CHAPTER UPDATED June 2022

Happy reading :)

Settings, stories, characters are all cannonish, set in an AU, from a different POV!

Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes


Chapter Seven: It Started With A Dance

"This is insane," Hermione flapped at Viktor who was sat calmly beside her on the luscious green grass of the bank of the Black Lake. The great dark water stretched out in front of them, as far as the eye could see, before blending with the sugar - dusted, looming, remote mountains beyond.

"I just can't."

"Vy not? It vill be masked. No von vil no." He gently placed a hand over hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze, though she found little comfort in it. The anxiety growing inside of her as his insistence intensified was becoming unbearable.

"But…Muggleborns aren't even supposed to know about this. This is the first time I've ever heard about it…What if someone finds out?" The horrifying concept weighed heavily on her, but he seemed not to notice, and he rolled his eyes in an obviously impatient notion,

"Hermy-own-ninny! Yoo cannot possibly leaf me wiz the girls of this school. I haff only escaped the year last because of yoo." Viktor looked to her pleadingly.

She shut her eyes tightly and placed a hand over her face. The internal battle she was facing was consuming her. It had not been long since she had met Viktor by the Transfiguration Courtyard and he had quickly ushered her away to a secluded space where they could be alone, and he could reveal his grand plan to her.

A secret, pre – Christmas ball was apparently held each year as a bonding exercise between the houses for the older students. It had originally been a masked event for all, though, from what Hermione could gather, the male population had opted out of this particular fashion statement over the years, with only the girls hiding their identities. Attendees had to be in their fourth year and above, although, due to the Triwizard Tournament last year, there hadn't been an additional celebration to the Yule Ball.

'This is ludicrous,' She thought exasperatedly, 'It would be like inviting those two idiots to Muggle Mayhem…'

"I haff already asked thee house elves to hire a dress vor yoo," Vikor continued, oblivious to Hermione's fretting. Yes, it all sounded exciting to her, experiencing how the other half lived so to speak, she could see what people were really like for herself. But on the other hand, she risked discovery, the thought of which sent a chill down her spine. Her heart was beating furiously in her chest as she weighed her options.

'It IS masked after all…How would anyone really find out…'

Master Weasleys face flashed into her mind, and she flushed slightly at the thought of his piercing blue eyes staring at her in horror from across the room.

'HE would know.' Her jaw clenched unexpectedly as did her fists, 'No. No he couldn't possibly,'

The sudden rush of thrill within Hermione overtook her, and the possibility of defying her place as a slave sent ripples of passionate excitement over her skin. Releasing her own hands, she looked directly into Viktors face, noting the enthusiastic anticipation that spread across his features as he seemingly studied her intently,

"Alright then, let's do this."

~x~x~x~

Ron was stood side by side with Harry, the two of them admiring themselves in a full - length mirror that Dobby had brough to them by request but an hour before. The two of them were clad in matching oversized formal black robes with white, buttoned - down shirts tucked tidily underneath. Seeing himself dressed so smartly filled Ron with a strange sense of pride and couldn't be any further from the humiliation he had felt the year before at the Yule Ball.

"You know what Harry; this must be the best thing I've ever been given. I can't bloody believe Fred and George." He beamed, his surprise and joy evident in his voice. It had only been a few months prior when he had received the gift, carried by a struggling Pigwidgeon who repeatedly bit his fingers until he had removed the package from his tiny claws. He had hoped that the miniature scops owl would at least grow a little to ease his discomfort in carrying Ron's mail, though it seemed destined not to be as he had remained relatively small though unequally irritable.

Initially he had been suspicious of the package, knowing how his brother had teased him relentlessly the majority of his life, though he was soon overwhelmed by their unexpected act of generosity. He could only assume they had been equally embarrassed by the state of his dressrobes the previous year and sought to salvage some of the family pride by gifting him new ones.

Harry chuckled at him and clapped a hand to Ron's back, and he noted him giving Hermione a small look over his shoulder. He turned to look at her as well, she was crouched on the floor, her sleeves rolled high, busily folding his clothes into nice, neat piles. She was always so meticulous and organised with her work,

'I do like that about her…'

He smiled a little, noting how her hair contradicted this completely, rammed up on the top of her head and anything but neat and tidy, it was frizzy and sticking out on all ends. She stopped suddenly and lifted her head in their direction, apparently having become aware that she was being watched. Ron locked eyes with her and she hurriedly returned to her folding, and he spun around back towards the mirror immediately, feeling suddenly flushed as Harry grinned back at them both,

"Well, you should be glad of it; especially after those awful things you wore last year. Ancient..."

They had been full of frills and lace, a more traditional form of robes, lovingly bought second-hand by his mother who had suggested that if he wished to instead go naked, Harry could deliver a photograph of the momentous occasion.

Even though a reluctant Ron had eventually agreed to wear them, he had attempted a badly performed severing charm which, although got rid of the lace, left the edges looking frayed and worn, causing just as much humiliation, and did not deter those around from laughing at him. Even now, he could not push the disgusted face of Padma Patil from his mind, who had arrived in bright turquoise robes, looking beautiful with her various pieces of traditional Indian gold jewellery, and having allowed her long black hair to fall free and lavishly decorated with small golden clips. Her normally beautiful face had contorted, barely able to even speak to him,

"She hated me dressed like that didn't she?" He laughed, Harry giving a small smile in return.

There was a little movement from behind them and they once again turned to find Hermione making her way towards the heater in the centre of the room.

'I had better distract her for a bit,' Ron thought, scanning the room quickly. His eyes came to rest on a rather messy bundle of items he had ungraciously pushed under his bed in haste,

"Granger!" He barked, perhaps a little more harshly than he had originally intended. She flinched and straightened, piercing him with her steely eyes. His mouth became instantly dry, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, "Clean my Quidditch Kit!"

She was staring at him for an unnatural length of time without responding and his stomach knotted uncomfortably, and he looked anywhere but back at her. Slowly she began to make her way towards his bed, refusing to blink or remove her eyes from his face. She was unnerving him, and as though it was an automatic response he shouted louder,

"NOW!"

This seemed to snap her out of whatever was plaguing her because she jumped back slightly and nodded hurriedly,

"Yes Sir," She muttered and gathered his items, filling her arms to the point he was no longer able to see her face and scurrying to the heater and out of sight.

~x~x~x~

Hermione was shaking with anticipation and excitement, a nervousness engulfing her entire body like never before. Not even the thrill of her surprise entrance at the Yule Ball the previous year could compare to this.

She stood in the warm and busy kitchens, surrounded by house elves, wishing her luck, and complimenting her on her transformation. Hermione stood fiddling with her dress, legs shaking and ready to buckle, suddenly contemplating whether she could really go through with what she was about to do.

Her bare shoulders prickled with goose bumps, "Bloody freezing," She muttered to herself, feeling rather stupid to be stood in a full – length silver mermaid hem ball gown whilst the other fussed around her. Justin was pulling her hair back into place over her ears and fastening in several silver clips to keep it in place and her earrings hidden and Kevin busily unpacked a pair of shoes from a box resting on a nearby table.

Crookshanks slunk from underneath it and lazily padded his way towards her, creeping under her dress and twisting himself around her ankles. She lifted the front of the dress, just enough to reveal the feline as he looked up at her and purred playfully. "You silly old cat." She knelt slightly and pulled him out and up into her chest, seeing Kevin now moving towards her out of the corner of her eye.

Placing the shoes in front of her she slipped into them, wobbling a little as she went and allowing Crookshanks to jump onto Kevin's shoulders and perch there to watch her. She gave herself a little shake and held out her arms at them,

"Well?" She said nervously, looking from on to the next, "What do you think?" They both smiled back at her widely,

"Amazing!" Justin commented,

"Yeah, totally." Kevin agreed and she grinned back at them devilishly. Yet her face then fell a little, apprehension filling her as she remembered the end of her last ball. She had stormed halfway up the staircase to the boy's dormitory in Gryffindor tower before rounding on Master Weasley as he had shouted poison in her direction,

"If you've got such a problem with Viktor then next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!" She had shrieked at him wildly, in front of the entire common room, those words ringing through her mind as clear now as when her infuriated and confused brain had originally presented her with them,

"It's almost eight Hermione, you should be going." Justin interrupted her train of thought, smiling down at her again and giving her a little hug about her waist.

"Yeah...I'm not sure that I can do this you know, I mean, what if I'm found out?" She looked up to him pleadingly, almost begging him to talk her out of it,

"You've already agreed with Krum though, and besides, no one will know. I promise you." He smiled and then beckoned to Dobby, who had just recently dragged an unkempt Crookshanks from a barrel of fish and placed the heavy lid over top of it, earning various hisses and whines from the animal, who continued to paw at it, desperate to worm his way back inside.

The elf ran forwards, holding a rather intricately designed and fairly large white eye mask, which she took and placed to her eyes, adjusting it delicately as Kevin tied it tightly behind her head.

"Can barely tell it's you Mistress!" Dobby gasped delightedly, clasping his hands together in excitement and she blushed, breathing a little heavier than she intended to. A silence fell over them for all but a few seconds before she cleared her throat loudly,

"I had better go then." She made her way past them steadily, giving them a last fleeting smile, and then walking down the corridor out of the kitchen and out of sight.

~x~x~x~

Viktor was stood waiting for her at the top of the flight of stairs leading up from the kitchens to the landing of the Entrance Hall. Clad in his full Durmstrang uniform, he had his hands clasped tightly together behind his back and was nodding as other passed by, seemingly disapproving at the various gaggles of giggling girls passing him by. They were fluttering their eyelashes and giving small flirtatious waves of their hands, waiting for a smile from him that Hermione noted never came. It was not unlike it had been the previous year, and as Hermione stood looking up at him, she thought how tiresome it must be to be hounded incessantly by others always wanting your undivided attention.

She remembered the first time she had walked down the steps from the seventh floor and into his open and waiting arms, wearing a beautifully flowing pastel blue dress, his smile warming her throughout, his touch gentle and caring as he led her down to the Great Hall. It had been a most magical night, until her Master had involved himself anyway.

'He's not going to ruin this for me this year,' She thought determinedly, and taking a deep breath she started up the staircase to meet Viktor.

"Hi!" She breathed, a warm tinge spreading across her cheeks as he took her hands within his lightly and kissed the back of them together,

"Hermy-own-ninny. You look vondeful." He tucked a long, loose strand of hair back up into the rest and smiled sweetly at her, pulling a hand through his small, trimmed beard and then through his short hair, "But remembers, you must not speak. To anyvon."

She nodded thoroughly, his sense of urgency overwhelming. She understood the potential impact of any minor missteps, and desired greatly to avoid any issues arising. He held out an arm for her, which she took gratefully, slipping a covered arm around his and held the other hand gracefully over it. "Gloves?"

"Oh," She looked up to him, rather embarrassed, "I guess I'll have very rough hands...In comparison to…You know…"

He nodded at her, a thoughtful look upon his face and she blushed a little as they began to slowly make their way up the staircase. The landing was deserted once they reached it, as was the Entrance Hall as they crossed it, the looming wooden double doors of the Great Hall seeming bigger than they had before. A shiver shot down her spine and she felt herself physically shake, fear suddenly gripping her and her confidence melting away.

Viktor placed his free hand upon her already linked one and held it tightly,

"Do not vorry, I am here vor you." She nodded slowly and then breathed deep, both staring forwards, slightly stonily. He removed his hand and held it up, pushing hard against the wood and allowing the doors to swing open gradually, permitting them to walk, arm in arm into the packed, bustling hall.

The room fell largely silent except for a few background murmurings and the current soft music, that of which Hermione presumed was a wizarding equivalent of Tchaikovsky, playing through the hall as all eyes turned to the couple who had just entered. She drew a great shuddering breath, only releasing it as Viktor pulled her forwards and towards the centre of the dance floor. There was a vast, open space that the four full length tables had once occupied, which was instead now surrounded by many smaller round tables, each of which had a large ice sculpture in their centre, and a vast accompaniment of chairs rather than benches.

The ceiling above them was a midnight blue, wisps of cloud whirling through it and creating a marble effect, a scattering of stars aiding the floating candles in enlightening the entire hall in a soft basking transient glow. A large Christmas tree stood in the back corner to the side of the Professors' table, decorated with large amounts of tinsel, candles and baubles, randomly floating about the fern, topped with a large bright glowing star.

Hermione stared up at it in awe but was suddenly spun around roughly and unexpectedly to face Viktor, his chest becoming suddenly very close to her. Gulping a little, she took one of his hands in hers and placed the other upon his shoulder, resting her elbow high upon his arm, remembering how she had felt the first time that they had danced, his touch safe and comfortable. She looked into his smiling eyes and nodded confidently, a wave of calm passing her over,

"Valtz?" He asked, moving his right foot forwards even without a response, allowing her to move backward to accommodate for him, beginning a dance that she had taught him but days before their Yule Ball. He had learned it perfectly and committed to refining his actions much to her satisfaction and delight. Hermione soon relaxed into him, allowing the music to take over her, and let him lead her about the currently deserted floor, oblivious to those watching her.

"Hermy-own-ninny." Viktor whispered, drawing her from her dream – like state and panicking her slightly, her illusionary world beginning to crack. "Say nothing. A boy iz coming vor you. The son of the deputy minister, I am thinking." Hermione stiffened, barely able to keep herself moving along with him without looking like a robot,

'Master Draco Malfoy? Oh, Merlin's piss, he's recognised I'm a Slave! I knew it was him that day Viktor arrived, he's recognised me...' Suddenly, from the thick crowd a tall and pale boy stood forward, his blond hair plastered back into his pastel head, stood towering, and completely dressed in black.

She waited and waited for the shout of discovery to come, quivering and barely able to lift her head for fear of crying in front of everyone. And yet, it never came. Instead, a soft, albeit cold hand was placed upon her bare shoulder, causing her to positively freeze and then swivel rather unattractively on the spot, eyes wide as a hunted fox. Master Malfoy smiled at her, a strange a scary smile that chilled her blood, and pricked at her skin.

She gave Viktor one last look, almost begging him to pull her away immediately, but when he did not, she accepted the lifted, open hand in front of her, allowing herself to be steadily pulled into the arms of a boy so many feared. Yet, he showed her nothing but gentlemanly respect as he led her gracefully around the floor, despite giving her the impression of being overall rather arrogant and standoffish in himself.

Hermione was very grateful when another tap upon her shoulder came, and as other couples filled the dance floor, she was whisked away by various students of all houses, seemingly desperate and eager to dance with the mystery maiden whose identity no one could decode. It gave her a certain thrilling rush, so much so that she was managing to enjoy herself, though becoming very warm and in need of a rest.

Eventually able to escape, Hermione collapsed upon a chair near the very back of the hall by the still wide – open doors, allowing a draft of cool air to come over her and freshen her aching body and soothe her slightly swollen feet. She sighed heavily, closing her eyes, before becoming aware that someone was now sitting beside her. She opened her eyes slowly and almost swallowed herself, seeing who was nervously fidgeting beside her. Master Weasley was sat, looking at her uncomfortably and running a hand through his ginger hair, seeming as though he could find no words to say.

~x~x~x~

Despite his earlier excitement, Ron certainly had little interest in his current situation. He had been sat with Harry and Ginny for the majority of the evening, topping up their goblets as often as possible from the large bowl of non-alcoholic punch on a nearby table and further topping this up with Firewhisky that Ginny kept tucked tightly under the sash around her waist.

They watched lazily as students milled in and out of the hall, the boys strutting proudly and grinning suggestively, the girls laughing and fussing with delight as they showed off their dresses and fluttered around them.

One in particular, a girl with dirty – blond hair who was giggling excitedly, repeatedly kept tugging at Ron's sleeve and demanding his attention. Lavender Brown seemed to have taken a liking to him after their meeting over the summer as he accompanied his mother to a local market where they had met along with her family. Their parents had appeared to get along well, and it had made him feel uneasy, especially now that she had frequently batted her eyelashes at him insistently and sighed heavily whenever he was around.

And now she was demanding that they dance together. Though he inwardly smiled with glee at the thought of a girl paying him attention, other than his sister or mother of course, his dislike for her repeated perseverance overwhelmed this. Perhaps if she had not been so forward, he would have been more inclined to entertain her, but the fact she seemed also not to understand the fundamental meaning of the word 'no' angered him indefinitely.

"Lavender, please! Just stop! I don't wanna dance," He tried once more, attempting to reason with her eccentric personality, yet she seemed to not hear him, and she plopped herself onto the empty chair beside him and gave another irritating giggle.

He supposed that if she were not behaving is such a manner, she could have been rather pleasant company. Although never formally introduced before, he had seen her on various occasions in the common room and in Divination classes and she had appeared fairly level – headed, intelligent and kind for the most part.

However, she was Pureblood like him. And this brought another side to her personality, much like it did to him. The pressure and responsibility of upholding the family name had been crushing to Ron, especially with so many older brothers carrying it with pride before him. It had made him bitter and resentful, and he had seen that in her too as an unnatural cruelty towards the slaves of the castle, not actually recalling ever seeing her with one and assuming that, whoever they were, they had not lasted long within the castle walls before departing.

A creek from the doors near to where they sat saw them swing inwards and open, and the small group turned towards the couple who had just entered. Ron's jaw tensed involuntarily as he saw Krum walking in, an unexpected mystery woman upon his arm. He was hit with a sudden rush of mixed feelings, anger and jealous at the sight of the beautiful looking girl he was with, but also an odd sense of relief that it wasn't Hermione again.

He gave himself a small internal scold at his own stupidity and shook his head slightly,

'She wouldn't dare,' He thought smugly, pulling at Harry's sleeve and leaning forwards,

"Hey Harry, any clue who that is?"

"No idea. Never seen her before," He responded, squinting in her direction as Ginny scowled next to him. Ron was amused by her behaviour as she usually managed to hide her emotions well. Firewhisky seemed to draw out her insecurities and in particular her jealousy. Deciding not to dwell on it, he looked back towards the couple, feeling a pang in his chest. Krum did look good, he had to admit. He completely understood why all the girls swooned over him, and every guy wanted to know him or to be like him.

'There's no wonder Hermione is in love with him…' His face soured immediately, and he stared into his lap, feeling bile rise involuntarily in his throat. He had no idea why it angered him so much, perhaps it was his possessive nature, maybe hormones, he didn't know. He only knew that their relationship infuriated him.

"She's very pretty," Commented Lavender, staring longingly in their direction, and he followed her gaze. Ron could only agree, she was one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen,

"Good job. Granger might give up on Vikky now and get back to scrubbing my floor." Ron said spitefully, a slightly twisted smile upon his face as he spoke, giving them all a gleeful grin.

They were dancing now amidst a large sea of people, changing partners, and gliding swiftly around the floor. She never faltered, never tripped, and maintained her composure completely, and seemingly enjoying every movement and every step she took.

He heard Harry chuckling and felt him punch his arm lightly. He looked around at his friend, "What?"

"Go ask her to dance you idiot."

"What?" Voiced an erratic Lavender, echoing his thoughts exactly. He looked at Harry, stunned by his suggestion and yet a little excited. His cheeks flushed red at the thought of speaking to her and he gulped a little, "No! If he won't dance with me, he's not dancing with anyone! That's unfair! I will not allow it!" Lavender proclaimed loudly, throwing her arms above her head.

"Lavender! Will you piss off?" Ron shot at her, trying again to push her away, "I can't dance anyway mate, it's not something I do." He turned to Harry, looking down and solemn, disheartened by his lack of ability.

"No need mate. She's not dancing anymore." He nodded over towards the girl, who was now sat alone at a table by the double doors, lazily fanning her flushed face, watching couples waltz about the floor, graciously declining any further requests to dance as many more boys and even some girls made their way towards her, asking for her hand.

"No! Ron! Please!" Lavender took his hand, trying to drag her with him, instead feeling herself being torn away as Harry clamped onto her arm, dragging her away,

"Come on Lav Lav! We've not danced together yet." He threw her in front of him, pushing her towards the floor, despite her protests and seeming need to get back to Ron. The siblings watched them amusedly, chuckling slightly, before Ginny shot her brother a disapproving look,

"Well don't just sit there stupid!" He squinted his eyes at her, unsure of what she was referring to, "Go to her! Harry doesn't give out opportunities like this often idiot!" Ron flushed a little, but nodded, struggling to stand up. He began to walk towards her slowly, flopping down upon a chair beside her. He saw her flinch a little and then stare round at him, large eyes look intently at him from under her intricate mask.

"Alright?" He asked, to which she gave him an amusingly blank look, leaving him unsure of whether he should continue to speak to her, whether she would scream at him in disgust, or even worse, scream at him as though she were a fan girl, another Lavender. "Err...Do I know you like?" Again, she stared at him, clearly unable to speak even if she had wanted to, "Erm, is that a no then?" She stood suddenly, as though electrocuted, and then began walking away from him, seemingly intent on finding another's company, and escaping his presence, perhaps back to one of her previous dance partners.

~x~x~x~

'Fuck.'

The tension was becoming unbearable for Hermione, and she had the overwhelming urge to run away immediately. Though she couldn't feel it, she could see her left hand quivering slightly out of the corner of her eye and she gulped loudly. He was waiting for a response from her, but she knew there was a large possibility she would give herself away if she were to answer him. Standing quickly, she took two steps forward before feeling his long fingers close over her wrist tightly,

"W…Wait!" He called after her and she stopped immediately, perhaps out of habit for following his orders, perhaps at the surprising warmth his hand held against her skin. She could feel the heat in her chest rising as he held on to her and the shaking in her hand became more prominent. He seemed to sense her discomfort and involuntary trembling as they both looked at his fingers and he released her, turning slightly pink.

"I'm sorry," He mumbled, clearly finding it difficult to look her in the eye as he sat back into his seat fully and she stared back down at him. She flushed as he spoke.

'This is dumb. It's just an apology…' She thought as her breath caught in her throat. He looked fragile and anxious of his own actions, as though he was unsure how she would react, 'He's so gentle…'

"I…" He was fumbling over his own words, and she could tell it was a struggle for him to look at her. As their eyes locked, she tried to convey her reassurance, "I just, you know, only if you wanted to, like…I thought…You don't have to if you're tired, we could…Dance?"

In that moment, a wave of warmth overtook her, and she felt like agreeing to anything that he asked of her. Hermione could not understand herself. She had spent so long under his ruling, so long holding on to a bitter resentment and hostility that her feelings seemed suddenly foreign. It was as if she was living in someone else's body or perhaps a dream. Without thinking, she smiled sweetly and took both of his hands in hers, encouraging him to his feet and then pulling him behind her and towards a secluded corner of the hall where there were fewer people. If he were to discover her, then at least they would be away from as many prying eyes as possible.

She turned back around to face him and was surprised when he pulled her in close immediately, looping an arm around the small of her back and holding her close into his body before releasing his grip on her a little,

"Sorry…" He mumbled again, but surprisingly she found she didn't mind and instead slipped a hand over his chest and took his free one in her other. He was warm to the touch, and she could feel her skin burning to match his, exhilaration swelling inside of her as they stood still and staring at one another,

'What am I doing? I'm so stupid. I'm going to die…If he doesn't kill me, I'm going to have a heart attack anyway.' Rushed thoughts filled her mind but rationality seemed to have melted away as she allowed him to begin to lead her through the motions of the next dance. He was clumsy and ungraceful, almost blundering and barely able to keep up, but she held onto him tightly. He had a soft and peaceful look on his face, and his eyes were sparkling in the soft candlelight as he touched her delicately and spun her in place. 'This is unbelievable…'

She giggled softly as he stumbled over his own feet, struggling to keep upright. He had been flushed with awkwardness the entire time, as one dance turned into two and then into three, but Hermione didn't care in the slightest. She felt exhilarated. The thrill of being with him so closely was feeding her movements and she wasn't even sure why. Hermione couldn't tell if it was him, their situation, or just old-fashioned hormones encouraging and suffocating her. Her desire to be even closer to him was becoming unbearable and her legs quivered, heat spreading throughout her entire body. She bit her lip harshly as she resisted the temptation to touch the freckles on the exposed skin of his neck and pull her hands through his hair.

Hermione knew she was going down a path she would be unable to bring herself back from and instead released him, though he held onto her for a few more seconds, staring directly at her lips. For a fleeting moment it looked to Hermione as though he may kiss her, and the thought intoxicated her, but he seemed to think better of himself and stood back, giving her plenty of space and looking thoroughly embarrassed.

She placed her hands together and lowered her head towards him, amazed when she looked up to find him bowing back to her. The air around them both was so thick and humid; she could have choked upon it. She felt as though they were the only two people in the room at that moment, and it both excited and terrified her. He stood straight, towering over her, looking directly into her eyes through heavy lids, not once blinking as he extended a hand towards her. He lightly brushed her chin with his long fingers, and she drew in a great shuddering breath,

'His hands are so big…' She thought, reddening as he took a fallen strand of her hair and tucked it back into place by her ear. An unexpected, soothing warmth spread out over her, and she pulled away from him suddenly, drawing in a sharp breath. He looked unexpectedly alarmed and removed his hand, thrusting it forcefully into his pocket. Hermione got the impression that he had assumed he had crossed the line with her, and she was rejecting him now that he was refusing to look at her.

"Ron," She breathed lightly, reaching back out for him, and speaking in a voice that sounded so unlike her, ephemeral and mystical. He looked up sharply and directly into her eyes, his surprise that she knew his name evident across his face and she gulped harshly at her mistake, a quiver travelling down her spine. Instinctively reaching forward she slipped her hand to his neck, touching him exactly where she had wanted to earlier and drawing him in closer to her, seeing his skin prickle under her touch. His face was so close to hers now and his breath tickled her nose as his chest rose and fell steadily under her touch.

And then the enchantment around them was broken, shattered as Viktor appeared behind her and took her other hand lightly and pulling her backwards a little,

"Mistress?" He asked softly, and Hermione shifted her gaze to his hand upon her noting how different his touch now felt. Before, her stomach had fluttered a little as he held onto her, but now it was still and unmoving. She felt slight embarrassment, but nothing like the emotions that had just evaporated out of her. Releasing Master Weasley, she stepped away from him,

'What the hell is happening to me?' She was even more confused than she had been only moments ago. Perhaps it hadn't been her hormones, or their situation. Or maybe it was – It was a combination of the two. Her head was beginning to throb as she struggled internally.

"May I haff this dance?" She was aware that the three of them had been stood around awkwardly for longer than was comfortable. She gave one last look to Master Weasley who seemed to deflate in defeat before taking Viktor's hand and allowing him to lead her away, trying to ignore the twisted look pulling into his features as they left. The look on his face was making her feel sick. He had appeared so disappointed, but Hermione felt she had little choice. She couldn't stay around him any longer, it had been risky enough already given her identity, and she had been heading towards a horizon that she would be unable to cross back from. Viktor had unwittingly saved her from herself, and she was grateful for that.

Viktor had always respected her, regardless of whether she was Muggleborn or otherwise. Master Weasley had despised her for years. But the way he had looked at her was burned into her memory. Her mind felt full, and she barely noticed as Viktor pulled her in closer and they began to dance once more. She moved almost robotically, not noticing anything or anyone as Master Weasley's face repeatedly swam into her thoughts.

Yet Viktor stopped them both suddenly, bringing her back to her senses a little. Without warning he dipped her backwards and pulled her up into him, capturing her lips with his own in a perfect, sweeping, fairy-tale kiss. There were catcalls all around them and Hermione closed her eyes, Master Weasley's face drifting to the front of her mind, pulling her out of her trance like state. Viktor released her and she pulled away from him,

'No…No…Shit…Fuck…What's happening?'

And then she found his eyes. Hurt – filled, bewildered, and piercing blue pools staring back at her. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she turned scarlet. Viktor seemed baffled with her reaction as did a few of those around them, and even Hermione was confused. Breathing heavily, she didn't know what to do and made a split – second decision to run.

Gathering her dress into one hand and bolting for the door, she pushed hurriedly between Mistress Weasley and Master Potter, the latter of whom took the brunt of her run and fell to the floor in a heap. Hermione would have felt guilty if not for the overwhelming need to escape the look on Master Weasley's face, as well as the burning in her stomach at the notion that she had wished it had been him kissing her and not Viktor.

Sprinting as fast as she could, despite her dress and heels, she collapsed noisily down the stone staircase towards the kitchens. Waking several of the sleeping portraits as she went, they grumbled and hurled insults at her as she reached a large painting of a bowl of fruit. Lightly touching the foremost pear, it squirmed and giggled before transforming into a green doorknob, which she wrenched open with unnecessary force. Making her way shakily down a short hallway, she pulled at the mask on her face and threw off her shoes, tugging hastily at her hair and releasing it.

"Hermione?" Came Kevin's voice, sounding thoroughly baffled. He was sat upon a small stool by the fireplace, sewing contently. As he looked at her tear-stained face his confusion seemingly turned to worry, and he abandoned his work and rushed over to her. She held onto him tightly as he guided her to a nearby table and sat her upon it and she drew in a great shuddering breath, followed by a large sob, "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

She felt unable to voice the maelstrom of emotions within her. How could she? Her friend had kissed her. She had wanted to kiss her Master. The entire situation had been surreal and smothering. Instead, all she could do was silently sob into her hands as he held an arm around her shoulder and brushed her hair from her face,

"Hermione." His voice broke through to her, sounding impulsive and urgent, almost alarmed. She steadied her breathing as she could to look at him through the tear – filled eyes, gulping in as much air as she could.

"Yes?" She gurgled up at him,

"One of your earrings is missing."


Japan's Arc Angel x