Title: No Looking Back (IV of IV)
Author: Miz Thang
Characters/Pairing: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, HG/DM, RW/PP
Rating: FRM
Word Count: 5019
Warnings: Completely and utterly cliched. AU Year 7. Not HPB-compatible.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the little story's idea. Everything else belongs to who it belongs to.
Summary: In Seventh Year, Head Boy and Head Girl, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, are forced to attend a ball together in their last few days at school. What results isn't anything they'd ever expect.
Notes: For the Fantastic Clichés And Why You Should Write Them Ficathon. Requirements posted at the end. Amazingly, I signed up intending to be completely and utterly serious, and what I've got is serious with a side of funny. Especially from Harry, Ron and Pansy. And not only that, but because of a massive dose of writers' block, it became a three-part fic. Written for gleamingeyes.

IV. The Final Word

Draco woke up in a room decorated in red and gold. Which was new, because he was more than a bit sure that his room was green and silver. Because he was Slytherin and red and gold were Gryffindo…

Oh.

He rolled away from the spot where he'd been curled up with Hermione to stare at her gold ceiling. He reflected that, when his parents found out about his extra-curricular activities of the past few weeks, he'd be in for more than a stern talking-to. Draco knew his mother, and more importantly, knowing how his parents worked and would react was what bothered him the most.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and decided he'd very much like to be anyone else at the moment – of course only when it came to that moment where Blaise would take one look at him, and then ask, "Who'd you shag?"

At which point, Pansy would pipe in and blab on about Hermione and the looks she saw him give the Head Girl the night before – and Draco could do without all of that, thank you very much. Especially, when, knowing Blaise, and Tracey and Millicent, they would be the exceptionally nosy sort, wanting every single detail, which Draco strongly felt was none of their bloody business.

To his left, Hermione groaned softly, and rolled over, only bringing her to curl in on his side, and also brought their faces within inches of each other. She froze as their skin touched and opened one eye, smiling when she saw him. And then she seemed to think and opened both of her eyes in shock. "Oh."

She paused for a moment, before tentatively allowing a smile to cross her face. "Morning."

Draco almost smiled back, but, deciding that it would be awfully cliché, didn't. "Good morning, Hermione."

"So, er – " Hermione started, only to be cut off by the loudest person Draco knew.

"Draco! You do realize that you can't sit with her all – oh, bloody hell, I've been blinded!"

Draco figured he'd never moved faster than when he hid under Hermione's blankets after Pansy walked in on them (she was now hiding her eyes while obviously peeking through them). Amazingly, when he'd fallen asleep with Hermione last night, he really hadn't imagined this in the morning – mainly the part where his seventh year prefect best friend with a knowledge of the password and a lack of knowing what privacy meant entered Hermione's room without the decency of knocking.

"Merlin's beard! Did you two – ?"

"Pansy, get out!" Draco yelled, his face burning red in embarrassment, because if there was anything he'd ever held over Pansy in the past years of their lives it was that she had never seen him naked, and it was being shot to hell at the moment.

"I can't ask a simple – ?"

"Parkinson!" Hermione barked, and Draco bet she was embarrassed as he was.

"Fine, fine. I guess – I'll just see you at lunch, Draco."

Hermione's door shut and Pansy's quick footsteps could be heard as she fled from their quarters, screaming that she was scarred for life and that she would never enter another room without knocking ever again – if only to avoid the embarrassment of seeing Hermione naked.

When they both heard the portrait slam to a close, they pulled the sheets from over their heads. The first thing Hermione said was, "And you gave her the password, why?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I didn't give it to her, Granger. Her mum told her how it worked and she put two and two together." After a moment he said, "Like I'd give Pansy a password to anywhere that would keep her out."

Hermione gave a short laugh but didn't answer and the two of them remained where they were for a pregnant pause before she said, "Well, I don't mean to be nagging, Malfoy, but what does this mean for us?" Hermione asked. "I've no doubt Parkinson is already telling everyone within a three-mile radius."

Draco turned on his side to face Hermione. "Until we know for sure, I'd rather just go with that happens next."

"And what happens nex – ?"

Draco kissed her, his hand finding its place on her bare hip, as if that was where it belonged. He pulled her closer, their bodies practically flush against each other.

Hermione figured they weren't only going to be late for breakfast, but also miss it altogether.

-

Pansy glared at the six girls that sat on the couch in Slytherin before her. "Ladies, you've broken a few rules," she started, her deadly pleasant smile on her face. "The number one rule of Slytherin – never disgrace your house. And a recently established rule – no atacks on other students. You are the most pathetic Slytherins I have ever seen. When we break the rules, we're not supposed to get caught."

The obvious ring leader, a redhead from a prominent Death Eater family that originally descended from Greece, stared Pansy straight in the eyes. Pansy then decided that she'd be happy to flip the little bitch's world upside down – just because she could.

"At the Headmaster's orders, and with the agreement of our dear Head of House – none of you will be returning to Hogwarts in September. I predict futures similar to our dear groundskeeper Hagrid, the oaf – charming, really, to not be able to use magic for the rest of your lives. It really is a pity, though – you all just took your O.W.L.s and everything. I bet you passed, too."

"You – we can't be expelled!" One girl yelled – the blonde. Pansy had a feeling, from when they'd sat in their seats not three minutes ago, that she'd be the stupid one (not because she was the blonde, of course – but it didn't help her case either).

"Yes, you can. And you are. Effective as immediately as when you get off the train tomorrow evening." Pansy said, her smile blossoming into a wider grin as the anticipated telling Draco – and even Granger – about this moment.

"My father won't have this." The redhead yelled, indignant.

"Your father can take it up with the Ministry, because our say is final. I'd think you'd have been in Azkaban already if you'd have killed our dear Head Girl." Pansy said. "I mean, of all the mudbloods in this school, you go for Granger. Why not Dean Thomas, or there's always Anthony Goldstein – but, no. Not only do you go after Draco's unadmitted girlfriend, but Harry Potter's best friend. I almost pity you when he and Ro – Weasley – find out. Are you really that imbecilic that the sorting hat pitied you – or did we suddenly switch house characteristics with the Hufflepuffs?"

Pansy paused and a half smirk slid across her face, "Or…were we thinking with those new and very hard to control hormones. I understand that you think Draco is very lovely-looking, but even if he won't admit that Granger's his girlfriend, you wouldn't have a hippogriff's chance in hell."

The redhead turned a violent shade of red (that, without Pansy needing to say it, clashed as horribly with her hair as Ginny Weasley's freckles – and, no, now was not the time to mention that she found Ron's cute), the other girls following suit and Pansy considred her work of making them uncomfortable almost over. There was only one thing left –

"Oh, and please, don't bother to leave yet. I'm sure our dear Head Boy has a few choice words for you lot."

-

Draco took a deep (not very satisfying – well, not as much as he thought it would be) breath when he entered the Slytherin common room. It wouldn't be at all exaggerating to say he could smell the girls' fear before he'd even reached the portrait, would it? He might as well had, of course, because the looks they gave him when he sauntered in more than conveyed how they felt.

Pansy grinned widely, and, for someone who didn't like Hermione, it was weird to see her so cheerful. Though, of course, it might just be the fact that she had six girls squirming in their seats, and Pansy always did like to spread the misery.

"Interesting morning?"

Of course, she'd also gotten her first and only view of him naked this morning – and that was not a scene he ever wanted to repeat again. Ever.

He rolled his eyes at her. "Shouldn't you be looking for Weasley to bare your heart to?"

She gave him a funny face and then eyed the fifth years. She straightened her robes, and said, "Yes, well, I'd love to see you in action, but Blaise and I have a bet to deliberate on – and I better find you at lunch."

Draco rolled his eyes at the brunette as she passed him to leave the common room. He turned to the girls, a patent sneer on his face, his lip curled upward in distaste as he took a seat in the armchair Pansy had vacated not too long ago.

The redhead, who he had long ago concluded to be the alpha, said darkly, "She's still a mudblood."

"And did I break your little pureblood heart, Higgins?" Draco asked coldly. "I actually thought all the Slytherin girls had more sense than the rest of the school – I suppose there always are exceptions to the rule."

The dark-skinned girl that sat to Higgins' right says, "Do you really think Voldemort, our your family, will accept this, Malfoy?"

Draco sat forward, narrowing his eyes and registering her slight flinch and that she sat back. "Right, Clark – I'm sure you were oh-so-concerned for my safety. Flattered, really."

The fifth years, except Higgins, flinched at his words, as drenched in sarcasm as they were.

"There are only three rules of Slytherin, you know. One – we don't disgrace our house. Two – we stick together. And three – we always come out on top. Amazing it is how you all managed to bugger two out of three of the rules, isn't it?"

"I – it was Higgin's idea! I don't want to be expelled!" The blonde yelled, panic in her voice. "My mother will kill me!"

"You're pathetic." Draco spat out, his face once again contorting in a way that wasn't really all that hot when is was directed at you. "Stop acting as if you were under Imperio – it makes you look even dumber than I've no doubt you already are. You can't even lie your way out of a bad situation."

"It won't matter, Malfoy – the Dark Lord will win and finish the job we didn't." the redheard, Higgins, threatened.

Draco almost reached for his wand – a bit surprising, when you consider that Draco had barely given a rat's arse what happened to Granger two weeks ago. Surprising indeed.

Instead, however, Draco smiled callously, even as his insides burned in anger and he felt the urge to hex the entire lot of them. "You better hope so, Higgins. And make sure he kills me also. Because, if he doesn't, and I see you again, I just might kill you."

-

After threatening (and likely scaring) those poor fifth years for decades to come (which hadn't been too much fun when all he really wanted to do was Crucio all six of them and then use Imeperio to have them all jump from the Astronomy Tower one by one – and there had actually been a death threat or two), Draco had gone to lunch to meet Pansy and Blaise. He'd have gone to his common room, but he and Hermione hadn't actually had that conversation that made them "official" or not, and he'd rather avoid it for as long as possible.

Draco supposed that the flinches every time he or Pansy laughed were a bit worth it all; which really said something about his mood.

"Can you believe," Tracey was asking as Draco reached the table and took his seat between Pansy and Blaise, "tomorrow we leave this place for good? No coming back. This is it for Hogwarts."

"Anyone else thinking late night rendevouz?" Blaise asked, as only he could.

Tracey elbowed him and Pansy rolled her eyes, saying with a playful smirk that should never be confused with her deadly smile, "Were you planning to send the girls off with a goodbye present?"

Nearby, Millicent (who had no decency or knowledge of the concept of the phrase "mind your own business") spit out her pumpkin juice mid-chortle and Blaise threw a piece of bread at Pansy in some kind of retaliation.

However nothing topped Daphne's, "Why intrude on a future profession I'm sure they'll all be much acquainted with in the future?"

For all of three seconds, Draco managed to delude himself with the thought that everything after they left Hogwarts would be fine. Of course, they wouldn't be. His parents disappeared on him halfway though the year, his girl – Herm – Granger – wasn't someone they'd approve of, and he was sure that half the people that sat around him laughing were going to pick their sides in the war (and maybe even die).

However, never say Draco wasn't an expert on denial. In fact, Draco would be more than a little sure that he could even beat Potter (after all, who else could say they avoided the words that would make a relationship serious, the conversation that would right at least that one thing in the world? Draco thought so).

"My mother's decided," Pansy said, "That I need a break from England, a graduation present if you will. She wants me to take a trip to France or Germany or something. I think she's just trying to keep me away, scared I'll throw myself to the lions."

"Is that a bad thing?" Daphne asked. "If my mother had the sense – even if it was the North Pole – I'd go. This sitting and waiting and worrying thing just isn't me."

"Hmmm. My mother wants to go to Australia. I'm sure a future husband is involved." Blaise added to the misery that had somehow arrived with Pansy's announcement.

"And the reast of us?" Millicent asked. "Get a nice tattoo, or find the farthest corner and hide in it until something finishes this all."

Draco decided that he'd rather pretend this conversation wasn't happening.

"Something?" Nott echoed.

"Yes, well. Either Potter or You Know Who dies, right?" Tracey asked. "Then let Potter win. E – even if that means my father's death or imprisonment. Never once in all of the Davis family's existence has a woman been forced into war – especially not an unwed one – and my father owls me today and tells me that in one week, I'll receive the dark mark and serve 'our Lord.' I already have a lord, thank you – myself. And I am not going home tomorrow."

Draco didn't say anything. Not that he had to. It seemed as if the seventh year Slytheins had decided they liked life and freedom more than this cause they'd stood for all their lives, and, he supposed, in a way, he was no different. Even if his reasons were purely selfish – all of theirs were too.

That was the moment, when he realized he couldn't pretend to not hear the conversation any longer. He also realized that he was going to do something to fix it for them. Even if he didn't really care all that much.

"Goyle," Draco started and the heavy set Slytherin turned to him. The others watched him carefully, and he knew that they were waiting for him to do something, fix their situations. Fine. "I think Tracey might appreciate company wherever she decides to go tomorrow."

Tracey stared at Draco in shock, while Goyle only nodded his agreement and returned to quietly eating (and no, there was no mess or any other atrocity in Goyle's eating – he wasn't a garbage disposal).

"Draco – "

"Crabbe, I believe Daphne would also like for you to tag along." Draco said, cutting Tracey off before she could so something stupid, like thank him.

Daphne didn't say anything and only sat rigidly in her seat as she realized what Draco was planning. What he was doing.

Blaise realized it also around the same time. "I think I'll make a stop at the owlery. Inform my mother that Pansy and I already have plans."

Before Pansy could react, he stood and left the table. It seemed as if it took her a few moments to think before she ran after him. It ruined their reputations a bit when she practically tackled him into a hug just before he was outside the doors.

"Nott – "

"Wherever Millicent wants to go." He cut Draco off with a slight nod and Draco returned it in satisfaction.

"What about you, Draco?" Millicent asked curiously.

"I've got no reason to hide, Bulstrode. Why bother?"

There was nothing left to be said after that. Rule number one of Slytherin – stick together.

-

Draco had been avoiding her. Which would have been all well and good if not for the fact that they'd had sex – last night, and this morning.

Yes, she'd caught wind that the seventh year Slytherins had some kind of serious discussion – and everyone had seen Pansy hug Blaise and kiss him on the lips chastely, and the fact that Tracey had excused herself soon after the Potions N.E.W.T. to return to her common room was a bit alarming…

But – as Draco was avoiding her, she had no idea what was going on.

Harry and Ron had, of course, found out about the six girls and their decision to attack her the night before. She thought Ron had grinned a bit proudly when she relayed that Pansy had stunned five of the girls and identified the last.

They really were worst than herself and Draco had ever been – hot one moment, extremely cold the next and likely overall confused about it all.

Even so, it was still a bit amazing that she could live with someone and not see them for a full twenty-four hours. At which point, she had to conclude that any relationship between herself and Draco would a be a mistake. After all, she had to concentrate on the upcoming war and helping Harry. She could worry and woe-is-me over her love life later.

She wasted no time in packing her trunk, deciding that she didn't need to stay in her room any longer than neccessary (because she was seeing Draco's hands and lips, and seeing her own hands and lips and why wasn't he talking to her?) – and she supposed that the red and gold magically fading to blue and bronze was a clue as to just how done she really was at Hogwarts.

She smiled, if only a bit melancholy, and lugged her trunk out to the common room. She smiled at the quiet lady and said, "Thank you for everything."

The quiet lady smiled, a bit of a twinkle in her eye. "Oh, dear, you two provided me with more entertainment than I've had since Lily Evans and James Potter."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and the portrait swung open. She grabbed the handle of her trunk, dragging it through the door. The portrait closed behnid her, but Hermione still caught a glimpse of the common rooms' colors of blue, bronze, red and yellow.

"You know, Ron stood in the common room for ten minutes, but I think he was remembering the night of the ball more than anything else." Harry said from behind her.

She spun to face him, a smile on her face. "I'm sure he did – I never told you that I saw her on her way to the boys' bath, did I?"

Ron's face reddened in embarrassment. "Can't you ever let something go? Parkinson and I made a mistake – nothing else."

"Well, I might know exactly how you feel." Hermione said, finally giving in to using a spell and magically lifting her trunk in the air.

"Hermione, I don't want to know anything about you and Malfoy." Ron replied.

"And I second that." Harry added.

"I didn't want to see Parkinson scurrying through the boys' halls in one of your jumpers – but I did." Hermione retorted. "You don't always get what you want."

Sometimes, Hermione thought her herself, you get what you need and wish you'd gotten what you wanted.

Ron rolled his eyes at her as she trotted down the stairs to the entrance hall. "Yeah – I still don't care to hear about Malfoy, Hermione."

"Fine."

They passed him on their way down – Pansy and Goyle were at his heels and he acted as if she wasn't standing there, not that Ron got any better a reaction from Pansy (somehow, though, both Gryffindors missed it when the two Slytherins turned to watch them leave and had to be hurried along by Goyle).

Yes, Hermione decided, everything since she'd received that stupid slip of paper had been a mistake.

-

The Slytherins had spilt up halfway through the train ride. Goyle and Tracey had left together, Daphne with Crabbe, Millicent with Nott, and Pansy and Blaise together. Draco therefore sat alone in a compartment – their usual. They'd figured they could make a clean break if they weren't together, just to be careful. And Draco was left alone to remember that time nearly eight years ago when the only thing they'd angsted about was whether the stupid hat would put them in Slytherin, and how much hell they'd give Potter for insulting Draco.

The downside had to be that Crabbe and Goyle weren't there to finish off the tradition of carrying his trunk for him, but (after the selfishness of the thought had been minimized a bit) he figured that watching out for the girls were more important.

As he stepped off the Hogwarts Express for the last time, he was surprised to find that his aunt, who he hadn't seen in seven years, standing alone and nervously, seeming to be waiting for him. In fact, she waved a bit when he spotted her.

He made his way to her, noting that she looked a bit tired. He figured that her sister disappearing off the face of the earth with her husband and leaving their son to wonder and worry also affected her. It was almost nice to know she cared that much. Almost. Even though he had better things to be doing, and more important conversations to look forward to – and, yes, he was being a bit of an arse, but did he really care?

…should that question even be answered?

"Aunt Andromeda." Draco greeted, pleasantly.

The middle-aged woman smiled a bit, still nervous despite the greeting. "Draco. I – well, we both know about your parents. It's no secret, afterall. You may not know, however, that they closed off the Manor last night." She took a deep breath. "Long story short, I'm asking for you to be a guest at my home until they unfreeze your assets."

"I – " Draco tried to think of something to say, but couldn't find it in him. He didn't mention it to the others all year, deciding that he'd think of something, but this…

He settled for nodding in acceptance, and received a wide smile in return.

-

Pansy stepped off the train, lugging her trunk off behind her. Blaise followed and they both paused to stand and watch the students mill about and say goodbyes – for some, their last.

Almost immediately, as if she had a radar designed specifically for him, she caught sight of a head of red hair among the crowd. She dropped her trunk and moved without a second thought, pushing anyone that happened to be in her way.

There were no consequences, no reprecussions, no worries. For once since this whole mess started, Pansy just was. And this blank her wanted Ron Weasley. Right now.

He looked at her in surprise when she appeared in front of him. "Pansy."

"Ron." She said, a smile threatening to form on her face. She managed to avoid it but couldn't take her eyes off him. She really just wanted to bask…and she almost stumbled because this felt like –

He looked at her in suspicion. "What do you wa – "

Pansy kissed him. Hard, passionate. Her hands on his jaw as he gave in to it and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Harry and Hermione eyed each other as cat calls and whistles echoed in the station as the couple continued to kiss (Ginny stood by her mother, making faces and Molly watched with a smile on her face and a hand over her heart). Not that Pansy or Ron noticed as the two decided to leave them to their…whatever it was they were doing.

Okay, now Pansy knew – Merlin did she know – Ron Wesley was no rich pureblood, and her mother would call her a blood traitor for whatever it was she was doing, but Pansy found that she didn't care as much as she thought she did. She and Ron, there was obviously something there, and she wanted to see what else.

"You." Pansy whispered, feeling unbelievably sappy with every moment. Against his lips, she said. "I think I might actually want you."

She felt Ron smile against her lips. "Everyone's cheering."

"I noticed." She pulled back and stepped away from him. "I'm not staying in England."

He frowned. "Where are you going?"

"France, Germany – maybe Italy. It's going to be me and Blaise."

"Oh." Ron said. "That's – "

Pansy rolled her eyes. "You are such a nitwit, Weasley. Send me an owl when Potter wins, all right?"

It took Ron a moment, but once he caught onto the implications of that question, he grinned (Pansy was a bit sickened by the fact that she thought it was cute, and by the fact that she was grinning as goofily at him as he was at her) and pulled her back to him.

-

So, Hermione was in a moderately bad mood as Ron and Pansy kissed in the center of Platform Nine-and-Three-Fourths, looking to be on a task to never stop – though it did when Blaise reminded Pansy that they had somewhere to go.

They passed a few Ravenclaws, and one blonde in particular turned and waved a bit shyly at Harry. Harry waved back as they passed, even blushing a bit and Hermione repressed the urge to roll her eyes.

"Harry, just go and kiss her or something already."

"What?" Harry turned to her.

"Luna. You fancy her, and she feels the same way. Just get it over with already." And, no, Hermione was not jealous, thank you. She was just stating the bare facts. There was no jealousy in it. Really.

"Thanks, 'Mione." She nodded and waved him off.

Hermione watched him nervously make his way to Luna and saw her smile at something he said. Her gaze then drifted to Pansy looking back every five seconds at Ron with the goofiest smile on her face as she and Blaise left. She almost tripped over a trunk and whalloped the third year whose "fault" it had been before stalking off, good mood ruined.

A pity, Hermione thought, because she'd wanted to open up a betting pool on how long that could last.

"You really do think too much."

Hermione spun around at the comment to face Draco, surprise evident on her face. "And you're the polar opposite, aren't you, Draco?"

He almost smiled at the response, but didn't. He stared at a spot over her shoulder and asked. "Do you remember what you said?" He took a step forward that Hermione baredly noticed as she stared at him questioningly. Where could Draco possibly be going with that? She's said a lot of things this year – and before.

A frown marring her face, she asked, "What I – ?"

"No looking back." Draco cut her off. He took another step towards her. "That's what you said that night, isn't it?"

The night of the ball, Hermione realized.

"Yes. But – "

"When you asked, I didn't answer." He slowly brought his gaze down to her, and she looked up into gray eyes, her own narrowed and scrutinizing, as he moved even further into her personal space. "I couldn't answer you before, Granger, but now I can."

A slow smile began to cross her face, and her heart was beating a million times in her chest, and she felt as if the entire station had suddenly warmed by ten degrees, but it was all in a good way, because everything that had happened since the ball was not for nothing.

"What was it I said?" She asked, pretending to be puzzled. "I think it was…no looking back?"

She didn't protest as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, mainly because she was watching him, and because at this point she couldn't care less. There may have been people watching, and what they were doing probably constituted a spectacle, but Hermione couldn't care.

She dropped her trunk in the fast movement, and before she could realize it, he kissed her and their lips met in this sweet passionate way. Hermione decide right then and there, as her arms drifted up to find their way around his neck, that nothing else in the world mattered but what she had at that exact moment, because this was perfect.

Draco, for some reason, wanted to be with her. And she, for some reason, wanted to be with him. And, if she'd been told two months ago that she'd be standing in the center of the chaos at King's Cross Station locking lips with Draco Malfoy, she'd have petioned for admittance into St. Mungo's.

When their lips parted, he didn't move away from her, and a shiver went down her spine when he whispered, "No looking back. Are you ready?" in her ear.

She decided he could have the last word this once, because she was nothing but a pile of goo on the ground.

And she had never felt so good in her life.

The End.

Ficathon Requirements:

One-Three Clichés You Would Like Your Story To Include:

1. Perfect sex/perfect first time/perfect kisses/perfect sexual instincts

2. Hermione and Draco are forced to attend a ball together and dance where everyone can see them and oh, they look so good as a couple and it's so obvious they are in love. sigh

3. Draco or Hermione is badly beaten to within a PICOMETRE of his or her life, is discovered by the other, and sweetly nursed back to health. Then they make hot monkey love.

As you can see, I had a few liberites with the third one. And, ooh, can you spot the extra ones I used?