A/N: Written for the QLFC Season 8 Reserve League!
Prompt: QLFC Season 2, Round 12 KEEPER - Cinderella
WC - 2495
This was not at all how the Yule Ball was supposed to go.
It was supposed to be filled with dancing and laughter and twirling and then at the very end, when the clock struck midnight, Victor would take her out onto the grounds and he would kiss her, for the very first time, the two of them drenched in moonlight.
The beginning of the night had seemed promising; she spent hours getting ready with Lavender and Parvati and for once, once, she had been certain that she could finally escape the bushy-haired know-it-all that everyone seemed content to think she was.
"Hermione, I have something for you," Lavender had said, her entire torso submerged in her trunk as she rooted around inside it. "I think you're going to love it!"
"Oh, she is going to love it!" Parvati giggled, snatching something out of Lavender's hand as the blonde pulled herself upright from the trunk. "Here!"
Shaking her head, Hermione took the object in question from Parvati's outstretched hand, examining it. It was a purple bottle, emblazoned with bold text that looked rather suspicious. Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. Straightens even the tightest curls!
"Where did you get this?" she asked warily, and Lavender laughed.
"Oh, don't ask Hermione, just trust me! It works, I promise." Lavender took hold of the bottle and poured a bit of the liquid onto her palm, which was the same offending shade of purple, and began to spread it across her own blonde curls. "Look, I'll show you."
Hermione watched as Lavender lathered the liquid through her hair until she had covered nearly all of it, and then, barely a minute after she did so, the curls miraculously stretched taut as though pulled by invisible pins.
"It really does work," Hermione remarked, staring at Lavender's hair in surprise. "Are you certain there are no other side effects?"
"Of course not!" Parvati strode past, putting on a necklace with one hand and using the other to put on a rather flattering shade of pink lipstick. "Come on, Hermione, don't you want to impress this mystery date of yours?"
Hermione smiled at the two of them, who were so obviously trying to be nice, and gingerly poured some of the hair potion onto her hand. She did want to impress Victor, didn't she? Because she really did like him. She did. Cautiously, she began to lather it into her thick hair, trying to apply it evenly onto every strand, but it was only a matter of time before Lavender and Parvati decided that she needed some help, and soon all three of them were trying to calm the curls. Finally, they were down to their last drop of potion, and Hermione was growing frantic about walking into the Yule Ball with this disaster of a hairstyle when suddenly-
"Oh, Merlin, Hermione, look!" Lavender and Parvati sprang back and Hermione ran to the mirror, raising a hand to her hair. "You look incredible!"
Staring back at her was- not her. Well, it was her, she supposed, but this version of her had sleek, straight hair that settled on her collarbone ending in a slight wave, and for the first time in maybe forever, she felt incredibly beautiful.
"Wow, it's like you're a completely different person!" Parvati giggled, giving Lavender a high five, and Hermione tried to ignore the twinge in her heart that came with those words. She wasn't a completely different person. She was still the same Hermione she'd always been, just a little more- dressed up.
"Oh! I almost forgot, Hermione, I have the perfect pair of shoes for that dress!" Parvati darted underneath her bed and came back up with a pair of heels which she handed proudly to Hermione.
"You don't need to give me all this, really. It's incredibly kind of you, but I don't think-" Hermione began, but Parvati pushed the shoes into her arms.
"Don't be ridiculous! This is fun for us!" she said with a wink, and Hermione smiled, taking the shoes and slowly slipping them on her feet. Parvati had been right, they were clear and faceted like little diamonds, and Hermione couldn't help but think of glass when she saw them against her blue dress. She really did feel like a completely different person.
"But these must have been so expensive, Parvati, I wouldn't want to-"
"Don't worry about it! I'm telling you, you look absolutely beautiful. Your mystery date is going to lose his mind!" Parvati grinned at her before turning away to chatter with Lavender, and Hermione was left alone in front of the mirror, staring down at the glittering shoes, cold against her feet. They felt foreign, too edged and sharp to be something she would wear, but she pushed the thought away. Maybe being a different person for the night wasn't a terrible plan. At least tonight, she could feel beautiful.
Barely an hour passed before it was time for the ball, and Hermione could barely contain the buzzing in her heart as she saw all of the students descending the stairway. This would be perfect, she just knew it. For once, she wasn't the bookish girl who hid away in the library, no, today she was someone different, someone graceful and pretty and sweet, and everyone was going to notice.
Slowly, she waited for a lull in the walking traffic until she made her descent down the grand staircase. Her heart was beating out of control as she took step after step in those little glass heels, the shoes making little tapping sounds as they hit the marble below her.
She was halfway down the stairs when she felt the eyes of the students below on her, analyzing her dress and her hair and her shoes, and she was on the second-to-last step when she heard the whispers.
Is that Hermione Granger?
She looks incredible!
There's no way that's her.
She must have used at least ten bottles of Sleekeazy's.
Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as she heard the words, sharp, grating things that pressed on her mind and made tears prick the corners of her eyes. But she wouldn't cry, no, this was going to be perfect. She wouldn't let a few little comments ruin her night.
"Granger."
She looked up to see Draco Malfoy, of all people, leaning against the wall to her left. His face, she noticed, was uncommonly smirk-free.
"What is it, Malfoy? Some last-minute insults?" Hermione folded her arms, trying to read his expression, but Draco, who was clad in some particularly expensive-looking dress robes, was positively unreadable.
"I know you won't take this as sincerity, but I wanted to let you know that you look-" Hermione watched his face grow red, and she couldn't hold back her incredulous smile. What was he doing? "You look very nice, alright?"
"Did you just pay me a compliment, Malfoy?" She raised an eyebrow at him, and he rolled his eyes, refusing to meet her gaze.
"I suppose- I suppose that I did. Don't get too used to it." Draco gave her one last look before he turned away, and she couldn't help but smile. This night was already shaping up much better than she'd expected.
She met Victor in the entrance hall, and she couldn't help but grin at the look on his face when he saw her. She would have to thank Parvati and Lavender later.
The night was filled with dancing and crystals and snow just as she'd expected, a flurry of faces and twirling and punch and blue-tinted frames that she tried to keep in her mind. Victor looked incredibly dashing in his red uniform, and the two of them twirled around on the floor for what felt like ages, spinning and spinning and spinning until the only thing she could register was his face, Victor's face, this boy who- who liked her. He had been a bit distant in conversation, sure, but this ball would be overwhelming for anyone, especially someone who didn't attend Hogwarts.
"More punch, Victor?" she finally asked, and the boy nodded, his eyes wandering slightly over her shoulder before meeting her gaze once more.
"Yes please." He gave her a quick, fleeting smile and she grinned back, turning quickly to make her way over to the refreshment table, weaving in between circling couples and laughing students.
She ladled the cold pink liquid into two goblets, smiling at the way the punchbowl caught the light of the chandeliers and bounced it off of her little glass shoes. She was just about to make her way over to Harry and Ron when out of the corner of her eye, a red uniform flashed in the light. She whirled around to see a Durmstrang boy in the corner of the room, nearly out of sight, snogging a Ravenclaw fifth-year with curly brown hair. She shook her head, trying to focus on the figure's face, although it was rather hard, what with this fifth-year practically all over him. She stepped closer, internally chiding herself for her suspicion as she did so. There was no possible way that this boy could be-
Suddenly, Hermione drew in a sharp breath, and before she could control herself, she dropped both goblets on the floor, the glass breaking into a million little pieces. The sound echoed through the room, and she put a hand to her mouth as nearly every head in the ballroom turned to her. She watched helplessly as even Victor turned to face her, his face ashen, and with flushed cheeks she bent down against the floor, pulling out her wand. With shaking hands, she slowly waved her wand, mumbling the spell as the goblets repaired themselves and the liquid evaporated as if it had never happened in the first place. But it had.
"I'm- I'm very sorry," she said breathlessly, standing up as quickly as possible and turning on her heel. She ran towards the door that led to the grounds, her eyes filling with tears, and as she did she caught a fleeting glimpse of the grand clock mounted to the wall: midnight. She burst through the door, running down the short flight of stairs that led to the grounds and barely recognizing that one of those little glass shoes got stuck against a rock and slipped off of her foot. She didn't go back for it. She wasn't going back there for anything.
Everything was ruined. All of it. Hermione stumbled over to a bench and put her head against her knees, unable to keep her tears at bay any longer. She had just wanted one night to herself, one perfect night where she was enough and she was beautiful and for once, just for once, somebody liked her. Really, truly liked her.
"I believe this is yours."
Hermione looked up, swiping a hand under her eyes and undoubtedly messing up her makeup to see the face behind the voice. To her surprise, it was Draco Malfoy who was kneeling in front of her, holding the little glass shoe that she had left behind on the stairwell.
"It is," she said in a choked voice, reaching out to take it, but Draco gently lifted her ankle and slid the heel onto her foot. The place where his gloved hand brushed her skin grew incredibly warm, and she quickly pulled her foot out of his grasp. "Thank you."
"I- I'm very sorry about Krum." Draco's voice was quiet, and Hermione couldn't help but notice how the moonlight fell silver and warm across his features. "That was the most ridiculous display of infidelity I've ever seen. Did he really expect you wouldn't see him?"
"Thank you," she said again, smiling at his words. "But why are you being like this?"
"Like what?" Draco asked, and she put a hand against her head, trying to collect her thoughts.
"You're just being so- so kind! You've always been so cruel, and you've never given me a second thought, and I can't honestly say I've given you one either, so what I'm trying to understand is why the sudden change?" Her voice carried in the silent night air, and there was a moment of absolute quiet before Draco stood up and walked towards the bench, sitting down beside her.
"Look, Hermione. I'll be the first to admit that I've been awful to you. I don't- I don't expect you to forgive me, of course you don't have to forgive me, I just- I needed someone to talk to. Someone who I know won't favor me just because of my family or my wealth or any of it." Draco's face was so worn that Hermione couldn't help but believe him, and she sighed, her breath a silver cloud in the night air.
"Oh." She didn't know what to say, what to reply to that confession, and so she just watched his run a hand through his gelled hair and completely destroying his hairstyle.
"That's all they do, you know. The Slytherins. Crabbe, Goyle, - cling to me like I'm all that they know, and it's my own fault, because I've been awful to them, and I've been awful to everyone, and tonight when I saw you, I don't know, I just- I just had to help. For once in my life, I wanted to help someone." Draco looked up at her, his gaze intense, and she met it with her own.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that your life has become this way, but I don't think that this is how it always has to be." Hermione was suddenly struck by something, some sort of feeling that she'd never had before, the sort of feeling that made her want nothing more than where she was now. "You can change, Draco. And I think- I think that if you can do that, we could be friends."
"Friends," Draco repeated, shaking his head. "I'm a hopeless friend."
"I'm not so sure." Gingerly, Hermione slid her hand across her lap and brushed Draco's with her own, and slowly but surely, their fingers intertwined one by one. "I think you could be brilliant if you tried to see others for who they are, not who you want them to be. Not who you've been conditioned to see them as."
The two of them looked at each other, and Hermione felt something in her heart that she'd never felt before. It was a sort of flutter, a sort of buzz that made her smile, and she couldn't help but feel better. Because she wasn't really a different person, no, she was Hermione Granger, and it didn't matter what she was wearing or who she danced with or what others thought of her because she had the same heart, the one that had never steered her wrong.
"Thank you," Draco said quietly, squeezing her hand, and she grinned back at him. "And for what it's worth, I liked your hair curly."