Friday

Draco turned in bed, barely waking up and already feeling a headache starting.

Damn it, I shouldn't have drunk so much last night.

The dinner at the Parkinsons' the night before had gone til past midnight; it had been a long and boring meal that had him accepting refills of firewhisky to help numb his irritation at the obnoxiousness of the other members of the Wizengamot that were in attendance.

He rubbed his eyes and looked at the time: it was early, he had enough time to get dressed, have his breakfast and pen a letter to Hermione.

He pushed the soft navy blue comforter off of him and sat on the bed, looking to the left, where she usually slept when they were together.

"Fuck." he let out in a whisper, whishing he was in Hogsmeade, in their bed, waking up with her in his arms.

"Eli!" He called, running a hand through his hair, massaging his temples next

"Good morning, Master." Said the elf, apparating into the room.

"Get me a Pain Potion."

"Right away, Master!" and Eli disapparated.

Draco threw his legs off the side of the bed and stopped, his eyes catching sight of something unexpected on his nightstand: a white envelope.

He picked it up and opened it, nearly stopping breathing as he recognized the handwriting.

Draco,

I missed hearing from you last night, how was dinner?

He stared at the lack of a bottom signature in the mostly empty page and quickly realized: This is a two-way parchment!

His heartbeat sped up; that was even better than what he had been wishing for. He had hoped for a written response, she had given them an open communication way!

Draco quickly picked up a quill and started writing:

Good morning, my love

Dinner was a bore, as expected. Pansy's usually at those but not last night. So it was a night discussing bills and laws with five snobs and their wives. Truly awful.

He waited for a reply, but it didn't come right away. So he got dressed, downed the Pain Potion Eli gave him, and went to the kitchen.

Only when he was already at the breakfast table, he saw a new message had appeared:

Pansy was at mine's with Ginny and the boys.

Draco immediately wrote: Boys?

Hermione replied: Blaise, Harry and Theo – the latter two are finally engaged, by the way. Theo said 'yes' last night. Have you spoken to him today?

Draco wrote: No. He's either not here or sleeping.

H: Good.

He found both her question and her reply weird – why was she interested in whether or not had he talked to Theodore?

D: Why is it 'good'?

H: Something happened last night.

And that was getting even weirder, he quickly wrote back:

D: What happened?

No reply.

Draco knew that insisting Hermione told him what the hell had happened would only make her angry and wouldn't get him anywhere.

So he stood up and walked quickly to Theo's bedroom, finding the door locked – a clear sign that his friend was in there.

"Get up, Theodore!" Draco pounded on the door. "I need to talk to you!"

"Go to hell, ferret!" he heard Harry's voice from inside the room. "It's seven-thirty! On my day off!"

"Put your clothes on, Potter!" Draco replied from the door. "I'm not interested in seeing your naked ass!" he took down the weak wards Theo had on the door and walked in.

"For fuck's sake!" exclaimed Harry, pulling the comforter over his lap. "Unless Voldemort's back, I'm sure whatever it's got your wand in a knot can wait til ten! Get the fuck out, Malfoy!"

Draco glared at him, "Don't joke about that, Scarhead." He looked at Theo. "What happened last night?"

Immediately Theo and Harry exchanged a meaningful glance and Nott smirked.

Fuck. That isn't good. Draco thought.

"Well," started Theo. "Last night Blaise put his moves on Granger."

"HE WHAT?" Draco shouted, shocked.

"Theo, love-" Harry tried to stop his boyfriend.

But there was no stopping Theodore: "She's not marrying Weasley anymore. So, Blaise let her know he'd love to have her as his wife; he kissed her and sat at the head of the table during dinner."

Draco fisted his hands and stormed out of the room, hearing Harry admonishing his fiancée: "You shouldn't have told him!"

Draco sat back at the breakfast table and wrote on the enchanted parchment:

D: You're not marrying Weasley, and Blaise wants you.

After nearly a minute, Hermione replied:

H: I see you talked to Theo.

D: What did Blaise do, Granger?

H: He kissed me.

D: And?

H: Edged me for hours. Spanked me.

Draco spit out his morning latte. "What?" he exclaimed as he stared at her words. She fucked his friend? And he gave it to her good?

"I'll fucking-" he murmured angrily but stopped, suddenly realizing: she was playing him.

D: Liar. Blaise would never edge or spank you, Granger. Blaise 'makes love'.

H: And how on Earth would you know that?

He could almost hear her surprise and see her frown.

D: We shared women, a couple of times, during the war.

H: Hmm, he does kiss like someone that makes love. Slow and sensual.

Draco growled, knowing she was purposely angering him.

D: Stop it, Granger! And stay away from him.

H: I'll not do that. He's one of Scorpius' godfathers.

D: Not anymore.

H: Yes. He is. And he's a good friend.

D: A friend that wants to kiss you slow and sensually.

H: Yes, and if you keep this shit up for long, I'll accept his offer.

"Fuck." Draco whispered.

After a minute, Hermione added: Blaise thinks I'm making a mistake forgiving you.

Draco felt his heart nearly stop at her words.

D: So you forgive me?

She didn't reply.

"C'mon, Granger." he whispered, looking at the parchment, as if staring at it would make her reply appear faster.

But no reply came.

Draco finished his breakfast, keeping an eye on the parchment the whole time, rereading their conversation – it was like two months apart had never happened, talking to Hermione was as easy and fun as always.

But twenty minutes later, she still hadn't written back.

That was fucking torture!

Draco glanced at the wall clock and knew he had to leave or he'd be late for work.

So he pocketed the parchment and flooed to his office.

But while he sat on meeting after meeting that morning, listening to partners and workers, Draco glanced at the parchment from time to time, unable to focus on anything for long.

But Hermione kept him on suspense.

When lunchtime finally arrived, he sat alone in his office after finishing his meal, the parchment in front of him, still with no word from her.

If Hermione kept that silence for much longer, he would have no hair left on his head until the end of the day, from all the times he was running his hands through it.

He couldn't stop his anxiety; since Theodore said Hermione wasn't marrying Weasley anymore – something she had confirmed – Draco only thought about what that meant: he might have a chance to fix the damage he had done to his relationship with her!

As long as Blaise keep his fucking hands to himself!

And if he survived that silence treatment.

D: You're torturing me, love. He wrote.

Two minutes later, three letters appeared:

H: Yes.

Draco held his breath, writing:

D: 'Yes, you're torturing me' or 'Yes, you forgive me'?

To what she replied:

H: Both.

Draco sat back on his chair and let out a choked laugh, not believing his eyes.

She forgave him.

But Hermione added: That doesn't mean what you did wasn't wrong. But... hate the sin, love the sinner.

He let out a long breath, laughing as he did so.

She forgave him.

It felt like the weight of the world was lifted off his shoulders.

D: I want to go to you. Now!

H: No. We'll meet tomorrow. At the Ball.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, wanting to go to the Ministry anyway – but knowing he shouldn't, she'd be furious if he did that after she had told him not to.

D: Alright, love. But I'll dance with you at the Ball.

H: I'll be busy then, but I'll try to make time for you.

He laughed.

D: I'll prove to you that I've never been ashamed of you. The world will know you're mine and I'm yours.


A couple of miles away from the Malfoy Enterprises building, Hermione sat inside her office at the Ministry and tried to control the butterflies in her stomach; she knew she was smiling like a fool as she looked at his words.

H: I'll be working tomorrow. Do not distract me.

D: I'll try not to, love. But considering the way you were eye-fucking me two days ago at the Ministry, I can't promise you won't jump me on sight.

She bit her bottom lip, remembering his elegant suit and all the dirty thoughts it had given her.

She couldn't wait for the Ball.


Saturday

The Charity Gala

Hermione walked through the beautiful ballroom that Narcissa had turned the Ministry Atrium into, greeting the guests, making small-talk and thanking them for their presence, while trying not to search for a head of blond hair and grey eyes. She felt giddy, almost nervous, as she thought about seeing him after their talk the previous day.

"This place is unrecognizable." Said Ginny walking beside her, her hand on Pansy's.

"Aunt Cissy did not hold back on this Ball." Pansy said.

"Clearly not." Said Hermione with a snort, looking around the party. "Considering that half of these people I'm only able to recognize because I saw them in The Sacred Report."

"So that's where the stench comes from." said Ginny, looking around the room as if the purebloods stank.

"Ginny, love," said Pansy sweetly. "As a Prewett-Weasley engaged to a Parkinson you should keep your sexy mouth shut regarding purebloods' stench."

Hermione couldn't stop her laughter. "She's right, Ginny."

"While I do have to agree the guest list is vomit-inducing," continued Pansy. "More than just filling up a ballroom with closeted bigots, Aunt Cissy got you one very important thing for a Charity Gala, Hermione: she got you old money."

Hermione tilted her head, realizing her friend was right: "True."

"And," Pansy smiled slyly, "Being petty competitive fuckers, as soon as one of them donates, all of the others will as well."


On a table near a small stage, Draco and his parents looked at the people who attended the ball.

"Hermione is so graceful and charming." Narcissa said with a smile.

Draco, whose eyes were always on his beloved witch, nodded, "Yes. She looks gorgeous." he whispered, loving how the midi dark-blue dress clung just enough to Hermione's body to show off her curves and the slightly round baby-bump. "She's perfect." He sighed.

"She's a good-looking witch." offered Lucius, sipping his firewhisky.

"I see you've already done a healthy donation, son." Narcissa continued, pointing at a magical board on the stage, where the donations were shown.

"Yes." Draco replied, taking a sip of his own glass of firewhisky. "Just to get things going, mother. You know everyone here will feel pressured now-" he suddenly stopped talking, not believing his eyes as he saw who had just arrived. "Why the fuck did you invite them?" he asked as he watched Astoria Greengrass and her parents greeting the Fawleys on the other side of the ballroom.

Lucius let out a low groan when he saw who his son was talking about, "Fucking hell, Cissy. Why did you do that?"

But Narcissa calmly took a sip of her champagne before replying: "To show that there are no hard feelings between our families."

Draco exchanged a look with his father that made it clear neither man agreed to that, "I just hope that doesn't come back to bite us."

"Talking about bites-" said Narcissa. "I did notice a faint mark on Hermione's neck. You need to be more careful, son. If you marry her-"

"There's no if about it, mother." Draco frowned at her, knowing she was trying to make him nervous.

"So things are good between you two?" asked Lucius.

"Yes. She sent me a two-way parchment and we talked yesterday. Apparently Zabini has proposed to her." he clenched his jaw, "First Weasley, now one of my best friends wants my witch."

Narcissa hummed a sigh and spoke after a sip of champagne: "Don't worry about it, son. She loves you."

Draco silently nodded, keeping his eyes on Hermione, watching her talk to Frederick Macmillan – a Dark Lord supporter who had never got Marked.

"You filled this ball with vultures, mother." he said, clearly disgusted by the sight of so many pureblood purists in one room.

"Your father calls them 'friends', darling." She replied sweetly.

Lucius rolled his eyes at her.

And Draco had to laugh, his mother was very funny – when her sharp tongue wasn't directed at him.


A few minutes later, Hermione walked onto the stage to officially start the Ball.

"Good evening." She spoke with confidence. "Tonight, we gather here under one pretext: to show our solidarity to all Magical Beings and reaffirm the post-war societal commitment to see in them more than Creatures, but to recognize the contributing relevant members of our society that they are." She paused, giving them a smile, "Well, also we lured you here with champagne and amazing food on Ministry's dime." She winked at them and the audience laughed. Hermione internally thanked Pansy for tweaking her speech.

She took that moment to look around the room and easily spotted the grey eyes she had been searching.

Draco stood in front of the stage, watching her with his signature smirk, not mocking but sexy and filled with pride. His attire that night was elegant and very regal – just like she had expected it to be.

She cleared her throat and continued: "I would like to let you all know that the organization of this Ball wouldn't have been the same without the amazing Narcissa Malfoy."

All eyes turned to the blond woman momentarily.

"She" Hermione went on "made it possible for tonight to be this fabulous. Thank you, Narcissa." And people applauded. "Now, here is the Donation Board; you can see how much is needed for the Department of Magical Creatures' Rights to continue the invaluable work of helping our friends of all races and ensuring a fairer society to all. The donations made are already showing on the Board as you can see." She couldn't stop from glancing at Draco since the highest donation yet had been his: the absurd amount of two thousand galleons. "Enjoy the evening. And thank you all for your presence."

When Hermione walked out of the stage, many surrounded her with congratulatory words and questions; Draco just watched from afar.

"So, the rumours are true." He heard – and scented – the person who had spoken before he turned to see who they were.

"Miss Greengrass." Draco greeted her politely, trying to ignore her overpowering perfume. "What rumours do you talk about?"

"That you broke our engagement for the mudblood."

He glared at her, "Do not call her that."

But Astoria ignored his warning. "How embarrassing for your parents, to have their only son pining after dirt."

"Enough, Miss Greengrass. Miss Granger is a respectable witch-"

Astoria snorted, "Respectable? Unwed and pregnant?" She shook her head, looking at Hermione with clear disgust. "Polluting our world with half-blood brats. People like her don't deserve respect."

Draco glared at her, knowing he couldn't do anything without a scandal ensuing; he glanced back at Hermione and noticed she looked at him with a small frown.

He took a deep breath and replied in a venomous tone: "What to say of you, then? A woman who agrees to marry for money. I don't see how that is something one should be proud of."

But Astoria just kept looking at him with a mix of pity and loathing.

"I'm glad we've never kissed," she said. "If that's where your mouth has been." She motioned Hermione and gave her back to him, returning to her table.

Draco struggled to restrain himself but succeeded; walking back to his parents' table with his blood boiling.


"What did she want?" asked Lucius, as soon as Draco sat beside him.

"To let me know she knows about Hermione and me; spewing insults at her!" Draco growled, finishing his firewhisky, still trying to contain his anger. "She told me I'm an embarrassment to my family name."

"That's what most of the Sacreds will think, Draco." Narcissa shrugged. "What your family thinks is that Hermione is an amazing witch that we will be proud of seeing you married to." She cast a hard glance at her husband, but Lucius remained quiet and impassive. She looked at Draco again, "What's your plan for tonight, son?"

"To show Hermione I'm not ashamed of her. That I want her by my side and that I'll marry her no matter others' opinions on the matter." He fixed his father with a hard gaze.

Lucius let out a loud sigh and suddenly put his firewhisky glass on the table, standing and walking away from his son and wife with determination.

"Where's he going?" Draco asked his mother.

"I believe... to ask Hermione for a dance." Narcissa sounded surprised.

Oh, shit.


Hermione was on the dancefloor with Blaise, laughing at something he had said when she suddenly sensed him tensing up.

"What's wrong, Blaise?"

But before he could answer, she heard another voice:

"Miss Granger."

Blaise and she stopped dancing, and she turned to face the man who had spoken.

"Mr. Malfoy." She said, sounding between a greeting and a question, feeling Blaise's arm around her waist, protectively.

"May I have this dance, Miss Granger?" asked Lucius.

Hermione blinked in surprise before nodding, "Yes. Of course." she said, even though inside her mind a big 'why?' was being asked.

But Blaise held onto her firmly. "Are you sure, love?"

Lucius arched an eyebrow at him, seeing it was clear the young Zabini had more than friendship in mind regarding that witch.

"It's ok, Blaise." Hermione told him, and he let go of her waist.

Putting her hand on Lucius Malfoy's open palm and resting the other on his shoulder was one of the weirdest things Hermione had ever had to do since impersonating Bellatrix.

But he held her hand with gentleness and rested his left hand respectfully on the middle of her back, leading the dance with ease.

She didn't know why she was surprised at that – he was a Lord; he certainly had attended many balls and had had dance instructors since he could walk.

But, despite being easy on the feet, dancing with Lucius was uncomfortable for many other reasons; if one asked Hermione which song she danced with Malfoy Senior she'd never be able to remember.

"I sense some tension, Miss Granger." Lucius softly spoke.

She snorted, "Considering no memories of the both of us meeting in the Ministry are good ones, Mr. Malfoy. One time I was running from you and your... friends, and the other was your family's trial."

Lucius smirked and she realized from whom Draco had got his smirk. "I must apologize, Miss Granger. I see now the problems my... personal beliefs have caused my son's and your lives. It has been pointed out to me that my actions have made my son act-"

"Your son is an adult, Mr. Malfoy." She interrupted him. "He accepted your demands to marry a pureblood witch. He could've said no."

"He has said no." Lucius arched an eyebrow at her, still leading that dance skilfully as if they weren't in the middle of an important conversation.

"Yes, he has. Two months later than he should have." She replied.

Lucius nodded in understanding, and then he surprised her by saying: "You know, Miss Granger, my marriage was a love match."

Hermione didn't reply, not knowing where he was going with that; so he went on:

"I was bewitched by Narcissa the first time I saw her. And I honestly couldn't see myself marrying another woman just to fulfil some family obligation. Draco is a braver man than I."

She let out an annoyed sigh. "Were he brave then he'd have-"

"Presented a muggleborn to me? Said no to the Dark Mark?" Lucius shook his head. "That's not how things are done within the Sacred Families, Miss Granger." He led her away from the other dancing couples to avoid eavesdroppers. "I was lucky to love my wife and have her love me. For neither of us had much of a choice."

Hermione suddenly recalled Draco saying: Tu es mon premier choix. You're my first choice.

"You're not wrong though." continued Lucius. "When you say Draco's an adult now. But he did the right thing – later than he should have, but still."

"I get it, Mr. Malfoy." She gave him a small smile, feeling more at ease with him.

"Good." He returned the smile, looking at her with a serious gaze. "Draco clearly could've done worse."

"Really?" she rolled her eyes; the snob git probably thought that was a compliment. "What about the woman you chose for him?"

He winced slightly, "Well... that was not my wisest decision, I admit. But I was raised to-"

Hermione sighed in annoyance, "Your upbringing doesn't stop you from thinking for yourself, Mr. Malfoy. You're an adult, not a child."

Lucius frowned, a glint of admiration in his eyes – not many people had the courage to talk to him that insolently. Then he nodded, "I'm trying, Miss Granger, I'm truly trying to change my views. Can you accept that?"

Hermione looked at him as if he was an interesting specimen she had under a microscope. "Alright," she said after a while. "I accept you're trying to change." She smiled at him.

He seemed relieved.

Then she added: "I honestly believe Narcissa has a horrible punishment in store for you if I don't."

And Lucius laughed. "She sure does." Then he fixed her with a curious eye: "Know this, Miss Granger, were you a pureblood, I'd have had you betrothed to Draco by your eighth birthday."

It was Hermione's turn to laugh, startling Lucius. "I think you say those things believing they're compliments."

"Aren't they?" he frowned.

"No, they're not." she still chuckled. "They just tell me I'm not good enough in your eyes."

Lucius tilted his head as if tying to make sense of that. "I see." He said as the song ended. "But you are enough, Miss Granger. More than so. It has been pointed out to me that you make my son happy – and deep down that is all a father wants."

"Now that's nice." She smiled at him broadly. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

Another song was beginning, but Lucius guided her to the edge of the dancefloor and went back to his table.


Pansy grabbed Hermione's hand a minute later, as she was having some water.

"What the fuck was that?"

"What was what?" Hermione asked, failing to understand her question.

"You!" Pansy pointed at her, "Dancing – and laughing! – with Uncle Lucy!"

"Oh." Hermione understood her shock. "Yes. That was unexpected. But surprisingly pleasant."

Ginny gaped at her, "Pleasant? What the f-?"

"Miss Granger!" the girls heard a man calling her rather loudly.

"Hi, Mr. Lockwood." Hermione greeted the Daily Prophet photographer.

"Miss Granger, I need you and Lady Malfoy for a picture."

"Yes. Of course." She nodded, following the man towards the table where the Malfoys were. Subconsciously smoothing her dress and checking her earrings, wanting to look perfect to face Draco for the first time that night.

"Hermione, dear!" greeted Narcissa, pulling her to a hug. "Our Ball is incredible!"

"All thanks to you, Narcissa." Hermione smiled, glancing at Draco who had stood up to greet her.

"Miss Granger." He took her hand and laid a kiss on her knuckles. "You look stunning." He whispered.

She blushed, quickly glancing down his body, letting him know she definitely liked what she saw as well.

"Miss Granger, stand beside Lady Malfoy, please." said the photographer, and the two witches did as he asked. "Just like that! Perfect, side by side. Beautiful picture of two beautiful witches!"

He took a couple of pictures and then looked at Draco.

"Lord Malfoy, as tonight's most generous donor so far, would you please stand beside Miss Granger for a photo?"

"Yes." Draco promptly replied. "Of course. It'll be my pleasure." He wrapped an arm around her waist and stood beside her at a respectful distance.

"Get closer, Lord Malfoy, please." Said Mr. Lockwood.

And Draco got closer, his hand tightening around her.

Hermione looked at him, feeling his hand on her waist, her mind replaying the way his hands had touched her all over just four days ago.

"Let's give them a good picture, love." Draco whispered. "They may reuse it when we announce our engagement."

She shook her head but did smile, his proximity making her shiver in desire.

"Cold, Granger?" he whispered, knowing pretty-well the reason she was shivering.

"I'm fine, Lord Malfoy."

He looked at her with that self-satisfied smirk of his and, as soon as the picture was taken, he asked: "Would you grant me a dance, Miss Granger?"

She nodded in acceptance, wanting to stay near him a while longer.

Draco held her hand and led her to the dancefloor.

He rested his left hand on her lower back and held her close.

"Enjoying the evening, Lord Malfoy?" Hermione asked with a smile when they started dancing.

"Of course. I have the most beautiful witch of the room in my arms."

She softly snorted, "Flattery will get you nothing."

He pressed his lips in a tight line, "Is that what you say to Blaise?" his grey eyes looking towards the man in question.

"No. He can compliment me." She said nonchalantly, her hand on his chest touching the soft material of his tailcoat, toying with the fabric, imagining how she would grab onto it and ride him.

His stormy grey eyes were fixed on her, "Don't play silly games with me, Granger. You know how those tend to end."

"Refresh my memory, Lord Malfoy." She was feeling cheeky.

He spun her slowly and held her closer afterwards, saying face-to-face:

"Games end with you all tied up under me, love, screaming my name."

A loud gasp had them both looking at a couple dancing nearby who had heard his words loud and clear.

"Don't mind him!" Hermione quickly replied, blushing profusely. "He's had a few drinks already."

But the couple moved away from them, shaking their heads disapprovingly.

Hermione gaped at him, whisper-shouting next: "I can't believe you said that!"

But Draco shrugged, "I'm not ashamed of you, Granger, or of us." He looked into her eyes: "I've never been. I need you to know that."

"I know that already." She replied, still a little embarrassed. "But how would you feel if our roles were inverted, Draco?" She looked into his eyes. "If I were to marry Blaise for duty and asked you to be my side-piece, how would you feel?"

"Cold and gloomy in Azkaban." He replied somberly. "For I'd kill him."

She couldn't not smile at his dramatics. "And would you easily forgive me for ever thinking you would be happy just being my dirty secret?"

Draco hesitated, wanting to say 'Yes', but knowing it wouldn't be as easy as that.

"Not at first." He honestly replied. "But if you apologized and we talked... then yes."

They kept dancing smoothly, Draco leading her around the dancefloor with grace.

"And if I weren't pregnant," Hermione continued, needing to know: "would you have done all you did? Or would you still be getting married to a pureblood witch in four months?"

"I wouldn't, believe me." Draco shivered in disgust at the thought of marrying Astoria. "I miss you, Hermione; I want you in my life- I want our life back." he kept his eyes on hers, no occlumency walls up, baring his soul to her. "Our life was perfect, love. Our house. Our bedroom. Everything we used to do together. I love you."

They heard another gasp and looked at the couple beside them; the witch was staring at them with surprise in her eyes.

"Good evening, Mrs. Fawley." Draco greeted her.

"Lord Malfoy." The woman bowed her head as she still danced. "Miss Granger." And her disapproval couldn't be clearer.

"I see you're looking at my witch," Draco went on, sensing Hermione tensing up at his words. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

Mrs. Fawley looked even more astonished, "Y-your witch, Lord Malfoy?" Her eyes going down Hermione's body to her obvious baby-bump.

"Yes. The most brilliant, gorgeous witch I've ever seen; any man would be honoured to have her as his wife. Don't you agree, Mr. Fawley?"

And the wizard dancing with the woman stammered: "O-of course, Lord Malfoy."

Hermione blushed and Draco led them away from the nosy couple.

"What are you doing, Draco?" She had to ask. "You know she'll-"

"I'm not hiding how I feel about you anymore." he said confidently. "And you want to know if the pregnancy helped me see reason? Of course, it did. But it's you I miss, love. And you can hide your feelings if you want – I won't."

She felt her heart pounding, "You know this will cause the exact thing we have been trying to avoid: the media will fall upon us ruthlessly." She closed her eyes briefly, beginning to feel anxious. "For Merlin's sake, you were engaged to Miss Greengrass until three days ago! And I was to wed to Charlie!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, "Afraid of a scandal, Granger? That's what these people love the most. Our wedding will be all they talk about for the next year at least."

"Keep your voice down." She said, shaking her head, glancing at the people dancing around them who started to look at them with curiosity. "And I haven't accepted marrying you."

"Yet." he added.

"Is this your fiancée, Lord Malfoy?" asked a man nearby.

"No!" Hermione replied before Draco could. "He's drunk. I'm so sorry for his indiscretions."

Draco smirked and pulled her closer, looking into her eyes and barely dancing at all.

And she knew what he was going to say.

"I'll marry you, Granger."

She shook her head, her heart jumping in nervousness and elation; her mind debating if she should laugh or hex him.

"My name will never be Mrs. Malfoy." She replied in an defying whisper.

"Oh, on the paper it will." He said, his tone filled with pride, his eyes glinting with desire. "Lady Hermione Jean Draco Malfoy."

She gasped, "What? You're adding your first name too?"

"If I can, absolutely." He nodded. "But to me you'll always be Granger." His grey eyes sparkled at her, knowing what that statement would do to her.

He touched his nose to hers.

"Stop it, Draco." She whispered, not really wanting him to stop. "You're giving them a show."

"Let's go home, love."

She shook her head. "I can't leave now. This Ball is for my Department."

He nodded and let out a resigned sigh. "Yes. I understand. Just know this, love: if I knew you wouldn't hex me, I'd be on my knee right this moment asking you to marry me, in front of everyone."

She inhaled sharply, "Do not do that."

"Like I said: I would, if I knew you wouldn't hex me. As I know you might... I won't."

The song changed and they continued dancing.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, chuckling as they twirled around the ballroom, feeling happy like she hadn't in a long time. Most of the eyes were on them, pictures were taken, still she felt exhilarated and certain of Draco's feelings for her.

Then her eyes met a pair of furious ones and she recalled something with a frown: "I saw you talking to Astoria before."

"Yes." Draco replied bitterly. "Mother invited the Greengrasses, to show there are no hard feelings between our families."

Hermione grimaced. "By the look on Astoria's and her mother's faces as they talk to Mrs. Fawley, there are a lot of hard feelings."

Draco glanced at the witches she mentioned and caught Astoria's angry stare.

"She knew already, about us." He whispered. "But the annulment was signed by both our families, and father was very generous. I owe her nothing."

"Oh no!" Hermione fake-gasped. "Should I be giving your donation back?" her tone mocking. "Now that you're about to be poor after paying for the annulment."

His smirk was back. "Were we alone, I'd be smarting that ass of yours, Granger."

And a woman nearby gasped.

Hermione blushed again, mouthing to her: "He's drunk. Sorry."

Draco chuckled and shrugged, "Three properties less rich still doesn't make me any poorer, love."

Hermione glared at him, the familiar disapproving gaze she always gave him every time he acted like a spoiled little shit.

"I even missed that!" He laughed, adding in a serious tone: "I'm taking you home tonight, Granger."

She looked at him with a smile filled with anticipation, feeling the butterflies in her stomach again, "Yes, you are."

(to be continued...)


Note: the night is not over yet, but the chapter hit 25 pages, so I had to cut it in half to make reading it comfortable. Final chapter coming soon!