CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Summary: Hermione suffers a terrible attack and who should find her but one of Wizarding Britain's most eligible bachelors. The relationship that builds between them is one no one saw coming, but no one predicted the danger that would surely follow. Post-War. Rated M for a reason.
Disclaimer: I do not own canon events or characters, they belong to J.K Rowling. I am not making a profit from this fanfic, everything is purely for entertainment purposes.
Page count: 8
Wood Estate – Thursday 24th December 1998
After returning to the manor and eating dinner together, she and Oliver had parted ways to their respective bedrooms to ready for the ball. Knowing that she had plenty of time, she'd had a shower, washed her hair and went about cleaning herself, before having a relaxing bubble bath filled with her favourite scented oils and a Calming Draught, knowing she was going to need it to get through the night. Even with having Oliver with her, there was going to be a hell of a lot of people present at the ball and she worried that something might trigger another memory or a panic attack, and for that reason she added a second Calming Draught to the water.
Once she'd stepped out of the bath and dried herself off, she quickly dressed in her ball gown, applied a little bit of makeup and fixed her hair, and now Hermione was stood in front of the mirror in her bathroom, staring at herself and being pleasantly surprised by her appearance.
The gown truly was beautiful but seeing as Narcissa Malfoy had been the one to gift it to her, nothing less was expected. Knowing that woman, Hermione actually suspected that the gown had been hand made specifically for her, after all, it fit perfectly to her frame and it wouldn't have been difficult for the older woman to cast a few Measurement Charms on her without her noticing.
The gown, it was perfect for a Christmas ball, she thought. The material was soft and light, and a snowy white colour. It appeared plain at first but when the light caught it, you could see flecks of sparkle, as if it had been made of glitter. If you were close enough, you could see that while the fitted bodice was plain, the skirt was far from it. The skirt was made in such a way that it looked to have been made from thousands and thousands of snowflakes, as it flared out at the hips slightly and then fell to the floor.
The dress itself was off the shoulder with lace detailing for the straps, showing off her neck and collar bones. Feeling self-conscious, she'd made sure to glamour her visible scars and she'd covered her 'Mudblood' scar with makeup, casting a charm over the top to ensure it didn't wipe off or stain her dress.
With a few spells, she was able to get her curls to fall more smoothly than normal and she'd pinned it back from her face in a half-up half-down sort of style, the curls falling down to the middle of her back. Her makeup she'd kept simple, just a little mascara to lengthen and darken her lashes, and a red lip stain, standing out against her pale skin, perfectly outlining the shape of her mouth and making her teeth look even whiter than they already were.
Her jewellery had come with the dress, a pair of silver dangle earrings with small snowflakes, the matching choker necklace fastened securely around her neck and the snowflake pendent resting just below her throat, a silver bracelet which looked to have been made entirely from snowflakes, too, and finally, a small, silver tiara.
She hadn't wanted to wear it, thinking it would be be too gaudy, but she knew Narcissa would be upset if she didn't and she was a little bit curious to see what it would look like, so she placed it on her head, surprised to see that it seemed to be the finishing touch she'd felt was missing.
With no more time to waste, she picked up the white mask that would cover her cheeks, partially her nose and surround her eyes, before turning and leaving the bathroom, being glad she'd remembered to cast the Balancing and Cushioning Charms on her strappy heels.
Her footsteps echoed throughout the manor as she walked down the hallway and into the living room, seeing Oliver stood with his back to her and by the bar, looking down at the tumbler of fire whiskey in his hand.
From her place she was surprised to see that he hadn't opted for traditional or dress robes, instead he'd gone down the muggle route and was wearing black dress shoes, a white shirt, a black tuxedo and a black bow tie. He had what looked to be a mask similar in style to hers, only it was all black. She knew muggle fashion was slowly making its way into the Wizarding World, particularly the casual and party wear, but she hadn't expected him to opt for the muggle tux, though she did admit, he looked devastatingly handsome, and that was with his back to her.
Apparently noticing her presence, he turned to look at her with a smile on his face before it suddenly dropped; his eyes widening, his mouth parting and his breathing stopping altogether as he caught sight of her.
In his mind, he thought he'd never seen someone so beautiful; her dress fitting her perfectly and suiting her well. Her jewellery matching and sparking in the light, much like her dress. And her mask, fitting to the shape of her face and making her eyes look even bigger. The silver, glittery accents of the mask matched the tiara that sat on top of her head, and her curls flowed down her back.
She looked like some sort of princess. His eyes caught sight of the snowflakes on her jewellery and then he noticed the snowflake pattern of her dress, too. Winter. She looked like the Princess of Winter.
Complete, utterly, and heartbreakingly beautiful.
She shuffled on her feet and nibbled at her lip nervously, his eyes zeroed in on the action before his shook his head, reminding himself to pull himself together and to breathe lest he pass out.
He took a deep breath and placed his tumble on the bar behind him before slowly approaching her, stopping in front of her and with her heels, she was closer to his height than usual, but he was still taller than her.
"Hermione..." He breathed out, still taking in her beautiful appearance. "Ye look stunning. Absolutely stunning."
Even under her mask he saw her cheeks flame red and he realised that he liked that he could make her blush.
"Thank you, you like quite dashing yourself," she replied, her voice a little breathier than usual and she reached up to straighten out his bow tie for him.
"Shall we get going?"
He nodded eagerly, offering her his arm and she hooked hers through his before heading to the fireplace. Given she had access to Malfoy Manor through the floo network, they'd both decided to skip the initial waiting in line to go through security. There were very few people The Malfoys trusted to allow access to their home, and so it wouldn't be a problem if they skipped going through security anyway. They stepped into the fireplace and Hermione called out the address.
Malfoy Manor
They stepped out into Malfoy Manor and after brushing the soot from their clothing, Oliver allowed Hermione to lead the way since she obviously knew where she was going. As they walked through the halls and they neared their destination, the sound of an orchestra grew louder and louder, until they came to the open doors which showcased the large ballroom.
It was complete with large, beautiful chandeliers, extravagant directions of silk and satin swatches, floating candles and fairies, and the ceiling was enchanted for snow to fall, but never touching the occupants of the room. The ballroom itself looked to be larger than the great hall at Hogwarts and it was filled with more people than either of them could count. Some were stood off in little groups chatting and conversing amongst each other, some were on the dance floor, twirling and swaying to the beautiful melody, and others were sat at the tables around the room, drinking wine and champagne and eating finger-foods, which were being carried around on trays by house-elves dressed in black and white attire.
It was definitely a Malfoy party.
"There's so many people," Hermione said quietly, but he'd heard her still.
"A'll be with ye all night, even if we get separated a'll still be in the same room an' a won't be far away," he said softly. "If at any point ye feel uncomfortable we'll head home where we can argue over who's cheatin' at poker." A smile pulled at her mouth. "Deal?"
She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Deal," she agreed.
"Good, shall we?"
"We shall, we'll have to greet Narcissa and Lucius first, but otherwise we're free to do as we please."
With his left hand he held her hand gently in his, and his right hand was pressed against the small of her back, guiding her forward and into the ballroom, both of them noticing that they received a few curious glances but no one approached them. It would be easy for him to blend in, but with Hermione looking like a Snow Queen and her beauty being so captivating, she stuck out like a sore thumb.
It wasn't hard to find the elder Malfoys, seeing as Lucius' hair was a dead give away, and they both approached them, Narcissa Malfoy gasping in delight when she spotted Hermione nearing.
"My Goodness, you look more beautiful in that gown than I imagined you would," she complimented.
Hermione smiled shyly, stepping away from Oliver and dropping his hand to give the older woman a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Thank you, and as I said, you look stunning and no one compares to you," Hermione said, looking over her dark green robes and the matching mask with silver, glittery accents and her dark hair in an elegant bun.
Narcissa laughed lightly. "You are too kind."
Lucius stepped forward and took her hand in his, bowing over it and placing a kiss to her knuckles.
"You look lovely, My Dear," he said softly, standing up straight and giving her a smile. She smiled in return, eyeing his immaculate black dress robes and his mask that matched Narcissa's, his hair being left to hang down over his shoulders. "And who do we have here?" He asked, pointedly looking at Oliver who stood a little ways behind her.
She looked over her shoulder and they both shared a slightly worried glance. They hadn't thought of how they would introduce him yet. They could change his name, but his accent was a dead giveaway; anyone who had heard him speak before might be able to recognise him for who he was.
Hermione turned back to look at the elder Malfoys and they both raised questioning eyebrows when she bit her lip and shuffled on her feet. "Well, we don't want to give you his actual name, if it got back to the wrong people it could be disastrous."
"I presume you are referring to Mr. Weasley," Narcissa spoke, a tone of dislike in her voice.
"Yes," Hermione lied. "So, we'll just say this is James Jones," she spoke, feeling Oliver step closer to her side and he looked at her amused for the name she'd given him. "They're very common names," she explained with a shrug.
The amusement didn't leave his eyes but he did turn his attention to the elder Malfoys, both of them looking at him appraisingly.
"It's a pleasure tae meet ye, Mrs. Malfoy," he spoke, accepting her hand in his and bowing over it, but not kissing it as he was not a relative or an acquaintance of the family, as was tradition. They both raised eyebrows at his clear Scottish accent, but didn't comment on it.
"And you as well, Mr. Jones," she said, giving him a polite smile when he pulled back from her.
He then shook Lucius' hand, feeling himself wince slightly when the elder man squeezed harder than what was considered appropriate, and Oliver wasn't blind to the protective look that flashed through the older wizard's eyes when he looked between him and Hermione. He slipped his slightly aching hand to the small of Hermione's back, flexing his fingers in hopes it would help to reduce the pain.
"Where's Draco? He hasn't called for my services in the last few days, I'm almost worried," Hermione spoke, breaking the staring match between the two wizards.
Narcissa smiled. "I believe he is greeting the guests as they arrive and will join us shortly."
Hermione nodded and smiled. "Well, I suppose it would be impolite of us not to mingle, so we'll leave you to your devices."
They shared nods and promises to speak again, before Oliver offered her his arm and they stepped away to join the party.
They'd been at The Malfoy's Christmas Eve ball for several hours now and in the time that had passed, they'd briefly spoken to some of the guests who easily recognised Hermione, but thankfully no one had seen through their lie regarding Oliver's true identity.
She'd made sure to purposely avoid coming into contact with the likes of Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, both of who still hated her as much as they had in school, despite the fact that the elder Malfoys seemed to adore her and that she had a strange friendship with Draco, which only added fuel to their hatred of her.
Hermione wasn't particularly bothered by that fact, but she didn't want to cause a scene and disrupt the evening, so she made sure that she and Oliver were as far away from those two as possible, even going so far as to duck behind a table when they walked past.
Hermione and Oliver had only had a few glasses of champagne, wishing for them to both be alert should anything occur, not that it would, but they were both aware of the dangerous circumstances surrounding Hermione. The stalkers could be someone she'd met in the past, they could be someone she knew or someone she didn't. For all they knew one of them may have been in attendance at the ball given the number of attendees, and therefore they were both cautious of those around them.
They often snuck off to sit at a table, speaking between each other quietly and nibbling at the foods the house-elves offered them. If not, Oliver had coaxed her onto the dance floor a few times and she was surprised to see he was a fantastic dancer, him explaining that he'd been forced to take lessons as a young child as was tradition within the Pureblood society.
Despite them both being cautious, Hermione found that she was actually enjoying herself; Oliver being wonderful date, keeping her distracted and entertained. He'd barely left her side, if only to use the bathroom and he'd made sure she was in conversation with Narcissa and Lucius before he'd done so.
His hand was always on the small of her back, gently guiding her through the crowds of people in the large ballroom, he was always stood beside her or behind her, almost protectively and she wasn't blind to the less than pleased looks he'd send to those that he caught staring at her. Once his hand had twitched and reached for his wand when a wizard had sent him a challenging look and a leering look towards Hermione. She'd quickly intervened and dragged him away for the situation, pulling him off to the side of the room and speaking to him quietly until he calmed down. She'd be lying if she said that his behaviour made her heart flutter and her breath to hitch.
But after being there for so long now, Hermione was beginning to tire from the interacting and conversing with others and the dancing, and both she and Oliver were due at their parents' early in the morning, meaning they both needed their sleep. With this thought in mind, they'd both agreed that it was time to call it a night and to head home.
They'd made their rounds and said their goodbyes, and Oliver headed to the toilet whilst she searched for Draco. She'd only seen him a few times during that night and no more than for a few minutes at a time as he appeared to be trying to avoid both Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, too, both of who were intent on getting their way and marrying him. He was very much against the idea.
"You are leaving, Dear?"
Hermione smiled at Narcissa as she approached her and Lucius. "Yes, I've a busy day ahead of me in the morning so I best get some sleep. Do you happen to know where Draco is?"
Narcissa smiled at her, and Hermione wasn't blind to the way Lucius seemed to look at his wife with a suspicious look on his face.
"Actually, Dear, he's was looking for you, too, why don't you wait on the balcony and I'll have a house-elf inform him that you are waiting for him?"
Hermione agreed and after hugs and kisses to the cheek were exchanged, she made her way through the crowd and to the large balcony that over looked the grounds of the manor, missing Lucius' next words.
"What are you up to, Cissy?"
Narcissa smiled innocently and kissed his cheek. "You'll see," was all she said, before walking away from her husband, leaving him staring after her.
Hermione had barely been stood on the balcony for a few minutes -being grateful that it was charmed against the cold weather- when she heard footsteps. She turned to look over her shoulder and expected to Draco, only it wasn't him, it was Oliver.
"Are ye ready tae go, Damsel?" He asked, stopping beside her and leaning against the balcony rail.
"I was just waiting for Draco, Narcissa said he would meet me here so I could say my goodbyes before we left, but it seems he's otherwise busy. Let's just go."
He offered her his arm and she slipped her arm through his, before they both headed towards the doors and back into the ballroom, only they didn't make it. They'd tried to step forward only for them to bump into an invisible barrier that wouldn't let them pass.
They both frowned, looking to each other for answers, before their eyes searched their surroundings and they looked up and saw the reason for their entrapment.
Magical mistletoe was gently floating above their heads, bobbing slightly in the air.
There was only one way to escape.