Just an extended version. I was only limited with 1000 words for the challenge so here's the original fic before many hours of editing hahaha!
I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER, JUST USING THE CHARACTERS FOR MY CREATIVE OUTLET.
Upon the staggering amounts of assignments and chores, Hermione Granger only had a scarce bit of time for herself. Hogwarts was merciless with her duties as Head Girl, but her Stepmother and Stepsisters made Hogwarts seem soft. The constant taunting and torturous ways because of her blood never fazed her; it only made her more proud of whom she was. Though she never complained nor faltered in performance, selflessness came naturally to her. Less is said of her stepfamily. Petunia, her stepmother, succumbed to sweet murmurs from less suitable men. Pansy and Lavender (Pansy made sure Hermione understood alphabetical means to address both herself and her sister was nonsense), her stepsisters were, for lack of better term, very dimwitted. They required the highest and outrages means to satisfy their spoiled needs. Hermione never allowed them to dig under her skin, as much as she wanted to retaliate for their poor attempts to outwit her. She merely bit her tongue and abide their commands. Magic sorely made them smug and it tempted her to not use it unless compelled.
As far as cliché goes, she hadn't met 'the one' she so longed for. She smiled at the memory of her mother reading her Muggle tales of princesses falling for the prince on their noble steed and her father reassuring her one day her prince will come. Of course it's rubbish to her now (she would not admit anytime soon she was a hopeless romantic), but then it seemed the only magic her parents allowed her to feel. Her parents were of an enigma to her. For as far as she can remember, her parents never used or touched anything magic. She never understood why then, but recollecting on it now made it seem clearer to her. The thought of magic merely unnerved them. Their constant sought of normalcy was, granted, worrying and doubt crossed her mind once in awhile, but questioned it she dared not. She missed them so much.
Hermione yawned. She finished her assignments from Professor McGonagall. She was very ruthless when it came down to the nitty-gritty of topics for Transfiguration and Hermione admired her more. She had hoped the assignment would have been finished an hour or so earlier to catch up on much needed sleep, but she was distracted. Earlier in the day, an owl delivered her a modest letter. Her heart panged heavily against her ribcage as to contain its excitement. The modest of letters meant an invite to the Malfoy Manor. She can recall the gossip floating about Hogwarts that Malfoy Manor had the most exquisite balls any person would dream of attending, much less invited. She didn't skip a beat to open the letter and read it to herself, then read it aloud for clarification. Her stepfamily and herself were invited to the Masquerade Ball tomorrow evening. She curled her lips in as an attempt to hide her smile at Narcissa's fascination of the Renaissance Era. Narcissa Malfoy was anything but modest. Granted Hermione felt she may not fit in, she desperately wanted to attend. The thought of mingling with different people from different countries enthralled her thirst for knowledge.
The morning of the Ball arrived much too slow. Hermione rose out of bed with a skip to her step, tending to her morning routine in an elated mood. She opened the door to find her stepsisters hovering over her, their eyes far more mischievous to her comfort. "And why are you so happy, dear sister?" Lavender questioned. Her high pitch rang against Hermione's ears sharply. "I've been invited to the Ball so, I must be ready." Pansy's laugh ever so slightly quashed Hermione's good mood. The prat had finesse to quell anything happy. Hermione's dry sense of humor suggested Pansy a Dementor in her past life.
"You? Go the Ball? Have you gone mad? The letter clearly states—"
"Ms. Lavender Brown, Ms. Petunia Evans, Ms. Hermione Granger, and Ms. Pansy Parkinson requested to attend," Hermione interrupted.
She made no attempt to hide her smirk at Pansy's glowering glare for listing her as last. Lavender glanced quickly down the hall and smiled at Hermione too sweetly. Petunia strode down the hall with eerie grace, her robes engulfing her every step. She resembled a Death Eater manifesting towards her. Hermione winced at the invasion of her personal space. Petunia raised a thin eyebrow impatiently. "We've no time for quarrels. We must prepare for the Ball tonight and the finest gentlemen will not tolerate less from you lot," Petunia addressed Pansy and Lavender strictly. It came to no surprise Hermione's existence was, well, nonexistent. Her surprise, however, were Petunia's eyes on her as she frowned. She cleared her throat and Hermione braced herself. "Hermione. The errands have been neglected. See to it they are tended too immediately. Time is running short," Hermione looked at her, bewildered at her request. "Mother… if I were to do the errands, I won't have time to prepare for the Ball."
Hermione soon regretted her words. Petunia laughed lightly at the very idea. She shook her head and glared down her Hermione, all humor diminished. "The Ball is of pureblood. You, my pet, are not to attend. Your filthy blood might…" Petunia trailed off, her frown deepening to a hideous scowl, "muck the Malfoy Manor into shambles. Why, my name shall be forever shamed! You don't want that, now, do you? Enough of this nonsense and attend to your duties at once." Petunia left no room for Hermione to argue. As Petunia walked down the hall, Pansy and Lavender followed before glancing smugly at her. Once they were out of her sight, she stepped back into her room. Tears burned against the rims of her eyes and she bit her lip to suppress them. She will not allow them to win.
She threw on her outer cloak and grabbed a basket for her errands. As silly as it was to admit to herself, she liked running errands. It was the only time to herself to enjoy the surroundings outside her home. Once she walked passed her stepfamily sitting in the living room, completely ignoring her thankfully, and walked down the path leading to the Market Place, she allowed herself to be elated again. The hustling and bustling of people bought her peace of mind as she drowned deeper and deeper to the talk of the streets. A quick glisten from an alleyway caught her eye. She glanced left to right to see if anyone else noticed that quick spill of light. Curiosity won and bested her better judgment. Once she stepped out the alleyway, she easily spotted the spill of light in the crowd. It was a person. 'No, a gentleman', Hermione thought. She wondered what kind of gentleman he was to have such distinctive features. His blonde, nearly silver, hair shone against the sunlight and a swift peek at his gray eyes was daunting. Never has she met someone so… unusual. She didn't feel alone in that aspect, but it undoubtedly piqued her fancy.
As if sensing her eyes on him, he turned slightly to acknowledge Hermione. She stopped in mid-breathe and froze. Captivated by his eyes, she mustered all the willpower she could and turned to leave through the alleyway. Halfway through, she felt a hand grip her elbow. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the contact. "Forgive me, but… do I know you? Your eyes tell me we've met before." His voice was pleasant to her ears. She carefully turned to look at him. He was tall compared to her and she couldn't help, but stare into his eyes. A few minutes passed before she answered, "I don't believe we've met. I'm sorry if I so rudely stared at you," she spoke softly. Oddly the crowds' hubbub didn't reach in the alley and the silence was calming. He hummed in response as he released her elbow. He fixed his rolled up sleeve as it was coming undone. "Don't be. It was refreshing to have someone see me instead of looking through me." She exhaled a breathe in humor, smiling at the irony of his words. He glanced at her and smiled too. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Draco and you are?" He held his hand out to her to take. She stared at his hand and hesitantly took it. "Hermione. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
He bent low to kiss her hand, keeping his eyes on her. Heat rushed to her cheeks and ears at the intimate gesture. He stood up straight, but kept her hand in his, rubbing his thumb against it. She admired his chivalry and wanted to know more about him, but the smirk on his lips proved her better judgment as always correct. "I do hope I'm not limited as an acquaintance, but more if you allow me," he said with a hint of mischief in his tone. She curled her lips in and the heat made her hands perspire. She felt self-conscious and tried tugging her hand out of his grasp, but to no avail. She exhaled sharply and broke her gaze upon him. "I-I… suppose it's alright." Air rushed back into her lungs as Draco's hand tipped her chin towards him, his face ever so close to hers. Their noses barely touched and his eyes were slightly lidded, looking at her intently. "Very well. Will you come to the Ball? Tonight? I will not take no for an answer." Draco was not a man of shy mannerisms. He seemed, from a distance, a gentleman who kept to himself. He must have seen the slight hesitation in her eyes once he leaned his forehead against hers gently. "Please, Hermione." He spoke her name so delicately it sent her heart panging harder against her ribcage. She swallowed and closed her eyes, suddenly remembering her stepfamily.
"I was told I was not invited,"
"By whom? I want to see you again,"
"Draco—"
"Hermione, there isn't one good reason of why you cannot—"
"I'm of different blood…"
Hermione dared not open her eyes. Draco hadn't moved and her hand was still in his. He gazed at her more intently, willing her to open her eyes. He took her other hand in his and pulled them close to his chest, drawing her closer to him. Her eyes snapped open and she felt his body against hers. He was so warm compared to his pale complexion and his breath tickled her lips. She quickly glanced at his lips, then his eyes searching for answers to the rapid questions in her mind. "Don't speak such rubbish! I can assure you I do not and will not believe in such prejudice. I choose to further my acquaintance with you, not judged by blood or any sort, but…" Draco trailed off, smiling softly. He pulled back to kiss her forehead, "to have those beautiful eyes for myself because, in all my years, has anyone ever looked at me like you have." Hermione slowly smiled. She gave his hands a gentle squeeze before leaning on her toes to kiss his cheek. "I accept your invitation. I hope to see you the moment I enter through the door," she whispered only for Draco to hear. He chuckled and craned his neck to kiss her bare shoulder. "Not a second later, love. Not a second later."
Hermione relished him leaning closely against her. She fit so well against him and she didn't want to leave, Merlin smite her stepfamily. She nuzzled against him carefully, which caused him to groan. She nearly jumped away from him, terrified she may have stepped out of bounds, but Draco held her in place. "A misunderstanding, Hermione. You merely made it difficult for me to part ways with you," he said, smiling down at her. She sighed in relief, but soon regretted it once he released her hands and stepped back. She was about to speak, but closed her mouth once Draco fished for something in his blazer. He pulled out a perfect green apple and gently tossed it in her basket. She looked down at the basket nestled near her feet and wondered when she dropped it. She looked up at him and smiled happily. "So, this is what makes life divine." Draco tipped his head and grinned. She nearly laughed at the amused, yet confused look in his eyes. She shook her head as she picked up her basket. "Draco, you are a fine mystery, but I bid you adieu," she said, taking her leave. "What do you mean?" He asked after her. He knew that if he grabbed for her again for answers, he would never leave and she too. She turned her head slightly and smiled at him over her shoulder. "Tonight, Draco." Before turning the corner, Hermione heard Draco's laugh and his distant footsteps leaving the alley as well. She dreamt about miracles for as long as she can remember, but it never dawned on her that miracles could be reality.