Author's Note: It's been a while, I know, but here is chapter seven. In this chapter I've approached the ball, but it is not the complete night. So the rest shall be in the next chapter. Enough of my rambling though, sit back and enjoy. Remember to tell me what you think at the end too!

Acknowledgements: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed – the only reason I continue is because you spur me on.

Inclination

Chapter Seven

Everything can be broken down into one simple form. Relationships, like chemistry, involve a compound consisting of at least two elements. These elements are the building blocks to everything – love, passion, desire, lust, hate. Without them there would be a void of despair because nothing would out run the boredom of a lifeless life. Alone there is no reaction…

Glamorous lights spilt across the room, soaking it in vivid colours. From the walls bounced not only light, but the constant drone of gentle music mixed with the tang of rock. The air was fizzy with energy – excitement, worry, enjoyment, hilarity and depression swirled together into one bomb of teenage emotion. Overhead dangled mistletoe and extravagant baubles of every colour and size. Everything glistened as the aroma of hot spicy joy edged through the air with the subtly of sledgehammer.

Overall Hogwart's was filled with what could only be described as Christmas.

Hermione smiled to herself as she watched the scene unfolding before her like a giant jigsaw. When she'd arrived about an hour ago, the dance floor had stood bare and forgotten. Around the sides had stood children of all ages, a look of fear on their faces as they considered dancing. No one wanted to start though – to walk out there alone whilst everyone watched. A smile had curled her lip at the familiarity of the situation.

Soon though, the people had moved as one and the dancing had begun. No one judged anyone else's dance skills, knowing their own was probably worse. Smiles burnt their faces with glory. They knew they were having the time of their lives. Never again would there be a party exactly the same as this one. Every moment counted in a world on the brink of total war.

In contrast to this happiness there were some unhappy faces in the crowd. They mostly belonged to the few boys and girls sat round the room, staring glassy eyed at the swirling people. Maybe they felt rejected by the body of couples and friends. Loneliness wasn't the answer though, Hermione considered. If she were alone at a party, she would make it look like she didn't care, so no one knew what she really felt like.

Crossing her arms across her chest, she viewed the girls preening themselves over by the buffet. They were all so young and beautiful – it made her feel quite old and ugly compared to these slender creatures. She never remembered looking anything like them when she was their age. Her body had been clumsy and untrained at catching the eyes of stray boys. She hadn't understood that all it took was a bit of confidence. Even now she wasn't sure if she could be quite as graceful as they were.

'Professor?'

'Hmm?' Hermione turned slightly and smiled at the group of young girls awaiting her attention. 'What is it I can do for you?'

'We were just wondering…' spoke up the leader of the group, a short round mousey haired girl. 'Will Oliver Wood be coming to the ball?'

Her eyebrows arched instantly at the question. It had never even entered her mind that these pupils would know her as Oliver "The Sex God" Wood's girlfriend. Now though, she felt stupid at not having been prepared for questions like this. After all he was a teenage girl's dreamboat with his dark hair, piercing eyes and sporting agility. A certain amount of pride flushed through her body – she had something they couldn't.

'I'm afraid he's playing tonight, girls. But if he does make an appearance, I'll be sure to tell you first,' she winked at them conspiratorially. 'Just don't let him know I told you, okay?'

The gang of girls nodded enthusiastically and departed, bored now of their new professor. Hermione smiled to herself - at least they hadn't wanted to know if Harry would be joining them. She'd been tempted to invite him, so she could avoid loneliness, but the thought of the half crazed mob had put her off. In the end she had decided to go it alone. After all even if she did invite Harry, Ron or Oliver, they would probably end up in a fight with Malfoy.

Talking of Malfoy, she wondered, where on earth was he? He should have joined her an hour ago to oversee the ball, but somehow it had ended up with her alone. Dumbledore was there along with a few of the other older teachers, but for once Hermione craved for company of her own age. This meant having to talk to Draco, a thought that was just a little too attractive for her at the moment. The desire though had slowly turned to anger, the longer she stood like a silly schoolgirl waiting for him. She'd realised how ridiculous she must have looked standing at the door, glancing about for a tall blonde and moved to the back of the room.

After the meeting, she had been flushed and uncomfortable. Her skin had burnt with lust and embarrassment. How dare he kiss her in such a vulnerable place? The fact that she couldn't muster enough anger about him kissing her in the first place was worrying her too. It would be all too simply for her to simply slip back into old habits. It'd be too easy for her to wrap her arms round him and kiss the top of his head affectionately. Those had been the moments she'd loved most – where he was silent and she dominating and powerful for once. It had given her ego such a boost to be needed by such an arrogant pig.

'Daydreaming about Wood again?'

Closing her eyes for a second, she determined that she would remain calm and not lose her temper with him. 'If you must know, I was thinking about the time he asked me to dance when there was no music playing,' she lied. 'It was incredibly romantic. He led me out onto the floor and pulled me close. He was so tender…though I wouldn't expect you to understand that.'

'You would know Granger,' he said gently in a voice she knew meant danger.

'Oh, you wouldn't believe how much,' she continued to push him. 'Let's just say that there are some things he will always be better then you at.'

'Well it's a good job I have no intention of becoming a well known airhead, isn't it?'

Hermione turned to face him, a scowl etched into her face. 'Shut up Malfoy.'

A smile tilted his face slightly, making him look like a completely different person. 'Ouch Granger, that almost hurt my poor cold hearted feelings.'

'Feelings?' she sneered. 'I thought you lost those when you had that ugly Dark Mark burnt into your arm!'

The smile that was beginning to make its way onto his face fell away at the might of his anger. His eyes seemed to darken over like storm clouds, and his body prickled uncontrollably. Inwardly she gulped, maybe she shouldn't have pushed him this far. His hand came up quickly and grabbed her arm – his fingers dug into her creamy flesh, exposed by the new dress she was wearing for the occasion. Leaning forward, his mouth brushed against her ear. 'Don't worry Granger, I won't tell anyone you loved me if you don't,' he hissed menacingly.

'Let go of me,' she whispered unsteadily.

'I'm tired of this Hermione,' he continued. 'I'm tired of you pushing and pushing until you get a reaction. It's like you want to make me angry, simply because you can. Maybe even push me over the edge. Then when you succeed you don't like it. Do you? One of these days you're not going to be able to worm your way out of the conversation we will have to have. There'll be no more hiding behind your precious boyfriend and pride.'

With that he released her arm and took a step back. She looked up and found herself gazing into his eyes. He was watching her, looking at the dress and her hair. It was almost as if he were examining her and weighing her up. The dress, she had to admit, had been an expense on her account. She'd wanted to look pretty though. She'd wanted Draco to look at her and see what he'd given up the right to touch. All the feelings of anger and resentment for the way he had left her had balled up as she handed over the money for the deep purple ball gown. It was sleeveless with a corset at the top and a billowing skirt at the bottom. It screamed vixen at the time, but she didn't feel much of one now she was stood in front of him.

'Where were you?' she asked quietly, trying to dissolve the tension.

'I was busy. Miss me?'

'Yes.'

He nodded slowly and leant against the wall behind him casually. 'What are we doing here Granger?'

'Our jobs,' she replied snidely.

'No I meant here…' he gestured between the two of them. 'Why is it so difficult for you to admit you don't hate me as much as you like to make out?'

'I could ask you the same question,' she said indignantly. 'And anyway, I do hate you.'

Draco's eyebrows arched in amusement. It was clear that he thought differently, and he could possibly be right. She found it difficult to admit to anyone that she had been truly, madly, deeply in love with her worst enemy. Only Ginny knew her dark secret, and yet she had never viewed any negative opinion of the relationship. At the time, Hermione had thought it was odd. If Ginny was alright with her having a relationship with the monster of the school, then why wasn't she?

She could remember the first time she had glanced at him in the Great Hall when no one had been looking. It'd been after a few mad kisses and she had wondered what he had looked like when he wasn't aware of her prying eyes. It had been nothing special, just a miserable looking Draco munching on some toast. Somehow though it had made her feel like she was too hot to be in her skin. All she had wanted to do was run over and give him a big hug, ask him what was wrong, and then go back to her friends. That moment of warmth had made her feel uncomfortable amongst her best friends. They would never understand.

'What was it that took you a whole hour then?' she changed the conversation.

'As I said, I was busy.'

'Doing what?'

'Wrapping presents,' he replied sarcastically. 'It's none of your business what I was doing. All you need to know is that I was busy, but I'm here now. Though I don't see why you should need me. You seem to be coping fine on by yourself.'

'How would you know? You haven't exactly been here to see me "coping" with the ball, have you?' Hermione said dryly.

There was silence as they both looked at each other. A sense of rivalry lingered in the air and for a split second Hermione felt like she had at school. He was a Slytherin' and she desperately wanted to beat him – at everything and anything. She wanted to show the world that she was better then him. School rivalry was the only thing that hadn't seemed to have changed between them.

'So how is Plank?' Draco asked casually. 'I'm taking it you didn't just dress up for my benefit.'

'He's playing tonight, so he can't come,' he heart sunk slightly.

'Oh. Too busy hitting a ball about to come and wish his girlfriend a Merry Christmas. Doesn't seem very tender if you ask me. I thought he was dedicated to you?' he muttered in obvious contempt of the man she loved. 'Or is it more of a case that he's playing away from home?'

Her hand itched to slap that look from his face, but her rational mind came into play. What would the students think if she started to hit their teacher? It wouldn't exactly give the impression she wanted. 'He's coming tomorrow first thing to make up for it, if you must know. Though it is none of your business Draco. Do I sense jealousy that I have someone else after years of hearing nothing from you?'

A grim smile tugged the corner of his mouth. 'I knew it would swing back round to this. I'll do you a deal, okay? I won't ask you annoying questions, if you don't too. We'll call it a truce…Christmas spirit almost.'

'You're willing to be nice to me in the name of Christmas spirit?!' she smiled at him in amusement. 'What happened to the Malfoy I know and…erm…you must be going soft.'

Draco nodded and dragged a hand through his hair. Instead of dressing up for the occasion, he had come in simple long black robes. His hair was loose for a change and hung about his face appealingly. To her he looked like a blonde version of Snape – just younger and more attractive.

'So Hermione,' he said with a degree of restraint. 'Dance?'

'Dance…?' she asked and then realised how stupid she must have sounded. A red hue brushed her cheeks with its embarrassing blush.

'Yes, I take it you can work out what that is?' he crossed his arms across his chest and regarded her. 'I was always under the impression you had a brain then again…'

'Stop,' she held up her hand to his mouth. 'Don't say another word.'

He smiled underneath her hand, and she removed it quickly at the contact of lips on flesh. Tucking her hands behind her back, she looked up at him. 'I don't think dancing is a good idea. It would give the pupils the wrong idea. They may think we're an item and I know neither of us want that.'

'Hmm. If you say so.' He paused. 'I think you're just scared that you'll stand on my feet like the clumsy oath you are.'

'I am not!'

'Prove it.'

'Okay.'

'Okay.'

They glared at each other for a couple of minutes before Draco grabbed her hand and dragged her out onto the dance floor.

…but when touched by something different and unstable, they begin to fizz. The reaction takes place, merging them together so they are no longer two, but one being. Sometimes the outside world rebels them though, separating them with fire and water. Together they burn with passion in the cool of the water, trying desperately to cling together in the contradicting world. Will it last?