Full Summary: When the music finally came to a close, they hurriedly stepped away from each other. He cleared his throat, offering a nod of his head in lieu of the traditional concluding bow. Granger tilted her head, scoffing in place of the returning curtsey. She promptly spun on her heel and nearly stomped away from him.

Draco couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. She may have been wearing an elegant dress tonight, but she was still a spitfire Gryffindor underneath all that makeup.

(Five times Draco bowed + the one time Hermione curtseyed back)

[edited and revamped]

life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

1

Draco Malfoy was no stranger to ballrooms. His mother had ensured he was well versed in most traditional dances, however, it didn't change that fact he wasn't particularly fond of dancing. It was nothing but a byproduct of his upbringing, a rather unfortunate consequence of his family's position.

But the lessons he had found so tedious and frightfully dull in his youth had certainly come in handy.

After all, dancing was at the forefront of things when it came to the art of social niceties and charms. It was a skill he had become well acquainted with over the years as he was paraded through annual galas and ostentatious parties.

The Yule Ball was no exception.

Draco laughed at all the right times and charmed his peers, seeking to make connections with the students from the visiting schools. His father would be ridiculously proud. He flattered the girls and spun them around the dance floor, accompanying the whole ordeal with a flirty wink and a cheeky grin.

Yes, it was safe to say Draco Malfoy knew how to work a room.

The ball had started to wind down but was far from over; the formalities were being shed and the real fun was just starting. Draco spotted a few couples sneaking off, no doubt for a not-so-secret rendezvous. Large groups of friends laughed boisterously as they conversed, high on life itself tonight. Even the teachers seemed to drop their usual stern demeanour as they mingled about the decked hall.

Hogwarts itself seemed lighter tonight. The animosities that had been drawn with harsh lines seemed to have faded into oblivion for the time being. It was a magic of its own kind, he supposed.

"Draco." It was the unmistakable drawl of Professor Snape and Draco had to fight a groan. He paused, turning around with a grimace. The head of house raised an eyebrow in warning and with a sigh, Draco resigned himself as he shuffled toward him. As he approached, he realized Professor Snape was not alone. A stout, and rather rotund man, with an almost comically large moustache, was conversing in low tones with Professor Flitwick.

Draco hadn't the faintest idea as to who this peculiar looking man might have been.

His curiosity, however, was quickly dampened as he spotted Professor McGonagall making her way toward the small group. This fact in itself would not be half as alarming if it wasn't for the student she was ushering along beside her. Granger. Draco sniffed, trying to distance himself from her. He didn't trust her; especially tonight where she hardly looked like herself.

"These are our most promising students, Aleksi." Professor McGonagall said, gesturing between him and his Gryffindor counterpart. Draco shifted his weight to his other foot, quite unsure where this was going.

"Yes," Professor Snape continued, "Both of them are well on their way to becoming Head Students in the final year. Both of them will assuredly move on to do...impressive things."

Draco snuck a look toward Granger and found a bit of solace in the fact that she looked surprised as well. He had always hoped that he would eventually be titled Head Boy but hadn't quite wanted to assume. His father had said there was no other student for the job, but Draco had his inhibitions. After all, everyone knew Potter held Dumbledore's favour.

Professor McGonagall turned towards them, "Mister Humbolten works for the Department of International Cooperation in the Ministry." She levelled them both with a pointed look which made it abundantly clear that this was an important man. An influential man and Draco knew what that meant.

He quickly rearranged his face to give his most dashing smile, holding out a confident hand, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. I'm Draco Malfoy," he cleared his throat, "I believe you may be acquainted with my father…" Draco let the sentence trail off, letting his name speak for itself.

It worked like a charm.

Mister Humbolten shook his hand with a full-bellied laugh, "Lucius' son! Ah, I should have known!"

Draco's mind raced with possibilities, his father's voice echoing in his head: 'There is nothing that cannot be achieved if one knows the right people and their price.' The Department of International Cooperation was notoriously difficult to get placed but this could be Draco's chance. Aleksi Humbolten was undoubtedly one of those 'right people'. So, Draco continued to grin at the loud man, offering a light chuckle of his own. Contrary to popular belief, he had learned that flattery could indeed get you everywhere.

Granger, however, had no such sense of propriety. Of course, she didn't. The witch was practically bouncing on her feet as she interrupted the delicate rapport he was trying to establish, "An honour to meet you, sir!" she gushes, "I've read your articles outlining the importance of improving the exotic potion import restrictions. They're fascinating!" How dreadfully predictable of her; how positively dull.

Aleksi turned away and Draco grit his teeth, miffed at the attention being stolen, "Is that so young lady?" he asked, incredulous.

"That bit about the stricter laws on Doxy poison was absolute genius! It would resolve so much, truly."

"My, my, my! Beauty and brains with you Miss…" he trailed off in question.

"Hermione Granger, sir."

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes but before he could interject, Professor Sprout shuffled up onto the stage to announce the last formal dance of the night. All around them, students rushed to find their partners and take their places, eager to make the night last just a little bit longer.

Professor Snape looked at him, probably to dismiss him but Aleksi interrupted, "Why don't you two rush along then? It's only fitting that the best students at Hogwarts share at least one dance together!"

Draco suddenly felt ill.

"I'm sure the children have had a tiring night." Professor McGonagall rushed to say, perhaps having heard his silent plea. Maybe she had a heart after all. Draco looked up at Professor Snape, who looked positively alarmed, looking nearly as distressed as he felt.

"Nonsense! They would make a striking pair on the dance floor." Aleksi insists, looking between him and Granger. This man must be drunk; there was no other explanation. As much as Draco wanted to recoil and make a scene, this was certainly not the time. It would be best to make this as quick and painless as possible. Easy enough⸺in theory.

With a quirk of his eyebrow and a simpering smile, he stepped forward and offered Granger a hand. Perhaps also sensing they didn't have much of a choice, she stepped forward as well without fanfare. A delicate sniff with a wary look and then she shakily placed her hand to meet his; fingers barely brushing.

They stalked toward the rest of the crowd of students. It was clear that she wanted to be here as much as he did⸺that is to say, absolutely not at all. They took their positions but Draco refused to make eye contact, opting to look straight ahead above her chestnut curls. He could already hear the rumours and sneers; this was nothing short of a nightmare come to life. As the first strain of music started up, Draco let his body fall prey to muscle memory, letting his body steer his way through the awkward encounter.

He was quite surprised when Granger did a decent job of keeping up with him, matching him step for step without faltering. Not unlike when they were in class; she has always been able to keep up with him. Draco glanced down at her and it hit him suddenly. The realisation was startling as they moved through the traditional waltz. It was rather unwelcome if he was being entirely honest.

But Hermione Granger was rather pretty.

Her face was flushed from dancing throughout the night; he had seen her twirling and giggling around earlier with Krum. There was something soft about her tonight, a word he never thought he would associate with mouthy know-it-all Granger. It was bizarre; he could hardly reconcile the unruly haired bookworm with the girl in front of him. Her eyes were fixed resolutely on something behind him and this allowed Draco to continue his observations. She'd done something different with her hair tonight too and he doesn't know how he missed it before. It's smoother somehow, straighter and contained.

Draco wasn't sure he liked it.

Who was Hermione Granger if not a frizzy nest of untamed curls? The thought startled a laugh from him. Her eyes snapped up to him, a familiar inquisitive look gracing her features. 'What's so funny?' her eyes seemed to ask and Draco shook his head slightly in reply. They continued to dance in silence, gliding and twirling to the rhythm.

Sharp, clean, elegant and efficient. He was loath to admit it but she was an excellent partner.

When the music finally came to a close, they hurriedly stepped away from each other. He cleared his throat, offering a nod of his head in lieu of the traditional concluding bow. Granger tilted her head, scoffing in place of the returning curtsey. She promptly spun on her heel and nearly stomped away from him.

Draco couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. She may have been wearing an elegant dress tonight, but she was still a spitfire Gryffindor underneath all that makeup.