A/N: For those wondering why it is Bella/Rod and not Andie/Rod because of the age switch, it's a matter of inheritance. Instead of matching eldest to eldest and having their child be the heir to both the Lestranges and Cyngus' Black line, they split it up. Bella/Rod issue would be the Lestrange heir but not Cyngus's heir; Andie/Rab issue would be Cyngus' heir but not the Lestrange heir. Andie and Rab's marriage would be matrilineal.
Chapter VIII
By Invitation Only
"Can you believe that hag Chang managed to seduce Diggory?" Pansy was saying a few chairs away. "I mean, I know he's a Hufflepuff, but that doesn't mean he has to do charity work for the Yule Ball."
"Cho's pretty enough," said Tracey, reading a magazine.
"Not even," coughed Pansy. "She's practically thinner than her broom!"
"And Diggory needs a real woman."
"Diggory needs a woman with curves. A real woman," Pansy said as if Tracey hadn't said anything.
"Someone like you," Blaise sighed from his slumped place on a nearby couch.
"Someone like me."
Hermione fought the urge to inflict pain on Pansy and threw off the image of Diggory dancing with a leech stuck on his arm.
"That's new," she said, noticing that Daphne was wearing a new, sleek bracelet.
"Oh," she flashed a small smile. "Yeah."
"It's pretty."
"Thanks. Hey, do you remember what page the table of counter-curses was on?"
"One-forty-four," Hermione said automatically.
"You!" boomed a voice over the din of the common room.
Hermione looked up. Theo Nott was stomping in, flushed and breathing deep, fists clenched. If Hermione had been the subject of his gaze, she might have been caught like a deer in the headlights, but she was not the target of his fury.
"Hello, Nott," Blaise said in a faltering calm voice. He slowly folded up his paper and stood.
"You son of a bitch," Nott spat, closing the distance in an instant. "You fucking prick." She had never seen the boy this enraged.
"Can I help you?" Blaise stuck his hands in his pockets and tilted his head.
She could see the throbbing veins in Nott's neck from across the room.
For a rich wizard, Nott packed a potent punch. Blaise probably thought Nott wouldn't assault him in the common room. He was wrong, and he left himself completely undefended. Nott's fist impacted his face dead-on and Blaise collapsed to the ground with a cry.
The screeching of chairs and unintelligible shouts went up around the common room. Nott launched a powerful kick into Blaise' ribs.
"Theodore!" Daphne screamed above the din.
Nott looked up and bared his teeth. "Taking their side, then?"
"Theo," said Draco.
"This mulatto motherfucker –"
"I don't care," Draco cut him off. "Not here. Not now."
Nott fumed for several moments. Hermione thought there would be smoke billowing out of his ears at any time. "You better keep yours on a leash, Draco," he said, finally. He turned but stopped and looked at Pansy. She was as shocked as anyone and almost fell over when Nott stepped towards her. He grabbed her and pulled her in.
Hermione cringed. It looked like he was eating her mouth.
When they separated, Pansy was breathing hard. "Come," Nott said, leading her away by her arm.
"Okay," she sighed, not even concealing her silly grin. The pair made quickly for the stairs down to the dorms.
Daphne walked over to Blaise, now kneeling and holding a pool of blood in his palm, with more drops spluttering from his nose with each breath. "Are you okay?"
Blaise peered up at her and pulled a face. "Brilliant."
"You knew what would happen," she said.
"Not entirely. Didn't think shrimpy had a bludger for an arm."
Daphne shook her head and pulled him up to his feet. "Let's get you to the infirmary."
Hermione settled back into her chair. The common room slowly returned to normal. She didn't want to do Moody's homework right now, really. She could easily do it later. And it had been a while since she and Draco had been alone. Without the company of their year-mates. She slid her chair up next to him, wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Are you bored?"
"Yes," he said immediately. Draco pulled her onto his lap and grinned.
"Want to do something?"
"Sure. What are you thinking?"
Hermione shrugged and nuzzled his neck. "You think of something."
"I can think of a lot of things. But most of them just got nixed. I don't even want to know what Theo is doing to Pansy right now. In the room I sleep in!"
Hermione didn't want to imagine it either. The two Slytherins she liked least… "It's probably no worse than we've done..."
"No, Hermione, you're wrong on this one. What we do is a lot better because we're not them."
"We are so much better than them." She giggled and kissed him lightly. "I didn't even know they were…"
"I don't think they were. But we were talking about us."
"I told you to think of something."
"That's right." Draco leaned back in his chair. His fingers began running up and down her back. His neck smelt of pine. A sweet freshness. His hands found their way under her wool jumper and were now only separated from her skin by thin cotton. His fingertips dug into her back and she breathed in his scent again. She missed being this close to Draco. There was always something to read, something to write, a class to attend, or too many people around. She missed being this close to someone else. It reminded her that she didn't have to be the Hogwarts champion to be wanted. She only had to be herself.
Hermione tilted Draco's chin with a finger and kissed him, letting it linger a moment. "Let's go somewhere private," she whispered.
"Yeah?" he said, grinning again.
She failed at suppressing a juvenile smile and nodded.
They hurried out of the common room together, hand in hand. Hermione pulled him into the empty classroom she used for her tutoring class.
"In here?" Draco asked.
"Mmm," was the only sound Hermione could make when her tongue was making a beeline for his.
Draco walked them further into the classroom, pulling off her jumper. He lifted her onto a desk and began unbuttoning her shirt. Hermione locked her legs around his waist. "Draco," she said between kisses and the tingling sensation that fluttered through her body. "The Yule Ball is in a few weeks."
"Mmhmm," he murmured, abandoning her buttons and kissing her neck.
"You still haven't asked me," she said, rubbing her body against his. She was still amazed at the actual mass of another person in this proximity. Seeing someone was really nothing compared to feeling them.
"Haven't I?"
"No." She pulled his head up to meet his lips. "You should ask me."
"Okay."
Hermione pulled his jumper over his head and pressed her hands against his chest. "No, ask me for real."
Draco laced his fingers through her thick hair. "Right now?"
"Why not?"
"Why not later?"
"Because right now is perfect," she grinned. "Don't you think?" He smiled meekly but did not meet her gaze. "Don't you think?" Hermione repeated, pulling back a little. Eye contact at this distance could be a bit awkward, mechanically.
He did look up at her now. "I think this is a perfect moment."
"Good," she said. "So ask me now."
"How about later?"
"It's ten words, Draco. Just repeat after me: 'Hermione, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?'. It's not that hard."
"Harder than you think," he grumbled.
"You know what my answer is going to be," Hermione sighed. This was getting exasperating. It wasn't like their relationship was secret or anything. No one would bat an eye that Draco would ask his girlfriend to the ball. "Just ask the damn question."
"I can't," he said suddenly, taking a step back. "Okay? I can't."
Hermione's legs dangled off the desk. "What do you mean you can't?"
"I mean that I can't ask you."
She stared at him, not really understanding. "I'm going to say yes, Draco. Everyone expects us to go together. You can ask me."
"No, not everyone expects." He put his hands on his head.
"What do you mean? We've been dating for, what, almost a year?"
"Almost."
"In that time, who here doesn't know we're together?"
"I don't know."
"And I don't care. So ask me."
"I can't, Hermione. I told you. My father…"
"What does your father have to do with this?"
"Everything."
"You have to clear your date to a school dance with your father?"
"No. Yes. No."
"I'm getting mixed signals here, Draco. Your father hasn't endorsed me as a dance partner?"
Draco ran his fingers through his hair. "Something like that. No, not that. It's just... Father has his opinions on matters."
"Yes, I've noticed," Hermione hummed.
"He has lots of opinions. Strong opinions. And he makes things happen."
"I still don't get it."
A pained look crossed Draco's face. "He wants me to go with Daphne."
Hermione took a beat. "Daphne?"
"Yes, Daphne."
"Why Daphne?" she asked slowly, afraid of the answer.
Draco just gave her a grave look.
"Because I'm –" she couldn't help herself.
"Because you are," interrupted Draco, sparing her the pain of saying it out loud.
Hermione didn't know what to say. "Because…"
"Yes."
"But…"
"I know."
She felt a lump in her throat that wouldn't go away. What was that feeling? Betrayal? "Narcissa – your mother –"
"Mother doesn't always agree with father."
"He listens to her –"
"Not in this."
"Your father wants you to go with Daphne."
Draco nodded.
Hermione stared at the ground for a minute. It was so stupid. So, so stupid. She couldn't imagine being beholden to her father like this. "Just ignore him." She ignored her father, on occasion. Why couldn't Draco?
"He's my father –"
"And you're Draco Malfoy," Hermione jumped off the desk and grabbed Draco by his loose tie. "Ask your damn girlfriend to shuffle around the fucking Great Hall."
"I can't just ignore him," Draco shook his head as if defeated.
"How will he even know?" Hermione said quickly, feeling just a bit irked that Draco didn't want to grow a backbone. "He's not going to be here."
"He'll find out."
"And so what if he does?" demanded Hermione.
"He's my father. He's ordered me to ask Daphne to the Yule Ball. I can't get out of it. He gave me a bracelet to give to her and everything."
Hermione took a step back. "Excuse me?"
"I asked Daphne to the ball."
"You what?"
"I asked Daphne to the Yule Ball, okay?"
Hermione stared at him. It felt like an icy dagger had been plunged into her heart. He couldn't even meet her eyes.
"You asked Daphne," she whispered. He nodded slowly. "To the Yule Ball." He nodded again. "And she accepted."
"Look, she's in the same position as me –" He tried to move closer to her but Hermione pushed him back. "Our parents –"
"You asked Daphne?" Hermione shouted, lashing out at him. Draco took a step back and held up his hands.
"It's not like I wanted to."
"You wanted to ask me, then?"
"Of course!"
"But you didn't," she snarled. "Because she's a pureblood."
"Because she's from a well-respected family."
"Because she's a pureblood," Hermione spat. "And what am I? A fucking dog?"
"Come on, Hermione –"
"A filthy little mudblood?" Hermione collected her jumper from the ground and pulled it over her head to hide her burning cheeks and watery eyes for just a moment.
"Hermione, you know I don't think that."
"Don't you? You wouldn't do this to Pansy or Daphne, or even Tracey. But it's okay if I'm just a mud-crawling animal?"
"It's just a school dance, like you said. Daphne and I will sit together, but that's it."
"That's it? That's it?" She couldn't understand how he could hear himself and still believe he wasn't doing something wrong. Hermione felt the tears coming but ignored them. "Yeah, you're only taking another girl to a school-wide dance. You're only showing the entire student body that you prefer Miss Perfect Pureblood Princess. Your mudblood whore is only good between the sheets."
"It's not like that Hermione. I'm not dating Daphne."
"I'm just supposed to cheer you on while you cozy up to my closest female friend in front of the whole scshool? I'm supposed to run back to you when you need someone to shag? Do you not understand how humiliating this is?"
"I'm not trying –"
"That is exactly the problem." Hermione tried buttoning up her shirt under her jumper but gave it up with a sob. "I bet you didn't even think about disobeying daddy."
"Hermione, it's one evening for, like, two hours. I don't even have to be with Daphne the entire time. We can still dance together. We're not over."
"Yes we are."
"What?" His mouth hung open.
"If you think for one instant that I would ever settle for second place on anything, then you don't know me at all."
"It's not coming second."
"You know what? You're right," she gasped. "I'll just sit here meekly while you prance around with any purebred mare you take a fancy to. You'll be back, eventually. I just have to watch and wait."
"I'm not asking you to wait –"
"Do you remember what I told you last year? I let the World Cup slide because your parents might have invited Daphne themselves. But now? You can get the fuck out." She pointed a quivering finger at the door.
"Hermione, we can talk about this –"
"I've got spells to make you say whatever I please. Your words mean nothing to me."
"You don't mean that," said Draco.
"Yeah?" Hermione grasped for her wand. "Go ask your new girlfriend how long you'd last. She seemed pretty impressed in how much pain I can cause. Or maybe I'll skip the unforgivables and castrate you with a simple 'diffindo'." Hermione pointed her wand lower.
Draco flinched and turned his body sideways. He opened his mouth to say something but she was done with his words. Done with Draco. "Bombarda!"
He ducked quickly and the spell only cracked the stone wall beside the doorway. Draco had darted out of the classroom before she released her second spell, lashing a cut across the heavy door.
And she was alone in the classroom.
She let go of trying to control the tears – trying to control herself – and fell to her knees, sobbing into her hands. She stayed there for several minutes thinking of how unfair it all was. Draco was supposed to be her best friend, her boyfriend, hers. How could he betray her like this?
But wasn't it all so obvious? Inevitable, even?
Hermione had expected it two years ago, when Draco began their friendship. She expected him to drop her at any time. She was just a mudblood. He couldn't really care about her. He only wanted what she could give him.
Well, he had taken what he wanted. Her intelligence, her body… That was all he was after. And she just gave it to him. For what? To be accepted into a group that would never respect her?
But he did seem regretful – as little as it mattered. He didn't seem to want to hurt her. He even wanted to explain himself. Did he care enough about her to need her to understand?
It was all so confusing. So complicated. So stupid.
Hermione didn't want engage in stupid activities. She was above them. But Draco dragged her down into them. And she liked it. She humored herself because he made her feel… what did he make her feel? It wasn't something she wanted to analyze because it would lead to difficult questions, and more difficult answers. It was something to indulge, from time to time, not to question. Hermione didn't want to call it was love. Because how could it be love? They were fifteen – and love was such a silly construct, really. A biological, evolutionary trick played by the brain on itself. A devious, demented trick.
And Hermione knew that. So why did it still hurt so much?
"Fuck," she sniffed. "FUCK!" she screamed louder, lashing her wand at the nearest desk. It shattered into a thousand bits of wood.
That didn't help. She still felt the pain. She needed something else.
Revenge.
Hermione needed revenge.
When Weasley and Potter were bastards to her, she returned in kind.
When Pansy was a bitch, she returned in kind, and then more. And it felt so, so good.
All she needed was to find how to return the favor to Draco.
Simple.
She needed to find someone to make Draco feel small and insignificant. Someone she would take to the Yule Ball and snog the fuck out of in front of him. Show him that he meant as little to her as she meant to him. Someone like a Tri-Wizard champion. A better seeker than him. Older than him. Handsomer than him. Better than him. And a Hufflepuff to boot.
Cedric Diggory was the answer. Cedric Diggory would put Draco in his place.
Hermione wiped her eyes clear and stood, straightening herself out and making herself presentable.
She stepped out into the hallway. Draco was nowhere to be seen. Hermione took off in the opposite direction of the Slytherin dorms. She hadn't ever been to the Hufflepuff common room, but she knew it was somewhere in the dungeons. Somewhere around here.
Hermione spent five minutes wandering the corridors looking for a stray badger to follow before remembering, in a moral sapping second, what Pansy had been saying. Diggory was going with Cho Chang.
Perfect, cursed Hermione.
But all was not lost. A new candidate had popped into her mind and she was surprised she hadn't thought of it before. A Hufflepuff might have pissed Draco off, but what would hurt him more? If Hermione showed up with his idol.
And Victor Krum was known to take runs around the lake this time of day. With a triumphant smile, she set off up the stairs to the main level of the castle.
Hermione stepped onto the bridge off to the grounds at a half-jog, only slowing to a normal pace when she saw a gaggle of girls coming up from the other side. Still, she walked quickly. As she approached the girls, she saw blue scarves and ties. Ravenclaws. A year or two older than Hermione, she guessed. She had never had any classes with them, but they didn't look like seventh years.
They had passed each other without a word when Hermione saw someone run quickly onto the bridge. Black hair, skinny, and all-together runt-like. It was Harry Potter. Champion of Hogwarts. The-Boy-Who-Lucked-into-Everything. "Hey," he said, and then again louder, "Hey!" Potter was looking past her. At the Ravenclaw girls.
Hermione looked back. One of them was Cho Chang. And Potter was making googly eyes at her. She wanted to stop and watch the train wreck. He would ask her out in front of all her friends and then get rejected out of hand. But as he raised the shout one last time, another idea squeezed its way into her head.
"Hey!" he said loudly, now getting one of the last Ravenclaws to turn.
"What do you want, Potter?" Hermione said loud enough for it to carry on to the girls. "You don't have to shout at me."
Potter gave her a dismissive glance. "I'm not –"
"Shut up, Potter," said Hermione, grabbing his arm as he tried to pass her. "She's taken."
"Who – what?"
"Chang is with Diggory."
"What do you mean?"
"Chang. Diggory. Yule Ball."
Potter licked his lips, glancing at the retreating Ravenclaws. "How do you know?"
"I hear things. Point is, I just saved you some embarrassment."
"Okay… but why?"
Hermione crossed her arms. "Why do I do anything? I want something."
"Yeah, well – I'm busy, Granger."
"Mmhmm. I could tell. How long did you spend on your 'fly around a fire-breathing dragon' plan? Must've stayed up way past your bedtime."
"Your eyes are red," he said. "Been crying?"
Hermione hesitated, and Potter tried to dart away. She followed. "None of your business. I'm talking to you."
"We've been doing so well at not doing that," he muttered, not slowing up.
"I have an amendment to our status quo."
"Big words, Granger. I might not know what you're saying."
"It means –"
"God, Granger – I know it means!"
"Well, how was I supposed to know that?"
"I'm not a complete dolt."
"Maybe not completely…"
"What do you want and how soon can you go away?"
"I have a proposal and as soon as possible."
"As long as it doesn't have anything to do with a ring," he said.
"No, I definitely want to marry a Gryffindor who is famous for not dying when he should have. But –"
"No, you're more into the one who is famous for having a bag of galleons where his asshole should be – oh, and being an asshole."
Hermione bit her tongue, focusing on that physical pain. "Do you want to get one over on the asshole?"
Potter gave her a sidelong look. "Not having a spat, are we?"
"Pastures new, and all that."
"Really?" He sounded half interested.
"It doesn't really matter. Do you want something to throw in his face?"
"Besides dungbombs? Maybe. What is it?"
Hermione took a deep breath. "Go to the Yule Ball with me."
Potter came to a halt. "Excuse me?"
"You're excused. Now say yes."
His brows were pushed so far together he had a unibrow. "You're for real?"
"As real as magic."
"Uhh… I already have a date…"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You were just looking for Girl Number Two a minute ago, then?"
"How do you even –"
"Intuition. And just about every girl is keeping tabs on which champion has a date yet."
"You're not one of them, are you?"
"Of course not. I hear things."
"Well, it doesn't matter who I am or am not going with – I'm not going with you."
"Because I'm a Slytherin or because I'm too good looking for you?"
Potter snorted. "Because you're insane."
"You've waited this long. Who else have you got? A bunch of bumbling fangirls, prepubescent children and Virginia?"
"Ginny's going with Neville," he muttered.
Hermione had to hold her laughter. She still needed him to say yes. "So it's down to the fangirls and first years. Do you want to go to a dance with someone who wants you to sign their whatever every five minutes? Or do you prefer the eleven-year-olds?"
"No –"
"So you want to go with someone who is near your age? Someone who won't embarrass you?"
"I suppose –"
"So that eliminates just about everyone left."
"Except you?"
"Except me."
"You wouldn't prefer some Slytherin bully?"
"I'd prefer the Hogwarts Champion. But I'll settle for you."
"Why exactly do you want to do this?"
"Because no one fucks with me and gets away with it."
This has been coming for a while so I hope it isn't a surprise.
This year is dominated by personal drama, not my personal preference but it is all important to set up the characters and relationships for when the real fireworks go off. There will be significant plot payoff for most of this angsty-drama down the road.
