Draco Malfoy was dressed in charcoal gray with pink accents. Merlin! How he hated pink. The trouble with being engaged to Pansy Parkinson was that she knew that too. Hence why she was attending in the "Perfect Pale Pink" ballgown. She hated pink only a little less than he did. But woe to the man who angered Pansy Parkinson. Draco was certainly suffering her ire.

Pink!

Draco was at the dance early - well, earlier than Pansy, who had been going on about being fashionably late.

Just his luck, Granger was there early - in a sort of coatroom, that hadn't a coat in it. She was dressed in a pallid, pastel blue gown - with lace and frills- that Draco hated on sight. Draco chanced a glance around, before entering and closing the door. "Well, well, well, if it isn't Hermione Granger."

Hermione Granger looked up, startlement in her eyes, "Draco Malfoy." She didn't feel a need to say anything more, apparently.

"You look like a cat in a sundress. Doing no favors to the cat or the dress." Draco Malfoy said.

"Always the clothing critic, Malfoy?" Granger said, her mouth curling up in the semblance of a smile. It wasn't real, no it couldn't be real, Draco thought.

"I'm not sure what you mean?" Draco Malfoy said, pretending affront.

"Last year you said I looked like I'd stumbled out of the library." Hermione gave a sniff, dismissing him by waving her fingers towards him, "You really ought to make up your mind."

Draco Malfoy looked Hermione Granger up and down, nodding, "You looked better last year. I do believe you're the rare breed who'd look good and proper in that outfit."

"By which you mean Mud-" Hermione said, getting half the word out before Draco Malfoy's hand clapped down on her mouth.

"Don't make presumptions," Draco sneered. "I am certain your less discerning public will be astounded by your exceptional choice of attire, this year."

Hermione looked at him, and then shook her head.

"What's the phrase?" Draco Malfoy said, "Knock 'em dead." And Draco fervently wished that would literally happen. He made his disappearance, listening outside the door to a grating Romanian accent saying, "Hermioninny, you look lovely." She didn't. Draco'd said so, and Draco knew he was always right in such matters. That most people would be blinded by "she was trying to look suitable" didn't matter.

With a sigh, he strode back to the normal entrance to the Yule Ball, and waited for Pansy.

[a/n: I wanted to have Hermione and Draco discuss Pansy, but the flow was off. Draco's every bit as bullheaded as Hermione. And Hermione deserves to e dressed in something both practical and elegant, not side-hoops and frills.

Now for my rant: It disturbs me how many people write D/H as "He fell in love with her at the Yule Ball". Goddammit, he's a flippin' Slytherin. They're trained to see below the surface. If you must do a "he suddenly notices she's a girl" - do it while she's in the library. Ya know, like real boys do, peeping at tits that aren't in training bras.

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