The Balcony Scene
Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy.
The amount of time she spent thinking of him was quite indecent. Not that imaging his violent death was a forbidden thing to do. It was more the amount of time she spent thinking of him not dying which was peculiar. She thought about what his childhood must have been like. She thought about how his life must be now, and what drove him to become a Death Eater. She thought of all the times she spent fighting with him, and all of his bizarre and effecting actions since school.
The object of her thoughts was the type of boy her grandmother would have called a charlatan, and someone, had things been different she would have called 'handsome' which really, was a far too colourless a word for Draco S Malfoy.
Hermione bit her lip. She thought most of all, about what he was doing now. Was he killing, torturing Muggles? Was he being tortured himself?
She heaved a sigh and pulled on the dress, wincing in fear of it ripping, and stood in view of the mirror to examine the results. Peering closer to the reflection she noticed the freckles across her nose stood out more so in the pale dress and began looking for something to cover them.
"Where for out thou concealer?" She asked the small tin in which she kept her make up.
The transformation was unlike one in fourth year, at the Yule Ball, where she'd tamed her hair and looked completely unrecognisable. No, this was just Hermione Granger wearing a way to expensive dress, with slightly redder lips, slightly neater hair and slightly darker eyes, and those childish freckles. She groaned as she turned around only to discover the dress's muslin material clung to her like a second skin.
An embarrassed blush crept across her cheeks. Really what would her parents say if they knew she was dressing like this to party with the Upper Class society of the Wizarding World?
But they weren't here, and they hadn't been for a long time, so with a defiant smile at her reflection that looked ready to commit murder she left her room.
After descending the stairs, as quietly as she could as not to cause a scene (or trip over the bottom of her dress) she pushed open the kitchen door to discover astonished looks on both Harry and Ron's faces, Lavender and Parvati however just smiled. Behind them, in one hand a kettle and the other the invites from the Malfoy's stood Dumbledore his glittering eyes observing them all silently.
Ron blinked at her a few times. "I didn't know you were so tall, Hermione," he said quietly and tried to ignore the giggling from Lavender.
"You look really nice," Harry added shooting a raised eyebrow at his red haired, and now red -faced friend.
"Now, Miss Granger, Miss Patil and Miss Brown – you have a good half of the Order protecting you tonight, so rest assured that we are not sending you into the house of a notorious Death Eater unarmed, although, wands are not allowed inside the Manor." Dumbledore smiled warmly, reassuringly.
"You two aren't going, are you?" Hermione asked, worriedly, it was not often that she, Harry and Ron were separated and the recent divide (Malfoy) had put them all further apart than usual.
"No," Harry answered, "we're staying here, Mr and Mrs Weasley are coming over – and Ginny- just in case something happens," he frowned, "But nothing will go wrong, will it Professor?"
"Absolutely not. Severus will also be there and he assures me that he sincerely doubts the Malfoy's would risk warfare at they're party not after they have gone to great lengths to get yourselves there and reporters from the Daily Prophet. "
Both Harry and Ron snorted in contempt.
Lavender who was wearing a dress of light violet and blonde hair in a high ravelled pony tail at last stopped giggling long enough to say, "But how are we going to get there?" in an excited voice, as though the whole thing was an outing to a party rather than playing along with whatever plan the Malfoy's had in for them.
Dumbledore put down the kettle, he had been waving to emphasise his words and handed the three pieces of parchment to the three girls. "These, they tell me, will take you there, at promptly seven o'clock this evening."
"But it's five to now," Parvati pointed out, her darkly outlined eyes frowning.
"Not a minute too soon or late." Dumbledore confirmed. "Miss Granger, at the end of the evening it would be best if you apparated back here, rather than to find the Order members - and Miss Brown and Miss Patil I would like to express my gratitude and perhaps it would be best if you returned to your retrospective apartments rather than the Head Quarters, unless it deems necessary."
Hermione forgot her delicate dress for a moment, as she flew across the room and embraced her two surprised best friends. Harry drew back to say- "You'll do fine." But Hermione was already gone; all that was left behind was three invites fluttering to the floor, and three rather guilt ridden men.
- - -
Hermione, who hadn't even felt the familiar pull at her belly button, was most surprised when she found herself no longer in the kitchen but sitting in a red leather seat. Presumably the interior of some sort of transport.
"Where are we?" She asked of her two unusually female companions, siting back and smoothing the wrinkles out of her dress.
"It's some kind of coach," Lavender concluded looking out of the windows, "can't see a thing except my reflection."
Parvati raised her thin eyebrows, as Lavender didn't look away from the opaque windows. "Maybe it's like those coaches at Hogwarts…" She suggested.
Just as Hermione was about to open the door and see exactly where she was, the coach, the car, whatever she was in came to a halt. And the door, previously sealed swung open.
If there was one thing that Hermione would learn from the Malfoy Ball, be it not secrets of the Dark Lord, be it not the whereabouts of the Muggle prisoners of war, but she did learn that in fact, that Death Eaters really could throw a party.
As she, Lavender and Parvati climbed (although, she stumbled just as effectively) out of the carriage Hermione was temporarily blinded by the sea of cameras suddenly flashing.
She was not one for gossip or looking at tabloid magazines, but it was well known fact that most celebrities hated the red carpet, and now she knew why.
The Malfoy red carpet was in fact, not red, but black velvet that shimmered with every flash of wizard camera.
Lavender and Parvati looked unfazed as they ascended the walk between the Manor. The blonde gave her an encouraging smile and waved to the cameras.
The catcalls were quite unnerving. Almost instantly every photographer and journalist alike that recognised her as one of Harry Potter's best friend and begun shouting questions.
"Where's Harry tonight?"
"How do you feel about the Malfoy's being supposed Death Eaters?"
"And here we have last years Hogwarts Head girl-"
"She's not quite been able to shake the rumours of dating famous Quidditch players-"
"Looking for a date tonight, Miss Granger?"
Hermione with a deep breath, held her head high and followed suit, only pausing to blink in horror as the familiar voice of Rita Skeeter called out from behind a particularly bright camera, "Oh, Hermione Granger? You look lovely, darling!"
Once reaching the incredible double doors of the building, which due to they're size had been the only part of the building she could see, she turned and gave an unsure wave as the cameras happily flashed away.
The sinisterly cloaked doorman gave them a nod as he opened the seemingly heavy doors.
"You okay, Hermione?" Parvati asked.
She nodded.
"Well…" Lavender trailed off as she finally looked around.
And Hermione wanted to run back outside. Malfoy's hall looked like a scene out of a movie involving the royal family. It was decorated with a checkerboard floor, several chandeliers, and what Hermione supposed half a mile of staircases and doors.
To their right, loud music was coming from the dinning room and there was no going back now.
- - -
Draco could pin point the exact moment Hermione arrived.
The Ballroom was suddenly, shockingly silent.
All forms of banter, compliments, snide comments, gossip and talk stopped, as though a spell had been cast upon them and all eyes were on the three young girls who had just entered. Particularly the girl in front.
Her two companions, one wearing purple, the other wearing blue stood slightly behind her, and Hermione pushing a stray curl out of her face squared her shoulders and defiantly met the eyes of everyone looking at her. Except him.
She looked exotic in a way he couldn't understand. Her dark hair was swept to one side, spiralling down one shoulder. Maybe it was the fact she was the only girl in the room wearing dress robes of gold so light it could have been called as cream, making her skin appear more tanned than you're usual English girl, her cheeks seem flushed, and her brown eyes vivid.
"Imagine, a Mudblood at a Malfoy Ball!" A woman behind him muttered, as though she had smelt something particularly rotten.
Draco sent her a venomous mocking smile, which soon shut her up, before turning back to where Hermione was making her entrance. There was no denying it, nor could anyone in this room argue, but Hermione Granger was beautiful.
And was completely unaware of the effect she had on people.
Suddenly a tall figure blocked his view, and handed him a long glass.
"You look like you could need this." Blaise stated, as he sat down next to his blonde friend.
"Please, Blaise," Draco said sarcastically, "last time I got drunk I started a riot in a nunnery, I hardly think hard liquor is what I need right now."
Blaise grinned. "What kind of Malfoy hides in the corner of his parents party when there are so many innocent young minds to corrupt?"
Draco didn't answer, and starred straight into the thick lime green alcohol for a pensive moment, before swallowing it in one long gulp.
Blaise patted him on the back, heartily. "That's the spirit! Did I mention how incredibly sexy you look tonight?"
"Did I mention how much you resemble a slightly better looking cow, tonight?" Draco tossed back, awarding the dark haired boy wearing white robes an amused glare.
Laughingly Blaise ignored the jibe. "Now, I am going to find myself a Granger to torment, as you seem to want to spend the night alone. Merlin! Have you seen her yet? Just look for the one with silky hair and legs from here-" he made a far-flung gesture with a smile on his face that wasn't entirely nice, "-to forever."
- - -
"Granger."
"Zabini."
"Would it be awfully strange of me to ask you to dance?"
"The only thing that is awfully strange about this conversation is that I have known you for seven years, and this is the only time you have ever spoken to me." Hermione cast him a disdainful look, mirth in her readable wide eyes.
"I was just telling Malfoy-" he pointed at the blonde in the far corner, opposite to the band, whose silver instruments had struck up a soulful melody, "- how sexy he looks tonight, wouldn't you agree?"
The girl frowned, but dared a look over to the corner. "If his robes were a shade darker I would have said he looked a bit like a cow," she said warmly, "do you know where the bathrooms are?"
Blaise's eyes sparkled for a moment, as though he was going to laugh, but instead pointed back out of the hall doors. "Do you know where your lovely Gryffindor friends have gone?"
"They're already on the dance floor." Hermione looked over at her friends, who she had waved off a moment ago, preferring to keep herself company by the drinks table after her rather unusual entrance. Shocked silence did not usually greet her every where she turned. So with a self-depreciating smile she said that they did not need to remain social pariahs along with her.
As she began to leave, setting down an empty glass of who-knows-what, Blaise called after her, "So it's a no to the dance, is it?"
Only too happy to excuse herself from a party were the main hosts had been suspiciously absent, and they're son was brooding in the darkest corner. Not that she minded, as it was probably best she kept to a different side of the room to him at all times. The hatred she felt at him was bubbling through her skin, though sharp remarks and a trace of angry blush were her only weapons tonight.
Finally with a sigh she reached the toilets, or at least an elaborate door marked WC and was just about to bang upon it when she heard a muffled sound. Pressing her ear against the door with a suspicious look around she heard two voices. One sounding peculiarly like Pansy Parkinson, and the other, that Quidditch brute Marcus Flint.
"- Of course everyone expected Malfoy to be the one to kill 'er."
"Why's that, Marky?"
"Well you know them damn Malfoy's – reckon they're so high and bloody mighty because they're related to-"
"What?"
"-You know what they say. Veela's. Vampires. All sorts."
"What has that got to do with you killing that Auror girl?"
There was a bang, and Flint's voice rose in anger. "Are you not listening? Everyone thought that Draco had killed her. In fact, he got hit with a curse the moment he stepped in the place. Suck, he was, right in a body bind right until I Adva'd her. Even your husband pats him on the back and says well done. Do I get a mention? No. And that blonde pansy- no offence- just stands there looking like something just kicked him in the ribs- "
"And what has this got to do with me?"
"Well I thought you could put a good word in with Nott for me-"
Hermione had heard enough. She no longer felt the need for the toilet; in fact her gut had twisted into writhing snakes named anger and hatred, they coursed through her, stronger than before. And then an icy feeling swam through her veins. Draco hadn't killed Tonks; he must have been the first person to enter the room, got stunned, then Flint, Crabbe and Goyle blasted they're way through and then Malfoy must have ordered everybody out whilst he woke her up. She put a hand to her face as she turned back towards the party – guilt stinging her.
She hadn't even given him a chance. Just point blank called him a murderer. Hermione cursed herself silently; remembering how his graceful poise suddenly had turned to granite. She, the one who had always been first to rush to his defence in school, to point out that he was not his father, she who, however bitterly, declare him innocent, had jumped to conclusions while he tried to help her for the second time.
She retreated to a secluded table once more, and as she watched her friends dance with some of the most powerful wizards in England, all handsome, all looking like regular teenagers except for that steely glint of malice and power in their eyes, Hermione wanted to apologise to Malfoy, wanted to assure him that she at least though him better that this. Better than power struggles and back stabbing.
But she couldn't. Because she was still Hermione Granger who he had probably just helped out of a sense of fair play. She was still a know-it-all friend of Harry Potter, she was still fighting for Muggle Borns, Dumbledore and all the equal rights she believed in. Three things that her twice-silver-smiled-saviour most defiantly didn't believe in.
- - -
Draco, watching the room a lion would watch his prey immediately saw the girl made of gold re-enter the room, one hand covering her mouth as through she had just walked in on something she wasn't supposed to see in an endearing manner.
He smiled the slow widening grin of a predator and excused himself from the girls, all with similar robes who had flocked around Blaise and himself.
A low voice shot through his tainted thoughts.
"Are you doing anything - or anyone - special after the festivities, Draco? Because maybe you and I-"
"Lets not and say we did, Millicent." He replied casually, side stepping the curvy ex-classmate, whom, by the looks of things did not know that other colours beside green and silver existed.
- - -
Oh no, not good.
Not good at all.
Draco Malfoy was approaching her slowly, looking heart-stopingly exquisite in robes of smudged charcoal grey, one eye brow raised in amusement of what probably was her looking like a deer caught in headlights.
Hermione frantically searched for the exits, but a mass of dancers blocked her view.
"Dance with me?" He asked, suddenly in front of her and suddenly extending a hand. At her pause he smiled as if they shared a secret. "I dare you."
She pointedly ignored him.
"Don't you like dancing?" He asked, getting closer, peering down at her on her chair through long lashes.
"I do," she said sweetly, as she stood up, "but not with you." She pushed past him, and headed towards a door she hadn't seen before, in such a hurry she didn't notice him follow her.
Behind swept back black satin curtains was a balcony – the size of nearly the whole of her old Muggle semi-detached house – and all she could see was grey.
Grey was the marble floor.
Grey was the night that stretched out in front of her.
And grey were the eyes of the boy behind her.
"Oh… my." were the only words she could muster.
Where the rounded balcony stopped, the world ended. Like a pathway of a giant the clouds were all she could see, but not above her, close enough she could nearly reach out and touch them. So Hermione, ever curious, tried.
Leaning over the delicate chest high wall that could have been sculptured by an artist she reached out into the mist, stretching –
"You look like an angel."
The statement, honest, and not made particularly as a complement startled the girl.
"Malfoy," she snapped, spinning around, a blush rising in her cheeks in embarrassment, "don't tell me you believe in angels."
"But I do." He said simply.
She turned away from him, wishing he would just, "go away."
He sent her a wide smile, making her remember the time they spent together in the Order's basement – where he was uncomfortably close and she could almost feel him smirking through his words.
"It's my house." He laughed, daring her to reply as he leaned far too gracefully for her liking next to her on the wall. "I forgot how beautiful this place is when the clouds are low. I don't know if its because the Manor is so high up, or that it's magical – because this is the only place in England where you can see Venus in the evening sky." He pointed upwards, towards the multicoloured sky and the one star that could be seen.
"How romantic," she commented dryly, trying to avoid looking at him. But she couldn't help it; she starred at the side of his face for a long moment. Biting her lip as she studied his cheekbones, his silver eyes looking at the stars, and his own lips, while he pretended not to notice. Then he swung his gaze on hers. The silence stretched, until Hermione found herself speaking.
"Why?"
Draco's eyebrows, which had been amusedly raised, flickered into a frown. "Why did I kill the Auror?" He asked sardonically.
"No. I know you didn't. But why didn't you kill me?"
He shrugged. It seemed to Hermione that he himself didn't know why – or didn't want to admit it. "For my own purposes." Was all he said, a slow easy smile sending a new shock through her.
"I don't think so," Hermione said, annoyed that he was treating this like a game, "I don't think that was the reason at all."
"Don't push me, Granger," he said darkly, the wild smile not reaching his eyes, as he stretched a long-fingered hand towards her.
"I think maybe you need to be pushed," she replied, and took it.
Would like to dedicate this chapter to foxxglove, Caprigrrl Lannoire, Thalion'81, and Arafel2. Three cheers for reviewers!
Lustful Authors Note: By far my very favourite chapter. Many apologies for that last one. This one was so easy to write, and very fun too, because who doesn't love plot-build-up-for-D/Hr-scenes? Named after the scene in Romeo and Juliet, which doesn't happen at all like this one. (All you Shakespeare fans will recognise the lines "Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy" and "Where for out thou concealer?" my attempt at getting sued by the Bard. J/k) Written whilst listening to Red Hot Chilli Peppers, reading "Blood and Chocolate" by Annette Curtis Klause, and inspired by The Struggle by L. J. Smith.
Lustful Authors Disclaimer: Am I English? Check. Am I blonde? No. Am I JKR? No.
Lustful Reviewers:
Arafel2 - I hope you enjoyed the D/Hr scenes.
Thalion'81 - thank you once again for you beaming review! It really made me laugh :) I'm glad you liked Blaise, ducks from Hermione's dancing
candygoddess - there's nothing like a dress to prove you're actually a girl, eh?
KristenW07 - thanks for reading and reviewing :) come back soon!
Narcissa black Malfoy - I have fans? blushes thank you muchly, Madame Malfoy. I will write more, honest!
foxxglove - I know! Chapter 5 = WORST CHAPTER EVER. I think it's probably because it was just meant to be the start of the ball scene, but then it got slightly longer than anticipated. Thanks very much for your honesty!
hyparly4suger- Glad you liked that line. Hope you like the chapter :)