Huge thanks to those who left reviews, especially FelineNinjaGrace. Really nice of you all. I'm thinking of developing this fic but should I do a proper chapter 1 (Draco taking veritaserum/approaching Hermione) or chapter 3 (Ron's reaction/school's reaction to Dramione) next? Any ideas? TMS.
Can't Hide Forever
'Please don't go, Granger.'
She looked up at him.
'Why would I?'
Hermione wanted to add 'Draco' but she couldn't get the word out. The huge struggle building in her chest acted as a barrier to hold his name back. She was afraid, after those years of mutual loathing, she wouldn't be able to say the name without it sounding like an attack.
But it wasn't mutual loathing, was it? Not on Draco's part anyway. And, if she risked thinking about it, perhaps not on her part either. Had she really lied to herself so well and for so long?
Draco moved his arm around her waist, pulling her thoughts within the walls of the Great Hall.
'Because of everything that's happened in the past.' He murmured. 'Maybe I'm asking the impossible? Could we, could you forget about that for now?' He watched the couples glide over the dance floor, a slow and soulful ballad by the Weird Sisters coming to an end. Away from the crowd and in spite of the music, Fred and Angelina did the Highland Fling. Their arms and legs lashed out in all directions and no-one within five feet of them was safe. Fred almost knocked over Professor Flitwick as he inched by the pair. Decked in swirls of silver tinsel, Flitwick resembled a tiny walking Christmas Tree.
On stage the Weird Sisters whirled back and forth, their instruments mirroring the stars twinkling in a pitch-black ceiling. Perched on a giant red bauble, Myron Wagtail now belted out a rousing version of Snowflakes, Stockings 'n' Spells. As he reached a soaring note, Professor McGonagall, who was in charge of the drinks table, conjured a pair of tartan earplugs to jam in either side of her head. And a line of icicles dangling from an overhead rafter, rattled like sleigh bells and threatened to fall into her punch bowl. Even Filch was in a jolly mood - he wore a tatty Santa hat while Mrs Norris prowled up and down with a sprig of holly tied to her collar.
In the centre of the room, Hermione caught sight of Ron who looked rather cross. He and Harry sat with the Patil twins, for all the attention they paid them, their seats may as well be empty. Ron's scowl suggested he'd rather wrestle a blast-ended skrewt than get up to dance. Plus, the only thing of any interest to Harry was Cho Chang. (And perhaps how he could prise her away from Cedric Diggory?) Wherever she moved, his eyes followed; it was as if she had a Golden Snitch glued to her nose. A red tunic barred them from view for a second, as Viktor Krum reached the table. He leant forward to speak to Harry before joining a group of Durmstrang boys. Had he mentioned Karkaroff stopped him from escorting her? Whatever he'd said had quite the effect on Ron. Straight away, he sat up in his chair and turned to study the doorway.
Hermione's heart gave a peculiar leap and she ducked behind Draco.
The moment when Ron spotted them together would come, of course. Still, she wasn't at all ready for it to happen yet. If you're about to light the fuse that blows your life apart forever, you need to make damn well sure you're under cover first.
Her heart leapt again, thumping in her chest as the thought terrified her. It wouldn't be just Ron though, would it? Harry. Ginny. Neville. Fred. George. The whole of Gryffindor. The whole of Hogwarts. What would they make of seeing her with Draco? Her cheeks burned and, for the second time within the space of half an hour, she was pleased the darkness covered her.
If it didn't feel this natural to be in Draco's arms, there wouldn't be a problem. But the rightness of it overwhelmed her. It was the same mix of fear and delight that swished from her wand to run along her body three years ago in Mr Ollivander's shop. With a single flick of vine wood and dragon heartstring, red and gold sparks curved above her like a rainbow; a blaze of sparks which told her fate was now fact.
The ideal fit so to speak.
'Do you want to dance?' Draco asked, taking a slight step towards the crowd. He, at least, seemed ready to let the entire school know they were a couple. Hermione brushed back her hair.
'I'm a bit hot.' She gestured to the open doors. 'Can we stay here for a while?'
Draco nodded. Instead, he pulled a butter beer from his pocket and offered it to her. She took a sip before handing it back. As Malfoy drank, Hagrid and Madame Maxime, dwarfing the other revellers, waltzed by. Hermione held her breath, half-expecting him to call Hagrid a great oaf or worse. To her surprise, he said nothing. From the corner of her eye, she stared at him. The white-blond hair swept over his brow, the skin remained pale and the face pointed. But his behaviour was that out of character, she'd have sworn there was polyjuice potion in his bottle if she hadn't drunk from it herself.
Crabbe and Goyle also noticed these odd goings-on. Hermione saw them gawp as Draco drew over a chair to share with her. And, attempting to gain his attention, they found themselves ignored. Judging by the way their mouths gaped and shut like inebriated trolls, they were confused. (Though surely, confused was Crabbe and Goyle's natural state?)
Yet she couldn't blame them, the evening got stranger by the minute.
Professor Moody and Professor Sinistra had taken on Fred and Angelina in a dancing duel. Moody's kilt flapped in the air when he jumped over two crossed swords. He landed with a loud clunk, his wooden leg hitting the floor hard. And (Hermione's jaw dropped) Professor McGonagall giggled as Dumbledore gave her a peck on the cheek under some mistletoe. At the side of the stage, Professor Sprout undid a box of cackling crackers she'd discovered. Led by the point of her wand, the giant, gold decorations floated above the audience. Displaying a mind of its own, a lone cracker swept along until it hovered by Neville and Ginny. Without warning and as if two invisible hands seized either end to tug, it came apart. A fairy whizzed out to pelt them both with mini plum puddings; she gave a riotous laugh when they scattered to avoid a hail of raisins covered in treacle and Neville almost tipped headlong into a bowl of trifle. A second gold cracker burst open. Peeves, a feverish leer spread across his face and his bell-covered hat flying out behind him, brandished a large, stripy candy cane. As he emerged chortling, he took one look at Millicent Bulstrode gnawing on a chicken leg and chased after her. Shrieking and red-faced, she ran from the Great Hall with him rapping the stick against her ankles.
A third gold cracker had made its way towards Snape. In a distant corner, he and Karkaroff stood apart from everyone else, deep in conversation. Hermione noticed Snape's gaze flick to Harry as they spoke. Whenever anybody wandered close enough to hear their voices, they stopped talking and waited for them to move on. The cracker was inches from Snape's back when it erupted. Waves of green light rolled over the men, giving them the gleam of two wax works. Karkaroff's hand flew to his beard and then to his forearm; he gasped, the cry muffled by the sound of the Weird Sisters. A large green shape reared up behind Snape. It snaked down towards him, fangs bared and mouth wide enough to swallow him whole... Karkaroff now clutched his chest, a look of recognition flashing in his black eyes.
At Karkaroff's alarm, Snape spun round.
Shock tensed his jaw as he saw the old symbol. His fingers grappled for his wand but, in the last second before the Dark Mark reached him, it transformed into a Christmas turkey; a monstrous black and white head that ducked and weaved among the dancers before vanishing in a puff of thick smoke. No image of the green skull and snake remained. It was a glittering yet brief mirage seen by the two Death Eaters.
And Draco.
Stock-still, his eyes didn't move from where the Dark Mark disappeared. Would doing so confirm a terrible reality: Voldemort's malign presence at Hogwarts?
'Draco?' Concern edged Hermione's voice to a whisper. 'What's wrong?' Sat beside him, unable to miss the unease throbbing in his body as the cracker tore open, the jolt of his chest as the snake emerged... She leaned away to get a better look at him.
'What's happened?' Hermione asked, staring about the Great Hall. There was only Seamus and Lavender jigging in front of them and Padma with a boy from Beauxbatons she was teaching to foxtrot.
'My parents.' Draco replied without thinking.
'Your parents.' Hermione repeated, scanning the crowd again as though she'd somehow missed Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. 'Here?'
'What?' Draco said, remembering where he was.
'You mentioned your parents.'
'Never mind, it's nothing. Forget it. Really.' He put his arms around her once more. But this time - Hermione felt it right away - an aura of danger emanated from him like heat. Not to hurt her, that much was clear, but to protect her.
'Are you okay?'
'Of course. I'm fine.' A hint of confusion crept into her words though she could not understand why. And the quiver of uncertainty in her stomach grew, was it because of his family? The comment threw up another sudden problem. If they were a couple, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy would never welcome her into Draco's life. Their hatred of mudbloods doomed any relationship before it began...
And would she have the strength to fight that? The quiver of uncertainty fused into a single thought:
More to the point, would Draco?
'Granger.' He was on his feet, holding out a hand to her.
'Come on. We can't hide forever.' What disturbed Draco moments earlier, had spurred him into action. She knew he was right, they couldn't hide forever; her cheeks aflame, Hermione stepped towards him.
And, in their own little world, their own little perfect, they began to dance.
Draco looked down at her and smiled as she pressed against him, the warmth of his chest relaxing and reassuring. Until, lost in the melody, the one thing to matter was did he ever intend to let her go?
Along the walls of the Great Hall, lanterns flared and people blinked as the room lit up at midnight. The final applause filled the air for the Weird Sisters who threw bits of tinsel and balloons shaped like snowmen into the audience; then, after taking a bow, the group filed from the stage. Dumbledore was already on his feet with his wand held high. The tables and chairs disappeared from view, replaced by those of the four school-houses. Laughter and chattering broke out as students got ready to leave, grumbling it was still far too early to go to bed. Professor McGonagall begged to differ. Removing her earplugs, which made a low pop as she had wedged them so far in, she vanished away the cups and punchbowl. Such was her haste, Neville's cup departed mid gulp and a final sip of Fezzywig's Festive Fizz dribbled down his chin. While Hagrid screwed up the bunch of mistletoe he'd saved for Madame Maxime and chucked it into a nearby bin.
Draco and Hermione noticed none of this.
Locked together, they drifted on the spot, their eyes closed. Draco planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head. At last, Hermione opened her eyes and gazed round. Everyone in the Great Hall watched them, or so it seemed. Wherever she looked, mouths gawked, eyes swelled and lips pursued.
Several inches away stood Ron, his face sagging and his skin paper-white. It looked as if he'd seen his worst ever boggart.