A/N: There's a couple of flashbacks in here, so I just want to point out that the present day as of this chapter is a Friday.
Thank you to all of my new followers and reviewers, and an extra thanks to those of you who have been reviewing multiple times (you know who you awesome people are!)
Last Day of Term
5 days until the Yule Ball
Well it was official: Hermione was going to the Yule Ball with Draco.
It had been official-official (that is, both parties knew of the arrangement) since Wednesday morning, two days ago and the news was still the hottest school gossip; even talk of the Triwizard Tournament seemed to be put on the backburner when it came to conversation topic. It had also become fairly blatant that Pansy was going to the Ball with Viktor Krum, and yet every tidbit of chatter Hermione would overhear on her way to and from classes revolved around Draco and herself.
Ron, as Hermione assumed, had woken the morning after he first heard the news feeling considerably put out that his two best friends were going to the Ball with Slytherins. The night before, Harry tried to calm him by reiterating what Hermione guessed was the conversation Ginny had overheard. At the time, Ron had accepted it, but he slumped into first lesson on Wednesday moping and brooding. Unbeknownst to his two friends, Ron was actually in deep thought about the situation, not really buying the hormone crap any longer because it was a little too convenient that Harry and Hermione's apparent crushes seemed to be reciprocated.
Ron's distracted thoughts meant that he hadn't been very talkative, and both Harry and Hermione had mistaken his attitude as him giving them the silent treatment. Hermione never liked it when there was tension between the three of them, but she was glad that Ron decided to take this approach instead of the alternative reaction, where he'd make a scene by shouting like the stubborn prat he could be at times.
She was glad because it meant that Ron hadn't been able to inadvertently signal to Draco that she had confirmed she was going to the Ball with him before he even knew about her decision. That would have been considerably awkward for everyone so Hermione had hoped Ron would keep his demeanour up until she had chance to talk to Draco.
Surprisingly she didn't have to wait long, nor did she have to talk to him for that matter. Draco had decided to take matters into his own hands, mainly because Daphne's gloating about going to the Ball with Potter had seriously rattled him, and he couldn't bear the suspense any longer. He scrawled a note onto a scrap of parchment and charmed it to fly across the room to Hermione.
The parchment had elegantly landed on Hermione's desk, and she could only be thankful that she and Draco were seated towards the back of the Transfiguration room. Merlin knows the last thing she needed that day was for McGonagall to catch the two of them passing notes and proceed to read the messages aloud to the class, as she had been known to do in the past.
Hermione had somehow instantly known whom the note was from. She had seen Harry and Ron trying to not so subtly read it out of the corner of their eyes, so she had glared at them and turned away to read the message.
It simply read, "Well?"
It was funny how a single written word could sound so superior and arrogant. If she hadn't known the sender was Draco, that would have been the moment she realised. Hermione could practically hear the word being drawled by him and see the smirk on his face that would undoubtedly accompany it if they were having a vocal conversation and not a written one.
It was now Friday afternoon and Hermione still clearly remembered the event, and how she had locked eyes with Draco a moment later. She had rolled her eyes at him as if to say 'really Malfoy? This couldn't wait another twenty minutes when the lesson ends?' As predicted, he had smirked his response.
Hermione had flipped the parchment over, scribbled a note in return, and sent it back to the blond. She certainly wasn't going to let him win and give in to his spoiled demands.
"Maybe." she had replied. She knew she'd have to agree sooner rather than later, but the temptation to wind him up was just too much on that occasion.
Having received the message, Draco growled under his breath. Daphne, Pansy and Blaise all simultaneously leaned over to peer at what Hermione had written. Daphne snorted in amusement, whilst Pansy and Blaise sucked air through their teeth.
Draco wrote back immediately, almost breaking the nib of his quill in the process with the vast amount of panic and anger-induced pressure he had been putting onto it. Part of him knew that Granger was messing with him. She had to be.
"I did tell you that Malfoys don't like to be kept waiting."
"I know. That's why I AM keeping you waiting."
"Quit messing with me -" the word 'bitch' followed, but was scribbled out, "- Granger."
"I don't think I will, I'm rather enjoying this. (Ferrety git)."
"Wait until my Father hears about this, then you'll be sorry."
Hermione knew that it was time to stop when she had read this message. That sentence meant that Draco's already limited patience was wearing thin, so she knew the jig was up. In a way, she had been then, and still was, intrigued that Draco still hadn't taken back his invitation.
Hermione thought carefully about how she should respond, and tapped the feather-end of her quill against her chin.
She had sensed someone watching her, and she blushed furiously when she saw Ron's expression. He and Harry had obviously witnessed the entire note-passing scene, and both boys were looking at her with raised eyebrows. They looked completely dumbfounded.
Hermione could only smile sheepishly at them, as she couldn't explain herself. To them it probably looked like she and Draco had been exchanging mushy love notes for the last five minutes, when the truth was very different.
"Still think its hormones?" Ron muttered to Harry as their friend sent away the parchment once more.
Hermione didn't hear this though, because she kept her attention half on her work and half on Draco to see his reaction.
The parchment floated in front of the Slytherin and he took a deep breath in anticipation of what he was about to read. He could practically hear his friends do the same thing, and he rolled his eyes at how nosy they all were.
"Run to daddy if you want but I don't think he'd be too thrilled to find out that you're going to the Yule Ball with a muggleborn."
The words hadn't sunk in yet but they had in Pansy's head. She whispered, "Yes!" under her breath and squeezed Draco's leg under the table. He flinched away at the contact and glared at Pansy. That woman really needed to learn some boundaries.
But Pansy's clinginess was soon pushed to the back of his mind. Blaise clapped him on the back, and Pansy was now looking at Daphne and smirking. Draco read the words over and over and over, just to make sure Hermione meant what he hoped she did.
Draco twisted in his seat and was surprised to see that Hermione was already looking at him. He mouthed, 'really?' to her, just to make sure he hadn't misunderstood anything. The girl smiled at him and nodded, and Draco's own lips tilted upwards too. He had done it. Hermione had willingly agreed to go to the Ball with him.
That'd teach Greengrass from doubting me and my pulling abilities in the future, he thought smugly. Draco was so caught up in the moment that he gave Daphne a rude hand gesture in triumph.
So that was how Hermione and Draco officially became intended dates for the Ball, and in turn, was the moment the gossiping started up. In a way, Hermione didn't understand how the news was received with shock and awe from everyone; didn't they all believe they were going together anyway?
Hermione stated that morning that the situation was 'driving her hairless', and at the time had felt it as an accurate description of her feelings. That is, until Draco decided to point out the irony of her words. Suffice it to say, she had smacked him, and he had been sulking ever since.
That boy could certainly be dramatic and pathetic when he chose to be; he just thrived off attention. His whole persona seemed to have been built on it, and Hermione honestly didn't know how he could live like that. She hated the constant feeling that she was being watched, which seemed to sum up how impossible the situation would seem to other students. She and Draco were from two completely different worlds, but here she was in the common room, planning the upcoming Hogsmeade trip with Ginny down to the last second. A trip where she would be buying the dress, shoes, jewellery and everything else she needed for her outfit for the Yule Ball, to which she had willingly agreed to go with her long-sworn enemy.
As Ginny began to drone on about necklines, dress materials and lengths, Hermione's mind started to wander, and she followed the same train of thought she had done ever since Tuesday night. Dresses. I'm going to wear one to the Ball. I'm going to kiss Draco Malfoy whilst wearing the dress at the Ball… no Hermione; it's not going to help if you keep worrying about it! Think about something else. Okay, books, in the library, where Draco and I held hands and where I almost got a date with Viktor to the Ball. I'm going to kiss Draco Malfoy at the Ball… Dammit!
"Mione?"
"Hm?" Hermione said absently to Ginny, who raised her eyebrows.
"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Oh I don't know, maybe because you're biting down on your lip so hard you're close to drawing blood," Ginny laughed as she watched Hermione slowly release her bottom lip from between her teeth.
She smiled sheepishly, "okay, you got me."
"If you're that bothered you don't have to go through with it, you know. It's not like we made that deal official or implemented binding spells like some idiots do. I just thought it'd be a good way for you to get one up on Parkinson, that's all."
Hermione shook her head stubbornly, "no Gin, we've been through this. I said I'd do it so I'm following it through, for my own benefit. I'm sick of Parkinson's taunting, especially after I caught her and Viktor kissing the other day, and really this is a glowing opportunity to make her shut up. I just feel like if I back out now, I'm just proving her right."
"But she doesn't even know about this," Ginny responded in an attempt to calm her friend's nerves.
"True. But I feel like doing this will do be good for me. I've never retaliated to her before so she probably thinks I'm an easy target, and I'd like to prove her wrong. I'm just nervous because-"
"Because it's Malfoy?" Ginny mused.
"Because Malfoy would be my first kiss. Kissing him isn't the issue funnily enough. It's just the fact that he'd be my first," Hermione elaborated.
The redhead frowned and scooched closer to Hermione on the sofa in the hope that this would make their conversation a little more private. The older girl understood and appreciated the gesture, as she always felt a little awkward with this subject.
Ginny tucked her hair behind her ear and said, "I didn't think you were the mushy, sentimental type, Mione, getting worked up about who your first kiss will be with and all that."
Hermione screwed up her face, "I suppose I feel a little weird about that, just because it's the kind of thing that will be with your forever. Second, third and fourth kisses will fade in memory but it's the first one that you'll always remember."
"Don't worry about that, I'm sure there's some kind of selective memory-erasing charm," Ginny smiled, "and if there isn't one, I'll invent it just for the sole purpose of erasing the memory of kissing Malfoy if it turns out to be mentally scarring and awful for you," the girl was a little concerned when Hermione didn't laugh at her comment. Instead, she smiled weakly and gazed into the fire.
"That's what I'm worried about," she said.
"What do you mean? I've heard Parkinson bragging about how good Malfoy is at kissing – I doubt it will be that bad. That is, assuming she wasn't lying," Ginny smiled.
Hermione scrunched her face up again as she tried to work out how to explain, "I know the kiss won't be awful, and that's what makes it awful for me!"
"Eh?" Ginny frowned.
"He's undoubtedly had previous kissing experience whilst I haven't. Last time we discussed this, you said that Viktor didn't seem like the type who'd hold it against me because I've never kissed anyone before and so probably wouldn't be that good at it."
"So?"
"So, does Malfoy strike you as the type of person who wouldn't hold it against me?"
Understanding came crashing down on Ginny as she realised what Hermione meant, "oh right. I see what you mean."
"Exactly. Draco is spoiled and never fails to moan or sulk when things aren't suited to his liking. I'm just worried that doing this to annoy Parkinson will just be thrown back in my face if he decides to make a laughing stock of me out of it."
"Hermione-"
"Don't Gin, it's my own fault for getting so caught up in finding a date in the first place that I didn't think this far ahead."
"Hermione, listen," Ginny said firmly, "he's not going to do that."
"Pfft. This is Draco Malfoy – why wouldn't he do that?" Hermione scoffed in disbelief.
"Because this is Draco Malfoy: the spoiled, pretentious, self-righteous boy who hexed you a couple of weeks ago and has insulted you ever since your first year-"
"I hope you're going somewhere with this," Hermione glared at Ginny.
"I am Mione, keep your hair on! My point is, he's still all those things, and yet he asked you to the Yule Ball. Even the way he prompted you to give him an answer proves he's the same annoying git, and yet he's been civil to you countless times over this last week."
Hermione nodded, "and that makes you confident that he's not going to make a fool of me about my lack of kissing experience, how?"
"Merlin, I thought you were supposed to be the smart one," Ginny teased, gently nudging Hermione's arm with her own, "but I get that you're really anxious about this. It just seems like Malfoy cares about you in his own strange way, or at least he respects and accepts you as a person now. He wouldn't humiliate you like that."
"Did you really just use the words 'Malfoy', 'cares' and 'respect' in the same sentence?" Hermione joked. She felt in denial about what her friend was saying, and yet her heart fluttered when she heard the words.
"Think about it. He has initiated almost everything that has happened between the two of you. There was the apology, and then he asked you for tuition. After that he suggested a truce-"
"But then we got into a fight," Hermione countered. She didn't really understand why she was protesting so much.
"Hm, and who was the first to apologise?"
"He was," Hermione sighed.
"There you go," Ginny smirked triumphantly, "are you okay now?"
"I don't know Gin. I feel better about the kiss thing now but… it's just…I still feel…um…do you think he…" Hermione's voice trailed off and she was left gesturing wildly with her hands trying to tell Ginny what was bothering her but the words just wouldn't come. She soon became flustered and let out an exasperated squeal through gritted teeth. Hermione buried her face in her hands, and took a deep breath.
Ginny put her hand on Hermione's arm. The younger girl prided herself at being perceptive of people's emotions. With her girl's intuition on top of that, she had an idea of what her friend was trying to say.
Hermione lifted her head and looked at Ginny. The redhead smiled and nodded once, signalling that she understood. Hermione seemed confused by her gesture but Ginny said nothing. It wasn't her place to call her friend out on something she didn't seem to know she felt yet, nor was it her place to try and talk her out of it. The girl couldn't help how she felt, but Ginny didn't want to see her get hurt.
She decided she would talk to Hermione about it as and when she was comfortable admitting that she had feelings for Malfoy and that she thought he could like her too. That was all Ginny had worked out based on odd bits of information she knew of, but as far as knowing if it was a fleeting hormonal crush or the real deal, she was stumped.
"How's Scar-Face looking as a date now, Greengrass?" Draco jeered when the blonde girl entered the common room. He swigged a bottle of Butterbeer happily when the Daphne bristled and shrugged off her winter robes, all the while glaring at him.
"Where'd you get that?" She changed the subject, gesturing towards the Butterbeer.
"Kitchens. That is traditionally where one would get food and drink," Draco said with a hint of condescension.
Daphne's brown eyes rolled behind the lenses of her glasses, "How?"
"Well I was planning on stealing it, but you'll never guess who works in the kitchens."
"Filch?" Blaise mused.
"That oaf, Hagrid?" suggested Crabbe.
"Hippogriffs?" Pansy teased.
Draco picked up the cork from his drink and threw it at her, "funnily enough, Parkinson had the closet guess; house-elves."
"Why would they give you that then? Surely they would have had orders from Dumbledore not to do that," Daphne said.
"One of them was that useless little thing that used to work for my family. The one Potter set free back in second-year," Draco explained, "he recognised me; didn't seem too perturbed by my presence though. Apparently school gossip reaches every corner of the castle, these days."
"So?" Crabbe said gruffly. He never was one for picking things up quickly.
"So, they all heard about me and Granger. Apparently the elf we used to own is a friend of hers, so it gave me the Butterbeer assuming that I was her friend also, despite how my family treated it." There was more of Draco's account to tell but he held his tongue for fear of his friends' reactions.
The elf recoiled as its large eyes first fell on Draco.
"Young Mr Malfoy," it squeaked, "you shouldnts be in here, sir." In that moment Draco almost pitied the creature for having to call him 'sir' despite the not-so pleasant history they had.
As the elf spoke his name, many others turned their heads to look at Draco. They all knew whom he was from stories Dobby had told them, but none of them looked at the boy with contempt or fear. What Draco didn't know, was that they were also aware that he was going to the Ball with Hermione, and they were all familiar with who she was too, and her friendship with Harry Potter, whom Dobby often spoke highly of.
As Draco frowned in confusion at this unexpected reception from the creatures, the one he used to own was talking to another elf.
'His elf' spoke again, "I is being told you is going to the Ball with friend of Harry Potter, sir."
"Hermione? Yeah I am," Draco replied, feeling a little disgusted at how freely the creature was speaking about his (well, not-so) private life. But he was pretty much powerless from reprimanding it.
The elf practically jumped with joy, "Yes, that be the name, sir. Dobby is having trouble with remembering her name. She is very kind to Dobby. She is campaigning for Elfish rights, sir."
Ah, Dobby, that's what it's name is, Draco thought to himself. And what campaign? The elf couldn't possibly be on about those stupid SPEW badges Granger had been sporting, could it?
"What campaign?" he asked.
"Dobby is forgetting the name, but Miss Hermione is wanting more elves to be getting paid for their work, sir."
Draco sighed. His hunch had been correct. Trust Granger for being so high-and mighty about this. Was she unaware that pretty much all house-elves didn't want to be paid? Or was she just doing what she thought was morally right, regardless of what the elves thought? It was a stupid question to ask himself; Draco knew deep down it would be the latter scenario.
Her campaign was bloody stupid but part of Draco found it a little humbling that Granger was still so invested and passionate about the idea.
"I see," he said.
"If it isn't too bold of Dobby to say, Dobby is thinking that Miss Hermione is making you a better, more good person, sir."
"What?" Draco said, a little too harshly.
The elf gasped and began banging his head on the work surface, where rows of pies were cooling. The creature over-shot its target a few times, and head-butted the pies. Fruit and pastry flew everywhere, causing Draco to duck and dive to avoid being hit.
"Bad Dobby. Bad Dobby!" The elf punctuated each bang with the repeated words.
Draco rolled his eyes. The elf was just as idiotic as it had been when it worked for his family. He dragged its bony arm away from the workbench and spun it around to face him.
"Tell me what you meant when you said that," Draco said calmly, albeit through gritted teeth.
The elf shook its head, "Dobby is saying too much. Dobby must punish himself for speaking his opinions when he was not asked sir."
"Look… Dobby," Draco sighed, "you work for that old coot, Dumbledore now. You don't have to listen to what I say and punish yourself for it."
Draco saw tears brimming in the elf's enormous eyes. He couldn't comprehend exactly why he felt sorry for the thing, but he felt somewhat responsible for the way it had to punish itself after all this time. His father was the main culprit for damaging the elf in such a way, but Draco wasn't totally guilt-less at the same time. He realised how much his family had messed it up, and he felt as if karma was making him pay the price for it now.
"Just tell me what you meant. I won't get angry," the last statement had been Draco speaking more to himself than the elf.
Dobby shuffled in obvious discomfort for quite some time, and seemed reluctant to speak. But it did so nonetheless.
"Miss Hermione is telling Dobby about you sir, when she is visiting Dobby with Harry Potter and his Weezy. She is telling Dobby that you is being nice to her now, and how this is making her happy. At first Dobby isn't believing her, but Miss Hermione is a smart girl. Dobby didn't know about the Ball until just now, sir, and forgive Dobby for what I is about to say. The last time I is seeing you, you is being not very nice to Dobby. You is seeming much different and grown up tonight, sir."
Draco pursed his lips and nodded vaguely. He recalled Hermione saying something similar to him when they'd been in the broom cupboard. She'd said she thought the apology and truce had been mature and grown up, and now she had allegedly divulged her thoughts to the elf, too.
Draco suddenly felt like a fraud. He in no way deserved credit, and yet Hermione thought he was worthy of it. He wasn't expecting to care so much; if anything he should be crediting himself for pulling the wool over her eyes so easily. That was how he had imagined feeling when Daphne first brought up the bet. It was true that once he'd started discussing the truce with Hermione, he realised what a good idea it was. But the fact was that without the bet, Draco would have been too arrogant and proud to even think about doing such a thing. He was a joke. A coward. And he certainly wasn't going to stand for that.
Damn Granger, he thought. Draco could tell that if she hadn't been singing his praises to elves he wouldn't be feeling like this. It was pathetic but also a little touching that his recent actions towards her had affected her so much. Draco shuddered, not liking how Hermione being affected was affecting him. He felt guilty that her re-evaluated opinion of him was all built on pressured and half-hearted olive branches that to begin with, he didn't even mean.
He was desperate to gain back some pride and dignity. He was Draco Malfoy; he shouldn't care what people thought of him, but Granger had somehow wormed her way past his defences. He refused to feel guilty. It wasn't his fault, not really. If anything Daphne should feel like the guilty one for coming up with the rules and requirements for the bet. All Draco was doing was trying to win. It wasn't his fault that Hermione reacted like she did…was it?
Nevertheless, Draco knew he wouldn't be able to shake this feeling unless he started proving, if only to himself, that he meant all of the things he suggested to her. To some extent, Hermione deserved that as well given that she had so willingly accepted him and tried to see the good in him when it was painfully evident that Potter and Weasley still loathed his guts.
Draco was beginning to get a headache with all of these thoughts and emotions he was feeling. He always knew that Granger would be the death of him.
"Right," he told the elf whilst scratching his head "I just came down here for some Butterbeer."
Dobby bowed and retrieved a bottle in no time. Draco was surprised at how co-operative it was being, but he wasn't going to argue. He needed that drink to clear his head. It was originally intended as a treat for himself for finally completing the first stage of the bet, and for passing his Charms exam – not that Granger had helped him achieve that - but these could now just be his excuses if his friends asked why he had it.
'Er, thanks," he said to the elf. Merlin, what was happening to him today? He just thanked a house elf.
"Draco?" The blond was pulled from his thoughts as he heard Blaise talking to him.
"Hm? Sorry, what are we talking about?"
"Oh just about how weird it is that Granger has been making friends with the bloody servants," Pansy supplied.
"Yeah it is a bit strange I suppose," mused Draco.
"Well not really," Daphne said. She could see how distracted Draco was, and noticed that he had been like that on a regular basis over the last few days. It was time to test the water, "isn't it logical that Mudbloods would be with their own kind – other freaks? She is friends with Hagrid after all," the girl never took her eyes off Draco, watching him like a hawk to gauge his reaction.
Before his brain had even processed the words, Draco snapped, "don't call her that." The sentence left his mouth and his eyes widened in horror and disbelief. His friends all fell silent, and were staring at him with dropped jaws.
"Well, well, well," Daphne smirked, "isn't this interesting? Got yourself a little crush, have you Malfoy?"
"Shut it," Draco spat, doing his best to regain his composure.
"'Course he doesn't," Blaise scoffed, "tell her, Draco." But the blond didn't say anything. He just ran a hand through his hair and stared at the floor; his eyes were steely.
Pansy refused to believe that Draco could have feelings for Granger. That would be a slap in the face if there ever were one. Not only had she played a big part in getting them together in the first place but also it had been because she wanted Granger to be humiliated at the Ball, and that would never happen if Draco had a crush on her.
"Did you seriously ask that, Greengrass? It makes more sense that this just means Granger has him wrapped around her little finger. You know how touchy she gets when we call her a Mudblood. I just take this as a sign that she's just got him well trained in the hope we'll stop calling her that too."
"Well of course you'd say that Parkinson," Daphne said icily, "However I for one, don't hear Draco denying it."
She, Pansy and Blaise slowly turned to look expectantly at Draco.
Draco looked at his friends and sighed, "what Parkinson said," he mumbled.
"Ha!" Pansy smirked.
"He still didn't deny it," Daphne trilled in a singsong voice, examining her nails.
Draco exhaled sharply and rounded on the blonde girl, "No I bloody don't have a crush on Granger, all right? You're just pissed because I actually managed to convince her to go to the Ball with me, and now you're stuck going with Potter!"
"Don't get too cocky Malfoy, I'm still not convinced of your 'pulling' abilities. You did have quite a lot of help after all," Daphne shot Pansy a dark look.
"Oh, and you were doing nothing to sabotage things I was doing?" Draco hissed.
"I was just levelling the playing field," Daphne retorted.
"Hmm. Well, well, Greengrass, you didn't seem too ruffled about being stuck attending the Ball with Boy Wonder," Draco said. If Daphne wanted to play her mind-games, he'd do the same thing, "perhaps you're the one with the secret crush…"
"You're so pathetic, Malfoy," she rolled her eyes.
Draco rose from his seat with his hands in his pockets. He paused, and leant his head towards Daphne, as if listening for something. He shrugged after a few seconds, "forgive me but I don't hear you denying it."
Daphne scowled, and Draco was satisfied that he had made his point. He slunk away to the dormitories and collapsed on his bed, hoping that sleep would come to him fast to avoid any more awkward questions Blaise could ask him.
To be continued…
A/N: So we've got the Hogsmeade trip coming up next. It's going to be another 3-parter. Pretty much had the idea for these chapters since I started writing this story... that's all I shall say for now.