A/N I know I told everybody I was going to update Tuesday, but I got such lovely reviews that I thought I would reward you and update a day early. See what happens when you flatter me? That should be incentive for all you silent readers to hit that magical button labeled "review" at the bottom of the page.

In this chapter, I venture out of the comfortable canon world of robes and into a new unknown…In the movies (which are NOT canon), dress robes are portrayed just as pretty dresses for the girls and tuxedo-like robes for the guys; and in the books JKR doesn't really go into any detail as to what the dress robes look like, just that they're different colors. Well, coming up to this chapter, I debated over whether or not to make a really pretty dress for Hermione and call it dress robes or not. No really. I debated this. In the end I couldn't resist dreaming up a dress for her, and so I deviate from canon. I doubt any of you actually care about this, but it was sort of a big deal to me, so. Anyway, on with the show! Sorry for such a rambling A/N.

The day had passed excruciatingly slowly for Hermione. It wasn't that she didn't like Draco's mother; what she didn't like was having to trot along after her like a lap dog and being expected to voice her opinion about every minute detail of the plans for the party that night.

But now the day was almost done, and she was beginning to feel more nervous with every passing minute. She really didn't know what to expect tonight. She wasn't even sure that Draco himself had expected it would get this far. But here they were, and the moment was drawing nearer when Draco would announce that he had chosen her for his bride.

Hermione laughed out loud at the thought of being Draco's bride. She pitied the girl who would actually hold that "honor."

Now she was back in her guest room, changing clothes for the party that would begin in less than half an hour. Narcissa had already worked her "magic" with Hermione's hair and (although Hermione had fought her) her make-up.

She stepped into the silken fabric of the pale blue dress robes Narcissa had given her. She couldn't accuse Narcissa of not being generous and even kind, from what she had seen of her this weekend. It was no wonder Draco respected her, even loved her, although Hermione could never imagine Draco Malfoy really loving anyone, even his own mother.

"Well," she said when she was finished dressing. "Here goes nothing."

Draco's day would have been stressful enough even without his little chat with his father. Now he had spent the better part of his day angry, confused, and a little more than apprehensive about what the night would bring.

He couldn't explain why he had blown up in defense of Granger the way he had. His father always knew just how to get under his skin, and the things he had been saying about her were inexcusable, but that still didn't explain why he had been ready to rip his father limb from limb to defend her honor like that.

Draco guessed that maybe something of a friendship had been forged between himself and Hermione over the last two weeks. Maybe not a conventional friendship, but there you were. It was enough that Draco had seen red when his father had spoken about her that way. Ignorant and common indeed! Even Draco could admit (not out loud, certainly) that there were never two adjectives more poorly suited to describe Hermione Granger.

After he had sorted all of this out in his mind, Draco turned his attentions to the rest of his meeting with his father.

This was the cause for his apprehension about tonight. Draco had never really imagined that he would make it this far before his parents put their foot down. His mother actually liked Hermione, which he hadn't really anticipated, but this was working to his advantage at present, so he brushed this thought aside, disturbing as it was. Lucius was reacting almost exactly as Draco had thought he would; he despised Hermione and made it very plain that he thought it unacceptable for Draco to marry her. Why else did he keep trying to get Draco to reconsider her as his choice?

But what was really eating at him was the fact that his father hadn't already forbade this whole thing and stopped the celebration completely. It wasn't as it he didn't have the power to do it. Perhaps he was waiting for the best moment to attempt to publicly humiliate Draco; Hermione's added embarrassment would just be an extra bonus to Lucius.

As the day drew to its end, Draco found himself in his room, donning his best dress robes and trying to regain his calm and cool exterior before the party. It wouldn't do for anyone, especially his father, to see him in his current condition of agitated upset. He needed to be ready for battle.

His mother had instructed him to arrive in the Great Room thirty minutes after all the guests had arrived, and Draco checked his watch. 8:45. That seemed about right. He pushed open the big double doors with a flourish.

The room was filled to bursting with the pureblooded families of witches and wizards from all over Britain. As Draco entered, they all burst into applause. He smiled broadly and waved, taking in the scene.

The magnificent chandelier in the center of the great domed ceiling was glittering with a thousand candles, and yards of emerald-green fabric were draped from the center out to the walls, creating a tent-like atmosphere. Dozens of flickering candles floated here and there among the tent fabric. There were almost a hundred small, round tables, all covered in the same emerald fabric and surrounded by four chairs each, grouped around a large cleared space under the chandelier. A long table sat at the far end of the room, slightly elevated from the rest, with one elaborate throne-looking chair in the center, surrounded on either side by five chairs each.

A live band was crooning away in the corner as Draco made his way to the long table where his parents were seated. All the chairs were full there save the throne-like one for him, and one empty seat to the right of his chair, presumably, Draco thought, for Hermione.

As he seated himself at the long table next to his parents, he glanced at its other occupants. The Minister of Magic was there, along with a few other prominent Ministry officials, two of his great aunts from his father's side, a wizard Draco recognized as a famous author, and two witches he had never laid eyes on before. But where was Hermione?

As if on cue, the crowds seemed to part, and there she was.

She was standing in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by people, but to Draco it seemed as if someone had taken a paintbrush and blurred everything out except for her.

Her hair was hanging in long, soft ringlets down her back, pinned behind one ear with a deep red rose. Her lips were stained to match the rose, and there was some sort of glitter just above her eyes that made them look even bigger and a deeper brown than he had ever remembered them to look. The pale blue dress robes she was wearing were of the newest fashion, strapless and tight all the way to the waist, then flowed gracefully to the floor. Draco's breath caught in his throat as she turned her head slightly and their eyes met.

Then, without even realizing what he was doing, Draco was on his feet and crossing the dance floor. Suddenly he was standing close enough he could smell her perfume.

"May I have the honor of a dance?" he said, struggling to keep his voice even and smooth, hoping that she wouldn't notice that he wasn't breathing normally anymore.

Hermione blushed and took his hand. Then they were dancing.

If I couldn't have you

They may as well snap my wand in two

There's no one else who

Could charm my heart the way you do

When the song ended, Hermione sighed deeply, still gazing into Draco's eyes, and he wondered what it would be like to actually be in a real relationship with her. He tucked a stray curl behind her ear as his eyes were drawn to her lips.

Then he was brought back to reality by the sound of thundering applause. He glanced around and noticed for the first time that everyone else had cleared off the dance floor, leaving them alone, and every eye was on them.

"The time has come," Lucius said in a magically amplified voice, "for the ceremony of the ring." Draco looked up at his father, who was standing on the platform where the band had been moments before.

Then his eyes snapped to Hermione's face, which was now drained of all color, and looking quite alarmed. He knew he had a similar look on his face, and quickly rearranged his features into cool indifference as he took her by the elbow and guided her up to the platform

"Don't worry, I checked, it's not binding," he whispered as they climbed the steps and stood near Lucius and Narcissa. Hermione seemed to relax a bit. Lucius cleared his thrat and continued.

"Draco," he said, his voice still amplified, yet somehow just as soft and filled with ice and venom as ever. "Do you stand before this assembled body of witnesses and declare that you have selected Miss Granger for your bride?"

"I do so declare," Draco answered dutifully. Lucius gave a curt nod. He motioned for a very old, very battered-looking house elf, and the latter stepped forward, carrying a small green velvet box. Narcissa took it and stepped forward for her part of the ceremony.

"This ring," she began, her voice amplified as well, "has been in our family for centuries. It was last worn by Draco's great-great-grandmother. Now it will be worn again as a symbol of a promise made."

She opened the box with a flourish. Hermione gasped. Inside was a ring unlike Draco had ever seen. The band was two thin pieces of pure silver, twisted together so completely and intricately that there was no way to tell where one ended and the other began. Set in the middle where the two pieces separated was a large white diamond, perfectly cut and free from any imperfection. The diamond was surrounded by a circle of tiny, perfect emeralds.

Draco lifted the ring from the box and held it in his right hand as he took Hermione's shaking left hand in his own steady one. Her eyes grew wide as he dropped to one knee and slipped the ring on her finger.

"Do you accept?"

Hermione gulped audibly, closed her eyes, and nodded. Draco didn't know why he was so relieved.

If you asked him later what happened for the next few hours, Draco couldn't have told you, only that it passed quickly in a whirl of color and music and people voicing their congratulations and best wishes. He was feeling a bit bewildered when he and Hermione were finally able to slip away under the guise of taking a moonlit walk in the garden.

"You never told me anything about a bloody 'ceremony of the ring' or whatever that monstrosity was called," Hermione hissed as they escaped through a glass-paned door into the cool night air. Draco winced slightly.

"I didn't even know about it until about an hour before I arrived, and I only had time to make sure it didn't represent anything magically binding," he answered wearily, rubbing his temples to try and relieve the headache he'd just realized he had. "I couldn't warn you in time."

"You could have," she said defiantly, "when we were dancing." She had a point.

"Never mind," he replied, waving his hand. "The point is, it isn't binding, so we don't have to get married."

"Thank goodness." Hermione was examining the ring on her finger, twisting it this way and that. "Pretty, isn't it?" she remarked absently.

"Let me see it," Draco said, holding out his hand, and Hermione made as it to remove the ring. Suddenly, her eyebrows knitted together and she frowned.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, slightly alarmed.

"It won't come off," Hermione answered, still trying to wrench the ring off her finger.

"What do you mean, it won't come off?" Draco's voice rose an octave as he spoke; he was definitely alarmed now.

"You try," she said, holding out her hand. Draco tugged and pulled at the ring until Hermione yelped in pain. "Ouch! It's burning!" When he quit tying to remove the ring, she relaxed. "It's all right now," she sighed.

Then she reached her right hand down the front of her robes. Draco's eyes widened as she pulled her wand from in between her breasts. When she noticed his shocked expression, she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, honestly, I didn't have any pockets, you know."

Then she cleared her throat and began to pass her wand over the ring, murmuring incantations under her breath. Draco was silent as he watched her for over a minute. When she was done, she attempted to remove the ring again. It wouldn't budge. She sighed and replaced her wand as Draco averted his eyes, or at least tried to. Of all the places to hide her wand, he thought, tugging at his collar. The night was suddenly very warm, he decided.

"So," he said, clearing his throat. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," she responded. The sun was beginning to rise over the trees. Draco suddenly felt hot anger bubbling in his stomach. He grabbed Hermione's hand and said,

"Come on. We're going to pay a little visit to my father."

A/N2 Here is your preview!

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"What does it matter to you? You were only using her!"

"It does matter to me! She matters to me," Draco added, and his voice dropped suddenly, as if he were surprised by his own words. Lucius chuckled.

"Oh this is rich! You love her, don't you Draco?"

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