A/N: Hi guys, I'm alive! lol Sorry that took so long. This chapter is kind of short, I know. I was going to combine it with the next one, but I think it works better separately. That means a much quicker update next time though. :D Enjoy!
Chapter 20 - Potions and Parties
Those who were not staying at Hogwarts for Christmas had left for the holidays—several students and staff would be catching the train tomorrow. The hassle was because of Slughorn's party this evening. Hermione had walked down to breakfast earlier than usual. Part of it was the excitement of the party, but she had Crookshanks to thank for a poor night's rest.
Ron was forced to stay an extra day since Ginny was invited to the party. Perhaps it was childish, but this sentiment brightened Hermione's mood ever so slightly. Lavender had left for the holidays, and both Harry and Hermione, along with Ginny, would be attending the party without him.
She passed few students through the corridors and gave a sleepy wave to Professor Flitwick, who was busy mending a suit of armor that had a Christmas wreath stuck around its head. When she arrived in the Great Hall, she took a seat at the Gryffindor table. No sooner had she began filling her plate with bacon and eggs did Harry and Ginny arrive—and when Hermione noticed they arrived together, she smiled widely.
"Good morning," she said pleasantly. She took a bite of egg, still smiling.
Harry, suddenly, looked extremely small standing there in a red Weasley jumper. He ran a hand behind his neck and said, "I'm just…going to ask Seamus something."
Ginny was far more casual, and took a seat next to Hermione. She grabbed a piece of toast and started to slather it in butter.
"Well?" demanded Hermione, raising her eyebrows.
"Well what?" Ginny said through a mouthful of toast.
"You know what! Are you going to Slughorn's party with Harry?"
"No." There was a small hint of sadness in Ginny's voice. "I told Dean I'd bring him along. He seems to think Slughorn doesn't like him for some reason…"
"That's too bad," said Hermione, glancing at Harry down the table.
"Which part?"
"Both," said Hermione. She took another bite of eggs as the Great Hall swarmed with the morning post. She glanced up at the owl that landed in front of her and grabbed the prophet from the owl's leg. Then she placed a knut in its pouch and opened the prophet to scan the front page.
"Anything new?" asked Ginny.
Hermione hesitated and re-read the headline twice before speaking, quietly enough not to draw attention. "Mr. Ollivander's missing…"
"What?" Ginny nearly choked out.
"It says he was reported missing three days ago after he didn't return from his shop. The Ministry checked for a sign of struggle or attack, but found nothing."
"That can't be good," muttered Ginny.
She shook her head. No, it can't, she agreed silently.
The flash of something bright red and shiny caught her eye a few feet away and Hermione glanced up. Harry was tearing open a box in brightly wrapped red paper. It took her a moment to recognize the box: Turkish Delights.
Turkish…Oh!
With reflexes of a cat, she shouted "Harry, no!" and dove from her seat toward him, knocking into him so hard he dropped the box.
The Gryffindor table quieted a moment—some stared for far too long—before going back to their conversations and plates of food.
"What was that for?" Harry asked, straightening in his seat. He shot her an exasperated look.
"You can't eat those!"
"Hermione, are you mad?" asked Harry, fighting a laugh while picking up the box.
"No, I'm not!" she shouted again, snatching the box out of his hands. She leaned closer to him and lowered her voice. "Harry, they're spiked with love potion."
His smile slowly faded as he took in Hermione's serious and slightly red face. "What?" he asked hesitantly.
Hermione sighed as she stood and pulled Harry away from curious eyes.
"I overheard Lavender and Romilda Vain—you know, that dark haired girl in Ginny's year?—in the bathroom last night. She said she was going to give you a box of Turkish Delights filled with love potion."
Harry's eyes were wide with shock. "She said that?"
"More or less."
He groaned and sat back down, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands. "She's bloody mental. And did you know?" he began, his head perking up. "She's been following me! Trying to corner me under the mistletoe."
"Why don't you just ask someone already!"
"Maybe if I just…"
"No," Hermione told him firmly. "You are not getting out of this, Harry. I already told you Slughorn planned this around your schedule so you could be there."
He groaned again. "I dunno who to ask! It's not like I can ask you or Ginny. And I'm definitely not asking Cho."
Hermione gave him stern look. "Harry, the party's tonight. You need to get a move on."
"I know," he grumbled. Then he sat back and took a long swig of pumpkin juice. Hermione almost felt sorry for him.
Several hours later, she was scurrying through her room, trying to get ready for Slughorn's party. It was nearly fifteen till eight and Cormac would arrive soon. Hermione decided not to wear the same gown she wore for the Halloween Ball, but a sleek black dress she brought from home. It was simple, a light peach knee length dress with a slightly deep v-cut that flared out from her waist. She pulled her curly hair halfway up and added a touch of light make-up.
After securing a pearl necklace around her neck, she stood in the Prefect Common Room, waiting for a knock at the door. It was forty after eight and still no Cormac.
Of course he's late, thought Hermione bitterly. To her, it was unacceptable, even if this wasn't exactly a date. The only other Prefect invited was Ernie and he had already left for the party with Hannah, leaving Hermione all alone. She ran her hands over the dress, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles. Waiting was making her fidgety, and she could not decide if she should continue to stand or sit.
She had decided to find a chair—her heels were unbearably uncomfortable—just as the sound of the Hogwarts Crest swinging open made her jump. Malfoy stepped out, wearing a solid black suit that seemed tailored to him perfectly. She didn't even know he was still here, let alone that he was in his room.
"What are you still doing here?" demanded Hermione.
"It's just too hard for you, isn't it?"
She knew she shouldn't take the bait, but she did anyway. "What is?"
"Keeping your nose out of other peoples' business."
"For your information—"
There was a knock at the door, and for a moment both of them froze. Then Hermione gathered her wits and grinned, hoping—despite normal circumstances—that it was Cormac at the door.
"Who's that?" Malfoy said, in the same tone Hermione had used earlier.
"Now whose minding who's business?" she teased, crossing the room to open the door.
Standing there was Cormac McLaggen, wearing platinum robes and shiny black shoes that gave off the impression of a wealthy aristocrat. There was no denying how handsome he looked, and the smile he flashed Hermione made her melt just a little.
Why did he have to be so annoying and rude?
"You look lovely," said Cormac, reaching forward and brushing his lips against her knuckles.
"Well, I certainly had plenty of time to get ready," she muttered under her breath.
Hermione had nearly forgotten Malfoy was still in the room, but when Cormac pulled her forward and the portrait swung shut, she turned just in time to catch him. He had turned around so that all she saw was the back of his head, his hands fisted in his pockets.
Cormac was saying something—well, he had been talking nonstop since they left—and Hermione shook her head to clear it before she said, "Sorry, what did you say?"
"I asked if you saw the Gryffindor Quidditch match against Slytherin," said Cormac. They descended the spiral staircase, heading to Slughorn's office.
"Of course, didn't you thi—"
"The score would have been a larger blow out if I was playing instead of Weasley," interrupted Cormac. "Well, Ron Weasley that is. I've been on a broomstick since I was four years old and my father had…."
Hermione sighed as Cormac droned on and on about Quidditch and himself. This was going to be a long night indeed, no matter how good looking he was.
It took ten minutes to get to sixth floor when it should have taken no more than five. Hermione felt as if she knew so much about Cormac that she could fill an entire column at the Daily Prophet. She was astounded how much information one person could dish out about themselves in only ten minutes. She could have sworn he walked extra slow, just to keep talking about himself. A quick thought had entertained her: She could have asked Malfoy instead. At least she got to speak, even if was an insult.
Not all manners were dead to him though, and Cormac opened the door when they arrived at Slughorn's office. Stepping inside, she immediately felt as if she was inside a Christmas shop.
Emerald, scarlet, and gold tapestries draped around the room, and large golden spheres hung from the ceiling and cast a soft glow around the room. Hermione thought Slughorn's office looked quite a bit larger than most of the other teacher's. She wondered if he had transfigured it purposely for the party with a powerful Enlargement Charm. A long golden buffet table lavished with food and colorful bowls of punch sat in the corner. The music the live band was playing was magnified due to the closeness and crowded room and below, tiny house elves maneuvered and squeaked their way through the room carrying silver platters filled with gold goblets. There were more than just students here, too. A swarm of purple smoke surrounded a group of elderly warlocks, and far in the darkest corner of the room where several pale—too pale—and tall figures that distinctly looked like vampires.
It was a relief, Hermione thought, knowing she could easily escape in the crowd.
"Why don't you let Professor Slughorn know were here," she said to Cormac loudly, over the crowd and the music. "I'm going to get some punch and I'll meet you both."
Cormac nodded and began to make his way through the crowded room. Hermione felt guilty only a moment before she took off in the opposite direction, pushing and bumping her way through.
Hermione spent the next twenty minutes ducking through the crowd, searching for her friends. She had been prepared to avoid Cormac the rest of the night, but when she accidently bumped into him, he was deep in conversation with a pair of warlocks. He barely gave her a second glance. He didn't seem to miss her company at all, and for a reason she knew she had no right to, it made Hermione even angrier. She was already upset about the house elves being used for the party, but having a date—a date she didn't even want—ditch her somehow made it all worse.
She was beginning to think she should have just stayed in her room when she heard someone shouting her name. Hermione wheeled around and smiled in relief when a pair of familiar green eyes greeted her.
"Harry, there you are!" she gushed. "Oh and you brought Luna! So glad to see you both."
They were a sight to behold. Harry looked handsome in his plain (but nice) robes, but Luna was glowing in a canary yellow dress. And were those radishes in her ears?
Harry, smiling, glanced over Hermione's shoulder, then settled back to her. "Where's Cormac?"
"Cormac? Oh, he's…" she looked around, as if the answer was in reaching distance. "He's getting some punch."
"Does the punch have red hair?" Harry asked dully. He was staring at something over her shoulder. Reluctantly, she turned and followed his gaze. Cormac was bent over a short redhead from Ravenclaw, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he spoke in her ear.
"Ah." It was all Hermione could say.
"There's Professor Trelawney" said Luna. Hermione was grateful for the interruption into her humiliation. Luna was pointing to a witch dressed in layered shawls and bangles, her eyes magnifying to the size of tennis balls due to her glasses, "…Oh, she looks quite lonely. Should we go say hello?"
Harry opened his mouth, looking torn. He hated being near Trelawney, as she had a knack for predicting his death every time he was around. Hermione thought Divination, a subject closely related to psychic readings and crystal ball gazing, was silly and pointless and Trelawney was an old fraud.
"Well, go on," said Hermione. She gave Harry a little push, knowing he would do the polite thing and stick by his date, even if Luna was just a friend. Harry gave Hermione a sympathetic look as Luna dragged him away.
Standing awkwardly by herself, Hermione saw Professor Slughorn a few feet away, swaying to the music by himself with his eyes shut, a large mead filled goblet in one hand. After a short hesitation, she pushed her way through the crowd toward him. Slughorn was wearing a set of plum robes and matching hat. One of his black buttons had popped off, and the tassels of his hat lay askew.
"Hello Professor Slughorn, thanks for inviting me," said Hermione loudly, hoping he heard her.
Slughorn jumped in surprise, causing a bit of mead to spill over the floor. "Oho! You startled me my dear! You are most certainly welcome Miss Granger. I'm pleased you were able to make it, have you met—"
Slughorn's question was interrupted by the appearance of a man with greasy hair and bulging eyes. It was Argus Filch, and he was not alone.
"Sorry to intrude Professor Slughorn," wheezed Filch, his hand clutching Malfoy by the front of his robes. "This boy was lurking outside the corridor. Claims to be invited but I didn't find him on the list."
Slughorn opened his mouth to speak, but Filch wouldn't let him get a word in. "That'll be worth twenty points for sneaking around, that will," he said. "Maybe a week's worth of detention. The Headmaster won't be pleased…" Judging by his tone, Filch certainly was.
Hermione, who had been staring in shock with an opened mouth, slammed it shut and said, "He was invited." Filch looked at her unbelievably, and on a spur of the moment, she added, "I—I invited him."
Even Malfoy wasn't guarded enough to hide the flash of surprise in his eyes, but he recovered quickly. "I told…Hermione…"— he said her first name with difficulty— "that I would be late."
Filch looked murderous. "But…but…" he stuttered.
"I thought…I thought Cormac McLaggen told me you came with him…" mumbled Slughorn, scratching his head in disbelief as he turned to Hermione.
Hermione laughed, somewhere between hysterical and nervous. "No, you must have misunderstood."
"This boy was breaking rules, he was!" shouted Filch, beginning to shake with anger and disappointment. But Slughorn held up a hand.
"No harm done, Argus," he said. "Miss Granger was permitted to bring a guest. Mr. Malfoy is a worthy choice…a worthy choice."
"My family always speaks so highly of you sir," said Malfoy, his voice dripping with admiration. "I believe you knew my grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy?"
"Yes of course," said Slughorn brightly. "Still an official in the Ministry?"
"Indeed," said Malfoy. "He recently signed a new act I think you might enjoy regarding the Wolfsbane Potion. I will have father send you one of the first copies."
Slughorn beamed and patted Malfoy on the back. Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. A typical Slytherin slithering their way out of trouble.
Filch was still stuttering, red in the face and furious. "Ah come now, Argus," said Slughorn, slapping him on the back. "Let us not interrupt the blooming of young love!"
Hermione tried hard to smile, but her teeth were clenched together as Malfoy placed an arm around her waist. She was about to elbow him in the ribs when, once Slughorn vanished from sight, his arm slide up to grab her arm. He pulled her towards the back of the room with more force than necessary, until they were hidden behind one of the drapes.
"Why did you do that?" he demanded of her.
Hermione crossed her arms. "Is it so hard for you just to thank me?"
"I didn't need your help."
"No, you obviously had the situation handled."
"I did," he snapped.
"Good!" she snapped back. She stormed passed him, got about ten feet away, before whirling back around. "And you know, for a moment before you showed up I actually entertained the thought that maybe I should have asked you to come tonight! Whatever was I thinking?"
Malfoy just stared at her. Then—and she thought she must be imagining it—his expression changed to something like regret. "Granger, I—"
"Mr. Malfoy," a voice cut in. Professor Snape swept passed Hermione and once close enough, grabbed Malfoy by the arm. "I'd like to have a word…Now."
"I thought you might," said Malfoy bitterly. He ripped his arm free and followed Snape from the party, leaving Hermione there, staring after them both in surprise.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, even if it was a little short. One major change is that in the original, Cormac was chasing Hermione all over the place. I liked this version better, with Cormac being the type of person to spend his time talking about himself to anyone who will listen instead of chasing after Hermione all night. :P
Review responses:
please: "you probably wont read this because it's been 3 years but yours is the best dramione ive ever read! PLEASE continue!" - No worries hun! I do not plan on abandoning this. Updates are a little slow, but this story will be fully finished. And I think better in quality than the first time I published it.
Newsie35: "You've done a wonderful job keeping everyone in character as well." - Thank you so much! In the original, I think the characterizations needed some work. I'm hoping to improve that this time around.
ann: "i also hate how ron is sometimes seen as a monster as well, so i just love this slow build. I dont like seeing malfoy becoming a love interest so soon in a story" - YES. I think Malfoy and Hermione fell too quickly the first time I wrote this story (and Ron was not as nice) so I am glad you like the pacing of how it's written now. :D