My Eyes by the Lumineers
December 24th, 1994
"Dance with me."
Hermione looks up, from where she curled into herself on steps. She frowns in confusion at the hand that's hovering before her face. That confusion quickly turns to anger when she sees who is offering that hand.
"Leave me alone Malfoy, I'm not in the mood." She sniffles and wipes her face to try and regain some dignity.
"Just dance with me, Granger." His hand is still outstretched in front of her. His position slightly bowed to reach down to her.
Hermione looks around the hall, to see if his friends are waiting and laughing at her humiliation.
"I don't want any part of whatever sick joke you're playing Malfoy, I told you I'm not in the mood." And with that said, she rises from her place on the steps, grabs her shoes, and begins her ascent.
She hears a growl from behind her. An actual growl. She pauses, a foot hovering over the next step. Malfoy rounds on her position to stand above her and grabs the hand that isn't holding her shoes. She stumbles a bit as he attempts to lead her back down the stairs, towards the emptying Great Hall.
He stops suddenly before entering and she nearly rams into his back. "Put your shoes on" he all but demands and turns around to face her. Shocked as she was, she put her shoes on. She was so surprised that he had actually touched her, that she felt herself faltering and simply doing as she was told. Once her shoes were righted on her feet once more, she looks back up to him with a bewildered expression. He simply shrugs and takes her hand once more, pulling her into the mostly deserted Great Hall.
Once they reach the dance floor, he positions them correctly, his hand slightly shaking as it curls around her waist, the other clutching at the hand. She can do nothing but gape at him as he begins to push forward, making her step back. The music is beautiful, and calming. A slow dance song. She stares at him, his grey eyes reaching somewhere above her head. He is practically the same height as her, but his straight back posture makes him seem taller, with her clutched in his grip.
They dance in silence, while Hermione gets over the shock at what is actually happening at this moment.
"Why" She whispers, sensing the strained atmosphere. He doesn't reply for a while, as they continue to dance, and one song bleeds into two.
"Because I wanted to dance with the witch that stole the night." She looks up at him sharply. She is tempted to snatch herself out of his grip. She doesn't want to play his game, whatever that may be.
"I don't understand," she says resolutely. He has the nerve to smirk in response as he lowers his eyes to her.
"I wanted to dance with the girl that made every male in the room forget about their dates, the one that made everyone stop and stare." Her breath hitches at his words. He just stares back, his eyes boring a hole straight through her. She doesn't know what to say back, it feels like her brain has just stopped firing.
He looks away again, his eyes above her head and she studies him. She takes him in. His blonde hair and grey eyes, so distinctive, so different. Nobody else looks like Malfoy, it's a little jarring, to be in the arms of everything the wizarding world has come down to. The perfect pureblood, the act of hundreds of witches and wizards breeding to have the perfect line, the perfect wizard.
He looks strange, she thinks, she only ever saw him when his features were turned ugly, sneering or spitting hateful words in her direction, she had never seen him looking so… so normal. She searches his face for a lie, for the hint of a sneer at the corner of his lips, or the hatred usually centred in his eyes. She finds nothing.
She lets her head fall, partly from exhaustion from the long night she has had and from reluctance to care about whatever scheme Malfoy seems to be up to. "No other reason?" she questions quietly, wariness in her voice.
"Not one," he replies stoically, still not meeting her eye line.
"And that's all you want, a dance?" she asks again.
"Just a dance." He releases the words on a breath, a plea from his lips like he too is exhausted.
No more words are spoken between the two as they continue, to twist and turn around the Hall.
As the music finally tapers off he steps back releasing her waist, but still clutching her hand.
He looks at her eyes now, as he bends in a half bow while drawing her hand closer to his face. She finds it hard to breathe again, waiting to see what he'll do.
He brushes his lips barely against the skin of her knuckles. And then slowly drops her hand. He inclines his head, almost a nod and opens his mouth to speak before apparently changing his mind and snapping his mouth closed. He stands up straight once more, then turns to leave the Great Hall, leaving Hermione standing shock still on an empty dance floor watching him go.
December 20th, 1996
She hurriedly walks down the corridor, slightly wobbling, unfamiliar as she was walking in heels when he steps out of the shadows.
"Dance with me."
She jumps, twirling around at the voice. She exhales at seeing the familiar face. He had scared her half to death, standing in the shadows like that. She looks up and down the hallway, checking for anyone else in sight. She had just left Slughorn's party, intending to get as far away from Cormac and his wandering hands as possible.
She looks back at Malfoy. He had seemed different this year, quieter, more reserved. Herself, Harry and Ron had not been on the receiving end of his ire in quite a while, but she suspected that it was different for her, as he hadn't addressed at all since fourth year.
She looks from left to right again, before stepping forward and taking his hand. Music could still be heard from down the hall, from the party she had just fled. She didn't quite know why she accepted, but then she didn't know why she accepted two years ago either.
He pulls her in close this time, not quite touching everywhere, but close enough for her to rest her head on his shoulder if she wished.
"Is there another reason, tonight or is it the same as before?"
"Perhaps," he murmurs.
"Hmm." She hums in response.
They sway in silence for a while, only the faint sound of music from the party from down the hall.
Hermione leans in closer, her head on his shoulder near his ear, to whisper.
"Are you okay?" She asks softly, she tries to make her tone kind. She knew he must be going through something this year and Harry's rants and stalking were not helping solve the issue.
He stiffens for a moment before resuming his casual stance but does not respond.
"You can talk to me, you know, I may go on a lot, but I'm also a very good listener"
He says nothing. They carry on dancing.
"I'll always listen," she whispers into the silence as the music from the party drifts away. They are both frozen, only the intake of breath is heard. Draco steps back and raises Hermione hand to his mouth, intending to give it a brush of his lips, when Hermione pulls him forward by the hand. Her face next to his again. She can tell he has tensed, his jaw clenched, but she only brushes her lips against the smooth skin of his cheek.
She isn't sure why she does it, or what draws her to him in the first place. She is aware of his looks, only a blind man would not be able to acknowledge how attractive he is. But it's more than that for her. It is the way he had behaved this year. Closed down and weary. Like he was starving. She is aware it could be something terrible, that his family had got him involved in their schemes, or Merlin forbid he actually took the Dark Mark. But maybe she could help, if only he'd let her.
She turns away then and walks down the hall towards the Gryffindor common room, leaving him standing there. She's given him chance, if he wants to take it, she'll listen.
December 27th, 1997
Hermione is in a town just East of Essex, collecting supplies, her hair disguised to be long and black for the trip, not wishing to be recognized, however, Death Eaters are unlikely to be loitering near some random village. But she isn't on her best guard tonight. She is hungry and weak, spending months on the run with Harry and now deserted by Ron. Frankly, she is exhausted and would do anything for some glimmer of hope, but she didn't dare mention this to Harry. He was relying on her, to know the answers and keep him alive.
Adjusting the bag on her shoulder, she walks around the side of the shop, into a wide-open alleyway, her feet crushing in the snow. As she's walking by a pub with music playing she hears the words...
"Dance with me?" She freezes instantly, her fingers going towards her wand, in her arm holster.
She holds her breath. Did she mishear? No, it can't be, she doesn't even look like herself. And she is in a little village named Wivenhoe for Godric's sake.
She doesn't dare move, until a figure comes to stand before her, his hand outstretched. She still doesn't move. She can't help but admit she is slightly terrified. She knew him, yes, but that doesn't discount the fact that she stands face to face with a Death Eater.
"You said you would always listen"
Shit, she did say that. Well, that hardly matters now, does it? They had both changed since that day, and it's all his fault, if he hadn't led the Death Eaters in Hogwarts, which led to the death of Dumbledore, she wouldn't be on the run, cold and hungry, while the world has been turned upside down by this inane war.
She'd had hope for him, against all odds, that he'd see the error of his family's judgment, that he could be the one, to turn against it all.
The music was still playing in the background, a beautiful song.
Why was he here, was he going to trick her into surrendering herself, by dancing. Well, that didn't seem right, if he wanted to attack why wouldn't he have done it, it's not like she saw him coming. And she did say she would always listen.
Noticing her hesitation, he held both hands up. "I won't hurt you." and then he stretched his left hand out once more.
Slowly she reaches out, grasping his hand in hers. He pulls her in close immediately.
"I need you to know that no matter what circumstances I find myself in, I never wish to harm." He sounds desperate, and she can see the terror in his eyes, this close up. "I don't agree and I don't condone. I'm just scared." His voice almost breaks on the last word, like he is choking the word out. She doesn't say anything, just listens, as she once promised. "I wanted to make you a promise in return, and that is I will do whatever I can, to stop harm being inflicted on anyone who does not deserve it, and I promise to never hurt anyone if I can help it." He lets out a shuddering breath against the side of her face as he finishes.
She doesn't say anything, just sways with him, trying to quiet her thoughts racing through her mind at his words. She can't imagine what he might have gone through in the past six months and doesn't really want to. She doesn't want to sympathize with a Death Eater, but it was hard when his hands were shaking at her side.
When Draco steps back he raises her hand to his lips, willing to part with her silence.
She lets him, she isn't sure what to do with all that. He sounds so broken, a little slither of her heart breaks for him.
Once he releases her hand he takes a step back, waiting for her move. She draws in a heavy breath and turns to make her way down the street before she stops suddenly. She might never see him again, with this war and is this how she wants to part with him? She doesn't actually know how she feels about him, it's never been something she had lingered on for long. She was now realizing why it was too painful to think about.
She turns on her heel abruptly and charges at him, She flings herself at him, slamming her mouth onto his, her arms curling around his neck to draw him in. He stumbles back a little before gaining ground and his hands delve into her curls to hold her to him.
It is passionate, poignant and rife with emotion as she plies his mouth with her tongue, lips and teeth, pouring what she can, those feelings that were yet unnamed, into the kiss.
It was all-consuming like she needs him to breathe, and the sentiment is more than mutual.
Once they break away they are only an inch apart, her breath mingling with his.
And she opens her eyes to look up into his grey ones, there is disbelief there she thinks, but also relief. She swallows and steps back out of his arms. She looks to him one more time, before turning around and wrapping her arms around her body and heading off into the cold night.
June 28th, 1999
"Go on without me, I just need to check something" Hermione states over her shoulder, as Harry, Ginny and Ron make their way over to the Floo.
"What do you mean check something, do it on Monday Mione, come on." Ron whines, turning back around to face her.
She knows they all think she is obsessed with her work at the Ministry, so she hopes that would be a good enough excuse for staying a little longer.
"I'm serious Ron, there's something I need to grab, I'll see you at home"
Ron rolls his eyes but heads to the Floo anyway as she takes off in another direction. She is nervous that he won't show. She didn't see him tonight, but she waits anyhow, just in case. This is a Ministry function, after all, to reward the heroes and heroines of the Second Wizarding War. She looks down to see her Order of Merlin First Class medal, pinned to her gown. It isn't the place his face would be likely to show, without getting hexed that is.
She makes her way to the bar, to grab one last drink, just for something to do with her hands as she waits. The large mass of people have slimmed down now, only a few couples left still on the floor.
Eventually, a man comes to stand before her, his features dark with brown eyes and brown hair.
"Dance with me?" She knows immediately it's him. Her lips twitch, wanting to break into a grin, but she simply accepts his hand as he takes her onto the dance floor.
"So where is your Weasel tonight?" he says as his hand circles her hip.
"I sent him on without me, I had something I needed to do."
"Hmm, and what was that, may I ask?"
"A dance," she says with a shrug.
The corners of his lips turn up in a smile.
They dance for longer and talk about her award. He congratulates her, and she smiles against his shoulder.
When the dance is finished and the band has stopped playing, he leans back intending to kiss her hand, when his lips are close enough to touch, he hesitates. And looks into her eyes. His gaze is piercing, but dubious.
She holds her breath waiting for the feeling of his mouth against her skin. But it doesn't come. She stares back at him unwavering, he lifts an eyebrow in question and her resolve snaps.
She turns on her heel, her hand still clutched in his, and drags him into a corridor off of the atrium, hurrying along the hallway in search of an empty office. On the fourth door she tries, the door handles turns and she drags him in, and as soon as the door is closed behind them, she turns only to find his mouth already on hers.
"Draco." She whimpers his name between their mouths. His tongue feathers over her lips for a moment before tapping lightly at the seam and dipping inside as soon as she parted them.
His hand reaches to cup the back of her head, while the other tightens around her waist, to draw her flush against his body.
"God," she breathes, reaching up to grasp his face, fingers sliding into the hair above his ears.
He humphs a breath against her mouth and reaches down to grab the back of her legs, hoisting her up and against him.
Her fingers are trembling as she brings them down to the top button of his shirt and starts to unbutton. She lets her hands glide over the muscles of his chest, and he growls against her lips. Clutching at her hips, he starts to walk her backwards, mouth never leaving hers, until she feels her bum hit the solid wood of a desk.
Detaching his mouth from hers, he leaves hard kisses along her jaw until reaching the crook of her neck, to suck at her pressure point. She lets the straps of her dress fall off her shoulders at his insistence and his mouth descends onto her chest. With no bra on, his thumbs brush teasingly against her nipples before he momentarily pulls away.
"Beautiful," He mumbles, his eyes drinking in the sight below him. "So fucking, beautiful."
She moans against the side of his face and reaches down. Her fingers dancing low over his stomach and she began to tug at the buckle on his belt. She has his trousers open quickly and pushes downwards to shove them from under his hips, letting them fall around his ankles.
Half her hair falls out of her clip as he runs a hand down her neck and side, around her waist, and back up her stomach to lift the weight of her breast in his palm. She exhales heavily through her mouth and grinds against him. His eyes are dark when she meets them and he is beautiful; his hands gripping her lower back and pulling her forward and against him.
He grabs the material of her dress with one hand, the other pushing her stomach until she lays flat on her back, and delves underneath, seeking her underwear. His mouth attacking her nipple. She breathes out harshly, raising her free hand to clutch the back of his head.
His fingers tuck into the hem of her underwear, and he roughly rips them down her thighs, knees and shins. He strokes the pad of his thumb over her most sensitive spot, which earns him a timid moan, and he slips two fingers inside to help prepare her for him.
"Draco," Hermione whispers. "I need you."
Her words light a fire in his eyes. He removes his fingers from inside her and positions himself at her entrance, teasing her as he moves the head of his cock in small circles between her folds.
"Draco-"
With a quick turn of his hips, he plunges into her.
"Fuck," he hisses.
She gasps as he slams into her and feels herself gripping his shoulders. His size makes it uncomfortable. He pauses when he's fully seated within her. His body seems to be trembling. He places a featherlight kiss on her lips, his brows pulled together, his eyes closed and then slowly starts to move.
He pulls himself back, then pushes into the hilt. He starts at a slow rhythm but quickly turns it into a punishing pace. His thumb moves around her clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
He ducks his head to kiss down her chest, sucking one nipple after the other, his strokes steady and relentless as his fingers strum her clit. "So beautiful—fucking perfect—" He mumbles against her skin.
His mouth pauses and he looks up at her from his place on her chest, his hips still slamming into her. His eyelids are heavy with desire, but he meets her gaze, unable to take his eyes off of her.
At that moment, She wants to give him everything. She wants him to pin her down and take it from her. She wants to lose herself until there is nothing left but the way he makes her feel.
His hands slide up the back of her thighs and under her kneecaps, preventing her from wrapping them around him. He pushes them forward, driving deeper, and she cries out so loudly she slaps her arm over her mouth, while the back of her head hits the desk.
She starts to sob as her insides ignite, the burning erupting. He wrings wave after wave from her body until she whimpers underneath him, his gaze never leaving her face. He rises, gripping her hips and swearing as he slams himself home, his thrusts so strong she sees stars.
He collapses on top of her once he is finally spent, his cock still twitching, and her chest presses against his. All thoughts and reason were lost to the weight of him, full and heavy above and inside her.
Both breathing heavily, Hermione reluctantly disentangles herself from him, pulling her dress back around her legs and hopping off of the desk. She looks up to him to find he has as well pulled up his trousers. She isn't sure what she is going to do next, but she knows she needs to figure out her feelings, preferably far away from him, which creates a sense of uneasiness as that is the very last thing she wants to do.
May 2nd, 2001
She knows he is here. She had seen him talking with members of the Wizgamont earlier. He looks amazing as he always does. But he came with a new accessory this time. Astoria Greengrass. She is perfect for him, all blonde and beautiful, graced with exquisite social etiquette. And most importantly pureblood. She can't find it within herself to hate her.
She looks up and around at the Great Hall of Hogwarts, where so many lives were taken two years ago on the day. She feels the sadness grip her at the thought and tries to distract herself, by gazing at the levitating candles covering the ceiling, they have not changed from her first time she came here.
"Dance with me?" She is not surprised when she looks at the man in front of her. She gives him a sad smile as she takes his hand and they dance, bodies appropriately separated.
"And where is your Weasel tonight?"
"I left him, quite a while back actually, his heart was elsewhere, mine too, I'm afraid." He sucks in a breath, pulling her closer to his body, swaying to the music. "Unfortunately, that path is closed to me on the other end." She pulls back a little, not sure if she wants to get too close, and does not want to get distracted. She can see the realization in his eyes as she references his engagement and she readies herself for her next line. "Don't worry though, I'm sure it will all work out in the end, I don't plan to wither away on my own." She grins widely at him, attempting to find the humour in the situation, but he doesn't smile back, his lips are in a fine line and his brow furrows.
He takes a deep breath and draws her closer once again. "I'm so sorry" he whispers into her ear. She can't help the little jump in her heart but knows she needs to control herself. She just gives him a watery smile in return, fighting the fissure in her heart.
When the song comes to an end, she steps back this time, lifting her hand for him to kiss, and so he does. Without another word spoken, she turns to leave the Great Hall, her periwinkle dress swaying behind her.
December 24th, 2001
She hears a tapping and flicks her wand to open the window. A beautiful eagle owl swoops in to land on the kitchen table. She gets up to grab a treat off of her counter, and exchanges it for the note tied around its leg.
Come outside
-D
It's snowing when she opens the door. Draco has conjured a record player which is sitting at the steps up to her building. He is standing, hair glowing under the light of the street lamps. He lifts his hand indicating she should take it. "Dance with me?" She smiles but doesn't move off her front steps.
"It's freezing"
"The dancing will warm you up" he quips.
"I'm in my pyjamas," she shouts incredulously, but the small smile has now broken out into a full-on grin.
"Yes, and they are very cute, now hurry up." She finally descends the steps, slippers and all and takes his hand. They sway for a while, her body pressed close to his. She closes her eyes to savour the moment, realizing that she has never felt more at home than in his arms.
"During fourth year, is when you tore me apart, at Yule" He leans down, so his mouth is hovering at her ear. "it was when I realized for the first time, what an absolute idiot I was to ever think you could be anything less than perfect, let alone beneath me. It was when I saw you walk in, in that beautiful blue dress and all I could think about was dancing with the prettiest girl in the room." She leans her head on his chest. "In six-year, when I was crumbling before everybody's eyes, you were there again and it felt like you were the only one who could see me." He gulps and tightens his grip on her waist. "You gave me the most precious thing I could ever ask for. Hope." he whispers "A hope that one day, it might all be okay again, and that someone would just listen, but it was only the beginning of the end." she grips him tighter, as they lightly sway. "The next time I saw you there was only one thought racing through my mind. That you were alive. I don't think I could have lived with myself, if you weren't" His voice has become shaky now, along with the hands that were at her sides. "You were the only thing keeping me alive. The only thing getting me through all those terrifying moments. You were whom I thought of when I didn't think I could handle it any longer"
He pauses for a moment, seemingly to get control of his emotions and takes a deep breath.
He stops swaying and raises his hand to her face to tilt it off his chest. "Do you want to know my secret Granger? Why after all these years, I ask you to dance?" A tear slides down her cheek and he brushes it away. She nods, only once. "It is because I am overwhelmingly, and heartbrokenly, in love with you Hermione Granger," Her breath hitches "and there is no one else in this world I would rather dance with."
He steps back from her, releasing her from his hold, and sinks onto one knee, there is a box in his hand. "And I hope, the only one I will ever dance with again" he opens the top of the box, to reveal a silver ring.
Hermione stares for second tears freely streaming down her face until she too, sinks onto her knees. She places her hands on either side of his face, and whispers "yes, yes." And he surges forward and grabs her mouth with his.
When she comes up for air, her heart beating wildly in her chest, barely feeling the cold as the man she loves gazes back at her, she feels on top of the world.
She grins widely at him, taking in every aspect of his face with her hands. He does the same to her like he can't bear to stop touching her.
Eventually, they pick themselves up off the snowy floor and head inside, without taking their hands away from each other. They stumble up the stairs of her building, faces mashed together as they try to navigate the stairwell. Once they finally reach the top, she grabs the door handle and swings it open, stepping through, Draco hot on her heels.
"I'm freezing," he comments while taking off his gloves and while she reaches for the top button of his coat.
"Shower." Is all she says in return.
April 5th 2002
Her head tips in laughter as Harry and Ginny complete what looks to be an attempt at an Irish dance to slow music. She hears a whisper in her ear.
"Dance with me?"
She turns around to find her new husband, bowed with his hand outstretched and a smirk on his lips. She takes his hand immediately, with no hesitation in her movements as she is swept onto the dance floor.
There is no quietly reserved corner this time, no dimming lights or fading background. She is right there in the middle of the dance floor with him, for the whole world to see.
December 24th 2054
She conjures the same record player that's been sitting in her home for 50 years. It settles itself on the ground as the snow starts to fall. The same song on a loop. "I miss you," she says kneeling down to eye level with the headstone.
"Cassie's expecting, you know, everyone was shocked, but I, not so much. She always valued family more than anything else" she sniffed, her eyes becoming glassy.
"Oh! And Scrop is doing so well with the business, he even got that deal with the apothecary in Diagon Alley, for the cheaper.. umm.. Wolfsbane, I'm so proud of him. I'm sure you would be too. He is stressed though, about the wedding, I'm not worried, she is a lovely girl, I wish you could have..." She tampers off when she realizes she is rambling, and sighs.
She lowers completely to her knees now. And fiddles with the button on her coat. "I'm a little worried about the wedding myself, it will be my first time, you see. It will be the first time I don't." She stops and sucks in a breath to choke down the sob that threatens its way out. "I won't have my partner with me." Silent tears stream down her face.
She sighs heavily, and stands back up, adjusting her coat and wiping the tears from her face.
"Merry Christmas Draco," she whispers into the night "save me a dance."
The End