The Debutante Ball

A fanfiction novel by sizzleberrylicious

Chapter Twelve

((This chapter is dedicated to my 100th reviewer, LonelyBeat. Enjoy!))

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"Ugh, I swear, 'Mione, if Snape gives us any more homework tomorrow, I might have to castrate him!" Ron cried out, wringing his hands in the air in anger, as the Golden Trio entered the Great Hall. Harry put a sympathetic hand on Ron's shoulder to calm him down, whereas Hermione simply sighed.

"We all know that Snape hates Gryffindors, Ron. We're just going to have to deal with it," she shrugged helplessly. "Besides, we won't be seeing any more of him after our N.E.W.Ts are done."

"Whoopee," Ron mumbled sarcastically as they seated themselves at the Gryffindor table. Hermione sat with her back to the stone wall, so she had a clear view of the Slytherin table. She discreetly searched the table for Draco whilst fiddling with the delicate neck of her glass chalice, finding him talking to an animated Pansy Parkinson. He looked up and their eyes locked. He gave her a small nod and a smile before turning his attention back to Pansy.

"Hermione?" Harry called, waving his fingers in front of her face. Hermione snapped to focus and smiled sheepishly at him.

"Oh, sorry, Harry. What were you saying?"

"We'll be leaving dinner early, 'Mione, we've got late Quidditch practices," Ron stated, sulking, as he bit into a fried chicken leg. He smiled apologetically and managed through a mouthful of chicken, "But we'll be back in the Commons by midnight, 'Mione. Just call if you need us."

Hermione nodded and brought the chalice up to her chapped lips, it being already full to the brim and sloshing with gurgling pumpkin juice. "Alright."

Just then, Ginny seated herself next to Hermione, smiling. "Hi, guys."

"Hey, Gin," Hermione replied, slowly massaging her throat. It felt itchy and bugged her. She took a huge gulp of her pumpkin juice, hoping to cure the itch.

"So, 'Mione, Gin, we'll be going now," Harry said, smiling, as he and Ron stood up, Ron's arms laden with assorted treacle tarts. "See you later."

Ginny gave her brother a look. "Ron, I don't think anyone has managed to play Quidditch while stuffing their face with tarts."

Grinning sheepishly, Ron merely shrugged his shoulders. "I'll be the first, then!"

Hermione watched as the boys left the Hall, taking larger gulps of her pumpkin juice. Her throat was really starting to ache..

She turned her attention back down to her untouched plate of potato salad, cheese asparagus, and creamed spinach. Ginny picked up a fork and carefully prodded Hermione's choice of dinner, scrunching up her nose.

"'Mione, when did you decide to go vegetarian?"

"Well - ," Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but was stopped when she felt a sudden burning ache in her throat. She bit her lip as she massaged her throat, the pain increasing by the second. She felt like her throat was expanding at an alarming rate, and it was constricting her breathing. Taking in ragged gasps for air, she grabbed onto the edge of the table, her knuckles whitening from the grip. I.. I can't.. breathe..!

"Hermione?" Ginny asked, her eyes widening, worried. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tight, her hand clamped tight around her throat. What's going on?!

Suddenly, Hermione jerked backwards, throwing herself off her chair and onto the cold marble floors, her head coming into sharp contact with the ground, releasing a blood-curdling scream that resounded around the Great Hall before everything went black.

x x x x x x x x x x

"Hermione? ..Hermione!"

Hermione groaned as she turned over onto her side, her head throbbing incessantly. She was going to need a handful of narcotics to relieve the pain. Her throat burned as if someone had lit a match to it, and her lungs felt constricted. She twisted her legs underneath the plain white hospital blanket that covered her shivering form.

Wait a minute.

Hospital blanket?

Hermione's dark amber eyes snapped open to see a whitewash ceiling several feet above her. A flickering candle floated peacefully, it's hot wax dripping into the silver plate below it. She shut her eyes again, giving herself time to adjust to the bright morning light that streamed in through the large windows.

"Hermione?"

Who was that calling her name? It sounded oddly familiar.. What a lovely husky voice..

Blinking, she slowly pushed herself upright with her elbows, leaning back into the soft goose-feather pillow. A hazy image swam in front of her eyes, and Hermione had to blink several more times before it settled.

"Draco!" she let out a hoarse cry. Her head started to throb again, and her hand flew up to clutch her head. She let out a surprised gasp when, instead of feeling her untamed mane of bushy brown hair, her hand came into contact with a slick, smooth, white bandage. She shot Draco a helpless glance. "Wha - what's going on?"

Draco grimaced before reaching for her hand. "Everything's alright now. You had a fall in the Great Hall during dinner last night and hurt your head before losing consciousness. I took you here, and Madam Pomfrey ran a check-up on you before giving you your antidotes." His quicksilver eyes suddenly turned cloudy and menacing, his beautiful lips forming a scowl. "Apparently, you were poisoned, Hermione."

Hermione's eyes grew wide and she quickly sat up with her back poker-straight. "P - poisoned?!" she managed to rasp before falling back onto her pillow, emitting a soft groan at the pain that throbbed incessantly from the core of her mind.

"Someone snuck some Poison Ivy into your pumpkin juice last night," Draco informed her, darkly.

Hermione nearly collapsed off the hospital bed. Poison Ivy?! That was the most dangerous, lethal powdered poison ever discovered, and was illegal in most parts of the world. The smallest dose could put it's victim under an endless coma spell. "P - poison Ivy?! B - but.. how did I s - survive?"

"I managed to get you here in time, before the poison could take effect in your bloodstream," Draco explained. "Your attacker forgot that the deadly effects of Poison Ivy are lessened when mixed with flavoured fluids, like your pumpkin juice, as it's at it's strongest in water or more solid mediums."

Suddenly, Draco nearly got knocked out of his seat. With a gasp, he realised that Hermione had practically threw herself onto him, her weak arms weaved around his neck, hugging him breathless. She sniffed. Draco frowned. Was she.. crying?!

"Thank you, Draco," she said, her voice small and muffled by his robes as she dug her face deeper into the crook of his shoulder. "Thank you for saving my life."

After several moments, Draco slowly unlatched her from him, looking down onto her smiling face, her eyes unusually glazed and rimmed with red. "Careful, Hermione, or you're going to hurt yourself."

Hermione sniffed involuntarily as her smile grew. "I won't need to worry about that, Draco. I've got you."

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Harry and Ron burst into the Hospital Wing, disrupting the peaceful silence. Madam Pomfrey glared at them from where she stood spooning some hot amber liquid into a terrified first year's mouth. "Mister Potter! Mister Weasley! What do you think you're doi - "

"Where's Hermione?" Harry cut her off urgently, gripping his muddy Firebolt tight. He and Ron were still decked out in their Quidditch uniforms, rain water dripping from their mud-splattered attire. Ron's cerulean eyes swept over the mostly empty hospital beds before grabbing Harry's elbow.

"Look, there she is!" he shouted before quickly making his way over to the other side of the room, Harry hot on his heels. Their worried yet relieved expressions darkened considerably when they saw who was seated at her bedside, grasping her limp hand. "Malfoy," Ron seethed, gritting his teeth as they approached the bed.

Ron immediately grabbed Draco by his collar and rammed him against the nearest wall, his wand out and pointed steadily at the smirking boy's throat. "What did you do to her, you mangy little ferre - Argh, lemme go, Harry!"

"No, Ron," Harry admonished, although his bright emerald eyes shone with the same amount of loathing, if not more, that was evident in Ron's eyes."He's not worth it."

Instead of backing down like Harry hoped he would, Ron pressed the tip of his wand into Draco's delicate milky skin, emitting a low growl. "Yes, he's bloody well worth it, the slimy git, after what he's done!" he practically roared. "Wh - "

"MISTER WEASLEY!!" shrieked a dishevelled Madam Pomfrey as she rushed up to them, waving her wand about, her eyes bulging and looking absolutely hysterical. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO MISTER MALFOY!! PUT HIM DOWN THIS INSTANT!!"

Ron immediately released Draco's collar, glaring at the pale boy as he adjusted his robes. "Sorry, Madam Pomfrey. Won't happen again."

Huffing, the medi-witch waggled her wand loosely between her fingers at Ron. "It better not, Mister Weasley, or it'll be the Headmaster's office for you," she sniffed before marching into her office, her frothy skirt swishing behind her.

The moment he heard the door click, Ron lunged himself at Draco once more, this time gripping the boy's neck. "You malicious, snotty, big-headed Slytherin ferret!" he snarled, careful to keep his voice in check in case Madam Pomfrey decided to take a peek. He pushed Draco up against the wall again, shoving his wand deep into Draco's skin. "What did you do to her? Huh? Poisoned her didn't you? You evil liar, you are! You swore to protect her, didn't you? And off you go, skipping, I bet, and poisoned her pumpkin juice! Who would've thought, huh? Who would've thought?! ..Why, I ought to hex you so hard, your precious mummy will lose all her pretty hair."

Ron flinched slightly as Draco's molten grey eyes flashed. "Don't you ever talk that way about my mother, Weasel," he warned, his tone dangerously low albeit dulcet. "Don't you ever insult my mother. Ever."

Gaping, Harry simply stood there, helpless, watching this exchange of words with immense depression at his inability to handle the matter at hand. B - but.. I'm Harry Potter..! I can do ANYTHING..!

"Er.. Ron, don't..," Harry flailed his arms in the air, exasperated, when Ron disregarded him. Hmph. Nobody ignores the great Harry Potter. "Ron! Don't!"

"Shut it, Harry," Ron snapped, his raging blue eyes fixed on Draco's livid expression. "You're ruining my concentration."

Concentra - What?? Oh, Merlin.

"Leave, Pothead," Draco commanded simply, his gaze fixed on Ron's freckled face. Astounded, Harry frowned.

"No."

"LEAVE, Pothead," Draco repeated, this time enunciating his words. He gripped his wand in his pocket, ready to jinx the interfering Boy Wonder.

"No!"

Muttering cuss words under his breath, Draco leveled his wand at Harry and verbalised the first hex that came to mind, watching with amusement as Harry gave a short yell and flew backwards out the infirmary doors. Satisfied, Draco chanted a non-verbal charm in his head so that the door to Madam Pomfrey's office was securely sound proof.

Ron's eyes flickered for a moment before setting them back onto Draco's pleased form.

"I will hex you, you know," Ron mentioned casually, his lips twitching malevolently as he continued to glare at Draco. "Dirty little ferrets like you don't deserve the right to go around poisoning people's morning juice."

"Hex me?" Draco laughed bitterly. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Weasel. Remember the last time you pointed that wand in my direction? Didn't turn out so well for you now, did it?" he mocked, sneering. "So unless you've fixed that filthy wand of yours, I suggest you put it down. Don't want you to hurt yourself, after all."

An insidious smirk broke out on his handsome face. "Oh, wait. Forgive me, Weasel, I forgot. You're too poverty-stricken to buy a new wand, aren't you?"

"WHY, YOU HALF-ARSED LITTLE - !"

CRUNCH

Eyes wide open they nearly popped out of their sockets, Draco stumbled slightly, his hand flying up to feel his broken nose, glistening blood dripping down his pale chin. Sneering, he turned his attention back to a seething Ron, his voice thick. "You're going to regret that, Weaselface."

Growling menacingly, Draco lashed out his wand and began to utter a chain of hexes under his breath, watching with stormy grey eyes as the colourful jets of lights shot out of his wand directly at Ron's chest. Taken aback, Ron yelled, his eyes round with terror, as he got flung backwards, landing in an ungraceful heap on the polished stone floors several feet behind him. Immediately, he turned rigid as a board and ice blue, boils sprouting up on various parts of his anatomy as thick lengths of rope wound their way securely around his middle. His eyes swiveled around in horror, glaring silent daggers at a smirking Draco.

Swiftly, Draco hovered his wand in front of his broken nose, breathing a sigh of relief as the blood dried up and his nose fixed itself. In a swish of black robes, he was at Ron's side, staring down into Ron's petrified face. "I warned you, Weasel," he said softly. "But you never listen, do you?"

Giving Ron a slight kick, Draco pocketed his wand and sauntered out of the Hospital Wing.

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Hermione groggily opened her eyes, her eyelids fluttering apart. Her vision immediately swam before her eyes, her head pounding.

Owww..! Holy Hell.. My head..

She slowly turned on her side and reached out for the glass of water on her bedside table. She managed to wrap her trembling fingers around its cool surface and was about to bring it to her parched lips when she stopped short. Her eyes widened as her jaw dropped to the floor.

"Ron?!"

Lying down in the bed next to her, Ron grinned sheepishly. "Uhh.. Hi, 'Mione."

SMASH.

Hermione winced. The shock of seeing Ron beside her had caused her to drop her glass, water and all. She braced herself as she heard Madam Pomfrey bustle out of her office, clearly very frustrated, as she cleaned up the mess.

"Miss Granger! I'd certainly appreciate it if you could watch what you're doing! I don't have enough time to tend to every single thing you do..," she ranted, her tirade long and pointless. Finally, with a huffy glare, she turned on her heel and shuffled off to a third year's bedside, cooing about his sore tummy.

"What are you doing here, Ron?" Hermione questioned urgently. "Did - oh, no - did Draco.. do something?"

Ron's face was set in a grim line. "Yeah.. He did."

Hermione's expression was crestfallen. "Oh, Merlin. What did he do?"

"Err.. He just stunned me.. and tied me up.. and turned me blue.. and used that Furnunculus curse.. and - "

"Merlin," Hermione cut him off. "I made him promise not to touch you or Harry!" She gasped. "What about Harry? Is he alright?"

"He should be. Draco just sent him flying out the door, that's all - "

"He what?! Oh, gods, where is he?"

"Harry's back in the Common Room, he's alright - "

"No, Draco!"

Ron looked blank. "Uhh.. He left the Hospital Wing a few minutes ago to get you some dinner, I think."

Hermione scowled before composing herself, breathing in and out.

"What happened, exactly?"

Ron's ears turned red as his gaze flickered to the stretch of plain wall behind Hermione. "Err.. I accused him of poisoning you. He started sneering about my financial standards and such, so I.. punched him."

Hermione's face crumpled. "Good Lord. Ron..?"

"Then, he started firing off all sorts of hexes at me and left. Madam Pomfrey took some time coming out, then she sorted me out and made me stay in the Hospital Wing until she's sure all the side effects have worn off. I'll be here about a day, I suppose."

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"Really, Madam Pomfrey, I'm feeling perfectly fine - !"

"Nonsense, Miss Granger, there's no need to lie."

"But, Madam Pomfrey, I'm absolutely capable of - !"

"Miss Granger, you will stay at least another night in that hospital bed or I will personally see to it that Dumbledore hears of your.. disapproving behaviour."

"Madam Pomfrey - !"

"MISS GRANGER."

Huffing, Hermione snapped her mouth shut and folded her arms across her chest. Her whole body ached beneath the itchy hospital gown material and the harrowing pain in her head had ceased over the past few hours. The milky white sky outside the large curtain-swathed windows had turned ebony, the stars glinting mischievously from their nests high up in Heaven. Madam Pomfrey's dour tone would have been able to sober up any drunkard immediately, and Hermione definitely didn't want to irritate an already ruffled-feathered medi-witch. Draco had dutifully remained at her bedside throughout the rather uneventful day, randomly pointing out the faults of the large room. "Look, Hermione, there's a crack in the foundation over there in that corner. Do you see it? That teeny little line down there.." or "Hey, Hermione, these windows aren't the same length, are they? This one over here is definitely bigger compared to that one over there.."

Shooting Hermione with one last scrutinizing stare, Madam Pomfrey turned swiftly on her heels and marched into her office, her skirt of white and black cotton swirling around her ankles. Hermione sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin. I thought she'd never leave. I still don't see why I can't leave tonight, though. I'm perfectly fine, aren't I?"

Draco gave her a concerned look. "That old witch might've not gotten all the Poison out of your system yet, you know. Just a reminder, that stuff is deadly," he added casually, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Hermione couldn't help but crack a small smile.

Ever-loving narcissistic Malfoy.

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Disclaimer: No, no, no. Not mine. What made you think that, anyway?

Author's Note: What a crazy chapter. Just thought we should explore the limitless possibilities of what those hateful people would do to dear darling Hermione. Hang in to see what happens next! I'm really sorry that I'm moving so fast, but I'm trying to wrap up The Debutante Ball as soon as possible. Sorry:C Moving on, I'm really pleased to see that the story's attracting more new readers, or at least more readers to come out as reviewers. :D Brilliant!

Thanks to everyone who propelled me to reach 100 reviews! Hmm.. I'm aiming for 200 next, so keep those reviews rolling in:D Ttfn, su yin. xx