whisked over the exact pair of earrings he wanted. They attached themselves to Hermione's ears, and it changed Hermione's facial structure completely. The dangling green stones sparkled with her hair up.
"Wow," she commented, seeming startled. "Where do you get this jewelry?" she asked suspiciously, breaking away from admiring them.
"Those earrings are from my mother."
"Why do you just happen to carry around women's jewelry? And why do you offer it to me?"
"I like to try it on and look pretty in my spare time," he joked dryly. "It's my old money, Hermione, I'm a Malfoy. About helping you, I do my best to help out the precious-metally impaired."
Hermione's jaw dropped. "Ha! I am not impaired."
Draco took a breath and went to say something witty, but there were no insults or words. It must have been the night. He kicked himself mentally. Say something rude, or at least snippy, he hissed to himself. But he was left with a dry mouth and no words.
Draco cleared his throat. "Have fun at the dance tonight." He stepped around her, allowing her to check the earrings in the mirror once more. "With Mr. Weasel." He disappeared into the hall, telling himself that he'd be able to bug her again later.
.*.
"Hermione, those earrings are beautiful!" cried Ginny, touching the dangling stones. "Why haven't you worn these before? Or let me borrow them?"
"Uh, they were my mom's," she lied, quickly changing the subject. "Ginny, you look… ready for dancing."
"Why call it a dance if there won't be dancing?" she shrugged, pulling Harry's hand along with her as she skipped slightly down the hallway. Harry laughed, somewhat nervously, and Hermione shared a smile with him.
"Where's Ron?" she asked.
"He was a little overambitious and he's already at the dance. What, he didn't tell you?"
"No," replied Hermione. "He's scatterbrained, all right."
"Tonight will be fun," said Ginny. As they approached the doors to the ballroom stairs, Hermione was getting nervous. She had agreed to go with Ron, as friends, just to bring back the old group again. She knew that the ball was going to be fun with her three closest friends. But there was the nagging detail that was the Malfoy family. The whole ball screamed 'Malfoy' from its very core, the very funding of it. And then that situation where he had to ask her to the dance—it all felt so wrong and surreal.
She could wait to see what happened next in their crazy tale.
Harry opened the door for the ladies, and immediately music filled Hermione's ears. "Thank you," she whispered to Harry as she stepped through the door into the gloriously decorated and enlarged Great Hall. It was gently snowing from the ceiling, but it was a perfect temperature in the room. The snowflakes landed on Hermione but did not stay nor melt, just disappeared. The entire room was white and silver and light blue, and figures of dressed-up dancing students twirled below on the dance floor.
Hermione glanced down and her eye caught on Ron's red hair, standing out against his black tuxedo. His eyes were wide at her. She laughed a little to herself, waving hello and descending the stairs to her escort.
"Wow, 'Mione," Ron said, looking at her dress. Hermione nervously nodded. "Green, you're wearing... green."
"Yes, I am."
"It's... different. Uh-nice though."
"Thank you," she replied. She had liked it. Actually, Fleur had been the one to convince her on it completely. Ron smiled at her. She grinned back, knowing that this was uncomfortable. Thankfully, Harry saved both of them.
"Let's go walk around. There's Seamus and… oh, nevermind, he's with Pansy. Look, let's go talk to Padma and Parvati."
"Sure," agreed Hermione, tagging along in her quartet. A wizarding band was softly playing music in the background, and Hermione bobbed her head slightly as they weaved in and out through people. As she passed, she could feel the eyes on her and the conversations turning. Internally, she smiled. Beauty wasn't everything, but she was feeling rather beautiful tonight. She felt… regal. And tagging along with her friends, she felt… silly. The combination was odd but wonderful.
There were many "hellos" and compliments on dresses and hair, and lots of laughter. It was almost feeling like the Yule Ball those years back. Now, she only needed Viktor Krum back by her side, asked her to dance and telling her he'd miss her, his "Her-my-own-ninny…" She smiled at the memory. She wondered how Viktor was doing now.
While Harry and Ron laughed at something with Neville, Hermione was lost in her own thoughts until she was startled by a hand on her shoulder. The Gryffindor whirled around to find none other than Narcissa Malfoy.
"Hello, dear!"
"Oh—hello," answered Hermione, going into a minor panic mode. Harry and Ron hadn't noticed who she'd turned around to talk to, but they didn't yet know about her visit to the Malfoy place. Slowly, and attempting discreetness, Hermione inched away with Narcissa into the moving crowd, trying to lose Harry and Ron. "I'm enjoying the ball," breathed Hermione, trying to make small talk.
"I think it's going rather well," Narcissa replied. She smiled like a queen. Hermione's eyes briefly darted around for Draco, but he wasn't anywhere she could see. Then Narcissa leaned in to talk to Hermione over the music. "I just wanted to let you know, dear, an insider's secret. You were voted onto the Court. So don't be startled when they call your name up for the dance."
A wave came over Hermione. "Oh. Well, thank you for telling me," she said. She had been voted onto Court! "What… what dance are you talking about?"
Narcissa laughed a little. "It's just basic ballroom dancing, you'll be fine. Everyone on the Court has to dance," she explained as if it were obvious.
"Oh. Okay, thank you. Umm… Would you happen to know who my partner is for that?" asked Hermione, growing a little more nervous.
The music took a break, so Narcissa backed up a little and shrugged. "The votes haven't finished counting themselves yet. You'll get paired with the person you were closest in vote ranking to."
Hermione nodded, digesting this. "Thank you," she replied, and Narcissa nodded in return. Well, hopefully Hermione would have someone like Neville with her. He wasn't bad, after he took the time to learn and perfect his steps. Or maybe Ron, who she had voted to be King.
Soon, Narcissa was disappearing back into the crowd, and Hermione found her group again.
A new song started up, and Ginny's face lit up. She cried out in glee, grabbing for Harry's hand and pulling him towards the dance floor. Ginny knew how to let herself free and dance, and she smiled with Harry as the upbeat music spun its melody. Hermione swayed to the beat a little. She looked over at Ron, who was just turning back to his Quidditch conversation with Dean.
"Hey, Ron, do you want to dance?" asked Hermione, itching to join in on the fun.
Ron grinned nervously at her. "You know dancing's not really my thing. I'll pass."
Hermione's smile dropped a little. "Oh, come on, Harry's out there. Please?"
Ron laughed this time, turning his back to Dean and raising his eyebrows at Hermione. "Dancing is kind of stupid, 'Mione. You can go without me."
Hermione felt a little hurt. He had gone through all of this to ask her as his date, and he wasn't dancing with her, or even really talking to her. Of course, she hadn't expected anything romantic to be happening, it wasn't really like that anymore… but she didn't imagine Ron would basically blow her off like he did before, in very similar circumstances…
"I'm going by myself, then," she told him, giving a quick friendly wave to Dean before gliding off to the dance floor without a look back at Ron. She was a little confused by him. Not just this evening, either. It was the weeks leading up to the Ball, too.
Hermione lost the wrinkle in her brow when she joined with Ginny and Harry, who immediately pulled her in. Hermione had never been to Muggle prom, but she had seen plenty of pictures and films and she imagined it a lot like this, but maybe a little less classy. She laughed and joined in the dancing, occasionally picking another partner from her class. She found Luna and grabbed her hands, spinning her around. Hannah Abbott introduced Hermione to some swing dancing moves she hadn't known before. The wizard band played a song she didn't know in the background, but she enjoyed it all the same.
In the middle of the crowd, she ran into Lavender, who greeted Hermione with a kind smile. Suddenly, the fun was gone. Hermione remembered about Lavender and Ron, and the worries caught up to her.
"Hi Lavender," she yelled over the music. "Hey, could we talk?"
Lavender's expression was unreadable. "Yeah, sure," she replied faintly. Hermione led her off the dance floor, and they migrated to a quieter part of the hall. Hermione grabbed two glasses of punch off of a nearby serving table and handed one to Lavender, who sipped it gratefully.
"How are you, Lavender?" Hermione asked, fiddling with the cup in her hand.
"I'm fine, thanks."
Hermione took a breath. "Listen, I know that you know I came here with Ron. But he's not my date, Lav, okay? Ginny and Harry and Ron and I just wanted to go in a group, there's really nothing happening between us."
Lavender shifted her weight, looking into her punch. "It's okay if there is…"
Hermione shook her head vigorously, making her dangly earrings bounce against the side of her head. "No, there definitely is not," she laughed. "He won't dance with me, or talk to me. Also, even if I wanted to go after him, I wouldn't if you liked him—"
"No, honestly I think there is something going on." Lavender still wouldn't meet Hermione's eyes. She fiddled with the edge of her lilac dress. "I think Ron likes you. Not me. That's why I haven't told him yet."
Hermione awkwardly bit her lip. "Oh. Well, I… don't really know what has you thinking that, but trust me… I don't want to date Ron again."
"He talks about you a lot," Lavender admitted, watching the people grab drinks at the serving table. "He doesn't pay much attention to me."
Hermione shot her a confused look. "I've seen you two interact. He definitely doesn't look uninterested in you."
Shrugging, Lavender finally looked at Hermione. "Thanks."
"I could talk to him about you," offered Hermione. "Not in a gossipy way. Just. I'll bring you up. Tonight. Come with me and I'm sure he'd love to have you in the conversation."
"It's fine, Hermione."
"I'm serious. I'll mention something." Hermione smiled warmly.
"… Okay," settled Lavender. "Okay."
"Alright. Let's go dance again."
As the two girls made their way back towards the music and their friends, Hermione's eye caught on the characteristic blonde hair she knew so well. A strings band in the corner was playing a classical tune while the wizard band took a break, and some of the students were practicing their ballroom dancing. Draco's partner was a dark-haired Slytherin in a sleek black dress, and he stared past her impersonally as he glided around the floor. He was quite skilled on his feet. The girl kept up with a precise and sexy gracefulness that, just for a second, made Hermione's heart contract with what could have been envy, could have been a coincidence. Neville was also on the floor, dancing nearby with a Ravenclaw from their Herbology class. She admired their classiness as they swirled around the smooth dance floor to the beat. Hermione pulled her eyes away and kept looking for her group again.
The rest of the night was very much a blur. Dances were danced, punch cups were sipped, and the magic fake snow kept falling lightly from the sky. After another hour or so, the ceiling sky-view above was filling with stars, and it was coming time to announce the Winter Ball Court.
Narcissa came to visit Hermione once more before the announcements began, this time beckoning for her to follow. Hermione excused herself from her friends and began to trail after Mrs. Malfoy. Narcissa turned around first. "Could you please have your friends come along, too?"
Hermione nodded, retrieving them and telling them to follow her. She didn't know what this was for, and it confused her even more when Narcissa pulled aside a girl she wasn't very familiar with and led the five of them through a door to the hallways outside of the ballroom.
"Congratulations," Narcissa started off when they were in the hall, joined by a handful of other students. "You are all on the Court for the Winter Ball."
Hermione heart sped up. Ginny, Harry, and Ron were with her, and she recognized one of the Hufflepuff boys and a girl from Slytherin who was in her Advanced Arithmancy class. The rest were strangers. Then, a head of characteristic blonde hair turned around and she realized that Draco was also one of the bunch.
Draco Malfoy was one of the 10 people on the Court.
How did that happen?
The sound of the Headmistress' heels came clicking down the hallway at a brisk pace. The woman was smiling, holding a piece of parchment with names on it. She looked down at her list, then at the students in front of her.
"Lovely to see you all. Congratulations," she said. "We're going to line you up for the ceremony, which is coming soon. You'll be walking out in pairs of two, which were all decided by the voting goblet. There will be a Court member dance, which the pairs will have the dance floor for, and then once the dance is done we will announce the King and Queen. Even I do not know these results yet, so we all have to wait to find out. I'm very excited for all of you."
A couple of students thanked Narcissa and McGonagall, and Ginny reached over to squeeze Hermione's hand briefly.
"All right. Let's get started. The first couple to go out will be Miss Appleton and Mr. Murphy. Arm in arm, yes. Wait until we announce the names and you will start by walking to stage right."
McGonagall went on, placing the next pair, Ron and girl from Hufflepuff. Ron shot Hermione an apologetic look.
"Then we'll have Miss Granger," the Headmistress stopped, glancing at Hermione, "and Mr. Malfoy."
She should have seen it coming.
Draco came up by her side, offering his arm for her to hold. Hermione hesitantly took it.
"Congratulations on Court," he said quietly to her, staring ahead.
"And you as well," Hermione replied, feeling short next to Draco's height.
"Are you ready to dance?" he asked her.
"Sure." She was giving up at this point.
"So how are you enjoying the Ball?"
"It's very nice."
McGonagall placed two people she didn't know together behind Hermione and Draco, and Harry and Ginny were left as the only two remaining. They automatically linked arms and McGonagall did a recap of instructions, before leading the pairs down the hallway to a door that would lead onto the ballroom's stage.
Narcissa stood to the side, holding the door open as the Headmistress entered the stage and stood behind a podium that was placed for her. The student body cheered as she cleared her throat. She amplified her voice with a quick charm, and began her speech.
"Thank you, all students, for attending the Hogwarts Winter Ball this year. The festivities aren't over quite yet. First, I'd just like to remind you that it was an absolute pleasure this first semester, and I wish you best of luck on all of your finals before you enjoy your winter break." Many groans arose from the student body at the mere thought of the dreaded finals.
"But that's enough about schoolwork." Relieved sighs. "Years ago, and back when I attended Hogwarts, there was a tradition that the graduating class got to be elected onto a Court by the entire school. From that Court, the two students, male and female, with the top votes would be crowned King and Queen of the Ball. This year, we have brought back that tradition. So we would like to begin by announcing the names of our Court representatives and inviting them onto the stage."
There were a lot of whisperings and gasps as the Headmistress glanced down at the piece of paper in her hands. She began the list. "Alana Appleton, from Slytherin and Collin Murphy, Hufflepuff." The two students in the first pair made their way onto the stage, smiling and a bit unsure, ending at the other side of the stage.
"Georgie Jensen from Hufflepuff, and Ron Weasley of Gryffindor." There was a particularly loud shout for Ron, and Hermione guessed it to be Lavender.
"Hermione Granger of Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy of Slytherin." As the two took their steps forward onto the stage, Draco slowed his pace to help her with her gliding, long dress and shorter step-span. Their names together were greeted with an odd, shocked reluctance from the student body, but applause still happened when they stepped on the stage, no matter how hesitant. Being able to see the whole student body from the stage was amazing. There were old faces and new faces, interspersed in pockets, and she stood there, in front of them all, holding on to a Malfoy's arm. They stopped their parade across the stage and stood next to Ron and Georgie.
"Next, Helena James from Ravenclaw, and Robert O'Shaunessey of Ravenclaw."
"Lastly, Ginny Weasley of Gryffindor, and Harry Potter, Gryffindor."
Slowly, the lights went dimmer and the students backed up to open the dance floor to the pairs on stage. Draco gave Hermione a look, and they nodded, heading to the stage stairs. When they landed on the dance floor, Draco let go of her arm and bowed.
Hermione curtsied, imitating what the other girls were doing. Draco reached down and took Hermione's hand from her side, folding it into his and pressing the other hand against her lower back. Hermione froze up as he did this, and he smirked so slightly that no one else standing around would know. The music began to play, a soft string air in ¾ time.
"You do know how this dancing thing works, right, Granger?"
"Of course I do. I'm not an idiot." Her father had taught her to waltz. A long time ago, yes, but she knew.
Draco took his hand out of its hold in hers and used his fingers to tilt up Hermione's chin. "Then why are your knees locked?"
Hermione fought to keep her chin high in eye contact, proper dancing posture, as she consciously untightened her knees. Draco was smirking again. Without taking his eyes from hers, he pressed her back so her shoulders bent back more, lifted her arm in the right position with their connected hands, and nudged her shoe so that her feet were even with his.
"There you go." His smirk left, and was replaced by an attentive gaze. Hermione was getting uncomfortable from the constant eye contact, but although her posture was not top-notch, she did know the eye-contact rule in ballroom dancing. "Ready?" Draco whispered. On the next downbeat, he was sweeping her with him into a slow waltz step.
Hermione focused on her feet, only slipping in eye contact for a moment when she didn't land her feet in exactly the right place. Draco's stare was unwavering. He was good at this. Hermione was being led along by the gentle guiding pressure on her lower back, turning her in wide loops around the other couples on the floor.
"Your step isn't bad," commented Draco quietly, silver eyes burning like a laser into Hermione's. The violin played a beautifully intricate run, and they both paused to listen to it, still focusing on the basic step.
"I haven't really danced in a while," Hermione admitted as she started to turn the wrong way.
"I've had lessons since I was 8, a demand made by my mother. Those classes were not my absolute favorite thing in the world, but I must admit, they have enriched my life." He lifted their arms again to proper posture, which Hermione had been gently falling from. She readjusted her hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry," she said, missing a step.
"It's okay," he answered, getting her back on track.
"So…" Hermione began, hating their forced eye contact and silence. "… Did you rig the votes or did your mother do it?" As soon as it escaped, she knew she shouldn't have said that.
In return she got a laugh and a tight squeeze on their held hands. Draco broke their eye contact to dip his head to her ear. "I don't believe in that kind of cheating. In all honesty, I didn't want to be on the Court."
They had to dance closer to each other, but Hermione preferred this conversation position over their eye contact. She leaned closer to his ear as well. "Then it was your mother."
"It very well could have been," Draco agreed, maneuvering them away from another dancing pair. "But I also don't believe she would do something like that. Might you consider that maybe we're just both popular?"
Hermione pondered for a moment. "In different ways."
"Yes, in different ways."
"How long is this song?" whispered Hermione as the orchestra started another verse.
"It's barely been a minute," Draco laughed in her ear. It tickled. When he pulled back, the distance between them was reinstated again, and they were back to making eye contact. Hermione felt invaded. It felt too… intimate, maintaining this connection. His grey eyes were absolutely piercing. She swallowed and put a renewed focus into her step work.
"Would you like to try something new?" Draco asked, turning her quicker than usual and looking pleased when she obeyed.
"What do you mean?" said Hermione warily.
"Spin," he prompted, and when he lifted his hand from her back she did her best to spin underneath his arm. He caught back up to her and they resumed their position.
"Good, but keep your shoulders back. And it's a smooth turn on one foot. Let me lead. Try it again."
"Wait—" Before she knew it, she was going into another spin, and when she stuck out her foot, she slipped. She stumbled, but an arm wrapped around her back and dipped her low to the ground.
There was some cheering from the crowd around the side of the dance floor as Hermione felt herself being lowered. "Relax," advised Draco. "You have to let me lead," he said in a low voice. He swung her back into a standing position, and Hermione rushed to put her hand back on his shoulder.
"This is not a good time for dance lessons," she whispered, hushed and a little embarrassed.
"With 2 minutes left in this song, it's a perfect time for dance lessons."
"Draco." Hermione said in a low voice, concentrating on not missing another step while trying to give the Slytherin in front of her a serious look.
"Hermione," he imitated, eyes gleaming. "Your knees are locking up again. Keep your shoulders back." She frowned in the slightest and fixed her errors. Then Draco sighed. "I'm bored. Ready? Trust me."
With Hermione growling in disapproval, he went into two fast circles with Hermione that left her clutching onto his shoulder. He was alternating their circles around the floor, looping around Ron and the Hufflepuff, the two Ravenclaws, Ginny and Harry and the other pair.
As the music reached a high point, Draco ushered Hermione into another twirl. He let her spin three times before catching her close to him, her chin over his shoulder and their stomachs almost pressed together.
"See, that was fun," he mocked into her ear again.
Hermione's brain was finally catching up with her feet. Her head was spinning, and she felt like she had just been on a roller coaster. "That was terrifying."
"You're a fast learner."
"I am quite quick," Hermione quipped, still a bit shaken.
The song was coming to a slow stop. Their feet moved slower and slower, smaller and smaller, until the violin scratched out its last parting note, and Draco maneuvered Hermione out of their dancing position. He brought their hands between them, bowing. She watched his blonde hair as he turned the top of her hand and brought it towards him. Her cheeks immediately grew hot as soft, warm lips grazed the top of her hand.
She pulled her hand away, drawing it to her side. She looked away, searching for something else to look at. Behind Draco, she could see Harry doing the same gesture to Ginny, kissing her hand as he bowed. Hermione could feel the eyes on her from the crowd, looking between her and Draco. "Stop staring!" she wanted to scream.
"And now let us announce the King and Queen of the Hogwarts Winter Ball." Hermione was grateful for a distraction. She dared a glance over to the wall of students observing the announcement, and was shocked to find that the eyes had still not moved from her and Draco. She wanted to bury her head in her hands.
McGonagall opened the slip of paper in her hands. "Let us have a round of applause for Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter!"
Hermione clapped vigorously to detract attention from herself, cheering for her two best friends who ran up to the stage with smiles all over their faces. The Headmistress placed a silver crown on Harry's head, and a jeweled tiara on Ginny's curled red locks. Standing there, overlooking the whole school, hand in hand, they did look like royalty. Their smiles screamed youth, but their faces were old from war. Hermione thought it was the most regal thing she had ever seen.
Draco stood a healthy distance away, applauding for the two near-celebrities that Hermione knew he wasn't the biggest fan of. As Harry and Ginny stepped off of the stage to go hug Hermione and Ron, Draco offered Harry his hand. "You deserved it, Potter," he said, sounding somewhat pained, but sincere enough when Hermione searched his face for sarcasm.
"Congrats, sis," laughed Ron as he pushed next to Hermione to hug his sister.
As soon as Ginny was off to talk to someone else, Ron turned to Hermione, giving Draco a glance. "A shame we didn't get to dance together for that, 'Mione. Given that we came together and all."
Hermione connected the dots in her head, seeing dangerous ground, and felt her stomach drop. She attempted a laugh, hoping to cool down the situation. Ron couldn't possibly be mad about something like this. "Well," she said through her teeth, "it wasn't our choice."
"Exactly," said Ron, eying Draco again. "Do you want to go get some punch? I'd like some punch. Let's get some punch."
Hermione didn't dare to look at Draco again until Ron was hustling his way off of the dance floor, and when she did, he was watching her leave, wearing an amused smirk on his proud face. She turned around and ran after Ron.
Ron was already at the punch table, downing a glass. He whipped around, putting the empty cup back on the table. "Do you think I didn't see what you were doing?"
Hermione's heart rate spiked, and she felt the panic rising. "What are you talking about?" It had been a long time since she'd seen Ron this mad.
"The way you were dancing. Touching," he spat, disgust in his tone. "That looked a little bit more comfortable than two enemies forced to have a slow dance. How does Malfoy think he can get off touching you like that? Kissing your hand? How can you let him?"
"Ron!"
"Do you not think the whole school is seeing what's going on here?"
"Nothing's going on, Ron!"
"Tell me the truth right now. You and Malfoy."
Hermione stammered. "I—I… I didn't, he just did it, I didn't have a choice—Ron, we were basically forced to dance!"
"Hermione Granger is screwing Malfoy." There was now a small crowd whose attention was turned to the argument, and Ron scoffed, storming out of the ballroom into the hallway. Hermione followed, just as angry now as Ron was.
"Not true!" she yelled, her hands clenching.
"You're not telling me everything!"
Hermione gritted her teeth, letting out an exasperated breath. "Okay. Fine. Do you want to know the absolute truth? I'll start from the beginning."
"Please do, I'd like to know when you started lying to me."
"I haven't been lying to you! Alright, we've been living together. If anything, we just have to be… civil. Draco's still a prick, but—"
"Draco?! You're calling him Draco now?!"
"—McGonagall made us, come on."
"Something very wrong is happening here. Even if you're all buddy-buddy now… friends don't… act like that. Did he teach you how to waltz like that, 'Mione? All up close and personal?"
Hermione desperately wished she could stop this conversation. "He's—Malfoy's an experienced dancer, I was just trying to go along with it."
"Hmm. What else is he experienced at, Hermione?" Ron's face turned a shade to match his hair.
"Stop it, Ronald, you're just making things up in your head."
"So how long has this been going on? What else is happening behind all of our backs? Next thing I know, you're going to be telling me you've been hanging out at his manor."
Hermione cringed. He still didn't know about that. She really was in deep trouble now.
"Stop bullshitting me."
"I'm not, seriously, Ron—"
"If you were telling me the truth, why haven't you been talking about anything that's going on?"
"I just didn't want you to be upset."
"Hermione, not talking to me… it's… unfaithful."
"What? Unfaithful to who?"
"Well, he's not your date."
"Wait," Hermione said, shaking her head. "What are you saying?"
"Well—yeah, I mean, 'Mione, we've known each other—"
"Ron, stop it. Stop it, stop it, you sound ridiculous."
"Maybe I want my old Hermione back!" Ron snapped. Hermione fell silent. "Maybe I want the days where all four of us were close. Where you weren't so distant all the time and… you weren't spending all of your time in a book, alone, or off sneaking around with Malfoy. Maybe I want what we had before. Maybe I want you."
Hermione lowered her head, finally connecting the dots. "You know we can't have that again."
"But I want us to," said Ron quietly.
"We can't," Hermione repeated.
"Because of Malfoy," Ron snapped angrily.
"No." Hermione felt the tears coming, but desperately pushed them back. "It's not like that, Ron, it's just-listen, you say these things now," she told him in measured tones. "But we fell apart for a reason. There are other people, Ron. There's a great girl that really likes you and you're completely missing it. You know that we agreed things were better when we were just friends. We agreed to go to this ball as friends. Ron, please, just don't do this to me."
"I miss you, Hermione."
Hermione stood, stone-faced. "I miss you as a friend. But not as a lover."
Ron stared at her and shook his head, slowly. "You're different, Hermione."
"Ron. Please."
"Fuck you, Hermione."
She stopped, unable to answer.
"You used to be my best friend. Now you're different. Now you're wearing green and playing friendly with Draco bloody Malfoy." Ron chuckled darkly. "If that's who you want as company, then who needs you. You're right. I don't want a girl who's going to cheat on me with her Deatheater dorm mate."
"Ron—" she began, but all that came from her mouth were sobs. Hermione watched him walk away, feeling like she had just been stabbed in the chest. As he turned the corner into the ballroom, Hermione sunk herself on the stairs.
What a familiar situation.
What a familiar feeling.
And this hurt more than any silly insult Draco had ever flung at her.