A/N: I'm super sorry for the long wait! Now that it's summer I'll be able to update more quicky. Thank you for your patience. :)
"The world is too heavy
Too big for my shoulders
Come take this weight off me now." – Rubik's Cube, Athlete
Chapter 15 – The World is Too Heavy
Malfoy held out his arm silently to Hermione as she stepped out of Vladimir's portrait; too stunned to do much else, she took it awkwardly. Once she was steady on her feet, she dropped his arm and moved hastily to the side, allowing him to step through.
"Your manners are surprising," said Hermione.
"Don't flatter yourself. I wouldn't want you falling on your face and doing more damage to those teeth of yours."
Hermione scowled at him. "You know, for a moment I thought maybe we could be civil tonight. But I guess I was wrong. So silly of me to miscalculate your acts of chivalry."
"I already told you," Malfoy retorted nastily, "Mudbloods don't deserve manners."
Hermione was fuming. It took everything in her not to just march back through the portrait hole and forget about the whole ball. The idea was most appealing, but that would be admitting defeat. And that she would not do. Malfoy would not ruin her night. She would just have to make the best of it.
"Let's just get this over with," she snapped, and took off toward the Great Hall without a backwards glance.
Despite being in heels, she arrived at the Great Hall before Malfoy, who had followed reluctantly, cursing the entire way under his breath—she would have to check a mirror to make sure he hadn't actually cursed her in some horrific way.
Now that she was actually here, Hermione couldn't help her curiosity; she crept open the doors quietly and gasped.
Gold and silver flamed candles were floating over the unusually darkened hall. A large crystal pumpkin filled with white roses levitated in the center of the room. White rose petals were falling from the ceiling like it was snowing, dissolving before hitting the ground. Instead of the usual four long house tables, the hall was masked with about forty round tables, each decorated with golden plates and goblets, light orange silken tablecloths, and a beautiful crystal pumpkin centerpiece. The staff table remained in its usual position, though it too was decorated to match the guest tables.
Knights in shining armor were stationed around the room, surveying the hall, as if on duty. The house ghosts circled throughout the hall with amazement and awe, admiring the décor and lavish.
Hermione smiled widely. The hall looked absolutely perfect—she couldn't have done a better job herself. She closed the doors slowly and turned to see Malfoy standing unusually close. She jumped back in surprise.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, with a hint of amusement.
"You don't have to be so scornful all the time, Malfoy. Even you should appreciate the magic of that room," she said, gesturing to the hall with a tilt of her head.
"Whatever, Granger." He shook his head and took a seat on the bench across from the doors to the hall.
Hermione stared for a moment, and then casually slid into the seat next to him. She scooted as far away as she could, and the two fell into silence. She picked at her mask, her dress, anything to fill the time. Malfoy seemed content with the silence, so she snapped her mouth shut and waited as patiently as she could.
Thirty minutes later, guests started to arrive. Eddie had only just passed over the official guest list, filled with each guest name and a table number. Hermione noticed several names were crossed out, as others were added. She was to validate the guests' invitations while Malfoy showed them to the table. Of course, he had refused point blank until McGonagall arrived, threatening to take away his Prefect badge for not being more respectful.
"As Miss Granger is the lady, it is advised she be the hostess while you, Mr. Malfoy, will show the guests to their tables, like a gentlemen," McGonagall had said.
Even now, the words were still fresh in Hermione's mind and she couldn't hide her smug smile. Seeing Draco Malfoy, the epitome of Pureblood superiority, act as something lower class, such as a butler or host, was worth the name calling and the lack of politeness any time.
"Hi Hermione," said a pretty girl dressed in gold. "Here's our invitation."
It took Hermione a moment to recognize her. "Parvati, is that you? You look lovely!"
"You too, Hermione!" Parvati gushed. "That dress is stunning. So, where do we go now?"
"You and Seamus are at…" she started, checking the long list, "table twenty one. Malfoy will show you the way."
Hermione could feel his angry stare so she simply bit her lip to refrain from laughing. Might as well not add coal to the fire.
Her mood shifted several couple's later.
"Ginny! Harry, look at you! Your hair is actually…staying down somewhat," she said, laughing.
"Thanks, I think." He grinned at her. "You look great. I don't think I'd have known it was you if I didn't know you were checking us in," he said, handing her their invitation.
Ginny leaned in close and whispered, "Has Astoria checked in yet?"
"Not yet," replied Hermione. "Only Daphne and some seventh year—Oliver Dawson, if I remember correctly."
"I wish I could see her face when she sees that dress," said Ginny, disappointed.
"Yes, well, you need to get in there, the queue is getting longer! You two are at table five. Have fun!" she said brightly, gesturing them to move toward Malfoy.
"Do I look like another one of the 'golden protectors' for the chosen one? I'm not escorting Potter," Malfoy hissed, completely disregarding the fact that Harry was standing right there.
Hermione opened her mouth but Ginny beat her to it. "We wouldn't expect that from you, Malfoy," she said coolly. "See you, Hermione."
With that, Ginny led Harry through the hall before he could react.
"Honestly Malfoy, stop being such a prat," Hermione whispered, as another couple stepped forward.
"Here Hermione," said the dreamy voice that could only belong to Luna. Even with a mask, she was still recognizable with her traditional radish earrings and newly crafted charm filled necklace. Her bright orange robes brought on the full effect of Halloween, mirroring Neville's black ones.
"How'd you recognize me?" Hermione asked, a bit disappointed. Or did Luna remember she was checking in guests? Perhaps Hermione had told her.
"Oh, it was too obvious. Nargles—this hall is full of them. They were floating close to your face, revealing who you really are," said Luna seriously, patting Hermione on the back. "I'm sorry to say your mask is no longer effective. Hopefully no one else will notice."
Neville looked a little uncomfortable but Hermione was grinning. Luna was something else.
"Have a nice time you, two. You're at table five with Harry and Ginny."
"It's just like being at dinner with friends. How neat," said Luna serenely.
And there it was—Luna Lovegood's knack for making uncomfortable statements.
"Seriously?" said Malfoy in disbelief. He seemed to have heard the entire conversation. "Merlin Longbottom, even I thought you had higher standards than that."
"Shove off, Malfoy," said Neville quietly, glancing at his feet. Luna wasn't paying a bit of attention; she was too busy peering around the entrance hall.
Hermione gave Malfoy the nastiest look she could muster—which must have done the trick because he simply shook his head and led Neville and Luna toward their table without another word.
Check in seemed to go smoothly. Only three students tried to get in that were not on the list, and they were too scared of Hermione to try much harder than get past her. Cormac had, naturally, flirted with her despite the fact that he had brought his own date, Fiona. Cho Chang ended up canceling her invitation with Blaise Zabini and came with Elliot Nolting, a seventh year Ravenclaw. The other Prefect's arrived and Hermione completely ignored Ron, still irritated with him.
Zacharias Smith ended up bringing Lavender Brown. Hermione thought they might make a decent couple, as both were annoying and self-centered. Terry Boot, whom Lavender was supposed to be going with, had brought Jane Phelps, a Hufflepuff that was supposed to be going with Zacharias. It was all too complicated for her liking.
"My, oh my, that dress sure is lovely."
Hermione turned her attention to the dark haired witch wearing a beautiful emerald gown. Hermione recognized that deceptively sweet voice at once. She didn't want to admit it, but Astoria had found a beautiful replacement of a gown. Though emerald was not Hermione's favorite color, the way it clung to Astoria's perfect body was a little depressing. Her arm was linked into Blaise Zabini's. He too was garbed in emerald.
"Which is why I bought it," said Hermione brightly, glancing back down at her list. She could feel movement behind her, and knew it was Malfoy.
"Draco," Astoria greeted politely. "I do hope you'll save me a dance."
Hermione kept focused on the list, though her ears were straining to hear every word, and her eyes didn't seem to move from one spot.
"Astoria," replied Malfoy, his tone blank and emotionless, "I think we both know that's not going to happen. I thought you were going with that Chang girl, Blaise?"
Malfoy's tone with Blaise was much friendlier than it was to Astoria, changing almost immediately. Hermione had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing.
"I convinced Blaise I would be a better date than that girl," Astoria cut in. "Honestly, all she does is whine over that Cedric Diggerly or whatever his name was." It was her tone, not her words, that caused Hermione to snap.
"How dare you," she hissed, anger radiating through her body. "His name was Cedric Diggory. Diggory! He was killed simply because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time! And you sit here and insult him!"
Hermione was so angry at this girl that she was shaking. It was one thing to taunt her, but to insult a boy who was dead? A boy who was murdered by Peter Pettigrew at the whim of Voldemort's orders? It was cruel and sick.
"You know, I really do feel sorry for you, Malfoy," she added coldly, glancing his way.
His arms were crossed tightly, and his brows were raised slightly in surprise. Whether at what she had just said or her ranting, she did not know or care, for the matter.
"You think he cares about some Hufflepuff nobody? Even I know he cares about himself more than anything or anyone else," said Astoria, laughing bitterly. "No offense, Draco. That's not a bad thing."
Hermione was still so worked up that the words flew from her mouth before she could even think about them. "I think he cares more than you think."
Astoria stopped laughing at once, like she had been slapped. Hermione immediately regretted what she had said—how on earth was that going to sound?
"Table thirty," she snapped, glancing back down at the list as Astoria and Blaise left her sight.
After all the guests were checked in, Hermione and Malfoy made their way through the crowded hall toward table one. The Prefects, along with Katie and Eddie, were seated the closest to the staff table. There were two seats left at their table, one by Ron and one by Hannah. Hermione moved at lightning speed for the seat next to Hannah. Malfoy shot her a nasty glare before being forced to sit next to Ron. The two exchanged more nasty glares.
As soon as they were seated, Dumbledore rose from his throne and the room was silenced. He wore a new set of jet black robes that contrasted nicely with his silvery mane. His smile sparkled through the dim hall, lighting up the room in a way the sun could never do.
"Good evening! Our head boy, along with the sixth year prefects, has wonderfully put this event together. You will see your menu card on your plate. After my speech, simply announce which entrée you desire and it will appear. After the feast, the ball will resume until midnight. Now, let us feast and enjoy this evening!"
The room erupted in applause as Dumbledore sat back down. Hermione grabbed her menu and scanned her options. After hearing Eddie announce he wanted 'option three' the other's followed suit.
"One, please," said Hermione kindly, as if she were addressing a waiter.
Next moment, her plate filled with roast beef, creamy corn, and garlic mashed potatoes. One of the knights filled her goblet with pumpkin juice. She heard Ron's animalistic chomps ripple the chattering table.
"Switch me seats. Weasley's making me sick," Malfoy muttered to her, just low enough for her to hear. She stole a quick glance at Ron, and had to suppress a laugh.
"Never," she whispered back, a smug smile playing on her lips. Malfoy glared at her and stabbed a fork into his pork with a bit too much hostility.
"Hey Granger," said a reluctant voice from across the table.
Hermione's head shot up from her food in surprise. Pansy was staring at her expectantly, without a trace of malice or resentfulness. The table had gone silent; even Ron had postponed the meeting of his asparagus and his mouth.
"Yes…?" Hermione asked tentatively.
"I heard what you did," said Pansy. Her voice was still bitter and a little harsh, but there was something else in it too.
"What I did…?" Hermione was confused. What had she done? Her palms were beginning to feel sweaty as everyone stared anxiously at her.
"What you said to Astoria Greengrass. Even though you're a Mudblood and I don't like you, it was…good, what you did," she replied nonchalantly.
Hermione didn't know what to say. This was the most she ever heard Pansy Parkinson say that wasn't in some form of an insult. So she simply nodded her thanks, and everyone quietly went back to their meal.
Throughout dinner the Prefect's chattered animatedly. Hermione couldn't believe it; everyone actually sounded almost like friends. Though Pansy was still somewhat distant, she was not as rude as usual and even Malfoy attempted to be civil. He and Ron sat as far away from each other as they possibly could, which made Hermione feel a bit uncomfortable at Malfoy's closeness. Their arms were almost touching and as crazy as that sounded, she could feel the heat in that arm.
After the last of the puddings were gone, Dumbledore rose from his throne once more. "If I could have your attention. Please, everyone stand," he said, smiling widely and gesturing they stand up. He waved his wand and the tables disappeared at once, leaving about ten or fifteen along the edges of the hall.
"Mr. Carmichael and Prefect's, will you please take your positions to open the ball."
Hermione nodded to herself in reassurance, as though Dumbledore had spoken to her only. It's going to be fine. It's going to be fine, she repeated over and over. It was only one dance. Perhaps after they opened the ball, Hermione and Malfoy could go their separate ways and dance with whoever they wanted, and things didn't have to get awkward. But who would she dance with?
Hermione didn't realize she was still sitting in her seat until a pale hand reached out to her.
"Shall we dance, Granger?"
"Do I have a choice?" she asked, almost smiling.
"No." He reached down, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to her feet.
Malfoy walked a bit too quickly, but none the less, didn't let go of her hand as they moved toward the center of the Great Hall. It was now completely open, everyone else standing along the edge, waiting. Hermione was so anxious about the first dance that she missed the Weird Sisters enter the hall. They now stood on a platform where the staff table normally sat.
Professor McGonagall stood in front of the Weird Sisters, facing the Prefect's, her wand raised. Hermione took in a shaky breath as the professor lifted her arms. The room was silent that Hermione could hear her own shaky breathing. It felt like everyone was staring at them. With Krum, they had been friends, so she wasn't quite as nervous. This was different. This was Malfoy.
Hermione forced her eyes from the floor and glanced around the hall. It was a mistake. Everyone was staring at them. She found the safety of Ginny's gaze, who was not looking at her like everyone else with accusing and scandalizing eyes, but with courage and reassurance. Ginny gave a small smile and nod, as if to say you can do this. Harry looked tense and nervous at her side, but he didn't scowl or look irritated.
This alone gave her the courage to place her hand on Malfoy's shoulder—this support from her friends.
A hand went around her waist and pulled her closer.
"Don't look at the crowd," Malfoy murmured, just as the music began.
Hermione looked up at him. Somehow, it was easier than staring at the crowd. The soft melody hummed in her ears. She kept counting in her head, staying focused, until finally she stopped, just trusting Malfoy to lead. He gave her tiny, almost knowing smile. As they waltzed around the room perfectly, she thanked Merlin for giving her a strong and experienced partner.
The last tune of the music softened and the crowd erupted in applause. Hermione beamed at the astonished faces of her classmates. Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling and McGonagall couldn't have looked more proud. Hermione gave a polite bow, as the Weird Sisters took over a loud and upbeat song. The hall was soon swarmed with the other students ready to dance the night away.
Hermione wasn't sure what to do next. She wasn't good at this type of thing. She relayed on books and logic, following the path of what made the most sense. Right now, she just didn't know what she should be doing.
She turned to look at Malfoy, about to ask if he wanted to dance, but the look on his face stopped the words from forming. He looked guilty, but only for a second. He blinked and the look vanished.
"Is something—"
"Go have fun with your friends, Granger."
"What are you going to do?" she asked. Logic and reason had left her—she didn't know why she was asking. It made sense to ask, but it didn't make sense to care. And for some reason, she did.
"I have an obligation," he said coldly.
Hermione stared at him, only a moment, before it clicked. Astoria. Of course.
"Well, of course you do," she replied, trying to sound neutral, but failing miserably. She adjusted her mask and started to turn back to the crowd, when Malfoy said,
"It's not what you think."
She paused, her back still facing him. Then, casually, she shrugged, and her shoulders felt like ice. "I wasn't thinking anything."
When he said nothing to that, Hermione vanished into the crowd of dancers.
She spent the next few hours dancing with anyone she could. She couldn't tell one person from the next, but she recognized Seamus's goofy laugh when he came up behind her. She didn't see Malfoy once as she continued to move her body with the melody of the upbeat songs. The music pounded in her ears, and in a good way, she began to forget about everything. The music let her let go and feel free, for the first time in months.
The Weird Sisters announced the final song as the tempo slowed. Couples surrounding Hermione closed in, making her feel slightly uncomfortable. Breathless, she moved away from the crowd, pushing her way through. She smiled as she walked past Luna and Neville—and froze on the spot. Arms intertwined and bodies mashed together were Ron and Lavender, both oblivious to the rest of the world as they kissed.
Hermione just…blanked. There was an odd sense of what felt like betrayal, but that made no sense. Ron was not her boyfriend. She knew he had snogged Lavender, but she hadn't seen it, not like this.
And she didn't expect it to hurt this much.
She took a step back, as though she had been slapped, and immediately started to run—and slammed into a hard body.
Hermione just knew who it was, and she didn't care. She gripped the collar of his robes and buried her face into his chest, well aware that he may just shove her away. At this point, she didn't care. She just wanted to erase the image she had just seen.
But Malfoy didn't push her away, and he didn't comfort her, either. He just stood there. After Hermione was sure she was not going to cry, she pulled back to look up at him. He was staring down at her with something along the lines of pity, and that only made her angry. She didn't want his pity.
She just needed to yell at someone.
"And where have you been?" she accused.
"You're hair is caught in your mask."
"You're a Prefect," she scolded, and damn it, her voice was starting to shake from holding back tears. "It's rude to just disappear when you're supposed to be here."
"I know." He reached out and adjusted her mask, pulling her curls loosely away from her face, but she didn't seem to notice.
"You can't just leave whenever you want."
"I know."
"And it's just…I thought…I can't…"
She didn't know what to say, she didn't know what she meant.
"I know" He pulled her into a tight embrace. The weight of everything seemed to crash down on her and her legs practically gave out. She just let him hold her. "I know," he murmured again into her hair, and somehow, that was enough.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Glad to see that many of my old readers have found me! Welcome to the revamped version. :)
Marissa: "I don't know if I want to read the new chapters of Changing Fate again, ONLY because I can't bear to think of anything being different." - There aren't many differences, basically me tidying up my writing. Also, there were some scenes that weren't as in character as they could have been, so I did edit those. I want to make this story the best that I can. :)
anon: "I don't know if tjis makes sense but in this story I feel like I hate Draco, in a good way. I feel like he's this really annoying person that you just want to shove." - That's definitely the effect he has, haha.