Disclaimer: I don't own it. Please read previous chapters for full note.

A/N: I got my wish: the most reviews yet for the last chapter! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! As promised I up-dated super fast. This chapter is even longer! It's basically part 2 of the party. I hope you lie it. Please review! Also, I will be up-dating irregularly for the next couple weeks as I move out of the house and into a dorm ans switch computers, so wish me luck and bear with me. Keep an eye out for up-dates. Thanks!

Stolen

Chapter 7: The Man in the Iron Mask

Her heart stopped, breath caught, and her throat constricted painfully tight. She felt as though she were trapped in a nightmare in which she tried to scream, but couldn't make a sound; tried to run, but couldn't move; tried to wake herself up, but couldn't get away. Meanwhile, the world around her continued to twirl and blur, laughing and enjoying themselves. They were oblivious, and, even if they had noticed her distress, would they have cared? She reached for her wand, concealed in her dress.

"Not a wise move, Miss Granger," came a soothingly low and silky voice. She recognized that voice.

"Snape?" she breathed, not quite daring to believe her sudden turn of luck.

"How perceptive."

"Prove it," she demanded plainly.

Unless she was very much mistaken, she heard him laugh quietly. "I'm impressed," he offered truthfully. "Tell me: how are we faring with step one: don't kill Malfoy?"

She breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually happy to see you."

"Well, for God's sake don't show it! Do you want to give us both away? If anyone's looking, I am threatening you right now." She immediately caught on and began to adopt her former expression, feigning an attempt to pull away. He leaned forward and whispered maliciously in her ear: "Are you alright?"

"I'm horrible."

"Good."

"Good?"

"It means you're doing your job."

"Then I must be doing it really, really well."

"Oh?"

"Well, yes considering I had to move into Malfoy Manor today because he was so insistent. He threatened Ron's life so I would sign the proposal, which simplified things for me. How are the boys taking it?"

"Potter tried to show up here tonight dressed as Death Eater, but, needless to say, he was deterred. Mr. Weasley, on the other hand, to a more devious approach. He crawled into your trunk where Lupin discovered him and nearly had a heart attack."

That caused her to smile a little in spite of her misery.

"Hear anything interesting?" he queried.

"There's an unspeakable here that appears to know the Malfoys. His name was Roger Amicus."

"Intriguing. I'll look into it. And?"

"And a load of other ministry members, that dreadful Rita Skeeter, and about a million others I didn't want to have to lay eyes on."

"I would have thought with your aptitude for memorizing things so quickly you'd be able to identify them all."

"Well, I may have had I thought of it ahead of time," she stuttered, embarrassed that she had let them down. "Of course, I had only been informed recently of the party at all. Are there any more ancient pureblood traditions I should know about?"

"Many, but we don't have the time. You'll have to wing it."

"Great. More surprises," she replied with heavy sarcasm.

"Had many?"

"Well, yes, seeing the minister of magic followed by the Death Eaters entering my engagement party was a bit of a shock. Are they all here?"

"The ones it was safe to bring."

"Those are the safe ones? That makes me feel much better." She rolled her eyes.

"Bellatrix was a stretch. Lucius and Narcissa will keep an eye on her. Speaking of that, why aren't you keeping an eye and ear on Draco?"

"I was doing just that until he left me!" she snapped back.

"He what?" Snape sounded surprisingly concerned.

"He threw me into a crowd and told me to 'mingle'. Then, he disappeared. He's probably off making me look like a total fool by flirting or dancing with that girl."

"What girl?"

"Oh, just this heart-wrenchingly beautiful siren who kissed him and then completely snubbed me," she whined shamelessly.

"We can't have anything to start up rumors. You have to put a stop to this immediately."

"How do you propose I do that? Anything I do to put a stop to it will do more than start rumors. You're right. I'm not ready. I'm immature and weak minded and-"

"And you're acting like a complete twit." he finished for her. "Stop whining. What good is that big brain of yours if your refuse to use it outside of a classroom? Think. How do you manipulate a Malfoy?"

With that, for he spied Lucius approaching, he shoved her unceremoniously into the crowd. While it wasn't exactly reassurance, at this point, she'd have to take what she could get. To her great horror, Snape's push had used more force then was necessary, and she found herself thrown horribly off balance actually falling- God falling!- towards that hard, cold floor.

Just in time, a strong pair of hands took her by the arms and swooped her upright with surprising strength at less than a foot from the ground. She gasped and opened her mouth to thank Snape, only to find that Snape was long gone. The man pressed against her, clutching her wrists, had a bare chest and donned antique armor. He looked like a gladiator.

"Careful, Hermy-on-knee"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Where is your fiancee? Should he not be here to catch you when you fall?"

"He's- well he's... I'm not sure. I seem to have misplaced him," she laughed nervously, blushing. He frowned and searched her face.

"Aren't you enjoying your party?"

"Of course, I'm just-I'm bored." A wave of genius crashed upon her. How was one to go about manipulating a Malfoy? If she was to get him away from that girl without approaching them, she must give him a reason to leave. How was she to do that? Make him jealous! "Care to dance?" she blurted out.

"Won't he mind?" Krum raised an eyebrow though he didn't seem particularly worried.

"He might, if he ever notices." He understood.

He took her hand with confidence and she felt like the unsteady young girl she was when she had first been led across a dance floor by his strong arms. She had not danced since then and had forgotten just how much she enjoyed it. As they moved with the masses, she couldn't help but observe the view before her.

He looked truly physically impressive, she reflected. A fresh wave of hot embarrassment flooded through her when he caught her staring at his generously exposed chest. She tired to recover quickly with conversation.

"You're costume is fantastic." Smooth.

"Thank you. It was a good idea, no, to make it a fancy dress party?"

"I suppose. I feel bloody ridiculous."

"You look wonderful." She allowed herself to blush as furiously as she wanted this time.

"When did you become such good friends with the Malfoys?" He stiffened.

"Ironic," he began.

"What?"

"I was just wondering when you fell in love with him." She looked away. "Let's talk about something else," he offered.

"Let's," she agreed.

"Are you looking forward to your last year of school?"

"Yes and no," she answered, falling back into being herself for the first time that evening. "I'm happy to be going back, especially with things the way they are now, and I love school, of course. It's sad, though. We'll be leaving soon. Nothing will ever be the same." She sighed and her head fell instinctively onto his shoulder.

"Do you despise change so, Herm-me-nee?"

"Yes. I do."

"It can be a good thing."

"It can be, but it usually isn't." He laughed in response.

"When did you become so pessimistic?"

She laughed lightly. "Since," she paused. "Well, since... Since I read that book you suggested," she joked.

"It was beautiful, was it not?"

"Beautiful yes, but awfully depressing."

"Sorry."

"No you're not," she teased. "I'm surprised you have time to read with all that goes into your quidditch playing."

"Well, it's not easy, but, if you truly enjoy it, you make time. Between you and me, I don't think that's going to be a problem much longer."

"What do you mean?"

"The war has effected everything," he hinted with a touch of bitterness.

"Even qudditch?"

"Hermy-own, when are you going to learn? Everything has to do with quidditch." They laughed at that.

Not another word was spoken, but the silence was not awkward between the two old friends. They just enjoyed the dance and the music and the momentary peace, until Hermione, growing slightly drowsy, felt her partner stiffen and announce: "He's noticed."

Sure enough, Draco had noticed. He was making his way towards them determinedly through the crowd. He was frowning, but when he reached them all hint of displeasure was concealed tactfully in a splendid show of manners towards his affluent guest.

"May I?" he gestured.

"Of course. Good evening." Krum immediately released her, bowed, and then placed her hand in Malfoy's. She felt the last step was dreadfully unnecessary.

To her utter astonishment, Malfoy was quite a good dancer. She actually considered complementing him before he hissed at her: "What were you thinking dancing with your ex-boyfriend at my engagement party?"

"Your engagement party? I was under the impression it was for the two of us."

"You know what I meant."

"Well, to be honest, I knew you wouldn't stand for it."

"Trying to infuriate me?"

"Yes, to get you away from your little friend over there. What happened to 'don't leave my side'? How am I supposed to act properly if you leave me by myself in a hall full of muggle-haters for you to pursue outside interests?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I purposely made you jealous to get you away from that girl because you were causing us problems!"

"You play jealous really well. You almost fool me into thinking you might actually be angry about it."

"Don't be ridiculous. It was Snape's idea. I just don't want you to make me look like a fool."

"Too late."

"Shut up."

There were a few moments of silence, no where near as comfortable as the ones she and Viktor had shared. Finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Who is she anyway?"

"Who?"

"Don't even try it. You know who."

"Her name is Morissa Gouge. She's the pureblood I was supposed to marry."

"You love her?"

"I've met her once before tonight."

"She seemed enthusiastic enough about you."

"You're just mad she didn't speak to you."

"Well, it was rude."

"She will not speak to mudbloods."

"You're such a muggle lover."

"That's what she said."

"Really?"

"I think blood traitor was insinuated, but she wouldn't dare. Her family's old, but not that rich. That would inevitably start a quarrel. She said I had no idea what I was missing," he spat.

"I told you I should have been keeping an eye on you," she teased him.

"On me? From now on, Granger, we stick together no matter how painful it becomes, deal?"

"Absolutely."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Likewise."

They finished the dance to avoid both conversation and suspicion before they made their way to the clustered area in front of the stage directly behind the ice sculpture. There was a wine fountain cascading eloquently. Draco dipped two small, silver goblets in and handed her one.

While they were drinking, several people came over to make small talk. Both ladies from the ministry gave their well wishes. Draco's cousins came and spoke amiably enough until Draco made excuses to walk away. Hermione followed suit.

"Thank you father, the party is incredible," he told Lucius when the man was finally free.

"You're welcome."

"It's truly a wonder. I've never seen anything like it," Hermione admitted politely.

"I'm sure." Lucius sneered. She stood their awkwardly as they talked for what felt like a very long time. Meaningless small talk droned on and on as more people approached them. She felt someone was staring at her several times, but turned to find no one. After about ten minuets of her head being jerked like a marionet by her suspicions she finally located the source of her distress.

One of the gallant young knights, she guessed it was the one they called Raphael though she couldn't be sure, was watching her closely from the fountain. She threw him a smile that he did not return. He continued to stare unwaveringly, though not unpleasantly, in her direction. She quickly and embarrassedly checked behind her to see if he was staring at someone else, like Morissa, but he wasn't. She looked back for a few moments, raised her eyebrows questioningly, and tried smiling again. At this he looked nothing short of taken aback and, opening his mouth to say something, ignored his hands and promptly spilled his drink gracefully down the front of his sparkling armor. She cocked her head. He looked around embarrassed and cleaner himself up. Not wanting to be rude Hermione looked away.

For several more long moments she stood obediently, though resentfully, at Draco's side. Her mind wandering as aimlessly as her eyes, she tried to appear happy, especially when she caught sight of a crafty look Rita Skeeter slinking around. She placed a hand on Draco's arm and caught his and his father's foul looks.

She glared back and mouthed: "Skeeter." After a few moments she released Draco's arm and gave up pretending to listen. Gazing into the crowd of people enjoying themselves, she was surprised to find herself staring directly at Raphael again. This time there was no mistaking him for one of his brothers. Michael had been the tallest and Gabriel the littlest. Raphael was also darker than his siblings, although his eyes were the brightest sky blue she'd ever seen. Momentarily swept away by his shy beauty, and eager to receive more of the evening's rarest kindness, she smiled at him again, this time with a small wave.

His eyebrows shot upwards in unmistakable surprise and he too, slightly hesitant, raised a hand in greeting. She waved hers a little more and dropped it as he smiled widely. Now sure it was him she was addressing, he waved vigorously. He continued to stand their and waved and smile, seemingly taken leave of his senses. She embraced the awkward friendliness because it was just about the only genuine sort of it she'd witnessed that evening.

Out of no where, a dragon came up to the foolishly jolly looking, quiet brother, and gently pulled him away. Draco's uncle glanced warily in her direction, whispered something sensible, and brought Raphael back into the crowd. Though his eyes continued to follow her, she lost sight of him quickly.

Hermione grew more and more tired and bored. She was beginning to really feel dead on her feet when Narcissa rushed up to them, announcing anxiously: "Draco! It's time!"

"Oh yes." He suddenly placed his drink and hers on the table behind them and took Hermione's arm. Lucius amplified his voice.

"My friends and family," The commotion hushed. "It is now time for the highlight of the evening: the betrothed midnight dance. Please clear the floor to make way for the couple."

"What?" Hermione hissed in his ear. Without so much as a reply, he led her forwards.

To say that Hermione was surprised at such an declaration would be a great understatement. She was nothing short of shocked to be led out onto the cleared dance floor by Draco Malfoy's hand, but more startling still was the way in which she was led. His manner was only slightly commanding and for that she was, at least at that moment, grateful. As she could barely manage to put one foot in front of the other and could not begin to take control.

His hand was warmer and gentler than she would have imagined it. The way his fingers gripped hers, firmly but delicately, she wondered if he could sense her apprehension or feel her heart pounding within her chest. Although he could not be comfortable before so many expectant eyes either, he certainly didn't show it. In doing so, he pulled from her courage forth as well.

Faces around them blurred like falling rain, as they bustled about and craned their necks to view the couple. Hermione felt herself, again, grateful that she was the woman and not expected to lead. Standing before such a crowd, whose anticipation of her all but certain failure she could feel pulsing off them and pressing in on her like their breaths, suffocated her. As they nodded to such eager faces, she would have been trembling were it not for the glance Draco threw her just before. It was one shockingly empty of those traits and features she had come to associate with the Malfoy's expressions. There was no trace of that token sarcasm, hostility towards her, and even arrogance. In place of these, she was startled to find evidence of such things as confidence, determination, and understanding.

His eyes not moving from hers, he dipped his head to signal his next move and he took that single step that brought their bodies in contact. His right hand snaked its way around her waist before she could barely remember to position hers, while his other hand kept a hold on hers and raised it readily. He leaned further into her until she could feel every curve, muscle, and bone of the figure outlined before her. She discovered a warmth which was, rather than disturbing of bothersome, comforting. She too stepped forward, spreading the warmth further and searching his eyes for an indication that he felt it too. She found he did.

Without effect, it seemed, the two had moved so close that, with their lose fitting garments flowing with each other to the floor, their cheeks pressed gingerly together, their feet hidden, to someone viewing them from the back it may be difficult to decipher where one ended and the other began. This was another solemn comfort to Hermione now breathing in time with her enemy in preparation of the notes soon to come. Perhaps this warmth and closeness generated a sense of security and trust. Perhaps the situation they had been thrown into now reflected their current situation in life. They were force to be partners, like school rivals paired in dancing lessons. They would have to trust each other, move with each other, lead and follow, share space in peace. She nearly laughed at the irony.

As she smiled, Draco did as well. Was he thinking the same thing? Trying not to laugh, the two began a graceful waltz. She no longer bothered to count the one, two, three, one, two, three as she once had. Spinning in the middle of the crowd that was wishing she'd trip and fall, she could no longer recognize their faces. They could have just as easily been well wishers. They could have been the Order. For a moment she closed her eyes and pretended they were. In her minds' eye she saw Remus smiling sweetly with an arm around Tonks. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley snuggled close and watched wistfully. Harry and Ron snickered. Fred and George leaned against a wall, looking pleased. Dumbledore would be sparkly eyed and all smiles. Dumbledore was dead, would he be there? Of course, it was her imagination she'd put in who she pleased. She added her parents. They looked happy and healthy there in that hall in her mind. They were untouched by evil and color filled their cheeks.

The music was truly lovely. She did not recognize the song. Was it a wizarding classic or an original piece? She must find out. She opened her eyes to see Draco on the verge of laughing, probably at her. She thought of her mental picture and found herself equally amused. If only he knew what she was thinking. He'd be so mad! What was he thinking about anyway? He pressed against her as he lifted her into the air and what he thinking about suddenly became very clear as she brushed against his body.

Looking desperately away she took in the decorations once more. It was certainly a sight to behold. If she could just focus on the streamers and the music for a little longer... The song ended to melodious applause. As others joined the floor, an exhausted and exasperated Hermione moved to leave. A strong hand yanked her back. Draco had pulled her to him roughly. She grew instantly indignant and angry.

"Let go."

"No," he answered simply. Indeed he made no move to release her.

"I don't want to dance anymore. I'm tired. Let me go."

"No." She was outraged! What did he think he was doing? How dare he smile at her so malevolently? "I want us to enjoy our party."

She jerked away, but his hold her wrist was painfully tight. Draco took a stronger hold of her waist, and wrapped another hand around her back, pulling her close.

"We are going to erase all doubts that we are not involved with each other, or all is lost." She nodded, still pretty furious with the cad, but willing to oblige.

As the first notes of the song sang from the platform, she was a bit shocked. At least they wouldn't have to fake a smile for this one. Her face could look as furious and solid as she wanted and it would appear passionate and lustful.

At the hiss of a tambourine, he swung her from him with one arm and she spun dramatically. He pulled her towards him with both arms, her back to him. She frowned. The dance was an intimate one, and Draco was going to be hard to keep up with. Her heart flared with resentment, knowing this was all part of Lucius Malfoy's show. If done properly, it would remove all doubts that they were involved from the press and ministry. Gritting her teeth in anger and determination, she decided she was going to show him.

When they thrust violently away from each other; when he lifted her; when they held each other so viciously tight, it was a vent for their anger. What appeared to the crowd to be passionate fervor in the heat and speed of their steps was actually each trying desperately to out do the other. The other resumed watching them. The band was forced to speed up their playing. The way they seemed to be so in sync with one another was actually the direct result of each trying to ensure that the other did not humiliate them. They were forced into a romantic farce, made to work together unwillingly, and pushed to go on out a limb with trust. Irony was at work yet again. The event was truly unpleasant. She did not enjoy it one bit, and yet...

When the music stopped suddenly, they found themselves hot, panting, and in an absurdly intimate position, as was typical for Latin style ballroom dancing. Her head tipped backwards, she watched him leaning unreasonably close. She frowned and threw him a questioning glance as she realized, with a jolt of honest fear, that no one was clapping. It was as if they were expecting something else. Was there another tradition she was ignorant of? Truthfully, she never paid much attention to pureblood customs. There had been no need nor attraction. Now she wished desperately she had.

While trying to recall books in the Hogwarts library, she actually completely failed to notice his lips until they were touching hers. The kiss was as soft as either of them dared to make it, but their lips were hot and full from the exertion of the dance. She even fancied she could slightly feel his racing pulse as she pressed against him. Of course, they had just danced, so it was reasonable that their hearts were hammering away inside their chests. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to picture someone else- anyone else! Surprisingly, no one came to mind. Damn her pathetic imagination!

Slowly, because they both dreaded it so, they moved their lips against each others. Her eyes flew open. She was startled to feel the wet heat of a tongue slide across her lips, as if it were licking the remnants of something sweet from it's own. Gently, innocently, she kissed the corners of his mouth and parted her lips, ever so slightly, as they met again. Neither bothered to deepen the kiss, it was only a show after all. The breath she was holding in stung her lungs, and she desperately wished for this moment to end.

At that exact moment, there was an wild, roaring explosion. They pulled apart quickly, letting out gasps of both surprise and relief that it was over so abruptly. The crowd was gawking no longer at them, but the twirling lights and fiery combusting figures dancing across the domed ceiling above their heads. She recognized the handwork as Weasley's Wizard Wheezes: fireworks.

She gazed at them, mesmerized like a child, until she felt a hand tug her away. It led her, confusedly, through the mob and pulled out a chair for her. She sat.

A huge tower clock finished striking mid-night and the fireworks died out. The guests turned towards the faint tinkling of glass that followed the tolling of the bell.

Lucius made another grand speech and a toast as well. There were quite a few more toasts offered. In fact, there were so many, several of them rambling drunken speeches, that Hermione feared they may never get to eat the mountains of food that had appeared before them. Once the Head of House and his wife sat, everyone began feasting. What a feast it was! Not a dish, it seemed, of anything repeatable and delicious was left out. The tables were full of food and drink: fruit bowls, fresh breads, a couple of pigs, several turkeys, more then a few chickens and roasts, vegetables, sides, pies, cakes, and puddings. Each morsel she put into her watering mouth was rich, delicate, and flavorful. Hermione found herself dreadfully hungry after all that dancing, but forced herself to eat daintily and with greatest etiquette. With each careful movement and gentle cleaning of her fork, she seemed to be silently screaming: muggles have manners! It also allowed her the opputunity to savor each morsel.

Half way through the meal Draco's hand grabbed absurdly tightly around her thigh. She couldn't stop herself from jumping. "If you don't stop licking your fork in that manner," He growled, leaving the threat unfinished. She dropped the fork inconspicuously and leaned over to him as she might have done if she were really sitting beside her fiancee at her engagement party.

"Then what?" she whispered.

"Stop. People are looking at you and you're making me uncomfortable."

"How so?" He glared at hwe in response. Clea understanding dawning, she said more seriously: "I didn't even realize I was doing it." He looked slightly surprised, but soon recovered, offering her a nod.

She overheard many people comment on the food. One guest whispered something about the Malfoy family priding themselves of their cooking house elves. Everything tasted a little bitter in her mouth when she thought of that. She swallowed it, but ate no more.

She successfully managed to avoid most conversations and humiliation, but, once full, found herself fighting to keep her eyes open. Her eye lids had just grown extremely heavy and her eyes themselves quite cloudy. By the time the clock struck one, Lucius rose and Hermione rejoiced at the words of farewell that meant soon she'd be going to bed.

He thanked everyone for coming and for their splendid generosity. Everyone made to stand up. Draco pulled out Hermione's seat, and she only just stood in time to keep from toppling over. She took his arm and they made a formal exit. There was not, as she had feared, to be any waiting at the door to wish goodnight to all the guests; which was good as there was no way she could stifle the crude yawn gnawing at her any longer. They turned from the door and made their to the stairs.

A pair of buffets in the main hall caught her eye as they walked. Both were covered, every inch, with the most extravagant gifts. Her tired eyes flew open in shock and her heavy jaw fell.

"Wow," she murmured.

"You just noticed, didn't you?" Draco asked, sounding disappointed. She nodded sleepily. Once at the top, they turned and waved gratefully to the guests one final time before disappearing around the corner. She was very glad Draco accompanied her to her room, because she would never have made it otherwise and they would have found her sleeping in the hallway floor come morning.

As they reached the door she yawned, utterly exhausted. Draco sniffed arrogantly.

"Thank you for walking me," she offered, dropping her hand.

"It was on the way."

"Where's your room?"

"Why?"

"I was trying to find you earlier and didn't know where to look."

"Why were you looking for me?"

"I forgot my cat," she admitted bashfully.

"I'm not a bloody house elf. Tell one of them to go and get it for you." He, too, yawned.

"All right," she sighed, too tired to argue. "Thank you anyway."

"You're welcome. Good night."

"Night." She yawned again, offered a small appreciative smile, and stepped into the door.

"Granger,"

"Yes?"

"I'm next door."

"Oh."

"Well...Good night," he offered gruffly.

"Goodnight," replied Hermione, pleased, as she closed the door behind her.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! This chapter was a major challenge to write. Please tell me what you thought of it. It would be exceedingly helpful to know what you thought about characters, the dance, and the kiss for example. For those of you concerned that the Hermione/Draco is moving too fast, don't worry; these two are not in love...yet. This story will be long and contain some serious angst.

Again, please review! It helps so much. So far complaints have been against spelling names (my stupid word corrected them against my will), too short (I'm trying to make them longer), funny puncutation (thanks for pointing that out. I agree), and lack of originality (to this: stick around hehe). Most people felt Draco was in character and liked Knobby as well as the party idea/theme. Agree or Disagree?