He watched her from the gates, memorizing her every single movement, every single smile, frown, and crease in her brow. He closed his eyes and heard her laughter chime out in time with his thoughts as the sunlight dappled his strong, pale features. He sighed heavily and the wind caressed the landscape gently as the air escaped his lips. Opening his eyes again, he watched her wistfully for a moment longer before leaving his post in a succession of quick strides.
The wind blew around the mess of curls on her head and her gaze turned in its direction. There, she saw him begin walking, his pace quick and determined. The sunlight bounced off his blonde hair, doubling its brightness as it reached her eyes. Her gaze followed him all the way to the doors of the castle and lingered, almost hoping that he would make his way outside again, this time to join her. And more.
"'Mione? Hello! Earth to Hermione Granger!"
The hand waving wildly in her face brought her out of her reverie. She was disappointed that he wasn't back, that he had decided to just leave her there, alone amidst her friends.
"What's up, 'Mione?" Harry asked, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at her and then to where she was looking. "Are you expecting someone to join us?"
"Yes," she said softly to herself. "Um, I mean, no, Harry. I just thought I saw something familiar."
"Like what? That trail of hatred following Malfoy?" Ron laughed, almost upsetting his plate of potato salad. "Be used to it by now, Hermione. Nothing's ever gonna change."
A small part of her didn't believe that, couldn't believe it. Not for a moment. She busied herself with the chips on the plate in her lap. Of course they would say things like that, she thought. They didn't know him like she did.
"Who knows, Ron?" Ginny pointed out cryptically. "Now that everything's over, said, and done, Malfoy might just show his true colours."
"Yeah, well, those colours might just turn out to be black," Ron muttered. "You're just defending him because you think he's handsome."
"Just shut up, the two of you," Hermione remarked, pulling out her prim-and-proper act again. "Let's not let him ruin our picnic."
"She's right," Harry agreed, shaking his head. "By the end of next month, he'll be somebody else's problem, not ours."
One more month, Hermione thought, finishing the food left on her plate and leaning her back against the base of the tree. She let a grin escape from inside of her as she closed her eyes and thought about Draco. How his hands had fit so perfectly on her waist, how perfectly she had fit in his embrace…
"Care to let us in on the joke, 'Mione?"
Once again snapped out of her memories, Hermione sighed.
"No, it's nothing," she replied lamely. She searched her head for an appropriate excuse. "It's just that.. I guess I'm going to miss being here, just us, hanging out."
All four were quiet for a moment as they took in Hermione's less-than-eloquent words.
"Yeah, you're right," Ron said softly. "I'm going to miss this place…"
"Hey!" Ginny cried, shattering their image of silence. "Don't go all 'trip-down-memory-lane' on me! I've still got one more year!"
They all laughed at Ginny's quirky outburst and spent the rest of the afternoon lazing by the shore of the lake, undisturbed. The time dripped by in no apparent rush and by the time they were ready to pack everything in, the sun wasn't even half way to setting.
"I really am going to miss all this," Ron said, carrying the picnic basket and looking around wistfully at the manicured lawns and the often and well tread path. "No matter how much I complained, I can just… Oh, rubbish, I don't really know how to put it."
"I know what you mean," Hermione replied softly, her voice full of the pensiveness they all felt. "Even though we're still here right now, it's almost like it's all slipping away between our fingertips."
"A bit like trying to grab a stable handful of sand," Harry added.
"Or trying to cup water in your hands," Ginny finished.
The silence that shrouded them reverberated with their mutual assent. Hermione thought of her words and those of her friends and gradually realized that she wasn't thinking about leaving Hogwarts when she began talking: she was talking about leaving Draco Malfoy.
As soon as Harry opened the main doors, the bustle of activity shattered their reverence. Walking through the Entrance Hall, there was a buzz of excitement that caught the attention of Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"What d'you reckon is happening, then?" Ron asked, setting down the picnic basket and surveying the hall. Myriads of senior students were running about, most in an ecstatic panic.
"I don't know," Harry remarked before pulling over a skeetering Padma Patil. The two were on good terms and had 'hooked-up' occasionally over the last few years since fourth year, even though it had been her sister he had taken to the Yule Ball. "Padma, what's up?"
"Oh, you haven't heard?" she admonished. "It's been all the talk since lunch!"
"We obviously haven't heard, you chittering twit," Ginny remarked. "Or else we wouldn't be asking, would we?"
"Oh, sod off, Ginny Weasley. But Dumbledore announced a surprise at lunch today!"
She began to run off again, presumably in the direction of her house, but Harry caught her arm again and pulled her back.
"What's this big announcement, then?" Hermione asked, eager for anything to happen to lighten her thoughts and memories.
"There's a surprise dance happening for sixth and seventh years! They're holding it in the courtyard after the rest of the school has supper! Now let go! I have to get ready!"
This time, Padma managed to escape as Harry turned to his friends, a cross between stunned and bemused passing along his face.
"Well, some announcement, then," he said. "Never thought Dumbledore would've pulled this out of his sleeve."
"Well, I guess that's what we get for thinking we know everything about him," Hermione replied spiritedly and laughing. This was certainly a good chance for her to not think about him. The friends began walking to the tower.
"We must've missed the announcement because of our picnic," Ron said, leaving the picnic basket at the head of the stairs leading down to the kitchens as they passed.
"Thanks for that one, Captain Obvious," Ginny teased, running up ahead. "C'mon! I want to look absolutely stunning tonight and that's not going to happen unless I have a full length mirror!"
Hermione ran after her as the boys lagged behind. The excitement was contagious: Hermione was already mentally going through all her dresses and dress robes, trying to figure which would make her look more appealing.
After giving the Fat Lady the password and climbing through he portrait hole, the girls were stopped by Lavender and Parvati, hair and make-up half-finished and dressed in nothing but their bathrobes.
"Hermione, Ginny! We've been looking all over for the two of you all afternoon!"
"Long story," Hermione said shortly as she allowed herself to be dragged up the stairs to their dorm. "What are the two of you planning to wear?"
"Well.." The two of them launched into an in-depth explanation of what they were to wear, periodically interrupting themselves to ask if they could borrow this or that.
They finally reached the first of the seventh-year girls dorms and opened the door. Clothes were strewn everywhere, on every possible surface and even floating in midair, as if being worn by some invisible mannequin.
"Oh, Hermione, I really think you should wear that dress you supposed to wear at the Halloween dance," Ginny gushed, unaware of the effect of her words on Hermione.
Thinking about the dress, that beautiful black ball gown, hung up in tissue paper in her closet. It brought the memories of Draco full force, the dam finally breaking and the outpour of memories from that night crashing down on her like the weight of ocean upon ocean on her shoulders…
It had all been at the first dance of the year, the Halloween Ball. It had been decided that the theme was to be 'A Night At The Victorian Masquerade' and all those who wanted to participate were to honor the theme. After sending a letter to her mother via Muggle post (there was a small wizarding shop on the outskirts of Hogsmeade that honored requests such as hers), a young wizard had hand delivered a large parcel to her one morning, two weeks before the dance. She didn't open it until she was on her own, locked in the Room of Requirement, despite the begging and threats of her friends and peers.
So, in the soft candle lighting of the magical room, she opened the box and dug through mounds of parcel tissue to reveal an exquisite dress, authentic from the Victorian ages. Her mother's sister worked at a museum and had ended up collecting a thing or two and giving away a priceless item here and there; remembering this, she had mailed her mother asking for permission to borrow the dress. It was a black satin ball gown with a full hoop skirt and a tight bustier bodice, all the accents done in silver lace. Matching jewelry in the form of a velvet choker and onyx set earrings, rings and bracelet followed in a smaller box amid the tissue paper. She later went shopping at Hogsmeade for an appropriate mask to wear.
Keeping her dress a secret from the world, she arrived at the dance, the door opening and a hush falling upon the crowd as she stood in entrance way. The mask magically affixed on her face covered her eyes and ended just above her nose. She thought it would be silly if no one recognized her, but the thought fleeted as soon as she looked around herself. It was hard to tell who was who and she was excited by all of it.
Many a boy had asked her to dance and she did, each time acting sly and flirtatious as they tried to guess who she was. By the end of each dance she had figured out who her courtier had been and left them, waiting for the one who would truly figure out who she was.
It came late into the night, near the end of the event. A boy dressed in well cut black dress robes and matching mask approached her as she stood by the refreshments table alone. He said nothing but offered his hand as the live band played a slow ballad. She took his offer and was soon swept to the dance floor. Hermione stared at him then realized with a slight shock who she was dancing with; the loose platinum locks had given it away. Instead of extracting herself from his gentle hold, she played coy.
"Well, well, Mister Malfoy," she whispered softly, looking up at him with a sparkle in her eye. The deep pools of molten silver were drawing her in with every step they made. "You are quite the dancer."
"You as well, my dear," he replied, his tone and volume equal. A superior grin played on his lips.
They made small talk as they danced, but he never ventured as far as to guess her identity. She was beginning to get frustrated with the boys of Hogwarts, but she enjoyed the simple game of cat and mouse she was now playing. Little did she know that he was leading her closer and closer to the doors. Then song ended. Hermione unwillingly pried herself from his hold, his warm touch, and curtseyed. Expecting him to bow in return, she was caught off guard when he pulled her outside to the courtyard. The low pixie lights of the courtyard coupled with the moonlight made it just bright enough for her to see him directly in front of her.
"Draco, what are you doing? It's absolutely bloody freezing out here!" she exclaimed, instantly forgetting her poise and etiquette.
"Now, now, Hermione," Draco replied, chuckling. "That isn't any way for a lady to speak, is it?"
She looked up at him dumbfounded. He knew! At seeing her expression, he chuckled more and then summoned his cloak, pulling it over her shoulders and pulling her closer.
"How did you know?" she asked, her senses returning as she neared his body. He placed a hand on her cheek and tilted her face upwards, towards the light.
"Because I'll always be able to spot you in a crowd, Hermione," he said softly, craning his neck lower and lower as he spoke. "Mask or no mask."
The gap between them was closed. Draco savored the taste of her lips and it was just as his dreams had led him to believe. Removing his hand from her face, both hands found their way to her waist and gently clutched at her, never wanting to let go. When his tongue brushed lightly against hers, she almost went wild, moving her hands from his chest to his neck, pulling at him possessively.
Then it was all ruined: Colin Creevey's flashbulb went off, ruining the moment. Bewildered, both Hermione and Draco pulled apart, Draco, readying himself to flee.
"Wow! This is perfect! The mysterious couple in black sharing a moment of passion under the moonlight!"
"Sod off, you little crap-wit," Draco growled. He turned to Hermione, bowed, and kissed her chastely one last time. "You've just made my forever come true. Always remember that."
And she had. Whenever she and Draco encountered each other, it wrenched at her heartstrings that she couldn't pulling him to her one more time. And, every time she made eye contact with him, she knew he felt the same. The day after that fiasco, pictures of the two of them were throughout the school, thanks to the Creevey brothers. The rumors floated, but neither party ever actually admitted to be one of the subjects. Hermione had told everyone that she hadn't ended up making it to the dance, but had taken ill in her room at the last minute…
"Oh, no, I can't wear that dress, Gin!" she whined, pulling herself back to the present time and place. She was tempted to run to her trunk and pull his cloak around her again. "I'll look like some morbid hack trying to impress all the ghosts instead of all the guys!"
"That's right, it was that Victorian theme that night," Lavender pointed out absently as she rooted through the armoire. Pulling out a pair of sexy lingerie, she asked, "Do you think this would look good?"
Hermione laughed as she also began going through her dressy outfits. "Lav, if you're going to wear just that, you might be expelled."
"No, silly! I want to wear something racy…" Lavender paused and blushed as the three girls stopped and looked at her. "For Seamus."
A round of squeals went up into the air and then it was back to choosing outfits and deciding on hair and make-up.
An hour later, the girls tromped down the stairs. When the guys in the common room caught sight of them, whistles and catcalls were thrown into the air. Colin and Dennis were standing at the bottom of the staircase, photographing every girl passing by.
"Wow, Hermione," Ron breathed as she joined them. "You look… Um…"
"I think the word he's looking for is stunning, 'Mione," Harry laughed. "Ron, pull up your jaw."
"Thank you," she replied primly, doing a pirouette for them. She had opted for Muggle clothing, as did almost everyone else. She was wearing white terry cloth slacks that hugged her form and a stylishly wrinkled black tube top that was longer in the back than in the front. The tube top was low cut, showing her ample cleavage, and it showed off her curvy form. The strappy, black open-toed stilettos added two and a half inches to her petite form and showed of two sets of perfectly pedicured silver toenails. She had magicked her hair into large, soft curls that she then pony-tailed high at the back of her head. "Shall we go?"
"Off we go, then" Harry agreed, offering her the crook of his arm.
"Er, right," Ron mumbled, peeling his gaze away from Hermione and offering her his arm on her other side. Both Harry and Ron were dressed in jeans and button down shirts, Harry's a light blue and Ron's a dark gray silk.
"I assume you lent him clothes?" Hermione quietly asked Harry as she took their proffered arms. The three walked out of the common room together, Ron enlarging the portrait hole so they did not have to suffer any climbing.
"Yeah. Everything he had was… well, let's just not go there." Harry grinned cheekily.
"Well, Ron, you cleaned up nicely tonight," Hermione observed. She saw him blush.
"Er, thanks, 'Mione," he managed to stammer. "You, too."
She giggled slightly and walked down the main staircase each of her escorts half a step behind.
"You must really regret missing the last dance, huh, 'Mione," Harry teased.
Throwing her head back in a titter, she replied, "Sort of."
In truth, she couldn't wait to be center of attention once again. She played out her fantasy in her head: the doors would open for her, Harry, and Ron and everyone would stop. She'd catch Draco's eye and he'd come towards her…
"Ready?" Harry asked his two companions. Hermione swallowed and grinned. Ron uncouthly grunted his assent.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Hermione replied.
The three of them stepped in front of the doors that lead to the courtyard and the doors swung open of the own accord. People stopped and looked. After realizing the arrivals, people waved and began to crowd around, lavishing comments on them all.
Hermione took all the compliments but none of them really mattered. Letting her gaze sweep the room, she saw him. He was standing with a bunch of others from his house, drinking punch by the refreshments table. His companions snickered and sneered but he only stared at her. She held his gaze until she was swept away by the crowd.
"Hermione, you look amazing!"
"Thanks," she replied gracefully. She allowed herself to be taken by the crowd.
Fifteen minutes passed and everyone who was attending was there, gracing the perimeter of what seemed to deemed as the dance floor: someone had magicked a large hardwood floor in the center of the grass. A sudden hush fell over the students as the doors opened again. It was a procession of teachers lead by the headmaster.
Standing in the middle of the dance floor, Albus Dumbledore lifted his hands and awaited total quiet. Then he began to speak.
"I would like to officially welcome you to the End of Term Senior Dance. I'd like to start off by addressing the seventh years: You are still young but you will begin your foray into the real world in a very short time. Tonight, forget about all of that. Tonight is your night to stay young just a little longer. And to the sixth years – Look at your older peers and strive. Strive not to be just like them, but strive for the common goals. Age is just a number; maturity is what really counts.
"With all that said," he continued, "I'd like to bid you all goodnight. You are all on your own. Everyone on staff has put their faith and trust in each and every single one of you. Thus we give you tonight as a reward. You have all deserved it."
The senior student body applauded for their headmaster. Dumbledore bowed gracefully and stepped back, joining the line of teaching staff. Professor McGonagall stepped forward and the crowd hushed once again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, may tonight be the night where you begin everything anew. Begin taking down old walls, begin new friendships. Break down all the old barriers of yesterday and build the new bridges of tomorrow."
She then stepped down to another applause. She looked tall and proud as she followed Dumbledore back inside the castle. The remaining staff followed suit and the doors were shut. The quiet from the crowd was not broken for a moment as they revered the responsibility and freedom place in front of them. Then someone whooped.
"Whoo! Where's Hermione Granger?"
Hermione looked puzzled for a moment. A quiver came up from the crowd and whisperings began.
"Over here," she called, raising her hand and rising to her tiptoes despite her stilettos.
"Use that wand of yours and get the music pumping!" the shouter replied.
Everyone laughed and Hermione bent down, retrieving her wand from where she had strapped it against her ankle when she was tying her stilettos up her calves. Walking determinedly to the middle of the dance floor, which had become the unofficial podium, she stood and waved her wand through the air in a large infinity symbol over her head.
"Carmen aer!" she shouted. Instantly strains of music began to build until they were pumping and the leave on the trees in the courtyard were reverberating along with the bass. She quickly put her wand back in its place before the chaos started.
Another string of whoops joined the hectic dance music and people surrounded Hermione on the floor. She began dancing her way out as the bodies piled closer and closer together. It took a few songs for her to free herself from the dancing throng.
"Whew!" she said to herself as she finally made it to the closest refreshment table. Grabbing a paper cup, she ladled into it the closest drink, a clear deep red liquid. Bringing it to her lips, she smiled. Fruit punch. She listened to the tune that was playing in the air.
"Tryin' to find the magic/Tryin' to write a classic/Don'tcha know, don'tcha know, don'tcha know/Waste bin full of paper/Clever rhymes – see ya later!"
Hermione began singing along with the song when someone approached her. It was Ron, looking undoubtedly pleased with himself. She laughed when she surveyed him: his hair was already slightly tousled, and the buttons on his shirt were all undone, revealing his white undershirt.
"Having fun, then?" she teased. He just nodded and grabbed her cup.
"You ladies are animals, you know that? Dancing fiends," he breathed after gulping down the punch in a quick succession.
"And here was I thinking you wouldn't mind," Hermione replied, leaning her hands on the table behind her. Swaying her hips to the beat, she hoped a certain someone was watching. Instead, Ron's gaze just followed her hips as they swung back and forth.
"No, not much. I just wish I knew about it sooner." He looked up at her again and quickly refilled the cup. "What song is this? It's sort of cool."
"Natasha Bedingfield's 'These Words'," she replied simply then began singing along with it again.
"I like the lyrics," he replied slowly, watching her again.
Hermione sensed that he was going to say something. Trying to avoid it, she pulled him with her. "Let's dance."
He just laughed in response and allowed himself to be dragged back to the mass of bodies.
The music of every genre played, but there were no slow ballads. The one common factor all the music shared was this: volume. And Hermione just danced: with her friends, with Ron, with Harry, hell, even with herself! She slowly just gave up on her hope of Draco watching her and decided to give it her all and let go for just a little bit.
Little did she know that, from the same refreshment table she had been at, he indeed was watching her. Every time she moved, he just wished that he was holding her again, to feel her body against his. He hadn't forgotten that night. Far from it. He had secretly gotten one of those photos from the annoying git that had interrupted them and kept it under his pillow. Every time he thought about her, he would go to his room and hold the picture, remembering that one divine moment.
Within minutes the song had changed. It was a hip-hop ballad that started out with a mix of plucking and strumming of a guitar. He watched her as she slowed her body down to a sensuous single dance. Weasley came up behind her and put his hands on her waist, dancing slowly with her.
"Sayin' I love you/Is not the words I want to hear from you/It's not that I want you/Not to say, but if you only knew/How easy it would be to show me how you feel/More than words is all you have to do to make it real/Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me, yeah/'Cuz I'd already know…"
As she tilted her head back to talk to him, Draco slowly crushed his paper cup and gritted his teeth. If his hands move and inch… he thought violently, imagining Weasel's head was the paper cup.
"This is a bit lame," a Syltherin sixth-year in the vicinity complained. Then he grinned. "How about we spike up the party a little?"
"By all means, go for it," Draco seethed, not caring at all. The rest of the Slytherins agreed and the boy approached the closest punch bowl. The shimmering red liquid reflected the night sky. The boy pointed his wand at the liquid and said some inaudible words. A clear liquid then poured from the tip of his wand and splashed into the punch bowl, mixing in with the fruit punch.
The boy grinned mischievously. "Who wants vodka coolers?"
A unanimous cheer came up from the large group of Slytherins and a queue formed at the bowl.
"Oh, Draco!" It was Pansy, holding two cups of the spiked punch. "Here, darling."
"Thanks," he said, downing the whole glass without a flinch. He hated it when Pansy fawned all over him: it was annoying. "Why don't you give Daniel a reward and dance with him?"
Pouting slightly, Pansy walked over to the boy who had spiked the punch. Draco watched Pansy lead Daniel to the dance floor just as the song changed. Thanking his lucky stars that Pansy was occupied, he searched the dance floor for Hermione.
Looking for a minute, he found her, sandwiched between another girl and Potter. The three were grinding, and from what Draco could see, Hermione was playfully flirting with the girl directly in front of her. He grinned and quirked an eyebrow. Suddenly she turned her head and met his gaze. Seeming slightly surprised that he was staring at her, Hermione mouthed the words of the song at him. He listened to the song andwatched. Her movements had become more sensuous as she mouthed the female parts of the song. It was as if she was talking directly at him.
"No, no, no, no, baby, no, no, no, no don't lie/ Cuz you know, know, know, know yeah you know, know, know, know you've gotta try/Whatcha gonna do when it all comes out/When I really see you and what you're all about/ No, no, no, no, baby, no, no, no, no don't lie/Because you know, you know, you know, you know, you know you've gotta try…"
He laughed at the irony of the song as he view her almost erotic movements. The last verse came and then the last exchange. She mouthed her lines and he mouthed his, almost as if he were holding her and talking to her.
"Still I'm lying to my girl, I do it," he started.
"And I lie and I lie and I lie and I lie till there's no turning back," she sang.
"I don't know why I lie and I lie," he replied.
"Until I don't know who I am. But then I tell myself…"
As the ending chorus passed from her lips, he licked his. He barely noticed that Potter had bent down and told her something in her ear. Tiling her head back and laughing he watched Potter snake one hand higher and higher upon her torso.
Turning around as the song changed, Hermione pulled Harry closer and began to grind. She had saved herself from letting Draco watch Harry Potter grope her in public, thus still giving Draco a chance to come and have her.
"Oh, I like this song," she gushed into his ear as the bass thundered through the party. Before singing along, she remarked, "I hope it's the remix."
"Merlin, 'Mione," Harry growled into her ear. "You're going to be making every single guy here take a cold shower later, you know that?"
Pulling back slightly and giving him a wide grin she sang in reply. "Baby it's you!"
He threw his head back in laughter while Draco crushed his second paper cup of the night.
Five hours later, Hermione lay breathless on the grass. She had danced through almost every single song, stopping once or twice for some food and drink. It was dark all around them but the party itself was lit and alive with bright, colourful pixies. They swarmed everywhere in bunches and looked like moving Christmas lights.
"Watch, when I get up, I'm going to have grass stuck all over my back," she complained to Ron, Harry, and Ginny.
"Yeah, probably," Ginny replied half-heartedly and still out of breath. "I mean you danced to practically every song."
"With practically every single person," Ron added.
"Girl or guy," Harry finished with a twinkle in his eye. "Not like anyone really minds."
"Oh, shut up, Harry," she laughed, grabbing a baby blue pixie out of the air and blowing it in his face. She sat up and tried to wipe off her back.
"Here, let me help," Ron said, leaning over and lightly brushing the skin of her back, ridding her of sweat-stuck grass.
"Thanks. I'm going to get a drink or something. If I don't come back right away, don't send a search team."
"Don't worry, we won't," Harry teased. "We'll just look on the dance floor for someone pole dancing."
The others laughed. Standing up and blowing him a raspberry, she surveyed the party. It was twelve thirty and the crowd had thinned out by about half. And Draco wasn't on the dance floor. She hadn't forgotten about Draco all night, no matter how hard she tried. Every time he started to slip from her memory, she'd see him watching her from a tree or a refreshment table or dancing with another girl. Every time she viewed that latter, she'd storm off the dance floor until the girl was sent away at the end of the dance. But her spirits fell as she looked everywhere: he must've left.
Pansy Parkinson passed by with a gaggle of other chittering airheads and she was going on about how Draco had just swept her off her feet during the last song. Hermione smirked. He had probably just stood there while Pansy writhed all over him. Or so she hoped. But she now knew that he was still there.
It's our game of cat and mouse again, she realized with a slight chuckle as she poured a glass of spiked punch for herself. Word had gotten around that several punch bowls had been hit with vodka. As Head Girl, she thought of doing something but decided not to. Dumbledore had said to stay young, so she was.
Sean Paul began to play though the party and suddenly there was a pair of hands snaking their way around her waist. Without turning around, she knew who it was: those hands, the distinct scent of his cologne. The myriad of times she had dreamt of him always seemed to focus on his scent or his hands. And his hands lead her into 'We Be Burning', they also pulled her away from the vibrant glow of the pixies. She placed her drink on the table ledge just as they passed it and hid in the shadow of a grouping of trees.
"The Head Girl shouldn't be drinking, you know," his voice teased in her ear, his warm breath caressing skin.
"Well, the Head Boy shouldn't be kidnapping fellow students and hiding them in a grove of trees," she replied in the same tone, tilting her head back and up so her gaze was met with a few locks of blonde hair and an expanse of neck.
"You came with me," he defied with a small laugh. "It's consent."
The rest of the song was danced in silence, as if the two of them were afraid to be heard. Then the beat slowed from driving reggae to a bright, relaxed reggae beat. Hermione turned around and faced Draco, snaking her right arm around his neck and letting her left traverse his chest, occasionally popping open a button until his chest was bare.
Leaning his forehead on hers, Draco smirked. Two can play at that game, he thought. He let one of his hands move from her backside to her waist. Gently, he let his fingers stroke at the skin underneath her revealing top. Upping the ante, she began to sing, knowing his face was less than inches from hers.
"If it's lovin' that you want, then you should make me your girl/Your girl/If it's somethin' that you need, baby come and share my world/Share my world/If it's lovin' that you want, come and take a walk with me/Walk with me/Cuz everything that you need, I've got it right here baby…"
The effect her breath and her voice drove him wild and he pulled her closer. She didn't think it was possible, but there she was, singing seductive lyrics less than a centimeter from his face. He then coaxed her leg higher and higher on his until he managed to wrap her leg around his waist.
"Draco…"
"No, don't ruin this," he said, cutting her off. "Not yet."
Slowly, so slowly that they both didn't even realize that it was happening, the gap between them was closed. Hermione licked his lips gently and basked in the taste. Draco groaned, longing to remember the sweetness of her lips. He moved in closer, deepening the kiss and relishing the feel of her hips grinding into his. Stopping for air, Hermione began to sing the lyrics right against his lips.
"Bloody fucking brilliant," he whispered before kissing her again, full force. He nipped lightly at her bottom lip until her mouth opened. Pressing his fingertips against the small of her back in a circular massage, Draco managed to illicit a moan from her, which he swallowed in an instant. He loved it and craved more; he wanted every single part of her like he had never imagined.
Hermione, in turn, had the time of her life hearing his growls of pleasure. She kept dancing, feeling his hardness right against her. Pulling her leg down from his waist, she pushed him further and further from the leafy canopy until he stopped, leaning against a large oak tree and never breaking their kiss. Pulling away, Draco looked down at her, grinning in the faintest of light and breathless.
"Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you?"
"I can imagine," she whispered in reply as she quirked an eyebrow and ground her hips into his pelvis.
He groaned at the pleasure of it. Dipping his head low, he lightly bit his way up her neck and along her jaw line. He barely noticed, but it had happened: the song had changed. He recognized the subtle, picked rhythm: 'You're Beautiful'.
Pulling away, he looked down at her gleaming hazel eyes.
"Listen."
Looking flushed, she stopped her movements and listened.
"My life is brilliant…"
Draco had heard this song on the wireless about a month ago and he was awed: the song had explained his every feeling for Hermione. Since that day, the song constantly looped in his head and was the theme song to all his dreams.
"This is it," he whispered, his fiery gaze become soft, almost clouded as he looked down at her. "This… This song…"
Hermione listened to the song and it tore her apart inside. It explained her feeling of longing oh so well. She felt Draco's arms encircle her waist and she responded by laying one arm across his shoulder and the other around his neck.
He pushed the two of them off the tree and they slowly danced, the mood between them totally changed. He knew she understood; how could she not? She was in the same leaky rowboat as he was.
"You're beautiful, you're beautiful/You're beautiful, it's true/I saw your face in a crowded place/And I don't know what to do/'Cuz I'll never be with you…"
Hermione felt like crying. She wasn't sure if it was purely emotion or purely alcohol; she was sure it was the deadly mix of both. Tightening her hold just a little bit, she wished she and Draco could stay here forever, she wished that she never had to let go. As their steps grew less and less, she knew Draco felt the same. They stood there holding each other until the end of the song.
As the last song approached its end, Draco looked down at her. And searched his mind for the right words to say to her. Let's face it, he thought. There are no right words. Then he just decided to go with his gut. He spoke the last two lines as they played. He stroked her cheek with regret.
"But it's time to face the truth: I'll never be with you."
"No, Draco…" she whispered. She felt like crying and it showed: tears brimmed at the edges of her eyes.
"Hey," he soothed softly. "We'll always have this. This'll be our song…"
She nodded and sniffled. "Alright. Our song."
"That's right. No matter what."
She leaned up one more time and he knew that this was it. As he bent down to kiss her, he knew in his heart that this was goodbye. Not forever, he vowed to himself.
He pulled back and brushed a stray lock of hair our of her face. Nodding again, Hermione looked deep into his eyes for the last time. She stepped back once, twice, three times, unwilling to turn away. Just as she did, he caught his last whisper to her.
"You're beautiful."
One Month Later…"…And, as I finish this speech, I also finish my time here at Hogwarts. The instruction we have received here may aide us in our professional lives, but it is the memories that have truly taught us life lessons. In closing, I'd like to share a quote with you from my favourite song: 'We shared a moment that will last 'til the end'. May your encounters here at Hogwarts last until forever. I can assure mine will. Thank you."
As Hermione spoke the last lines of her valedictory speech, she looked all around at her smiling peers, many of them shedding a tear. When the quote came out of her mouth she laid her eyes on Draco. He mouthed the words with her and her grin penetrated the solemn mood.
Stepping down from the podium, she took her seat amongst the rest of the graduating class as they applauded and cheered. Dumbledore walked to the stand and waited for quiet.
"If the graduating class can please rise and face the audience."
Hermione, sitting right beside Draco in the first seat of all the graduates, stood and turned around. She spied her parents sitting close to the front. When she had first figured out that the seating plan was by marks, she had freaked: she'd be sitting right beside Draco, yet it would be like not even being near him at all.
As Dumbledore presented the graduating class, Draco felt a weight lift off of his shoulders. The graduates threw their hats up in the air and he grabbed Hermione's hand. Looking up at him surprised, she smiled. As much as he wanted to keep holding her hand, he let go, slipping his fingers out of her grasp and leaving a scroll of parchment in her palm.
He nodded coolly at her as he turned to leave and she did the same. Draco went straight to his mother where she stood, proudly aloof. Hermione pocketed the parchment without a thought and ran to Harry, Ron, the Weasleys , and her parents.
"Harry! Ron!" she cried, jumping at them both. They caught her and the celebrations reigned all the way to the carriages that were to take them to the station.
"I'll see you at home, alright?" she told her parents as they gave her one final kiss goodbye. The parents and families were to go home separately while the whole school returned home normally, via the train.
"Of course, honey," her mother replied, beaming and hugging her again.
"We're proud of you, baby," her father said one last time, pulling her close. "But we can't pick you up. We still have to finish packing for vacation. But I'm sure you remember where the house is."
She looked up at her father, confused. But before she could speak, he pulled a single key out of his pocket and dangled it in front of her face.
"It's the one with the gigantic bow on it, alright?"
She squealed and hugged her parents one last time before Harry and Ron dragged her into their carriage.
The ride back to London was filled with train carriage parties and tearful goodbyes. There were several times she had taken out the small scroll of parchment and tried to open it but to know avail. And she hadn't run into Draco at any time on the train.
"What's that, 'Mione?" Ron asked when she was trying to open it the first time in their compartment.
"A note."
"From who?"
"Not quite sure," she lied. "Someone passed it to me during all the commotion and I didn't get a chance to see who it was."
"Just make sure it's not a letter bomb or something," Harry joked half-heartedly. During the whole ceremony he had been somber. She knew that it was because he was wishing that Sirius had been there. None of his family had attended the ceremony.
"Hey, Harry," she said softly as he gazed out the window. He looked at her and she saw his eyes were clouded. "We're your family, too, aren't we?"
"Yeah, mate," Ron added, catching on. "We're all the family you need now."
He looked at them and smiled. "Yeah. You are."
Afterwards, as she sat alone in her car, Hermione sat and pulled out the piece of parchment. She tried to figure out a spell that would work but nothing came immediately to mind. She tried prying it apart again.
"Oh!" she squeaked quietly as it opened. Music began to play as a multitude of multicoloured pixies exploded out of the parchment. Looking down for any written message in the parchment, she realized what song was playing. She read along the lyrics of "You're Beautiful" as the tune filled her car. A single tear made its way down her cheek. The song ended and began again and she turned over the parchment.
"Hermione,
"I love you.
"Draco."
Before Disapparating, he watched her and smiled.
"I love you," he whispered to her. She looked up at that moment and saw him. He smiled.
"I love you, too."
With that, he was gone.
Song Credits: (in order of appearance)
"These Words" - Natasha Bedingfield
"More Than Words" - Frankie J
"Don't Lie" - Black Eyed Peas
"Baby It's You" - Jojo feat. BowWow
"We Be Burning" - Sean Paul
"If It's Lovin'" - Rhianna
"You're Beautiful" - James Blunt