Draco Malfoy was a wizard on a mission. He strode across the balcony outside of the Ministry of Magic's ballroom, wearing his finest dress robes, with two champagne flutes in his hands. The noise from the ballroom was muted here, and the air was fresh and crisp. Spotting who he was looking for, he made his way over to her – holding out a glass of champagne.
"Granger, why are you out here by yourself, off in a corner?" he asked, his tone lightly chiding.
"Oh, I had enough of watching other people dance, for the moment. Thought I'd get some fresh air," she said dryly, accepting the champagne from Draco with an inclination of her head. She smoothed the flowing skirt of her dusty blue gown with her free hand, looking agitated.
Granger looked amazing. Her ethereal looking dress had thin straps leading down to a beaded bodice, showcasing her delicate collarbones and her absolutely spectacular rack; which was, tragically, normally hidden beneath layers of relatively modest office attire. The skirt – which she fiddled with anxiously – was made of an airy fabric that floated around her in a way that definitely suggested magic, though it clearly was of Muggle design. Draco hadn't seen her look this enchanting since the first Yule Ball they had both attended, some six years prior – the year that Hogwarts had hosted the Triwizard Tournament.
Draco cleared his throat. "I noticed that Weasley is here with Brown." Draco felt hesitant. He had a desperate need to ask her about it, but he was unsure how she'd react. Draco had been certain that Ronald Weasley was Granger's committed – though in Draco's eyes, insufficiently devoted – boyfriend; at least up until several moments ago, when he arrived at the Ministry of Magic's annual Yule Ball. He had been shocked when he entered the ballroom, and saw the Weasel slobbering all over a blonde witch he belatedly recognized as Lavender Brown.
Granger looked completely disgusted at the mention of Weasley. "Of course you bloody well noticed them. It's hard to miss, what with the two of them having their tongues down each other's throats, next to the buffet table. Honestly! It's like 6th year all over again."
Draco winced, cleared his throat and phrased his question delicately. "I thought you and Weasley were, ah, together. I was half-expecting you would be announcing your own engagement any minute, especially after Potter decided to make it official with the Weaselette. Please tell me this is not how he chose to tell you it was over?"
She scoffed and rolled her eyes, but he saw barely controlled fury breaking through her expression. "No. We actually broke up on Halloween. More precisely, I broke up with him on Halloween. And he did not take it well. He was very emotional and he insisted that since it was basically November, and his mum had already done all of the planning for Christmas, it would be easier on Molly if we just pretended to still be together, until after the New Year. After he begged, I agreed to not tell anyone – except for Ginny and Harry – that we had split. I promised I would go with him to this ball and I would spend Christmas with his family at the Burrow, and we would pretend to be a happy couple." Granger shot back the entire glass of champagne with impressive speed. Maybe it was a Muggle trick?
Draco nodded, taking the now empty champagne flute and passing her the second one he had originally intended to be his. She seemed like she needed it more. Granger accepted the drink without comment.
"So that was the plan, at least as far as I knew, until just before I was supposed to meet Ron, tonight. He owled me – " her eyes narrowed, clearly angered by Ron's thoughtlessness "–to tell me that he had reconnected with the great love of his life, Lav Lav," Granger made a face like she had eaten something sour, but continued without pausing. " – and it wasn't fair to her if she couldn't go to this ball because of a, and I quote – favour he was doing for me."
Granger downed the second flute of champagne as quickly as she had the first, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She seemed slightly calmer when she opened her eyes and continued speaking. "Anyway, he informed me about an hour ago that he was going to bring Lavender with him this evening. And he would prefer that I not attend Christmas at the Burrow tomorrow, because it would hurt Lavender's feelings." She shrugged helplessly, while looking disgusted by the situation she found herself in.
"Are you able to spend Christmas with your family instead?" Draco was horrified by the Weasel's ill treatment of Granger. The absolute fucking wanker. It was Christmas Eve. Aside from everything else wrong with Weasley's treatment of the witch before him, Draco thought suddenly uninviting someone from Christmas dinner was extremely ill-mannered.
Granger flinched and looked down at her empty glass, before putting it on a nearby ledge. "No. No, I cannot," she said simply, without elaboration. She looked defeated.
Draco stiffened. He'd definitely hit a nerve. "Sorry, Granger, I didn't know."
She sighed and relaxed her own posture somewhat. "I know. There's no reason you would know. It's not something I share." She sighed and Draco stayed silent, letting her decide whether to move the conversation forward, or not. He knew from deep personal experience that talking about family could be excruciatingly painful, and he wanted to make sure she didn't feel obligated to tell him, unless she wanted to share.
She seemed to come to some sort of conclusion, and then spoke again. "I altered my parents' memories and gave them new identities – along with an irresistible urge to move to Australia – after our 6th year was over. It was the only way I could think to keep them safe, while I went off with Harry to hunt horcruxes."
Draco reeled internally at this new information. That had been a smart move – and it was gutsy as hell. He knew – not just assumed, but knew – that her parents had been targeted by Death Eaters. He guessed this was why they were never found, thank Merlin. "Are they okay?" he asked quietly.
"Perfectly fine. They seem really happy in Australia. Mind you, they have no idea who I am or who they used to be, but they seem pretty happy, all things considered." She wiped away a tear. "So, no. I have no family to go home to," she inhaled, shakily, before turning to Draco, clearly wanting to change the subject. "What about you? What are your plans for Christmas?"
Draco wanted to say something comforting, but he got the impression that wasn't something Granger would appreciate at the moment. He couldn't believe – well no, actually, he could believe that Ronald bloody Weasley would treat Granger so poorly – the absolute tosser. It was still galling to see her so hurt by one of the people in her life who was allowed to love her, or at least, was allowed to love her openly. She'd basically orphaned herself for the cause and now that Weasel saw fit to keep her away from her adoptive magical family – on bloody Christmas – after she'd held back from moving on with her own life, for his benefit.
Deliberately keeping his tone light, Draco smiled down at her, keeping the sympathy he felt over her predicament off of his face. "I will also be alone tomorrow. I intend to read books, drink the best firewhisky I have, eat amazing food and see no one."
"That is living the dream, isn't it? I heartily endorse your plan."
"You should come spend Christmas with me." The words flew out of Draco's mouth, without any conscious thought on his part.
Fuck.
Draco silently cursed himself over his lack of impulse control.
When he entered the ball this evening, and his eyes were assaulted by the groping forms of Weasley and Brown, the realization that Granger was no longer attached hit Draco with the force of a bombarda maxima. Draco reeled, shocked that he now had a long desired chance, something he thought would never happen – a window of opportunity to see if Granger might be amenable to seeing him as more than a friend, or co-worker.
Draco had intended to begin his efforts slowly – he had a lingering fear that if he moved too quickly, he'd frighten her off entirely. Up until just now, he had really thought he could play the long game when it came to charming, and hopefully seducing, Granger. But then his instinctive desire to cheer her up had stepped in, and stomped all over his nascent plans. He internally berated himself for not being able to show restraint for even 15 minutes, before he'd invited her to his home, to spend Christmas with him, no less.
Well, there was no hope for a more subtle approach now.
"At the manor?!" Granger choked out, her eyes going wide.
Draco winced – of course she'd be worried about that. He ought to have phrased his offer more carefully; but in his defence, when he blurted it out, he wasn't thinking of anything beyond his desire to spend time with her. "Merlin, no! My townhouse in London. Where I live, alone. The Ministry seized the Manor, and my mother moved to France."
Granger recovered well and looked at him thoughtfully. "Are you serious? Here's your completely free pass to pretend you never offered, no repercussions. I will never bring it up again."
Draco smiled at her. "I'm serious. Come spend Christmas with me, Granger? I'll let you have a look at my personal library." He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively – joking, but also knowing that it might actually be the thing that tipped her decision in his favour. "I have quite a lot of rare volumes from the Manor's old library with me at the townhouse."
Granger's eyes sparkled briefly at the mention of rare books, but then her expression turned skeptical. "Malfoy – did you not just get engaged? Don't you have a fiancée to attend to?" She sent a disapproving look in his direction.
Draco cleared his throat. "It's not an engagement, technically. It's a betrothal. And even then, not really."
Hermione narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "What do you mean, not really? Wasn't it announced only a few days ago? There was a huge spread in the Prophet about you and Daphne Greengrass's little sister." There was a slight suggestion of a jibe in her tone, but Draco couldn't decipher it. Was she jealous? Probably not – he wasn't that lucky. Maybe she was a touch scornful because Astoria had only just graduated from school?
The Daily Prophet had indeed published numerous photographs of Draco with Astoria Greengrass, presumably taken outside the restaurant they visited in Diagon Alley the week before, by an unseen photographer. His mother had insisted that Draco dine with the younger witch, so that they could get to know one another, while the details of their prospective betrothal were still being finalized. The dinner had been excruciatingly awkward. Neither of them were inclined towards the other. Draco left with the distinct impression that Astoria also had a witch in mind that she'd prefer for a romantic partnership. Draco shouldn't have been surprised by the press – Narcissa Malfoy had picked the restaurant, after all. Draco assumed that his mother was trying to goad him action by making the relationship with Astoria seem more official than it was – she had been displeased with his delay in signing off on the final paperwork.
Draco looked at her seriously. "That's my mother's doing. Don't get me wrong, Astoria is a nice enough witch, but neither of us want this – not with each other, in any event. I'm calling it off."
Mother was likely correct in her assumption that Astoria Greengrass would make a perfectly acceptable pure-blood bride. But Draco did not love her, and Astoria was certainly not in love with him, either. She had even declined his offer to accompany him to the Yule Ball this evening, telling him that she would prefer to spend Christmas in Italy, with her own family.
To be fair to Astoria, the invitation Draco had extended had not been particularly enthusiastic. Before arriving, Draco had hoped to spend at least some of the evening chatting with Granger, so he was secretly pleased when Astoria declined. Astoria's refusal was looking all the more serendipitous to him now, as gazed down at Granger – who was practically stupefying him with that dress, with her wild curls cascading down her back, completely unrestrained.
"Since when?" Granger sounded surprised. "It was only just announced."
Since about 15 minutes ago, when I found out you were single.
"I've been wrestling with the decision for a while, but it's time. Mother is just going to have to make peace with me making these decisions on my own." Draco looked down into her beautiful brown eyes, hoping to convey that he was a man of decisive action.
"She can't force you into any of these arrangements, can she? Forgive me if that's an inappropriate question – but I really do not understand how er, betrothals function. It's so foreign to me." Granger's concern about offending him was misplaced. Draco thought everything about arranged marriages was foolish. He wasn't about to be offended by anyone pointing out the many, many flaws in the practice.
"Well, parents are typically the ones who do the arranging, so I don't think your question is inappropriate," he said, by way of explanation. "But the answer to your question is no. My mother cannot force me into marriage. I suppose my father could have – or at least he could have threatened to disinherit me if I didn't comply – if he wasn't in Azkaban."
"I guess if you're just deciding which of your blood relatives you are going to marry, arranged marriages work just as well as any other system," she said, slightly under her breath.
Draco smirked at the derision in her tone. "Now you're getting it. In any event, ever since my father received his life sentence, I am officially the head of the Malfoy family and I make the decisions regarding my own life. So I'll ask you again, come spend Christmas with me, Granger. You won't regret it," he moved closer to her, smirking.
Granger her bit her lower lip, lost in thought. She probably wasn't doing it just because it drove him mad, but he found himself staring nakedly at her mouth. She looked back at him and he quickly rearranged his features into a friendly, but neutral expression.
Granger sighed. "Malfoy, I don't think it's appropriate for me to be traipsing around with a man who is publicly betrothed, I'm afraid, regardless of your intention to end it. I am already going to be viewed as having been very publicly dumped by Ronald, after the stunt he pulled tonight. The last thing I need is to do is to hand-deliver a story that will paint me as a scarlet woman, on top of that. So, while I truly appreciate your offer, I'm going to have to decline."
Draco's heart leapt as he considered her statement. That wasn't a firm no. He thought quickly, trying to sort a way to meet her requirements and have her spend the holiday with him. She was clearly not prepared to take him at his word that he was going to end his not-quite betrothal. Given the inconstancy from her former romantic partner, and their own fraught history, it would not be enough to simply ask her to trust him. Draco was going to have to show her that he could be trusted. This was going to take bold action. "What if I wasn't publicly betrothed? What then?" he asked her, his gaze intent.
Granger regarded him, assessing. "Well, I would need you to be publicly un-betrothed, before I visit your townhouse. And I don't think you can arrange that before tomorrow, which is now only a few hours away. So, thank you for your offer, Malfoy. It was very kind of you, to think of me." She smiled at him, a little sadly, her tone slightly wistful.
"I disagree. I absolutely can become publicly un-betrothed, with time to spare, but first, will you promise to dance with me? After I take care of something?"
"Well, that depends. Would I disapprove of this 'something'?" she asked, suspicion written across her face.
"Not at all. It is in fact, long overdue."
"Alright then. Next dance is yours, Malfoy." She gave him a sincere smile and he felt like his heart would burst. She was so beautiful. I'm yours, Malfoy was what he truly longed to hear her say, but he'd happily take the next dance – at least as an interim step.
"Excellent. Now, come with me." Draco led the way back into the crowded ballroom. As soon as they stepped through the threshold from the balcony, they were hit with a wall of humid air – the hundreds of dancing, drinking and laughing celebrants making the room feel warm. The band had just finished playing a song and they were gearing up to begin another. Draco stepped away from Granger for a moment and stood in front of the band, several feet away from her. He took out his wand and cast a sonorous on his vocal cords.
"Excuse me, everyone, forgive me for interrupting your evening. But while you are all gathered in one place, I thought I would take the opportunity to clarify something that recently appeared in the Daily Prophet. It is incorrect to say that I am betrothed to Miss Astoria Greengrass, although I absolutely wish her well. I am, in fact, betrothed to no one. However, I would like to announce, that it is my honour to take Miss Hermione Granger out on the dance floor right now. Thank you and enjoy the rest of your evening." He smiled broadly at Granger, casting a wordless finite incanteumon himself.
Draco held out his hand, a wordless invitation to his heart's desire.
Hermione flushed scarlet, but crossed the room to reach him – her expression caught between embarrassment and – pleased? Merlin, she looked pleased he had publicly declared himself a free man, and connected himself with her. Draco's heart beat faster, but he affected his usual cocky smirk, fixing it in her direction. She took his offered hand, just as the band started up the next song. He brought her in close to begin their promised dance, and spoke into her ear, "Was that public enough for you? Am I sufficiently un-betrothed?"
"Malfoy – do you really think that was necessary?" she seemed flustered as he twirled her around the dance floor.
"Yes." She wouldn't spend Christmas alone, not if he could bloody help it. Of course it was necessary.
"Why?" She looked up at him, her face hesitant and unsure.
Draco brought her closer to him, needing to be certain she heard every word. "Because as far as I knew, this is the first time that you have been unattached since I was released from Azkaban after my trial. I could never have pursued you before the war, no matter how much I wanted to do so. And I couldn't pursue you after the war either, because you were with a fundamentally unworthy, poor excuse for a man, and wizard. I'm sorry – I know he's your friend, but – "
She cut him off. "Oh no, Ron is the fucking worst," she looked up at Draco, slightly breathless, her eyes bright – possibly from the dancing or probably from the champagne, but Draco nurtured the hope that his declaration of interest had prompted at least some of her reaction.
Draco choked back an involuntary noise; he was so startled by her declaration. "Granger, language," he said, with mocking disapproval.
She flushed. "I know. Sorry, that champagne when straight to my head. I find I'm less capable of discretion at the moment, so please forgive me for being, er, blunt. What Ron did today was so awful. Acting like the ruse he insisted on was a favour to me! After he used it as an excuse to paw at me anytime we were around other people for the past two months. And now, he gets to act to all the world like he's the one that left me! If it had been on purpose, it could have actually been a particularly savvy strategy for 'winning' the breakup. But it's not. He's just blundered into a public relations victory by being a selfish prat."
Draco whole-heartedly agreed with her assessment, but decided that it wouldn't help him to enlighten Granger with his own dim view of Weasley's character. She already knew the two wizards despised each other. So instead, Draco spun her around the dance floor. "You know, people are looking at us quite a bit."
Hermione looked behind her and caught sight of the whispering on-lookers, pointing at them. "Well, I guess that's not surprising given the announcement you just made. The Malfoy heir is single and dancing with noted Muggle-born and Gryffindor, Hermione Granger. Shocking!" The expression on her face suggested she was also scandalized by the implications, the cheeky witch.
"Exactly. You get it. Do you want to give them a show? Do you want to make sure no one here thinks the red-headed git got the best of it in the split?" He raised an eyebrow at her while smirking, mischief in his eyes.
Hermione regarded him, intrigued but skeptical. "How? Walk me through your thought process."
He smiled at her, feeling like they were co-conspirators. That felt nice. He could get used to feeling like this with her. "It would go something like this. We finish this dance, we do few turns around the room as a united front, and then dance some more. We do not tell anyone we are in a relationship, no need to lie to anyone, Granger – but if we run the circuit together, people will assume. Leave the people guessing as to when the split occurred and which of you initiated it. I guarantee it will seem just as convincing as Weasley constantly groping Brown." Draco was unable to keep the disgust out of his voice, as he described his former rival for the heart of Granger.
Granger looked across the room in the direction of Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown. The pair was standing next to the chocolate fountain, and the fumbling menace was apparently conducting a thorough investigation of the back of the other witch's throat, using his tongue.
"And less off-putting. Okay, I'm in." Granger looked up at him, smiled and winked.
Draco pulled her a little closer than the dance strictly called for and brought her flush up against him, as he dipped her backwards. "Good girl," he whispered in her ear, his lips lightly brushing against her earlobe. She shivered. Interesting. He mentally pocketed that reaction – Merlin willing, he could explore that with her later.
Their plan went off flawlessly. After their first dance finished, Draco took her around the room, introducing her to people from different departments that he knew and she didn't, discussing her various policy proposals with some of the wealthy benefactors whom he knew well – and generally being his most charming well-bred self to everyone Granger selected for them to talk to, as they made their way through the luminaries who had attended that evening. He caught her looking at him several times, as they made small talk with other attendees, as though she was evaluating his performance. Draco gained confidence as the night wore on, as it appeared that Granger liked what she saw. He knew – had known for a while – they could be so good together. Time to make sure Granger realized it as well.
After about an hour, Draco swept her back onto the dance floor – giving the head of Department of Magical Transportation his profound apologies, while explaining that he couldn't bear to keep this spectacular witch off of the dance floor for one moment longer. Granger blushed furiously, but she still smiled at him as they danced. They shared several laughs during the course of the song – mostly little jokes he or she made about the people they had just encountered. Draco almost forgot that they hadn't intended to attend this ball together.
Both he and Granger were somewhat breathless after the song ended. Before Draco left to get more champagne, he tenderly brushed a wayward curl away from the side of her face, smiling at her as he did so. She grinned back at him, blushing. Fuck, he loved to see her blush – especially when he was the cause of it in the first place.
On his return, Draco caught the sodding Weasel cornering Granger, grasping her by the elbow in a way that made Draco want to crush the champagne flutes he was holding. Watching as Ron practically dragged an annoyed Hermione into an alcove, Draco followed, unseen by either of them. Draco held back, positioning himself where he would remain unobserved, but where he could still see them. Draco did not wish to interrupt, necessarily, but he wanted to be on hand in case Granger needed him. And to eavesdrop – he definitely wanted to eavesdrop.
"'Mione! What are you doing with him?" the redhead demanded, voice full of scorn.
"Dancing," Granger answered him coolly, her eyes narrowing.
Weasley either did not pick up on the implied warning in her tone, or he did not care. "With Malfoy? That's low, 'Mione. Really low. How could you?"
Hermione made a disgusted noise. "How is dancing with someone 'low'? He's my co-worker and friend, he's single and so am I."
"Yeah, I heard his announcement. And it's not like you guys even work in the same department. He's a Death Eater!" The Weasel looked at her with disdain, as though she was doing something unforgiveable. Draco felt his cheeks warm, as a bolt of shame crashed through him. He cringed inwardly, spiraling for a moment – sometimes he felt like he was never going to be able to move beyond his past.
"Enough, Ron. Enough. I'm not having this fight with you, again. In fact, I am no longer obligated to fight with you at all. Please return to your date and leave me to make decisions about my own life, without reference to you!" Draco felt a surge of emotion when he realized the implications of her words. She had fought with Ron about him, at some point in the past. He felt buoyed by the realization.
"Are you shagging him?" the uncouth lout just baldly demanded of her, with no preamble. The unmitigated gall from that gormless arsehole filled Draco with searing rage – how dare he speak to her like that! Draco started looking for a place he could put down the champagne flutes, so his hands were free in case he had the opportunity to punch this motherfucker. Although, if it came to it, he supposed he could just drop the glasses.
It was a ball. He could always get more champagne.
Hermione's voice became much sharper. "Are you joking with me, right now? I broke up with you – on purpose – because I did not want to be in a relationship with you. And you guilted me into pretending we were still together, by using your grieving mother having a hard time at Christmas, as an excuse. And, after you succeeded in interfering in my personal life for months, you hooked up with Lavender. And given that you were practically shagging her next to the poor man trying to pass out canapes, I'm guessing you were actually shagging her before this evening. Which means there was no excuse for your late notice about this ball! So we are perfectly clear, I can shag whomever I want, whenever I want and it is none of your business!"
"You're jealous of Lavender, that's it. Well, I'm not surprised, Hermione. She's much more open than you. But to turn to Malfoy? I expected better of you." He looked at her smugly, as though she was a source of great disappointment to him.
Hermione was practically spitting; she was so enraged. "Jealous of Lavender? Not at all. If she would like to take a turn at being bored in five-minute increments, before waiting for you to fall asleep so she can get herself off, she can be my guest!" Draco resisted the urge to pump his fist in the air in celebration. Draco could do so much better than five minutes. Merlin, if she ever let him try, he'd make her come so hard she wouldn't even remember her own name.
Granger was not finished with her erstwhile boyfriend, though. "And as you may recall, I left your selfish arse long before you reintroduced bloody Lav Lav back into the mix."
Ron looked at her with open fury and disgust. "Don't be so sure!" he sneered, raising his eyebrows and looking back over in Lavender's direction.
Granger's voice became shriller, as she realized what Ron was intimating. "Oh for fuck's sake – if you were cheating on me, why couldn't you just accept the break up when it bloody well happened! That's it, Ron. I am done. Do not talk to me anymore."
"You'd really give up on our friendship, after everything?" Evidently realizing he had pushed her too far, the prick was now trying to guilt her into putting up with him for even longer? Merlin, her relationship over the past three years must have been miserable, if the aftermath was any indication. Draco felt a fresh surge of both outrage – and rage – on behalf of Granger. She didn't deserve to be treated so poorly – not by anyone, but it was especially provoking coming from someone who was so fundamentally unworthy of the witch. Draco took a deep breath, fixed his trademark smirk upon his face, and stepped into the alcove.
Granger raised her eyes to meet Draco's and nodded, before turning back towards the Weasel. "You gave up on our friendship mid-fucking war. You do not get to now use the same war as a reason why I have to tolerate your cheating, manipulative, selfish arse. Stay away from me, Ronald. I mean it. Malfoy?"
"Yes, Granger." His eyes were focused intently on her, and only her. There was no one else who mattered.
"I would like to be anywhere, but here."
"Anything you wish, I can provide for you," Draco deftly passed her a champagne flute and then offered her his free arm, which she accepted without hesitation. Ron jerked as if he had been struck by Draco's words, which was satisfying. Not as satisfying as actually striking the unbearable git, but better than nothing.
"You're right, 'Mione! We are through!" he yelled after her, as Draco led her away.
Granger scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yes, that was the point of breaking up with you two months ago, thank you. I'm so pleased that you've finally caught on."
And with that, Draco happily escorted Granger away from her past, towards a future that he hoped would prominently feature him.