Hermione stood in front of her mirror, running a brush through her hair before pulling it up into a French roll, little tendrils falling in front of her face. She had no clue where she was going but she hoped she wasn't too dressy. The black dress she'd borrowed from Ginny fit her comfortably, but snuggly, showing off her curves. The front of the dress was attached to a choker which tied on the back of her neck, while most of her back was out in the open. And then there was slit up the side of her leg, going halfway up her side.

"Okay," Hermione muttered. "I look . . . okay. . . . I look . . . like something."

There was a knock downstairs. Hermione quickly put on her shoes (black high heels that snapped around her ankles), and ran downstairs. "Coming!" she called.

Checking her reflection once more, Hermione sighed, slightly content with how she looked. Turning towards the door, she took a quick breath and opened it.

"Wow, you look fantastic!"

Hermione's smile dropped. "Ron? What are – what are you doing here?"

"Well," Ron said, "Ginny told me she was keeping the boys tonight so I wanted to come see if maybe you wanted to go to dinner with me tonight."

Hermione sighed. "I'm, er, kind of already going somewhere."

"Really? Where are you going?"

"Well, uh, I –"

"Who are you going with?"

Hermione finally looked up at Ron to see the hurt in his eyes. "Malfoy?" he said.

She nodded. The hurt in Ron's eyes turned to anger. "What are you doing going out with him then?"

"He asked me to go somewhere with him. And I said yes."

"You don't even know where he's taking you? Isn't that a little dangerous?"

"What do you expect him to do with me? Kill me and stuff me in a garbage can?"

"I expect him to be the same old Malfoy from school! I don't know why you trust him so much Hermione! He's just going to end up breaking your heart like the first time and you're just leading the way! He's a git! He's –"

"—the father of my kids and he's changed! He's been nothing but helpful since he found out about the boys and –"

"AND SO HAVE I! I WAS HERE WHEN HE WASN'T! I'VE ALWAYS BEEN HERE WHEN HE WASN'T! HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU, HERMIONE! AND HE PROBABLY NEVER WILL LIKE YOU! YOU'RE NOT EVEN HIS TYPE! HE'S PROBABLY JUST USING YOU!"

An odd silence followed those last words. Ron visibly calmed down as he realized what he said, his face blanching. "Hermione –"

"Because that's all I'm good for, right?" Hermione said, a stray tear falling from her eye. "For people to use me? How many times have you used me, Ron, huh?"

"Hermione, that's not –"

"Besides, who the hell are you to tell me who's my type and who's not? Oh, wait, I know. Is it because you definitely know you are not my type, right?"

"But –"

"Go away Ron."

"Hermione –"

"Leave!" She slammed the door shut. Taking a deep breath to calm her down. Tears were still threatening to fall and she squeezed her eyes shut, going back upstairs to fix her makeup.

Halfway up the stairs there was another knock on her door. Hermione groaned out loud before rushing to open the door. "For crying out loud! Go away, Ron!"

"Ron? I am definitely not Ron."

Hermione froze in her anger to see Draco standing in front of her, dressed in black slacks and a black button up shirt, an amused look on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

"Oh," Hermione said, stepping back to let him in. "Sorry. I thought you were someone else."

"Weasley, apparently," Draco said, going into the kitchen to grab a vase. "Why on earth would I be Weasley?"

"He was over here a couple of minutes before you arrived."

Draco sat the vase on the table and looked at Hermione. The smile on his face disappeared slightly. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing, I don't really want to talk about it. . . . Are we ready to go? I hope I'm not too dressed up."

She blushed slightly as Draco's eyes raked over her outfit. He looked up at her again and smiled, "You look fine."

"So where are we going?" Hermione asked as Draco offered his arm to her to Apparate.

"A little jazz club I heard about from a friend. I think you like it."

Hermione couldn't lie to herself. She was completely surprised that Draco was into poetry and jazz, but it was a good surprise since she liked poetry and jazz a lot too.

Their table sat just on the edge of the dance floor where they had a good view of the band and the speakers hired for that night. And the light dinner that they had been served had been absolutely spectacular.

"This is really nice," Hermione said to Draco under the soft music.

He smiled. "I'm really glad you like it."

"All right cool kids out there," the mc said as the song came to an end, "this next number played by Silky Smooth and his band goes out all those lovebirds in our audience. So guys grabbed that one lovely gal and come to the dance floor."

Draco offered his hand to Hermione. "Care to dance?"

"I'm not a very good dancer," she said, blushing.

"Please?"

Hermione hesitated before finally reaching out to take his. He pulled her to her feet and took her out into the middle of the dance floor, his free hand landing gently on her waist. Hermione wished for the blush on her face to go away but instead it seemed to get deeper. When she finally got the nerve to look from Draco's shoulder to his face, she wished she hadn't. His gaze trapped her and she couldn't tear her eyes from his. He smiled at her and she was able to relax, though only slightly. Her stomach felt like it had just taken a rollercoaster trip on its own.

But for the first time that night, she was able to forget about Ron and all the cruel things he had said to her and she was able to bask in this perfect night.

The band music softened and a speaker got up, his voice magnified, but speaking just above a whisper.

Love. Oh, what a rush it brings. The way one's heart quickens at the simplest of touches. The heat in the face at the simplest of words. The acceleration of finding that one special person, who makes the world stop and yet spend faster at the same time. Love. The greatest of emotions, holding all the emotions. The way of life. The way of living. My way to you, your way to me. My love, your love, our love. Complete.

Hermione laid her head on Draco's shoulder as he held her closer to him. A small smile appeared on Hermione's face as she closed her eyes. Oh, yes, this was perfect.

Hermione and Draco Apparated back into her house, going on twelve in the morning, completely silent but completely happy.

"That was really beautiful, Draco," Hermione said, softly. "Thank you."

"Anytime," Draco said. They stared at each other for a moment before looking into opposite directions. "I better be going."

He stepped back to Apparate when Hermione said, "Wait."

Stepping towards him, she took a chance, leaning up and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. Smiling at him she said, "Good night."

He grinned back, his cheeks turning slightly pink, "Good night, Hermione."

He Apparated out of her house and Hermione turned to the stairs, sighing happily. "Not his type my arse."