Chapter Two:
Paper Faces on Parade
Harry and Ron fought to contain themselves when Hermione emerged from the bathroom. They both made special efforts to keep their mouths shut and their eyes normal.
"What do you think?" Hermione spun in a circle, the fabric swishing about her figure. Both boys stuttered and stammered, awkwardly. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Forget I asked. Go get changed. We're almost at Hogwarts." The boys silently exited the room. Hermione sighed, happily, remembering how much she loved this costume. She twirled around a few more times, enjoying the layers of fabric spinning with her. When Ron entered the compartment, followed by Harry, Hermione had to cough loudly so as not to laugh. Ron's costume was a salmon. The pinkish sequins made up the fish scale pattern, and the mask was a vibrant coral.
"Don't...say...a word." Ron hissed as he sat down. Harry snorted in an attempt to hide a laugh. Hermione directed her attention to the Boy Who Lived. His costume was less humiliating. The midnight blue robes swept to the floor, and the mask held several sapphire feathers. Hermione giggled.
"You two look so adorable," She sat down between her best friends. Ron, who had been grumbling curses under his breath, paused as her arms went around their shoulders.
"You don't look so bad yourself, you know." Ron's eyes swept over her, quickly, hoping she wouldn't notice. But she did.
"Don't make me blind you again, Ronald Weasley." She lifted her arms from around their shoulders and rose to her feet. "If you two are good for the next few hours, I promise you both a dance." Harry and Ron both swore to keep their hormones at ease. The train lurched to a stop, propelling Hermione into Harry's lap. He caught her, clumsily, and just stared down at her, not sure of what to do next. When the train had come to a full and complete stop, Hermione took it upon herself to stand up.
"Come on." She pulled both of the boys to their feet and dragged them out into the corridors, which were rapidly filling with students in costumes. Excited giggles and chatter filled the air, and soon, Hermione's heart was beating faster with anticipation. The carriage ride to the castle was silent. The moonlight streamed in through the window of the horseless buggy, casting an eerie shadow upon them all. They soon came to a halt, and students poured out and entered the familiar halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"I wonder who the Head Boy is." Hermione murmured aloud as they walked past the portraits of the Head Girl and Boy from last year.
"Bet you anything it's Malfoy. That slimy git's father has enough influence over what happens at this school, making sure Malfoy was Head Boy was probably no problem." Ron muttered, murderously. Hermione was barely listening. Her eyes kept floating about the crowded halls and sweeping over the various colors and costumes of the different students. The Great Hall was decorated nicer than Hermione could remember. The first year students were all huddled nervously in one corner at the front of the room. Their costumes were all simple and colorful. Hermione thought they all looked adorable. After assuming their seats at the Gryffindor table, Hermione, Harry, and Ron began to converse with the rest of the Gryffindors. Hermione and Ginny hugged in greeting.
"Hermione, you look amazing!"
"Oh thanks Ginny. Believe it or not, your brother was practically drooling the entire train ride up."
"Is that so? I'll have to have a word with him."
"You look great too, Ginny. That sky blue looks really pretty on you."
"Thanks, Hermione. Ron thought it was too fancy."
"Well Ron looks like a fruit, so don't listen to anything he says." Ginny laughed and Hermione joined in. Ron glared at the two girls, knowing that they had been talking about him. Harry attempted to cheer Ron up by pointing out a Ravenclaw boy wearing a purple costume. It did not appear to work.
"So, Ginny, when are you going to ask Harry out?" Hermione smiled at Ginny. The red head blushed deeply.
"Not so loud!" Hermione laughed and continued in a soft voice.
"He fancies you, you know. He's been talking about you a lot."
"Really?" Ginny's eyes sparkled, hopefully.
"Honest." Hermione glanced over at Harry, who was eyeing her suspiciously. A blonde haired girl from Hufflepuff came over to Ginny.
"I saw him again Ginny! I passed him in the corridor!" Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"Who?" Ginny smiled.
"We don't know! But he's positively gorgeous and he's in all white and silver." Hermione glanced around the Great Hall, not seeing anyone in pure white.
"He even glanced at me for a second! I thought I was going to die!" The girl continued with excitement. Hermione tried not to roll her eyes. She had never been one of those girls who spent their time mooning over guys. She would rather curl up somewhere with a book. Even so, she felt different this year...like she could finally relax. Possessed by this new sense of serenity, she took another glance around the hall, searching for the boy Ginny had described. She turned back around, disappointed, but decided to find him later at the ball.
"If I might have your attention?" Dumbledore rose from his seat and proclaimed. The Hall grew silent. "Once the Sorting has been completed and the food has been served, the masquerade ball will officially begin. With no further ado, Professor McGonagall, would you proceed with the sorting process?" As the first years were sorted into the houses, Hermione glanced about the Hall, looking for possible Head Boys. Justin Finch-Fletchly, perhaps. Maybe even Terry Boot. He was smart enough the past few years. Before she knew it, the food appeared on the table before her. Ron immediately began to dig in, shoveling food onto his plate. Harry glanced at the gray mush on Ron's plate.
"What is that?"
"Dunno." He took a finger full and stuck it in his mouth. "It's good, though." Hermione daintily piled some food onto her plate, feeling the odd sensation that someone was watching her. She chose to ignore it as she continued to eat. Ginny was chatting excitedly with Parvati about the mysterious man in silver and white. Harry and Ron were arguing over something about Quidditch. Hermione sighed, deciding not to get involved with any of the conversations around her. Instead, she allowed her mind to wander to her book. She put herself in the place of the girl in her story, and tried to imagine what it was like. She was shaken from her daydream by Ginny pulling on her arm.
"Come on, Hermione! Let's find someone to dance with!" Hermione blinked. The plates had all been cleared, and music was starting to fill the room. Smiling, Hermione stood up and allowed Ginny to pull her into the crowds of people. A timid Neville Longbottom approached her.
"Uh, Hermione?"
"Yes, Neville?" Hermione smiled at him. She knew what he wanted, but part of being a girl is knowing how to tease.
"Would you, um, would you like to, uh, dance?" He finally asked, his face beet red.
"Certainly, Neville. I'd love to dance with you."
"Really?" Neville looked as though he were about to pass out. Hermione took his hand, charmed her mask to cover her face, and began to dance. Neville followed her moves awkwardly, and Hermione was proud that he only stepped on her toes twice. The song ended, and Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder. Harry stood there, grinning and holding out his hand.
"You promised."
Draco scanned the Great Hall. The ball had begun, and the floors were flooded with color. One color in particular stood out more so than the others. A bright crimson red with an intricate design in gold. He recognized the sleek brown hair that just reached her shoulders. It was the nameless girl in white he'd seen earlier. He watched her twirl around the dance floor with that incommodious clod, Neville Longbottom. She was far too graceful for the likes of him. The song ended, and Draco took a few steps in her direction. He paused when Harry Potter approached her, holding out his hand. Draco fumed as the girl placed her own graceful hand in Potter's clumsy one. It was easy to see that Potter had no experience in ballroom dancing. Draco had been to his share of important events alongside his father. He had been required to dance with some girls every so often, so his mother had insisted upon having him take lessons. Draco shuddered. It was one of the more degrading moments of his life. Coming in at a close second was wearing this stupid costume in public. He was careful to keep his face hidden by the mask, and when he got tired of peering through the eye holes in the mask, he tipped his hat down far enough so it cast a shadow over his features. He looked on in envy as Potter spun the girl around the room. They were talking and laughing, or so it appeared, as though they had been friends for years. If they had, then why hadn't Draco noticed before? It seemed like it had been forever when the song finally ended. With no one advancing on the crimson lady, he strolled towards her. He felt his heart racing as he took hold of her arm. She turned around to face him, and he was sure he heard a breath catch in her throat.
"So you're the man in silver and white." She smiled, sweetly. Draco raised an eyebrow. He definitely liked her smile.
"Is that what they're calling me?"
"You seem to be the talk of female conversation."
"Your female conversation?"
"Perhaps. Are you going to dance with me or not?" Draco grinned at her demand. Normally, he wouldn't let a girl order him around. He made exceptions for beautiful ones.
"First tell me your name, m'lady."
"I like that title better than the name I have."
"I'd still like to know your real name."
"The point of a masquerade ball is that you don't know whom you're dancing with. I don't know who you are, so it is only fair that you don't know who I am." Draco sensed defeat, so he extended his hand.
"Might I have this dance, my lady?" She accepted, and Draco silently cheered himself on. His arm slipped around her small waist and her slender fingers intertwined with his.
"I like your hat." Draco grinned. He knew this ridiculous hat would come in handy for something.
"You're not ticklish, are you? This feather has more uses than decorative purposes."
"You wouldn't dare." He made sure she could see clearly into his eyes when he replied.
"Are you sure about that?" He twirled her in a circle and pulled her back, pressing her tiny figure against his broad self. He inhaled her sweet perfume and felt her heart beating in the quickened rhythm along with his own. They both stood there for a moment, not sure whether to pull away or to remain. He finally spun her away from him, flustered by his hesitation to make a move on her. There was something so familiar about her, it intrigued him, as well as made him nervous. There was something so oddly comfortable about the way she fit in his embrace, as though they were meant for each other all along. When the song ended, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, softly.
"Might I have another dance later on?" Draco held his breath, waiting for her response. She smiled, sweetly, and he was quickly captivated. Her amber eyes sparkled behind her mask.
"You may have another dance now." Draco grinned and replaced his hand on the small of her back. He was sweating slightly from dancing in the yards of heavy fabric. His mask stayed in place the entire evening, and he noticed her own mask never left her face. He found it somewhat odd, but rather intriguing.
"So m' lady, are you a Gryffindor, or does your costume just happen to be red and gold?" He asked, conversationally.
"I am a Gryffindor. Seventh year." Draco cursed in his mind. A Slytherin dating a Gryffindor wouldn't go over very well with some of his fellow Slytherins. Yes, he was already thinking about dating. But she was a seventh year...making her more accessible.
"I'm a Slytherin. Seventh year also."
"So we're breaking some sort of unwritten rule by dancing with one another, aren't we? I doubt very much my fellow Gryffindors would appreciate my dancing with a Slytherin."
"The same goes here. The rest of the Slytherins would probably excommunicate me." The girl laughed, and Draco felt his heart race. Her laughter was beautiful. It rang out clear and full of happiness and amusement.
"All the more reason to hide our identities, I suppose." She giggled. Suddenly a large pink object bumped, clumsily, into the swift pair. Draco glared at Ron Weasley.
"Sorry. Cutting in. You promised me a dance." Ron spoke to the girl, not even glancing at Draco.
"Excuse me, sir. Come find me later. You were an excellent dance partner." The girl smiled at Draco, erasing all of the murderous thoughts flowing through Draco's mind. With that, Weasley ushered the beautiful girl away.
"Drakie! There you are! Dance with me!" Pansy's voice came from right behind him.
"You know I hate it when you call me that, Pansy." Draco didn't turn around to face her, knowing that when he did, it would be a night of never ending dancing with Pansy. And he wanted another dance with that girl. That girl who could captivate his thoughts with a mere smile. That girl who's laughter calmed and soothed him, relieving him of any unpleasant thoughts. That girl who seemed so familiar...yet how could he have known such a beautiful girl for so long without noticing?
"Dance with me, Draco!" Pansy tugged on his arm, wrenching Draco from his fantasies about the mysterious girl. Draco rolled his eyes and turned to her.
"One dance, Pansy. One. Not ten, one." Draco spoke slowly and deliberately so she couldn't deny hearing him. Her face fell with disappointment, but she nodded reluctantly. Dancing with Pansy was like trying to dance with an elephant. There was just no graceful way of going about it. She stepped on his feet three times, and Draco was sure he heard a crack the third time. His foot throbbed painfully when he finally limped off to the sidelines. He got himself some pumpkin juice and sat down, massaging his foot. He peeled his mask away from his face, relieved that he had found a charm to hold it in place, and adjusted his hat so that a shadow was cast over his features. His head snapped up when he heard a loud, shrill voice. He was in time to see his lovely lioness leaving the Great Hall as quickly as she could. Draco narrowed his eyes at her last dance partner. A Slytherin Draco hadn't really taken the time to know. There was a red mark on the Slytherin's cheek. He slapped his mask to his face and strolled nonchalantly over to the Slytherin.
"You there! What's your name?" Draco demanded of the boy. The boy stared at Draco with a smirk on his lips.
"Blaise Zabini...and who might you be?" Draco narrowed his eyes at the defiance in Zabini's tone.
"Never mind. What did you do to that girl?" Zabini shrugged his shoulders easily.
"Nothing she didn't want."
"I'm sure. That's why she slapped you, correct?" The smirk left Zabini's face.
"The bitch slapped me for no legitimate reason. It's a damn shame I didn't catch her name, of course it's lucky for her." Draco lost his temper. He grabbed the collar of Zabini's robes and stared at the poor excuse of a Slytherin.
"Don't ever disrespect a girl like that again." Draco left the hall in search of the girl.
Hermione kicked a rock into the lake. It landed with a satisfying plunk, and sank. Something in the lake stirred, but she didn't even take notice. It was a fairly cool September night, and the cool breeze blew her hair into her face. She brushed it away and kicked another rock into the lake.
"Prick." She muttered under her breath. The many disadvantages of growing into a beautiful young woman...men can't control themselves. Except for that man in silver. No, he had managed to remain decent through a dance. Even Harry and Ron had glanced up and down her figure a few times. But that last dance partner was simply out of control. Eyeing her like she was some sex toy on display. When his hands had moved up and down her body, she had drawn the line. He deserved that slap across the face. She wished the mask she had pulled off her face and was holding down at her side was her wand. She would have shown that inconsiderate, adolescent creep a thing or two. A shadow appeared on the ground to her left, and she froze. Mask to her face, she whipped around to see who it was. She let out the breath she had been holding in when she saw the mysterious silver knight standing there. The sequins on the costume twinkled like the millions of stars above, but Hermione was mainly concentrating on the eyes behind the mask. They seemed to read deep into her soul, which frightened and excited her at the same time. The gray blue color was gorgeous to Hermione, and when she looked at him, she found it difficult to look away. Had this Slytherin been going to this school all along? If he had, then how had he slipped by unnoticed? He took a few steps toward her, and Hermione felt her heart race wildly.
"Not the most charming man, is he?" The silver knight asked in a low voice.
"What is wrong with me? What is it about me that makes men turn into jerks?" She stopped, realizing how dumb that question was. She was about to tell him not to answer those, when he spoke.
"It's not your fault you're beautiful. It's their fault for not being able to control themselves." The silver knight sat down on the stone bench overlooking the lake. The moon disappeared behind a dark cloud, dousing the little light there had been. She found the bench and sat down next to the mystery man.
"Who are you?" Hermione's voice came out as a whisper. In the dark, she sensed him turn to face her.
"You want to spoil the fun?" His breath was warm on her face, and Hermione was sure he could hear her heart beating.
"Yes...I mean no, I mean-" She stammered. A soft finger brushed against her cheek sending shivers of excitement down her spine. She felt his hand cover hers, as his other hand rested gently on her neck. She felt him shift, leaning closer to her.
"Would you hate me so terribly if I kissed you, m' lady?" His voice was so low, Hermione could barely hear it. She shook her head, almost begging him to kiss her immediately. Her mask left her face and fell down at her side, and she tried to get a better look at the silver knight. But the moon was gone, and she couldn't see his features. Her forehead hit the brim of his hat when he leaned in, and they both laughed softly. Hermione carefully lifted the hat allowing his lips to brush against hers in a shy kiss. Electrified by the contact, Hermione shuddered and moved even closer to his body. His arm went around her back and he kissed her again, less intuitive this time. The blood rushed through her veins furiously as he deepened their kiss. The passion burning inside of her grew steadily. A sudden loud bang caused the two to spring away from each other, surprised and confused. Hermione recognized Harry and Ron's silhouettes in the doorway to the castle.
"There you are! We've been looking everywhere for you!" Harry called. Then he eyed the silver figure next to her suspiciously. Hermione interrupted Harry before he could inquire.
"I'll be in soon, Harry. If you have some punch waiting for me when I get back, I'll give you another dance." Harry nodded reluctantly, and dragged Ron with him back inside. Once again plunged into darkness, Hermione sighed. The silver knight beside her stood up.
"I suppose this is good night then." He spoke in a husky voice.
"No, the masquerade ball isn't over for another hour."
"I am going to retire early." Hermione's heart sank. She stood up and touched his arm. Her left hand was still holding his hat.
"Will I see you during classes?"
"Yes." There was a pause.
"Who are you?" She asked for the second time. The knight sighed.
"The one you least expected." He walked away, but paused at the door. "Keep the hat. It will be the only reminder you'll have of this silver knight." The door opened and he disappeared. It shut with an empty slam. Hermione sank onto the bench. What was that supposed to mean? She wondered. She was so caught up in thinking about her silver knight, she went right up to the Gryffindor common rooms and collapsed onto her bed. She played with the feather on the white hat, unconsciously. As hard as she tried to fall asleep, her mind was too full. The aftershock of the kisses they shared still existed inside of her. When the rest of the girls in her dormitory filed in from the masquerade, Hermione pretended to be sleeping. She listened to Lavender and Parvati talking about Seamus. They giggled and whispered, thinking that they were being considerate to the 'sleeping' Hermione. Truthfully, if Hermione had been asleep, she certainly would have woken up. Ginny was voicing her concerns about Hermione.
"Harry was worried to death about her! He said he saw her sitting outside with that gorgeous guy in white. Anyway, he said that she was supposed to come in and dance with him one more time." Hermione cursed silently. Poor Harry. She made a mental note to remember to apologize profusely the next morning.
"Hermione was with that guy? Good God! He was so breathtaking!" Parvati squealed. Lavender was agreeing with Parvati, but Hermione wasn't listening anymore. Her thoughts once again wandered to her white knight. He had been the nicest, most handsome, considerate boy she had met at Hogwarts this year. Now she'd probably never see him again...or would she? He had told her that she would see him in classes, but from the way he put it, she wouldn't be seeing the same person.
Hermione awoke early the next morning. She glanced out the window to see the sun just beginning to peak over the horizon. Everyone else was still sleeping, so she got up as quietly as she could manage and left the dorms. The common room was empty, as she had imagined. The fire was blazing as always. Still in her long white nightgown, Hermione exited the common room and left the Gryffindor tower. Her bare feet made little noise as she walked down the stone-floored halls. Opening the tall oak doors to the outdoors quietly proved to be difficult, but she managed. The sun had risen just a little more in the sky, casting a pinkish coloring on the sky. A few stars still twinkled here and there, but were beginning to fade as daylight came. The grass was wet with dew under her feet, but she barely noticed or cared. The lake was deathly still with an eerie mist forming just above the surface. Hermione's eyes lingered on the stone bench where she and her silver knight had sat the night before. She lowered herself onto the bench to watch the sunrise. The colors in the sky began to vary, and the last star had disappeared from sight. A bright red cardinal flew overhead, stretching its elegant wings in graceful strokes. Hermione sighed. I should do this more often. As the last fraction of the sun rose above the horizon, she reluctantly walked back to the castle doors. She didn't want anyone to know that she had gone. Harry and Ron were already worried about her, and she didn't want to have to explain something else. Little did she know, she was being watched. By the person she least expected.