Hey everyone!

So... straight off the bat, I want to give massive props to my editor, JessariOfErebor. She actually came up with this chapter, so if you enjoy it, please give her a shoutout in the comments! I was actually very much a party pooper at first and didn't really like the idea, but once I came around to it... this is now one of my fave chapters of this whole damn fanfic, so I really hope you guys have fun!

Before we get stuck into it, a song came out this week that really makes me think of Lumione. At least, it makes me think of them in this fic. So if you want to, maybe give it a listen? It's called +5 STAR, by CL.

Enough jibber jabber from me. Read on, thank you, and enjoy!

Hermione had believed, perhaps a little naively, that Minerva's new rules would bring the Trial the only resolution it needed. This was far from true. The Slytherins did seem less tense, less quiet, than they had been. But they didn't seem happy either.

Hermione kept a special eye on them during breakfast. She hadn't thought they would look so… beaten down. Thanks to Minerva, the Trial had been made safer for everyone. The fact that it had even been allowed to continue at all was something they should probably be grateful for. Why weren't they relieved?

About half an hour into the first class of the day, Hermione understood what had happened. Apparently, while the Slytherins had been in the Infirmary, one of the other students had eavesdropped and had spread the story of the Trial throughout the school. The other Houses were taking the news badly. Snide remarks were made about how they must not be so cunning if they'd been caught, how it was very immature of them to try to scare each other, and the like. This wasn't exactly kind, but it wasn't too bad. Unfortunately, some of the students went as far as to suggest that the Trial was typical, that Slytherins would always take opportunities to be cruel. Hermione heard things like, 'At least they're turning on one another rather than tormenting everyone else, like they usually do.'

This did not sit well with Hermione at all, and by the time her first class was over, she'd been forced to give out more detentions and dock more points than she had throughout the whole term so far.

Thankfully, before lunch began, Minerva stood to address the school.

"I understand that word has spread of a certain event that took place in Slytherin House yesterday. Rest assured that no-one was hurt, and that all the appropriate measures have been taken." The Headmistress's cool gaze came to rest on the Slytherin table. "I want to make it perfectly clear that Hogwarts has no intention of abandoning all of its traditions. The world changes, and we change with it, but our history is an important part of our identity. It is in this spirit that tomorrow night Hogwarts will be celebrating a tradition that hasn't been practiced in many years; the Halloween Ball."

Chatter spread all throughout the Hall at this. Even the Slytherins seemed to rouse themselves out of their collective sulk to whisper to one another. More than anything, they all seemed… confused. Hermione felt much the same. She'd read about the Halloween Ball in Hogwarts; A History, but if her memory served her, it had only been a few paragraphs long.

Seeing that no-one seemed to really know what she was talking about, Minerva shook her head and said quietly, "I think perhaps a brief history lesson might be in order. Professor Malfoy?"

Hermione peered down the table at Lucius, who looked surprised to be called upon.

Minerva's eyes were sharp, but her tone was calm. "If you would be so kind? I believe history is a particular passion of yours."

Hermione felt her respect for Minerva rise even higher. The old witch was clever. Compromise. That was a way to lead, too. The faculty was a team, after all.

Lucius nodded his acquiescence and rose. Every eye on the Hall was on him, and not all of them were pleased. The Gryffindors begrudgingly accepted him as a teacher, particularly since he went out of his way to be good at his job and didn't play favourites too badly. That didn't mean they were happy to see him being singled out.

Lucius' grey eyes passed over the students, seemingly lost in thought as he considered, At last, he said, "Halloween has never been a holiday much esteemed by the magical community. It has its roots in pagan tradition amongst muggles, of course, but among magical folk it has little real significance. Not so at Hogwarts. In the early 1900s, a group of Muggleborn students held a dress up party in their common room as part of their cultural heritage. By the 1920s, this had become a cherished school-wide event. There were feasts, obviously. There was dancing. There was a Best Dressed competition. For reasons we all know, such traditions were stamped out by the 1970s and all we had left of them was the Halloween feast." Lucius paused. "At no other wizarding school than Hogwarts could such a tradition come to fruition."

Murmurs broke out amongst the students as he sat and Minerva stood once more.

"Thank you, Professor Malfoy." To the students she said, "I am delighted to announce that tomorrow night, the Halloween Ball will be held in the Great Hall. There will be prizes for the Best Dressed boy and girl, and among the staff, the Best Dressed Witch and Wizard. The Best Dressed will have the honour of opening up the ball. "

This sparked everyone's interest, including Hermione's. A tradition that hadn't been practiced in decades? Just taking part, obviously, would be an absolute privilege. But winning?

Hermione tried, and failed, to smother a truly diabolical smile.

Now, wouldn't that be something?

Twenty-four hours wasn't very much time to plan a costume.

Hermione didn't like rushing things. She preferred to plan, to explore every option. But considering that her costume had to be ready by tomorrow evening, she didn't really have the luxury of taking her time.

Her choices were endless. Even when she tried to narrow it down, there were half a hundred women she would have gladly gone as. She gave real, serious consideration to the Bride of Frankenstein. Frankenstein was one of her favourite books. Unfortunately, the costume wasn't ambitious enough and she wanted to win Best Dressed Witch. Besides, she wasn't sure the Muggle classic would be recognised by Minerva, who would surely be making the final judgement.

In the end, she went for Maleficent. The costume was achievable, and she felt confident that it would make an impression. The bat-like cloak took only a few minutes. The staff didn't take much longer; for authenticity's sake she transfigured a marble and a tree branch. Hermione hefted it in one hand, and was satisfied. It would be practically useless for directing and channelling magic, but as a prop, it did the job very nicely. She chose a simple black dress to wear underneath her cloak. Nothing too flashy. She wasn't planning to take the cloak off anyway.

She had wanted to give herself something a bit more impressive. With enough notice, she could have given herself dragon wings. Any possible substitutes seemed inadequate by comparison. She could do a partial transfiguration into a bird, of course, but scales were always tricky. She didn't want to moult in front of the whole school. She thought about creating an illusion, but that felt somehow like cheating.

The basics done, she moved to the finishing touches. So she spent an hour in front of the mirror instead. Every now and then she'd give her wand a little flick.

Hermione's reflection grinned back at her. She looked terrifying. Her eyes were a shining, catlike yellow. A pair of curving horns arched up from her head. When combined with the heels she was planning on wearing, they would give her some much needed height. Hermione gave the tips an experimental prod and found they were sharp to the touch. Taming her hair enough to fit under a black cap took a lot of wrangling and two bottles of Sleekeazys, but she was happy with the result. It only made her horns more prominent. Her skin was a queasy green.

And yet, she thought, she looked quite beautiful.

All Hallow's came, and the grey, blustery sky fulfilled its promise. A tempest raged outside the castle walls. All the windows had been shut and their charms raised, but even so, when Hermione walked through the castle, she could still hear the thunder and the wailing of the wind. She didn't mind it. It only made her heart race, and besides, it was just perfect for tonight.

As she walked through the open doorway and into the Great Hall, the first things that hit her were the noise and the smells. The feast was already in full swing, obviously.

Even by the standards of Hogwarts, the Great Hall had been totally transformed.

The ceiling was enchanted to look as though they were standing underneath a canopy of skeletal trees. Between the branches, Hermione could see the silhouette of the moon. The room was bathed in her pale light. The gentle light was interrupted by occasional harsh flashes of lightning that lit the sky. The effect was eerie, and very beautiful.

A feast had been laid out, though the tables were pushed along the walls to make a great empty space for dancing. The feast was made overwhelmingly of pumpkin related foods, though there were great bowls of softly glowing eyes and students had to wrangle their cutlery from severed hands that crept along the tables. Slytherins snapped ribs from a row of crystalline sugar skeletons standing against the walls.

There was a band playing on a stage that had been magicked up in one corner of the hall. She had never heard of them, but the students seemed very excited and gathered around the stage. Their instruments were a mixture of pipes, violins, and enchanted guitars. They were making an incredible racket; screeching and thunderous, yet vaguely haunting. Hermione loved it, but she wished Minerva had gone with something a little more… traditional. Hermione wanted to dance. That was the whole point of a ball, wasn't it?

No-one was dancing yet, though. No-one could, until the winners were announced. So instead, students and staff members alike milled around the tables and ate, or talked to one another. It should have felt subdued, but it didn't. It felt new. Exciting. People were already pointing and giggling at one another.

A few of the students drew back from her. This only made her smile broadly, and then they recognised her and laughed weakly. She didn't mind. She knew she looked quite the sight. Some of them, the muggleborns, pointed at her and called her Maleficent.

As far as the costumes went, the students had gone to great lengths to showcase their talent and creativity. They came dressed as centaurs and mermaids, Veela and vampires, and things that were stranger still. The costumes weren't very good if you looked too close. This had been somewhat last-minute, after all, and most of the costumes were home made. One of them had actually covered himself in loo roll in a pretty uninspired attempt to turn himself into a mummy. The older and more talented students had bolstered their appearances with a few charms and transfigurations. A student with no head and a transparent leg walked around; a botched but nonetheless interesting take on an Ethereal Charm.

Madame Pomfrey was chatting happily to Grubbly-Plank while a gaggle of adoring Hufflepuffs looked on. The Infirmary witch was dressed in a silver dress with a corset and a hooped skirt. She'd spun her grey hair up in a many-tiered, wispy arrangement. Hermione craned her neck and saw that she had little wings fixed on her back. The Fairy Godmother.

Shortly after her, Tiberius made his entrance grandly. She hadn't known what to expect, but this wasn't it. The tall Ravenclaw wore a scarlet red overcoat trimmed with gold. Black leather boots came up to his thighs, and upon his head sat a large red hat, topped with an equally large feather. A sword was belted at his side, and he wore a silver glove on one hand. His hair was a silly-looking dark wig, with curled hair.

A pirate, obviously, but not any old pirate. Tiberius had come as Captain Hook.

"You look fantastic, Tiberius." And he did. Tiberius' tall, slender frame lent itself to the costume very well. He'd even gotten to keep his mustache.

"Why thank you, Professor Granger. Your own costume is quite… striking. Are you a Succubus from the Infernal Tomes?"

"No. I'm Maleficent." Although now he mentioned it, the resemblance was startling.

Tiberius obviously had no idea who she was, but he didn't ask anything further. He was too distracted by everything else going on around him.

"Tiberius," Hermione said, worry in her voice as she studied him, "is that a real sword?"

"As a matter of fact, it is! This is my great-great grandfather's sword." Excited, he drew it with a flourish. The sound of rasping steel was loud, and when the torchlight struck it, pearlescent arcs seemed to radiate from it. A trick of the light, or-?

"Tiberius, honestly, put that away before McGonagall- Oh my god, is that a Charm Killer?" Hermione gasped and drew away, but her hands reached out towards it. Fascinated and horrified.

Tiberius didn't share her wonder, only shrugging and saying, "I believe so. I seem to remember something about that in the old stories my grandfather used to tell me. I thought it went well with the costume." Then he made a startled noise and said, "I say- Professor!"

Hermione had taken the sword from him without a word and was cradling it like a child in her arms. Her admiration was such that she couldn't contain it; her love and admiration poured from her in a series of ever increasing compliments that made Tiberius grow redder and redder.

"The scabbard, is it original? Does it have the maker's mark on it? It must be Goblin work. How on earth did you keep them from reclaiming it after the War? Unless it's Fairy made… Tiberius, a piece like this is absolutely priceless."

She was so fixated on the sword that she almost missed Lucius Malfoy's entrance. Almost. But her eyes were drawn to him by a flash of colour that was gone as soon as she'd noticed it.

Lucius was garbed in exquisite grey wizarding robes that accentuated a broad build usually kept hidden under layers of black. Even at this distance, she could see emerald flashing on his fingers. He wore his hair differently than usual. It flowed down one shoulder, ending in a plait. It softened his face, gave him vibrancy. Aside from that, though, he was… normal.

A small part of her was disappointed. She had been hoping to see Lucius dressed up. But it didn't make a difference to her what he wore and anyway, Minerva had never said that wearing a costume was compulsory.

On his way to the staff table, Lucius walked beneath a moonbeam and the light set his hair ablaze in a riot of gold and green, and Hermione forgot all about the sword.

Entwined in his platinum hair was an intricate headpiece of precious metal and gemstones. Obviously antique, all powerful lines and gold leaf around clusters of emeralds sweeping down from the crown of his head. Some were as small as the head of a pin, though some were as large as pigeon eggs. It was elegant yet masculine, and suited him perfectly.

The Potions Professor still hadn't seen her. That was probably a good thing, because she had been staring.

Lucius Malfoy hadn't come dressed up as anything other than himself, but he was still far from ordinary.

The evening carried on, but Minerva still hadn't announced the winners. Hermione had passed the time with as much eating as she felt she could get away with, talking to the students and other faculty members, and taking note of all the best magic around her.

She couldn't help but notice that Lucius Malfoy was watching her from his seat at the table. He kept looking at her outfit, frowning, and glancing away. The Slytherin seemed deeply troubled. He wasn't being subtle about it, either. He stared at her horns for so long he almost squinted.

Amused and curious, Hermione caught his eyes and nodded to the empty space beside her, and he made his way over.

He sat next to her. This close, the light of his headpiece was almost blinding.

"Professor Malfoy. Why were you staring at me like that?" She refused to feel like a hypocrite.

He gave a quiet little sigh, as though defeated. "I do not know her. I apologise."

"Excuse me?"

"The witch you are dressed as. I am embarrassed to admit it. You say she is a famous witch, but I do not know her."

"Oh-!" Hermione considered, briefly, telling him the truth. But then she decided, why not have a bit of fun instead? "That's a shame. She was really gifted."

"Then my ignorance is more profound than I had believed. Enlighten me. What were her particular skills? You called her Maleficent, I believe. Was that meant to describe her, or was it actually her name?"

"It is both, though it is most commonly known as her name. As for her skills, she was good at a lot of things, but Transfiguration was what she was best at. She could take the form of a storm, or even a dragon."

Lucius was deeply impressed. "Remarkable-! I had not believed such things were possible. I take it she is a particular favourite of yours. An inspiration, perhaps?"

Hermione was starting to wonder just how far she could take this. He just seemed so… earnest. So genuinely interested.

"Not really. Only in what she achieved."

"Ah. Then I may assume she strayed into less reputable behaviour."

"Erm-" Cursing a young woman into a coma out of self-preservation? Then trying to murder her and her boyfriend? "You could say that."

He didn't seem bothered by this, but then, she supposed, that only made sense. "It is a fine costume nonetheless."

She was giving serious consideration to confessing the truth when a wave of laughter and cheers rippled through the room, and Hermione, like many of the other teachers, stood up to locate the source.

A red and gold dragon gambolled into the Great Hall.

It was a dragon made of tissue paper and poles that walked on three pairs of legs, but it was a dragon nonetheless. It had wings, though they were held up with some difficulty by the student in the middle of the costume. It's scarlet head swung this way and that. It's head snuffed out a Slytherin, bent over in a gag of revulsion and the students only laughed harder. The Slytherin in question swatted the dragon, and it went on.

It was perhaps the least scary, least realistic representation of a dragon that Hermione had ever seen. The legs tried to walk in different directions at times and the wings were a complete mess. When the student in the middle didn't have his arms at the perfect angle, they would dip and drag along the floor, causing more than one student to trip over them.

Hermione groaned aloud. She just knew that there were Gryffindors underneath that costume.

After all the stragglers had finally appeared, Minerva finally announced the winners of the contest. The Hall went completely silent in anticipation, and Hermione had to stop herself from bouncing up and down in her chair.

"And the winners for the best dressed students are… Mr Thomas, Mr Chen and Mr Tregale for the boys!" The aforementioned boys bellowed and cheered in a way that made Hermione sigh. "And for the ladies, Miss Zeidane, for her lovely constellation costume. It seems that next year I will have to specifically ban students getting into a costume altogether. Since the three of you must think yourselves terribly clever, you won't have any problems remaining in your costume for the dance with Miss Zeidane."

The boys just let out another cheer at this. Apparently, they'd have it no other way.

"And for the Witches and Wizards… The title of Best Dressed Wizard goes to Professor Flint, for his marauder costume. Next time, please refrain from bringing a real sword. And for Best Dressed Witch…" Minerva paused, letting the anticipation build for just a moment before announcing, "Madame Pomfrey!"

The bitter tang of disappointment flooded her and she couldn't help but screw up her face. She had so wanted to win. But Pomfrey did look wonderful. The students cheered, the winners looked proud, and Hermione tried very hard not to look too jealous.

At Minerva's signal, the winners all went and stood up together in the suddenly empty center of the room.

Miss Zeidane, a Ravenclaw seventh year commonly acknowledged as the prettiest girl in school, stood about half a head taller than the dragon. She wore loose, voluminous robes of black velvet embroidered with a silvery star-map. Her face and hands were painted with similar designs. Her left eye was a blazing orange, her left a black vortex. She had apparently come as… creation itself? She looked absolutely incredible.

Hermione was very, very impressed with those Charms, and made a note to ask her about them later. It was hard to tell from a distance, but it looked as if the stars on her face and hands were moving.

Opposite her stood the Gryffindor dragon. Hermione looked at her students in a state of real anxiety. Please do not embarrass me. The whole school is watching. This is the first time this ball has been held in forty years.

There was a real chance that this might end well. The boys had obviously put a lot of work into their costume. They would have planned something for if they won, wouldn't they?

Wouldn't they?

The band put away their guitars and began something that sort of resembled classical music, only with a great deal more banging.

Tiberius bowed very low to Madame Pomfrey, who loudly said that she was too old for that, and nodded her head in return. Tiberius said something to the Infirmary Witch. Hermione couldn't hear the exact words, but judging by his posture, it must have been something very gallant. Madame Pomfrey laughed, obviously used to the Arithmancy Professor's odd ways.

Hermione's eyes fixed themselves on the Gryffindor dragon again. The boys were standing completely still. Hermione could almost hear their brain cells rubbing together. Please, please just for once, can Gryffindor boys not do something completely stupid?

Tiberius and Pomfrey started to move through a very slow waltz. The difference between the two of them as dance partners was so startling that some of the students giggled. Hermione shut them up with a glare. Tiberius was a man in the prime of his life, and quite handsome, but he seemed really proud to stand up with Madame Pomfrey. As for Madame Pomfrey, she was smiling as she twirled in her shining dress.

Meanwhile, Miss Zeidane stood watching the dragon, waiting to see what the Gryffindors would do.

At last, the boys looked at one another and grinned. Then the head started zig-zagging back and forth as fast as he could. The back end jumped up and down while whooping. The boy in charge of the wings started flapping his arms very, very hard.

Hermione let her head fall into her hands. Could have been a Ravenclaw, but oh no, the Hat just had to sort me into Gryffindor, didn't it-?

But the Ravenclaw girl didn't seem to mind. In fact, she clapped her hands together and giggled. Dancing with the dragon in a normal way was impossible, so instead she danced around him, skipping and jumping.

Only a minute or so later, the boy at the head of the dragon reached up, yanked off the head and yelled, "Merlin's baggy y front pants, it's hot in here!"

The crowd laughed and cheered. Thus encouraged, the dragon mustered enough strength to last a while longer. Miss Zeidane was laughing so hard that she staggered as she went round and round the dragon. Still, her eyes were shining.

They're having a wonderful time, Hermione realised. She'd been at Hogwarts for two months, and the students had come so far.

Dumbledore would have loved this, Hermione realised with a small amount of grief. Time had mostly healed that wound, but she couldn't help herself from wondering what the old wizard would have dressed himself as. Something audacious yet classy, she mused.

But there was joy, too. Dumbledore would have been proud of them all.

At last, the first dance came to an end. Hermione hadn't realised that she'd jumped to her feet and started clapping until the two couples stood still. The dragon collapsed, panting and heaving, as Madame Pomfrey checked the boys over with her wand. She didn't seem overly concerned.

All around her, people were leaping out of their seats to flood the dance floor.

Lucius turned to her and said, "Well, Professor Granger, it would seem that we are the losers. Even so, I would very much like to dance with you, if you will agree."

She'd been wanting to dance all night, and dancing with him… she had to admit, she was curious. Lucius Malfoy was a pretty decent Quidditch coach, and quite a good teacher, as far as she could tell. He was a good conversationalist. But could he dance?

"Did you have anything in mind?" She asked, by way of answer.

Pleased, he said generously, "Ladies choice, of course."

Hermione thought about it.

Dancing had made her nervous when she'd been a young girl, in that it was really a social exercise masquerading as a physical one. But she hated being bad at something, so she'd gone to great lengths to learn how it was done. If she ever found herself in a situation where she might be expected to dance, she refused to be shown up. The more she'd practiced, the more she'd discovered that dancing could be a lot of fun, particularly if you had a good partner. She had a feeling that Lucius Malfoy would be a good dancer. He wouldn't have offered if he thought he'd embarrass himself.

The tempo of the music didn't match anything she liked; it had been planned with the children in mind, so it was fast and riotous.

In the end, she decided to go for the most obvious choice.

"The Walpurgan Waltz."

It was a dance known only to witches and wizards. Traditionally danced on Halloween, it also happened to be her favourite dance. She'd never danced it properly, of course, but that didn't matter.

She almost expected him to complain. That he might find it a boring choice. But instead, he merely raised an eyebrow in surprise, nodded, and stood.

They didn't have to speak. There was no room for improvisation or flair with the Walpurgan. You either danced it correctly or you didn't dance it at all. That's what Hermione liked so much about it. Every movement, from beginning to end, was laid out in exact detail. It was like an equation.

They stood opposite one another. Around them, the students ebbed away to give them space. Their surprise at seeing the two of them stand up together would have been almost comical to behold, if Hermione had been looking at them. She wasn't.

She tried very hard not to think about all the people standing around them. About the fact that Minerva McGonagall would surely be watching them.

He bowed to her. She curtseyed, spreading the shadow of her cloak behind her. Oh, that's just lovely. Suddenly, she saw the appeal. He saw, smirked and reached out a hand to her, signalling that he was ready to begin. So was she.

They stepped towards one another, and then apart. Every step, every turn of their heads, was a matter of mathematical precision. They came together again, and he ghosted a hand over her lower back. He did not touch her.

It was slow, at first. Their movements were dignified, almost stately as they circled one another. She pivoted on her feet, as did he, and they drew closer and closer together, first this way, then that, until they were almost within reach...

He was always right where he should be. Her hand fluttered above his heart for a moment. She could not see his face; they always looked in opposite directions. She didn't notice that everyone else had stopped dancing to stare at them, that the band had stopped making their racket in favor of something more medieval, that even the enchanted moon hanging above them seemed to be watching…

His grace was unthinking, natural. Hers was the result of hard work and talent. It didn't matter. They ebbed and flowed together. They came close enough that she felt his breath huff against her hair and finally, they were permitted to look at one another. The shock of it almost knocked her out of her rhythm. Did he feel the same?

As the dance went on it became more and more complex and drove them faster and faster, until the moments where it was a waltz at all finally vanished altogether. Hermione had to bend the whole of her will to maintain the clear, cool composure the dance required.

Could everyone hear her heart beating? Surely they could. What had possessed her to suggest this dance? And what had possessed him to agree?

They had both gone mad. Beautifully, wonderfully mad, and they spun on and on, the fingers of their hands almost touching, his face was a mask but his eyes burned...

She was dancing with such speed now that her cloak was snapping behind her, and he pulled back as if struck. The balance shifted, the dance was in her favour, but hadn't it always been? The time had come for her to be the pursuer.

He retreated, but his steps were staggered in such a way that she could only catch him- he was under an enchantment… the dance was magic. She twisted, leaping. She flung out a hand to him, he had no choice, he fell to her, conquered, she seized him by the throat-

His pulse thrummed beneath her fingers, his pale eyes were wide-

He was hers.

They froze.

And just like that, it was over.

There was a stunned silence, and then the school erupted into a feet-thumping, howling applause.

Hermione Granger pulled away. She pressed a hand to her chest, letting her breath come ragged at last.

Lucius Malfoy bowed low to her, and she responded just in time. She was smiling giddily.

A castle Elf came to rescue them with a tray of pumpkin juice. Hermione sagged with relief and Lucius caught up a goblet to extend it to her. She drained it in one gulp.

The spectacle over, the students around them remembered that they were way too cool to be interested in any stupid dance the grown-ups liked, anyway, and went back to their own festivities. Lucius and Hermione were no longer important, and became only a witch and a wizard in the crowd.

That was just what she needed, just now. Hermione took the opportunity to vanish her horns and cap and magic her hair into a neat coil at the nape of her neck. She should have done it before they'd started; she probably could have gored him with the things and never even noticed.

"You are an excellent dancer." Lucius said, as soon as he'd caught his breath. He sounded surprised.

Hermione was a little offended by that. Why did people always assume she would be rubbish at dancing, just because she liked to read? Was it a rule?

"Why would you assume I wouldn't be?"

"I meant no offence, but you are an inventor and an academic. I had not imagined you would find much use or time for dancing."

As he said this, he looked down and saw this cup was empty. Without thinking, she vanished it along with her own, and he smiled. He cocked an eyebrow in silent invitation and she nodded, and they drew near one another and danced again.

By necessity, this one was slow. Back, forward, to the sides. And over and over. A child could have done it, but neither of them cared. They only wanted to create a situation where they might keep talking, undisturbed.

Hermione pointed out, "Professor Flint is an inventor and an academic, but he can still dance."

At the mention of his friend, Lucius grew gentle. "Tiberius is a Manor-raised Pureblood. He was dancing before he could cast spells."

"There are books on dancing."

Lucius smiled knowingly. "One cannot really learn to dance from books. You will not convince me that you learned to dance like that from a library, Hermione Granger."

"And if the books are enchanted with moving pictures, which most modern magical books are?"

"A fair point."

"I have to admit, though…" Hermione chewed her lip, and hesitated. He urged her on, and finally she finished, "That dance is a bit different on paper."

"Still, it was superb." He said warmly. "I only wish we'd done it at Durmstrang; if we had, half the room would have stood up with us."

This was not the right thing to say. If there was anything that could make Hermione defensive, it was any sort of insinuation that any school could possibly be better than Hogwarts. She didn't let herself dwell on it, but the idea that he might even think about going to another wizarding school was… irritating. He belonged here.

"If you prefer it at Durmstrang, you should go teach there."

"But why would I, when the company here is so good?" Lucius asked. He grew sober and added, "I mean no offence, Professor Granger. I only meant that the dance is more popular there. It has been many years since I have seen it danced in England, let alone had the pleasure of dancing it myself."

She tried to remind herself that Lucius Malfoy was, in his own way, probably just trying to make conversation. It wasn't his fault he could come across as a little… well, a little dismissive. She had been accused of being dismissive herself, in the past.

"I didn't realise the Walpurgan waltz could be danced with other people." She said, moderating her tone.

"It was designed for it. In its heyday, twenty wizarding couples would get up and dance together."

Hermione frowned. She couldn't imagine that. It was better that they had danced it by themselves.

By the time other faculty members joined them on the dancefloor, Hermione had regained her former calm. Tiberius and Trelawney lanced through the crowd in an impeccable foxtrot. Neville was earnestly taking instructions on muggle dancing from a group of students. Hermione was glad to see the Herbology Professor relax. Hannah was almost ready to have their baby, and Neville had been very nervous, lately.

One thing puzzled her, though.

After a perfectly executed spin, Hermione stated, "You surprised me, tonight."

Lucius looked at her curiously as they spun across the floor together. "Oh?"

"You take a lot of pride in your appearance, but you didn't dress up." She didn't mention the head piece. Letting him know how much she'd admired it didn't seem wise, for some reason. "Why is that? I would've thought you'd jump at the chance."

Lucius seemed flattered, but it didn't last for long. He became serious and said, "The things that frighten me, Professor Granger, are not appropriate for a school event. And many of the costumes my colleagues and students deem acceptable, I would not wear. I fail to see the fun in dressing up as a merman, or a vampire. They are our magical brethren. To ridicule them for the sake of a party plays to the worst part of our instincts. They are not monsters."

Hermione was torn between agreeing and questioning him further. She knew what Voldemort had planned for non-witches and wizards, and not just the muggles, no matter what he wanted his temporary allies to believe.

"You really have changed." She said, not realising she'd said it aloud.

Lucius laughed, and she went bright red. "That, of all things, is what convinced you?"

"That, and a few other things." She said lightly.

Hermione noticed Sinastra calling her over, and turned to Lucius with a pang of regret. "Do you mind-?"

Graciously, he said, "Not at all. Thank you, Hermione. It has been… a rare pleasure."

He bowed to her again, and she curtseyed, and they went their separate ways.

At some point in the evening, Hermione managed to get Daniel Rosier alone (mostly) for a few minutes. He only had about eight of his fellow Housemates with him, which for a Slytherin, meant he was practically isolated.

Scrambling for some vaguely natural way to ask him the question that she wanted to ask, she began, "So, Mr Rosier, how are your studies progressing?"

Daniel Rosier took one look at her face and said, "Professor Malfoy already talked to me, Professor Granger. If you're serious about wanting me there, I'll join your Charms NEWTs class."

"Really? That's wonderful!" A smile lit on Hermione's face that threatened to make her cheeks sore. Daniel was going to excel.

"Professor Granger, I wanted to say- well, thanks. For letting me join the class. I'm really looking forward to it-"

Too excited to really hear him, Hermione rushed on, "We'll set up a meeting to go over your revised lesson plan, I've drawn one up already, are you free tomorrow morning?"

Daniel Rosier froze. "Revised-? What?"

"You've already missed the first two months of term." Hermione explained kindly. "You're going to have to catch up on all the essays and classwork if you're going to reach your full potential, Mr Rosier."

Daniel cast a look of horror around at his friends, who were all sniggering at him.

Hermione saw, but didn't understand. She tried to soothe him, "Don't worry, I've got it all sorted out! I've even taken your extracurricular activities into account. You'll have plenty of time! You'll even have an hour of free time or so every week!"

Unseen, Lucius Malfoy appeared behind Hermione's shoulder and, using only his eyes, explicitly communicated to Daniel Rosier that he would take the class, and that was that.

Daniel gave one beseeching look at his Head of House, who didn't budge an inch. Finally, Daniel sighed and said, "Thank you, Professor Granger."

"You're welcome, Mr Rosier!" Hermione beamed, and then spotted Miss Zeidane, "Oh gosh, sorry, got to go- see you in the morning, nine o'clock in my office!"

Miss Zeidane was more than happy to answer her questions. The Ravenclaw's sun-and-black hole effect turned out to be an illusion spun mere millimetres over her real eyes. When Hermione inspected them up close, she could see a faint curve, just as real eyes had. Miss Zeidane had cast the illusion millimetre by millimetre and enchanted the inside so she could retain her sight. The clever things even followed every turn of her head. Hermione thought it was some of the best Charmswork she'd ever seen a student perform. Simple, elegant, and done with a fine attention to detail.

Long after the Great Hall had started emptying, Hermione and a few other staff members and students remained, talking to one another. At some point, they all sat down together in a loose circle.

The students were old enough, so the castle Elves bought drinks for them as well as the faculty. Thinking of the Head Club, Hermione chose a sherry for herself and they all sat and drank together, and talked about their studies.

It was like a seminar, almost. The students had told her all about how their plans were going. Like every generation of OWLs and NEWTs students that had gone before them, they were torn between worrying themselves sick and feeling proud of their abilities and their knowledge. They talked about the magic they were working on. The essays they were having trouble with. They asked her, with varying degrees of subtlety, what she thought their exams would be like. These would be her first year as a Professor and they seemed to be a bit worried that she would be strict.

Hogwarts exams were no longer written by the Ministry's education department. One of Minerva's many concessions for the school after the War (and Umbridge) was that Hogwarts had a lot more authority over the examination process. They now wrote the exam questions, and then sent them off to the Ministry for marking.

Of course, Hermione dodged their questions, only telling them that if they studied, they would do well and if they didn't study, they would probably do badly. This was not very well received, and the students tried (half-heartedly) to change her mind. She offered them more quizzes to help them gauge their capabilities, and they stopped asking.

Ron would have called them swots. Hermione called them hardworking, ambitious, and determined.

And through it all, Hermione just couldn't stop smiling. This is what she had become a teacher for. This talent in this room alone… did the other teachers realise the potential of this year's crop of students? Did the students themselves realise what they were capable of? She would show them. With practice, with confidence, these could be some of the most promising students Hogwarts had ever seen.

Lucius sat to her left for the rest of the evening. It seemed only natural that he should. They had a lot to say to one another tonight, and it didn't make sense for them to be far apart.

A new Charmswork shop had just opened up in Diagon Alley. Some of her inventions had been displayed in the shop windows on opening day, he'd heard. Had she been to the shop yet? Had she read Luna's new book? What did she think of it? Did she think Minerva would hold a Yule Ball this year? If so, would she attend?

Lucius was a constant source of conversation, and the night grew very late before she even noticed.

By the time Hermione got to bed, it was four o'clock in the morning.

She hadn't wanted it to end.

Oooof, that took a lot of work! We worked our butts off with this one!

Do you know that with this chapter, the fic is now over 40k long? 40k used to be what I considered a 'long' fic when I first started reading fanfiction, so for me personally this is a huge milestone!

I love to read your comments. I think I have some of the best readers of any Lumione I've read, just saying. It's so motivating to read your thoughts and theories!

If next chapter is a bit later than usual, I apologise in advance. These next two chapters are not as complete as I would like, so it may take some time!

Until then, thank you very much for reading and I'll see you next time!