Disclaimer: sigh It's the usual, of course.

A/N: I'm back, I'm back, I'm back, and I'm back. Sorry for not updating soon. But anyway, it's here! The new chapter is here! Thanks for your reviews for the last chapter. I really appreciated all of them. So, okie, back to the story! Enjoy!

Start of Persuasion


May 30, 1990

Hermione looked at the clock for the umpteenth time. It was already 4:00 pm. Now, she was seated on her bed in her bedroom doing nothing except glance minute by minute at the clock or stares outside her bedroom window. Awhile ago, she was talking with Merlin about King Arthur and the likes but then the old wizard abandoned her for work. So now, she was all alone in her temporary bedroom.

Hermione sighed. She still has 2 hours before the actual birthday ball of Narcissa Malfoy. The brunette then stood up and grabbed her copy of the book Twilight. She sat down on her bed and started to read her favorite book again.

Minutes passed by and her eyes started to droop in exhaustion. Hermione released a yawn and closed the book (which she had finished again). She glanced up at the clock and saw that it was already 2:30 pm. She yawned again. 'Good,' she thought, 'only an hour and a half. I might as well take a short nap.'

Hermione then lied down on her bed. Once her head touched the pillow, she fell asleep.

"Miss Granger, wake up now!" Merlin exclaimed, shaking the sleeping body of the brunette. The old wizard shook his head. Hermione sure sleeps like a log. He had been trying to wake her up but alas, Hermione continued to sleep (with the constant sleep talking, of course). "Miss Granger, wake up! You'll be late for the ball!"

Hermione emitted a soft groan. "Ten more minutes," she mumbled, covering her head with her blanket.

"I don't think so, Miss Granger," Merlin said firmly. "You only have 15 minutes to prepare."

The brunette immediately removed the cover of her blanket from her face. She suddenly sat up, startling Merlin. She looked at the clock and like what Merlin had told her, she only has 15 minutes to prepare for the ball. It was already a quarter to 6.

Hermione sprang out from her bed and rushed to her bathroom to freshen up.

After 5 minutes, she emerged from her bathroom, looking very panicky. She glanced at the clock again. 5:50 it says. Only 10 more minutes to go. Funny how she thought awhile ago that she has a lot of time before the birthday ball.

She looked at Merlin who was calmly sitting on top of her bed. "All right, Merlin. Use your magic now on me." Hermione ignored the thought that maybe her dress would be very fashionable… on the 40's. All she needs to do now is to get dressed.

Merlin pointed his wand at the brunette. After a complicated wand movement and a non-verbal spell, he was done. He looked at Hermione in amazement. "Ah, Miss Granger, you look very gorgeous," he complimented, making the brunette blush. The old wizard pointed his wand at one corner of the room and conjured a full-length mirror. He motioned her to look at her reflection.

Hermione swallowed as she slowly walked towards the mirror. What if she looks horrible? What if Merlin thinks she looks gorgeous now when in truth, she isn't? ('No offense to you, Merlin,' she thought)

She closed her eyes when she's already in front of the mirror. She took in a deep breath and slowly, she opened her eyes. Her jaw immediately dropped. Merlin was bloody right, all right! She looks gorgeous! More beautiful than her look in her 4th year.

She was wearing a formal dress made of rose illusion satin. It was a spaghetti-strapped dress that leads into a criss-cross design on the back. The straps were accented with tiny dark iridescent beads. The front of the dress was also embellished with beads that create a floral vine design. Finally, it ended modestly just a few inches below her knee.

Black high-healed sandals were worn on both of her feet, the long straps wrapped around her ankle. Her hair is very beautiful. It was bewitched to be silkier and smoother tied up into a loose bun with some russet tendrils framing her glowing face. An authentic red rose charmed to not to wilt was sticking on her hair.

She was also wearing a light make-up which was good since she hates thick make-ups. She was also wearing a ruby-studded earrings on both of her ears; a simple heart-shaped necklace and to her surprise (and glee), her ring designed with rubies and diamonds organized into a pretty shape of flower was worn on her finger. It was very important for her since it was given to her by her beloved mother. She remembered that she forgot to wear it when the war erupted and knew that it was placed inside her trunk in her room in the Heads' Dormitory.

"I knew you would like that," Merlin suddenly said, also staring at the ring.

Hermione looked at the old wizard, her eyes beginning to water. "Thank you," she sincerely said, feeling very grateful.

Merlin gave her a grandfatherly smile. "Now, now, Miss Granger. I don't want you to cry and ruin your make-up," he commented.

The brunette softly chuckled, blinking back her tears. "Seriously Merlin, thank you very much," she said, her ring pressed against her chest where her heart is.

The old wizard gave her another smile. "You're very welcome," he said. He then offered his arm to the brunette. "Com on, milady, I'll apparate you outside the Malfoy Manor."

Hermione gave him a brilliant smile. She then grabbed her invitation and accepted his arm. With a dull pop, they apparated.

Draco Malfoy was feeling very, very bored now. The ball had just started a few minutes ago and all he could feel right now is plain boredom. Boring people wearing fancy dresses, dress robes, and any other formal attires were gathered in their banquet hall. All they talk about was money, fame, power… booorrring. He can also hear some hushed conversations about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He made a face. He also doesn't want to hear all those conversations about Voldemort and his plans of rise of power. He had heard a few things like 'Quirrell' and 'Sorcerer's Stone' which he doesn't know at all. Wherever Harry Potter was right now, the blond pities him.

His eyes then flickered at the entrance door located on top of the stairs. It's already 6:20 pm but he still hasn't seen Hermione. Guests were already walking down the stairs and were being greeted by his mother and father.

He looked around the hall but still, there's no sign of Hermione at all. His gaze landed on Blaise who was waving at him. Draco gave him a smile. Blaise might not be his best friend but he still considers him a friend. He then approached the dark boy and chattered with him. Their topics were mostly about Hogwarts (since they'll study there next year) and of course, Quidditch.

Until suddenly…

"Drakie-poo!"

Draco cringed. Pansy Parkinson was running towards him, a wide (sickening) grin on her face. "Oh Merlin," the blond groaned.

Blaise snickered. "Better hide from the dog," he said, watching in amusement as Pansy pushed people out of her way just to let them pass this annoying girl.

The blond nodded in agreement. "Yes, I think so," he said. "See you later, Blaise." With that, Draco mingled with the noisy crowd, not wanting Pansy to find him.

"Well," Hermione said, releasing a sigh. "This is it." She pulled her hand away from Merlin's arm and started to fidget with her dress.

The old wizard looked at the brunette in amazement. "Relax, Miss Granger. You look absolutely stunning," he reassured, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She released a nervous laugh, blushing slightly. "I'm just" – she gulped – "nervous."

"To see what Mr. Malfoy's reaction would be?" he asked, almost innocently.

Hermione groaned. "Please, Merlin. Draco's 9, I'm 17."

"He's still the same person you love, Miss Granger. I hope you remember that," Merlin stated. "And in your time, Mr. Malfoy's 17, too."

The brunette just pressed her lips together, refusing to answer. Actually, she doesn't know what to answer because honestly, Merlin's right.

The old wizard then gently squeezed her shoulder. "Now, I've got to go. Just call me when you need help or you want to go home already."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Merlin," she answered.

"Well then, see you later," the old wizard said. And then, he apparated.

The brunette looked at the entrance door and released a puff of breath. Hermione then started to walk towards the door, unconsciously fidgeting with her dress again.

She could see two wizards standing at both sides of the door. Some late people (like her) were giving their invitations to the guards. They then will check if the invitation is true or fake.

Hermione held her own invitation and slowly walked towards the two wizards. "Umm… excuse me?" she softly said. The two wizards looked at her at the same time. One wizard's jaw dropped while the other released a soft whistle. The brunette felt herself blushing furiously. She gulped. Merlin is definitely right. "He-here's my invitation," she softly said, giving the invitation to one of the wizards. They checked her invitation, too.

"You can go inside, Miss," one wizard said.

The brunette gave both of them a small smile. "Thank you," she said. And in return, the two wizards gave her identical goofy smiles and opened the door for her.

She looked at the banquet hall in awe. Everything is grand. From the ceiling to the floor. Hermione sighed. Of course, the Malfoy clan is very, very rich. They can afford to hold grand balls… balls that are grander than Hogwarts. She wondered if Draco has to attend every ball of the Malfoys. Yes, balls are fun but sometimes, they're honestly boring.

As she walked inside, eyes were starting to ogle at her. Hermione gulped again. If two men can make her blush, the whole ball can make her blush very furiously (she's already afraid her cheeks would turn into ashes because of the heat).

Hermione nervously tucked a stray strand behind her ear.

Once she descended the stairs, she was greeted by the one and only King of Jerks (a.k.a. Lucius Malfoy). She watched in shock when Lucius held her right hand and placed a gentle kiss on it.

"Welcome, Miss – ."

"Hermione," the brunette said.

"Ah, Hermione," Lucius said. "What a lovely name for a beautiful lady."

"Umm… thank you," she meekly said, surprised that Lucius Malfoy told her she's beautiful. Hermione looked around, searching for the familiar face of Draco. Her gaze then landed on the blond. She smiled and gave him a small wave. She noticed that he was blushing. Hermione raised one brown eyebrow and started to walk towards him when one man stopped her and asked her to dance. Being polite, she didn't refuse. Soon, Hermione found herself wrapped around a stranger's arms while swaying on the dance floor.

After a couple of dances here and there, Hermione's truly exhausted. Her feet were already killing her. A lot of men asked her to dance with her. Even Lucius Malfoy asked her and for Hermione, it was very, very awkward to dance with Voldemort's right hand.

Hermione then decided to stroll outside the banquet hall to avoid proposals of dancing. She then found herself walking in the Malfoy's garden again. Now, it was illuminated with hundreds and thousands of fireflies and glowworms.

The brunette decided to walk inside the gazebo where she and Draco were when she visited the Malfoy Manor. It was also beautifully illuminated, making the gazebo look more exquisite.

Once she was inside, Hermione was surprised to see that she wasn't alone. There, seated on one of the chairs, was Draco. He was staring back at her with wide eyes and his cheeks were slowly turning into red. Hermione beamed at him. Because of the dances, she never really got the chance to talk to him. And now, he is seated alone in the gazebo. A perfect chance to talk to him.

"Hey, Draco," she said as she sat down beside him.

The blond tensed a bit, curling his hands into fists. He gulped. "Umm… h-hey."

Hermione frowned. "Is there a problem?" she asked, looking at him curiously. Draco blushed deeper under her intense scrutiny. He mentally smacked himself and willed his cheeks to turn back into their normal pale color.

"Oh no, nothing," he said in feign calmness. "I'm perfectly fine, Hermione." The truth was he was feeling very uncomfortable. Hermione looks absolutely gorgeous the first time he had seen her slowly descending down the stairs towards their banquet hall. She perfectly resembles a red rose. At first, he thought a goddess just fell down from Mt. Olympus and found her way in the Malfoy Manor. But after close inspection, it was only Hermione after all. And boy, the beautiful teenager was seated beside him. Draco gulped.

"Sooo…" Hermione said, breaking the silence, "have you enjoyed the birthday ball so far?"

Draco just shrugged. "Boring as usual," he commented. "I hate parties and balls. It's just not my type."

The brunette snorted. "Well, I think you have to endure that since you would be attending more balls once you grow up."

The blond just grinned. "Well, you. Have you enjoyed the birthday ball so far?"

Hermione shrugged. "Boring as usual," she said, mimicking Draco's words. The blond just grinned at her. "I hate parties and balls. It's just not my type. And I know you can't say that I have to endure that since I wouldn't be attending more balls once I grow up."

Draco just chuckled. "Too bad," he said, shaking his head. They again fell into a comfortable silence, both plunged in their own world. Draco was thinking about Hermione and Hermione was thinking about Draco so actually, they really weren't thinking about two different things.

"A lot of blokes had asked you to dance," the blond stated, staring at his clasped hands on his lap.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, and my feet are killing me," she said, bending down as she massaged her right, painful foot. Draco watched her as a look of pain crossed her beautiful face.

"Does it really hurt?" he asked innocently as Hermione straightened again.

The brunette laughed. "You have no idea," she said. "I wished I just wore flat shoes. You know, I really hate wearing high-healed shoes."

Draco just smiled.

Hermione then looked at him. She smiled as an idea crossed her mind. "But, I still want to dance one more time," she said. Draco looked at her curiously.

"I thought your feet are killing you," he said in confusion. "Don't you want to rest first?"

The brunette shook her head. "Not before I danced with my favorite boy," she said, patting the blond's hair. Draco blushed, now realizing that Hermione wants to dance with him. He watched as she stood up and offered her right hand. "Come on, dance with me, Draco," she said, a wide grin on her face.

The blond frowned, his face red. "I'm smaller than you," he said, staring at her. "Shouldn't guys be taller than girls when dancing?"

Hermione just laughed and grabbed Draco's hand. "Come on, dance with me. It's all right if you're smaller than me," she said. She then placed her left hand on his shoulder and the free one held his. Draco shyly placed his free hand on her waist. And soon, the two of them started to sway together with music that was heard playing inside the Malfoy Manor.

Draco was unconsciously leaning until one side of his head was pressed against Hermione's tummy. He closed his eyes, liking the feeling. And for the very first time, Draco felt peaceful.

Hermione smiled, knowing that one side of Draco's head was pressed against her tummy. It's not hard to imagine that she was dancing with the 17-year-old Draco Malfoy while one side of her head was pressed against his chest. The brunette closed her eyes and released an inaudible sigh. How she wished that the 17-year-old Draco Malfoy knows how much Hermione Granger loves him. How she wished that when he asked her what her last words were before he killed her, she would have said 'I love you' instead of 'I hate you'. How she wished that the 9-year-old she was dancing with would miraculously turn into his 17-year-old form. Hermione then bent down and placed her chin on top of his head, her eyes still closed. How she really wished to tell the 17-year-old Draco Malfoy that she loves him oh so much.

Soon, the music inside the Manor stopped. Slowly (and reluctantly), Hermione pulled away from the 9-year-old and looked at him with a smile. Draco looked back with a smile, too.

"Now, my feet are absolutely killing me," the brunette said, laughing lightly as she sat down. Draco laughed too and sat down beside her.

Hermione then removed her sandals and started to massage her feet again.

Draco watched as she did this, still feeling peaceful even though their dance ended. "Have you ever been to a ball?" he asked, staring at the worm on the floor of the gazebo. He watched as it wriggled out of the gazebo until it disappeared.

"Once," came Hermione's response. "It was on my 4th year."

"Who was your date?" he asked, acting indifferent.

The brunette smiled. "Some famous bloke," she answered nonchalantly. "I made some girls envious, you know."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I bet you liked the attention," he said.

Hermione laughed. "Well actually, it was the contrary," she said, sighing as she leaned back on her chair. "I felt really quite uncomfortable, you know. The hairs at the back of my neck were always standing up which perfectly means that a lot of people were glaring at me." Hermione clasped both of her hands and placed it on top of her lap. She then stared at it. "There was someone who was glaring at me, too, you know. And his glare made me really uncomfortable." Hermione then scratched the back of her neck, thinking about the unnerving glares of a 14-year-old Draco Malfoy. "Though, all in all, it was an almost perfect ball. I proved to everyone that Hermione Granger is not only brains but also" – she grinned – "a beauty."

The blond rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help but grin also. "Were you that ugly in your lower years?" he asked, staring at her.

The brunette frowned. "Well… I don't really know," she said followed by a long sigh. "I don't really care about my looks when I was younger. Harry and Ron were right, you know. When I was a kid, my world only revolves around books and knowledge. Boys… well, I don't really care about them and I don't really care about what they think I look like." She then laughed, "Would you believe that most of the times, my best friends don't treat me as a girl?"

Draco just frowned. "Then, what about in your 4th year?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, I have no choice but to dress-up gorgeously since I'm the date of a famous guy," she said. "I have to look presentable, you know. Especially if my date has a very important role."

They fell into another comfortable silence. And then, the brunette suddenly thought that since she and Draco were all alone and no one would eavesdrop, she might as well start to persuade him into telling the Ministry of Magic that his father is indeed part of Voldemort's inner circle of Death Eaters.

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew that the young blond would react badly. The last time she asked about his father being a Death Eater was a proof. The brunette sighed and opened her eyes to look at Draco. It surprised her a little when he was looking at her, too.

"Is there a problem, Hermione?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. "Is there something bothering you?"

"Actually…" she said, staring at her clasped hands on her lap again. "There really is something that's bothering me." Hermione then looked at him again and stared at his big, wide eyes because of concern.

"Tell me what's bothering you, Hermione," he said as he frowned a little. "It might help you a little, you know."

"You'll get angry," Hermione blurted out.

Draco's frown deepened. "And why would I?" he inquired, raising one perfect blond eyebrow.

Hermione shook her head again. "You'll get angry with me, Draco. I know that," she said firmly, averting her gaze away from him. Instead, she looked at one firefly that was flying outside one window of the gazebo.

The blond scratched his chin in confusion. He trusted Hermione when she said that he'll get angry once she told him what was bothering her. But you see, Draco Malfoy is a very curious child. And so, biting down his lip, he whispered, "Try me."

Hermione frowned. "I told you you'll get angry with me," she said, sighing.

Draco groaned. "I'm curious, Hermione! What's bothering you… tell me!" he exclaimed,

The brunette sighed again and looked at the floor. "Remember the day when I… I asked you if your… your father is a… Death Eater?"

And there was silence.

"Draco?" she asked, still refusing to look at the little boy.

He didn't respond.

"Draco?" Hermione asked again, this time, she was slowly looking at him. And just like she expected, he stiffened, his jaw was tightened, and his eyes darkened, blazed with pure fury. Hermione sighed and looked at the floor again. "I knew you would get angry."

"I told you my father is not a you-know-what," he said through gritted feet.

Hermione shook her head and made a sad smile. "You know it's a lie, Draco," she softly said. "I know that Lucius Malfoy is really a Death Eater."

The blond growled, something that his 17-year-old self would usually do. "Drop it," he snarled.

"No," she said, shaking her head again. "I want to know if you do know if your father is a Death Eater, Draco."

"I said drop it!" he snarled louder.

"No!" Hermione exclaimed, now standing up and looking at the troubled 9-year-old in front of her. "Draco, do you think I'm blind and deaf? I've seen a lot of Death Eaters here in your mother's birthday ball."

"Then that doesn't mean my father's a Death Eater," he said in a dangerously low voice.

Hermione shook her head exasperatedly. "Draco, I've heard their plans! I've heard their plans of empowering him again! I've seen it, Draco… I've heard it." She knelt down in front of Draco and both held his shoulders. "Tell me if you know your father is a Death Eater," she ordered softly, squeezing his shoulders gently in an affectionate manner. "Please, Draco. Just tell me."

The blond didn't answer for a few minutes but then, he slowly stared at Hermione's brown orbs. The brunette softly gasped at the look in his eyes.

"Father… he's…" he stuttered. Hermione's eye misted at how vulnerable this young boy looks right now. "He…"

"DRACO!" someone bellowed. "WHERE ARE YOU?!"

The young boy flinched and looked frightfully outside the gazebo.

Hermione gulped. She knew it was Lucius Malfoy's voice.

"I… I have to go, Hermione," he whispered and stood up. In a matter of minutes, he was gone, leaving Hermione all alone in the gazebo. She stood up in her kneeling position and sat down on the chair again. She massaged her throbbing temples. She knew Draco would admit that he knows that his father is a Death Eater. He was about to say it before he went away.

Hermione closed her eyes. As she continued to meet him everyday, she was starting to understand why the 17-year-old Draco Malfoy was like that. She was starting to understand that Lucius Malfoy has a great effect in his life.

A lone tear slipped down her right face. If only Draco grew up in a different family… a loving family, maybe there would be a possibility that he would grow up being a good guy fighting for the light side. Maybe there is a possibility, a slight possibility that Hermione would be free to tell him what she truly feels.

Brushing her tear away, she stood up and summoned Merlin.

And then, she went back to her temporary home.

A/N: End of chapter! I hope you like it! So now, time for your reviews :)