Chapter Nine
"Hey, Hermione?" Draco questioned softly.
"Yeah, Draco?" She responded equally as quiet.
Draco paused. He knew what he wanted to ask her, of course. But he was so, so nervous. It wasn't like all the other guys were blind. They could see how beautiful Hermione was. They knew she was kind and generous.
He wouldn't be the first to ask this question, but he hoped to be the first to get a yes.
"Draco?" She prodded gently.
"Um, uh, well…you see there's this dance on Saturday," he started, feeling foolish for stuttering. In all of his sixteen years, he'd never been this nervous.
"Really?" Hermione groaned.
"What?" He mumbled self-consciously.
"Draco, I don't want to go to that dance, please, please don't ask me." She didn't want to have to tell him no.
He asked anyway.
…
Draco could admit that he hadn't taken her dismissal well, but he had a plan.
…
"Hey, Hermione?" Draco asked brightly.
"What, Draco?" Hermione snapped at him a little. She still felt wounded by his reaction two days prior. He knew she didn't dance but he'd still asked her. She had said no to Cormac McLaggen, Dean Thomas, and Harry Potter; she really didn't want to go.
But Draco was her weakness. She'd follow him to the ends of the Earth, but not to a school dance where she'd end up making a complete fool of herself. And him. Hermione immediately felt guilty when Draco flinched at her biting tone.
"I'm sorry. What is it, Draco?" Hermione sighed and looked up at him with a contrite expression.
"Would you go out with me this Saturday? Not to the dance or anything, but…somewhere special? Please?" Draco still felt awkward and unsure, and her immediate response to him made him wary.
But he had nothing to fear because as soon as he said not to the dance, Hermione's whole face lit up with her smile.
"Where do you want to go?"