"It's perfect." Parvati smoothed out the skirt of Ginny's dress as the redhead adjusted the neckline in the mirror. Hermione was in Gryffindor tower, perched on an ottoman as Parvati and Ginny got dressed for the All Hallow's Eve ball. She was already in her pale gold dress, shivering in the drafty air.

Ginny ran a brush through her hair one last time and turned to Hermione. "Alright then, let's get out there. The boys are probably getting into trouble as we speak."

Parvati laughed. She looked beautiful in her burnt orange sari, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She was Ron's date and Hermione wasn't sure how she was supposed to react to her. There was no jealousy between them. Atleast, not on her end. And it didn't seem that Parvati had any issue with Hermione's presence, but she didn't know how friendly she was supposed to be. Not friendly enough and she would come off as jealous. Too friendly and it might seem forced. So instead, she held back. Let Ginny and the other girl fuss over each other.

She wasn't exactly excited about this ball anyway. If she wasn't head girl and therefore obligated to be there, she might not have gone at all. She wasn't feeling very social. She was confused about her friendships, uncomfortable with her scar on display, and regretting accepting Cormac McLaggen's invitation more with each passing minute.

"Let's go, Hermione," Ginny called on her way out of the dorm room.

"Right behind you!"

On top of it all, there was a knot of anxiety in her chest due to the fact that she would have to dance with Malfoy within the hour. She had given him the cold shoulder for the past three days, since the night in the great hall. When she nearly had a panic attack at the sight of his Dark Mark as it pressed against her waist. It wasn't the first time she had seen it, but something about the context shocked her to her senses. Whatever she was doing with him could not continue. Nothing good could come of it. She held onto her anger from the last time they really spoke like armor.

She double checked her neck in the mirror. The charm she used to obscure the red welts he left on her throat with his mouth was a simple one, but she was still paranoid that everyone could see them. They were almost entirely gone at this point days later, but she wasn't taking any chances.

At least there was one worry she could ease at the moment, she realized looking in the mirror. Her hair was made silky by hair potions, falling down her back in a slightly more tame version of her usual curls. Ginny had convinced her to go with minimal cosmetics, only her lips dabbed with color. The dress the shopkeeper gifted her clung to every curve, revealing much of the upper swells of her breasts and more importantly, her arms.

The mudblood scar shattered the pretty visage with its gruesome, jagged lines. She wasn't ashamed of it, but having it so visible to anyone who looked felt vulnerable in a way that made her skin crawl. With a wave of her wand, she transfigured two socks from Ginny's floor into ivory gloves. She doubted her friend would mind. She had seen many other girls leave the dorms wearing elegant gloves and so she didn't think they would stand out.

Ginny and Parvati were waiting for her in the common room when emerged. Ginny glanced over her gloves but didn't say a word. Parvati wiped the corner of her eye and turned away. Had she been crying? She raised an eyebrow at Ginny who shook her head silently. Lavender's absence hit her then. Parvati lost someone close to her. Someone who lit up at the prospect of balls. Suddenly, she felt guilty for her standoffishness.

The girls descended the main staircase to the chamber outside of the great hall, where students mingled and met their dates and friends. The autumnal decor spilled out of the makeshift ballroom, a few of Hagrid's giant pumpkins flanking the doors. She had overseen much of the decorating so none of it was a surprise to her, but she watched several students gasp in wonder as they got their first glimpses of the great hall.

Harry and Ron were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Both of them were in a modern cut of formal robes this time around. Ron looked so much more confident without the lace and frills, waiting for Parvati, who smiled shyly down at him.

Harry's eyes were transfixed on Ginny, and he pecked her on the cheek as soon as she reached him. Hermione watched her friends unite with their dates, an odd mixture of nostalgia, grief, and joy tumbling around in her gut.

"You look lovely, Hermione." Harry was the first to greet her. She thanked him and looked at Ron. Parvati clung to his arm and he puffed his chest out in pride. He smiled at her. It was a small, wistful smile, but a smile all the same. She smiled back.

She had thought a lot about him the last few days and realized that he had never treated her very well. Not as a boyfriend. He hadn't put her first, not even when she really needed him to. She was hurt over it, trying to understand why she seemed to give more than anyone else gave back, but she wanted to move on. She didn't want to lose the friendship that had cemented its way into her life. It was just going to take time for those wounds to heal.

Padma and Ernie Macmillan joined their little group as she felt a hand land on her shoulder.

"I thought that was you." Cormac McLaggen stood before her, giving her an appreciative once over. "You look unbelievably hot, Granger." She bristled at the use of her last name, but took the arm he offered her anyway and let him lead her away from her friends.

"Thank you, Cormac. You look great too. Do you want to go inside?"

"Yeah, I already got us a table." He led them inside and Hermione craned her neck to take in the entire great hall. She knew about the decor but she had to admit that the all together effect was enchanting. Autumn foliage garland was everywhere, hanging from the walls in a way that made her feel like she was in a forest. Pumpkin centerpieces dotted each table and more jack o lanterns floated overhead under the night sky ceiling. Ghosts drifted by, also enjoying the festivities, reminding her of every Halloween she spent at Hogwarts.

Cormac talked about himself the entire time they sat at their table, waiting for the headmistress to kick off the ball. Apparently, he had a job lined up for him at the ministry thanks to his uncle, a cushy position in the finance sector. She nodded along politely, actually relieved that he seemed completely uninterested in her life.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Malfoy enter the great hall with a small group of Slytherins flanking him, hoping to suck up a bit of his attention. Her goblet froze half way to her lips. Because he looked good. Really fucking good. He made the Hogwart's uniform look high fashion so it was no surprise that he wore the modern cut dress robes well. But it was his lack of effort that had girls staring at him.

His hair was unruly as usual, his posture relaxed. He knew he looked good. There was no hair gel or heavy aftershave or flashy cufflinks. Not like most of the other boys. It was just Malfoy, and that in itself was hard to look away from.

Goyle trailed behind him, Millicent Bulstrode on his arm. Astoria Greengrass hovered by Malfoy's elbow, looking smug.

"So then I told the recruiter that I wasn't signing for less than a ten thousand galleon contract," Cormac finished, swishing his pumpkin juice around his goblet. The poor thing thought she was listening to his quidditch stats the entire time. "But it doesn't matter, because Puddlemere United is scouting later this year, and my dad is tight with the owners."

"That's nice," she nodded.

"Oh, Miss Granger." The headmistress appeared next to her. "It's time for the wizarding waltz. You and Mr. Malfoy and the other prefects should take the center floor now. Come, come." She waved her arms animatedly, ushering her out of her seat. The other prefects seemed to take notice, many of them standing with their dates. She spotted Theo Nott tip his flask into the pumpkin juice bowl near the Slytherin tables. She caught his eye and frowned, but he just winked like she was in on the secret.

She was about to storm over to him and deduct points when Malfoy grabbed her arm. His warm fingers wrapped around the bare skin of her bicep, purposefully avoiding her gloves. "Come on, Granger. They're waiting for us."

"But-did you see that? Alcohol was explicitly forbidden." He led her to the center of the great hall. Several other couples, including Ron and Parvati, faced each other in a loose arrangement all around them.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist over it. It's just firewhisky."

"Unbelievable." She wondered for the thousandth time why McGonagall thought it would be a good idea to make him head boy.

"Take my hand, Granger. People are starting to look at us," he hissed. There was a hush over the room as the orchestra readied themselves. McGonagall, dressed in formal robes, announced the waltz. She grabbed Malfoy's hand, sealing her palm to his scarred one. Her other hand took hold of his shoulder, just like when they had practiced. He held her waist, and the contact made her shiver slightly. The material of her dress was so thin, a flimsy barrier.

The first haunting notes of the orchestra sang out around them and he smoothly moved them into step with the other couples. She let him lead her, bending to each push and pull and letting her feet follow. It was easier this time, pretending that she was still standing on the tops of his shoes like a little kid.

In novels, heroines always described dancing with men as if the entire world fell away around them. She had never understood that, had always found it silly. But as she spun around and around under the night sky with the man in front of her, she thought maybe there might be some kind of merit to the sentiment, good or bad.

Malfoy stared at her. At her mouth, her decolletage, the slit in her dress. It was greedy, the way he looked at her. His hand burned on her waist. She couldn't tell if he liked what he saw, only that he didn't seem interested in looking away. "You look passable."

She scoffed. "But not like a pureblood socialite, right?"

They spun around again, swapping places with Ron and Parvati. "I would never expect that of you, Granger." She rolled her eyes and shook her head. She should have known he had specific taste in women. And that was pureblooded. Like Pansy, Astoria, Daphne. The kind of girl he would marry one day.

The other night he told her that he couldn't stop thinking about what they did and she believed him. For some reason, he had a fascination with her. A perversion. He liked to corrupt and she made herself ripe for the picking. But at least she got something out of it.

The song ended on one last melancholy note. He let go of her like she burned him and she stepped away just as quickly. "You should get back to McLaggen. He'll be missing the sound of his voice by now."

He departed without her response and so she returned to her table. Everyone was standing now, making their way onto the christened dance floor. She spotted Ron on her way back to Cormac and her stomach sank. She recognized his look. It was the same look he wore the entire night of the Yule Ball, years earlier. Jealousy.

There was no time to consider it right now. "Now you're mine, Granger," Cormac said as he took her arm. But she wasn't and she wanted him to stop saying it. She belonged to no one. Not Cormac. Not Ron. Not Malfoy, even if they all felt differently. "Let's dance."

Another orchestral song was struck up, still too early in the night for the student selected band to come out. Cormac put his hands on her waist and she tried not to stiffen. They swayed like all the other students. He continued his one sided conversation about quidditch and she wondered if it was too early to leave yet.

"So what about you?"

"What?"

"What are you doing after graduation?" The question surprised her, but maybe she judged him too soon.

"Oh. Well, I have a healing apprenticeship set up at St. Mungo's. I just need to get all O's this year and it's a done deal." His eyebrows raised in interest.

"Wow. A healer. That's ambitious." It was a big deal to her and she was pretty proud of it.

"Yeah. I mean, Madam Pomfrey helped me fill out the applications. She vouched for me…"

She trailed off when she realized he wasn't really listening. His hands were slipping lower and lower on her backside, until it was clear that it was no accident. She reached behind her and grabbed his hands, pulling them back up to safer territory. He didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed. They finished out the song and then she made a beeline for the refreshments table, claiming thirstiness.

She made sure to fill her goblet with sparkling cider, not the spiked pumpkin juice. She hated drinking alcohol. Didn't like the way it made her feel out of control. The headmistress had not heeded her recommendation that catering be arranged from a Hogsmeade business and so the house elves were working double shifts tonight to provide refreshments. She decided to reuse her goblet to cut down on dishes going back to the kitchen and placed it on a side table for later.

She danced with Harry next, Ginny watching from their table, rubbing her sore feet. A quick drink break later and she was back on the dance floor with Cormac. This time, he kept his hands where she preferred them, back to talking about his achievements. Between all the twirls, she started feeling a bit woozy.

"Alright there, Hermione? You look flushed." He peered down at her. That's when she realized her legs were starting to feel wobbly.

"I'm fine. I just need to sit for a minute." The great hall was starting to get warm from the press of bodies. She was just thirsty. The lights swam before her as she made her way back to the table where she left her goblet, taking another sip of the cold cider. Her table was empty, but she sat anyway.

Her limbs felt funny and the lights seemed too bright. Was this another panic attack? Was it the crowd? She got up and slipped from the great hall, stumbling slightly. The antechamber was cool and quieter. There were a few couples hiding out away from the prying eyes of professors. Feeling like she was intruding, she rounded the corner to the girls' lavatory.

It was blessedly empty, everyone jammed into the great hall. The oak door swung shut behind her as she stumbled to the mirror above the sinks. It showed her reflection, but it seemed warped. Something was wrong, but as soon as the thought crossed her mind it was gone again. Like grasping at straws. She couldn't remember what she was worried about. It was like floating. Drifting away with the tide. Did she do drugs? Is this what drugs were like? She had never touched them before. But if this was their effect she understood why people liked them so much.

She giggled at her reflection. She was so careful to not touch the spiked juice but she might have accidentally done drugs. The irony wasn't lost on her. But wait. Why did she not drink the juice? That's right. Because she needed to be in control. This was bad. This was very bad. It was scary to be out of control. She ran the tap and splashed water from the sink on her face. Wake up. Wake up.

The door swung open, light spilling into the room from the hall. The light winked out as the door slammed shut again. She turned to see Pansy Parkinson in her jeweled dress.

"Flying high, mudblood?" The girl laughed and Hermione wanted to laugh with her but something told her not to. A little corner of her brain that still seemed capable of logic. "We thought you needed something to loosen up that frigid little body." She approached in the mirror, the reflection of her arm reaching out to fix Hermione's hair. It was curling back up already, and not neatly.

"Come on, let's get you back in there. Everyone is going to want to see you like this," she giggled.

"Come on, princess. Back to the ball." The black haired girl tugged on her arm and she followed, trying to keep track of her feet. The great hall was so loud. Too loud. It felt like everyone was roaring around her. Harry and Ginny were still dancing. They seemed so far away. She wanted to go to them.

"Look, Mill. Granger is trashed out of her mind," Pansy chortled to the big, beefy Slytherin girl. Millicent and Goyle spun in front of her vision as Pansy twirled her around in front of them. "Funny, right. I didn't think I'd ever see it. But all it took was tasteless bonewhite mushroom powder." They laughed, their faces blurring. She didn't want to laugh anymore. She felt scared. Like she wanted to run. But there was no way to do that. Not like this. She was out of her body.

"Hermione?" Ron's angry voice came from over her shoulder. She turned to face him. "What the hell are you doing?" His cheeks were pink and his hands fisted at his sides. "Dancing with Malfoy. And now you're getting wasted with Pansy Parkinson?"

She shook her head. She hadn't wanted to do those things. "I had to dance with him," she tried to say. It came out slow, but he heard her.

"Then what are you doing now? This isn't like you," he fumed. "First you dump me, and now you're partying with Slytherin? I thought you were better than that." His face was red and there was spit at the corner of his mouth. She hated when he was angry like this. This wasn't right. They weren't supposed to hurt each other tonight. She tried to make him see that she didn't want to be out of it. She didn't want to be here anymore.

He grabbed her arm, not hard enough to hurt but the location was bad. Right over her scar. It twinged with soreness and fear split right down her whole body.

"No! No," she sobbed. A few people turned to look at them. Why were they looking? She could hear the Slytherins laughing behind her.

"Mione. Why are you acting like this?" Why was she acting like this? It was a good question. She stumbled away from him and hurt crossed his face. Pansy cut across her line of vision again.

"Come on, mudblood. Dance for us again." That word. She hated that word. It made her throat constrict. Her heart was beating out of her chest. The room spun, faces flashed in and out. It was hard to breathe. She sucked in air, but it kept getting stuck in her chest.

Someone shoved her from behind and she stumbled into Goyle's big barrel chest. He laughed and the sound was too close to her ear. She could see the sweat on his neck and feel his meaty hands around her arms.

"Don't touch me!" The scream tore out of her throat, chased by fear. There were people staring and whispering, but no one would help her. Ron stood there with a look of shock, confusion, and anger mixing in his face. She pushed Goyle away and stumbled back, trying not to lose her footing. Somebody laughed.

"She's fine. We were just having fun. Look, she loves it."

"Granger, let's go." A hand wrapped firm around her bicep. It dragged her away from the prying eyes, from the laughing faces, from a glaring Ron. She looked up to see Malfoy's familiar face, his mouth a tight line as he towed her towards the doors. She just wanted to get out of there. Away from everyone else. Somewhere quiet where she could get her hyperventilating under control.

He was pushing the doors open when Cormac McLaggen caught up to them. He went in to touch her shoulder, but stopped short when his eyes caught on Malfoy beside her. "Hermione. Do you want me to walk you-"

"Cormac?" Malfoy snapped. " Fuck off."

The Gryffindor nodded and turned back the way he came. She stuck to Malfoy's side and let him guide her out into the corridor, empty of students this time. "What happened, Granger? I left you alone for one hour."

She wanted to snipe at him that he didn't need to keep tabs on her, but there wasn't a lot of supporting evidence to back up her argument at the moment. That, and she was still gasping for air. Little choking noises came out of her throat as she struggled. She wanted to run, but she was still stumbling, her vision blurred.

"Come on. Sit down." He led her to the steps and she sank on to one, body wracked with tremors. "Put your head between your knees. There you go." His hand pressed her upper body down into her lap, folding her over her knees.

"I'm gonna be sick," she whined. It came out slurred.

"Fine. Be sick." The nausea abated, thankfully. She stared at her shoes, the gold satin heels firm on the step as she gulped in air and tried to ground herself. The mind healer told her to focus on stimuli she could identify. See, smell, feel, hear.

She could see her shoes on the step below her. She could hear the muffled sound of a band starting up their set. She could smell Malfoy. He smelled like Amortentia. She could feel his hand making circles on her back. She focused on that until the panic loosened.

"Okay?" She nodded, the room still spinning. Apparently, grounding techniques didn't negate the effect of drugs.

"I'll admit, I'm surprised. What did you take?" She stood on wobbly legs and tried to remember. She didn't think she took anything.

"Nothing. I didn't even drink the pumpkin juice. I don't like alcohol." She stumbled and he wrapped an arm around her torso, holding half her weight as they started up the stairs.

"Did you leave your drink alone?"

"Maybe. While I was dancing."

"What does that mean, Granger? Why weren't you getting new goblets?" It was for the house elves. He wouldn't understand. They limped along the corridors, towards the changing staircases. "Well?"

"It was one less goblet to be washed. For the elves," she slurred. She watched understanding settle onto his features.

"Fucking Salazar. That's so typical," he grumbled. The stairs moved and she nearly collapsed, but his arm stayed tight around her waist. Their portrait eyed them suspiciously, but swung open with no comment.

He kicked open her door and helped her lay down on her bed. The whole room was starting to fade in and out. The realization hit her then. What someone, Pansy, had done to her. All that could have happened. It was terrifying. She didn't feel her eyes watering until the tears were spilling out of the corner of her eyes, wetting the hair by her temples.

All the laughing and staring faces swam in her memory. Ron's angry expression. The complete lack of power over herself. She wiped the corner of her eye with the edge of her blanket.

Malfoy sat on the side of her bed and picked up her foot. He deftly undid the buckle on her shoe and pulled it off. It thunked on the ground by her bed. He did the same to the other, not looking at her. She watched him, taking the opportunity to observe him.

He was being nice. Well, as nice as he could get. It was strange. Stranger still was the relief that coursed through her when she realized he was there, pulling her out of the great hall. And not just relief that someone was helping her. Relief that it was him. Not Ginny or Harry. Him. He was the only person she wanted to be around right now. And she didn't know why.

He dragged her duvet up to her chin. Her dress was still on but she would have to sleep in it, too disoriented to change into pajamas. His eyes landed on her face and she thought she saw something in his eyes. Empathy or concern, maybe.

She dragged her arms out from under the blanket and rested them over her middle and his gaze dropped to her gloves. She was still wearing them, the white fabric nearly glowing in the dark. He grabbed the top of one and rolled it down her arm, exposing her skin. It turned back into a sock in his hand, the spell broken.

He reached for the other and she stiffened. He glanced at her face but removed the glove anyway. Slowly, reverently, watching her arm as her scar came into view. She knew he was thinking about what she said to him three days ago. She meant it. Still meant it. But, what he did for her tonight felt like an apology.

The scar was red and puckered, even after months of healing. He brushed his thumb over the letters softly and they both watched as goosebumps raised on her skin. "Why did you cover it?"

She sniffed, debating whether she should be completely honest with him. "I don't like people to see it. It feels vulnerable. Like everyone can see the mess I am inside." The words tumbled out of her, taking an unexpected weight off her chest. It felt good to say that out loud. To someone who didn't need her to have it all together for them. He nodded like he understood. Didn't offer any platitudes or insincere condolences. She didn't want them anyway.

A sharp pain tore through her middle, twisting her abdominal muscles and gritting her teeth. Cruciatus. She should have known the aftershocks would have been brought on by the stress of tonight. Her face refused to stay neutral, revealing her pain.

"What's happening, Granger?" Why couldn't he have left just a minute earlier?

"It's phantom pain." Another twisting cramp in all her muscles punctuated her sentence. "I get them when I'm really stressed or upset. Lasting effects of the cruciatus curse."

"I didn't know that could happen," he said tightly.

"It's rare. Only happens in cases of prolonged use," she gasped out. "I just have to wait for them to pass." She rolled on her side and curled into a ball, clutching her abdomen and breathing through pursed lips. He grumbled something under his breath and then grabbed a small throw blanket she had at the end of her blanket. She watched him roll it up tightly and take out his wand to cast a warming charm over it. He lifted her blanket and placed the warm bundle against her middle. The heat soothed her muscles a bit, calming the spasms. She sighed in relief.

"Crookshanks!" He called out to her kneazle, who came trotting into her room. He hopped up onto the bed next to Hermione and laid down across her hip. She stroked the kneazles head, glad to have him near. The orange cat eyed Malfoy suspiciously but refrained from hissing.

"Alright, sleep it off." He reached over and pressed his thumb to her bottom lip. She didn't realize what he was doing until he swiped his thumb across her lip, wiping away the last little bit of her lipstick. Miraculously, a tendril of lust bloomed in her belly as he looked at her face. But he simply stood to make his way to the door.

"Why do you cover yours? Your mark." She didn't know where the question came from, but it was out there now. He scoffed, looking at Crookshanks, who was kneading into her blanket.

"I don't like to see it. It's a reminder." He turned his back on her. "Of the mess I am inside."

He reached for her door, swinging it open before him. He was halfway through when she called out to him once more.

"Malfoy?" He paused, waiting for her question.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Just go to sleep, Granger."

She did.