The inside of the Great Hall was gorgeous, laced with streamers the House colors and enchanted fairy lights. There were charmed snowflakes that fell in the students' hair and melted away as soon as it touched. The refreshment tables were loaded with pumpkin juice and butterbeer, and plates of glittering pastries. Couples were already engaged in dancing, twirling each other out on the dance floor.

"'Mione," Ginny whined, tugging on her friend's hand. "C'mon! I want to dance, and we need to find you someone."

"I'll be fine." Hermione said, gently removing her hand from Ginny's. "I can take care of myself, Ginny. You go ahead. Harry's waiting for you." With one last smile, Ginny turned and hurried to Harry before whisking him out into the open. They laughed as Harry stumbled and Ginny wanted to twirl.

"Hermione," The voice caused her to spin around. She would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Ron," She said, a pleasant smile on her lips. "I thought you were dancing with Lavender."

He shrugged, a look of annoyance coming over her face. "She's rather boring. All she wants to do is dance. She never lets me eat anything." He lifted up the plate he was holding. It was loaded with treats. "Would you like one?"

She laughed. "No thanks. I think if I eat anything, I will surely burst from this dress." She was a little disappointed that Ron hadn't noticed it yet. Didn't she look pretty enough? Wait, why did she even care if she looked good? It's not very much like her. "I would like a drink though."

"I'll get it." Ron said, turning and rushing to the table. She watched him and laughed to herself when he grabbed more food.

When he returned, they sat at a little table and ate and drank in silence. "Would you like to dance, Hermione?" was what he asked her when he finished and wiped his mouth.

She smiled at him. "Sure, Ron." He stood and offered her his hand, which she took and they strode onto the open floor and prepared for the dance. It was a waltz-y song, something slow enough for Ron to manage to maneuver. His skill had improved since the Head of House had taught them in fourth year.

It was fun, something that made Hermione relax and laugh, although her feet ached for the effort. She enjoyed being able to spend time with Ron that had nothing to do with the war or Voldemort. She was glad she could finally be a good friend not just someone who tagged along for the thrill of it.

When the dance was done, Harry took her out, while Ginny and Ron danced. Dancing with Harry was fun too, his dancing skills rather clumsy, but well enough to manage two dances in a row. Hermione liked the fact that he had mentioned how pretty she looked. (Although maybe that was Ginny's doing.)

"Thank you, Harry. You look rather handsome yourself." Her smile was radiant; nothing could make it fade. Ginny was right. She did need happy, and fun too. She did need to relax and work out the kinks in her back. She needed to let loose and be a great friend.

Harry finally left, since Ginny was impatient for another dance, and Hermione lingered on the edge of the ballroom, in a corner that nobody currently inhabited. She sat down with a shallow glass of pumpkin juice and watched her friends and frenemies dance and laugh and have fun. She felt like an angel, watching the humans on earth, watching them being safe and carefree and wishing she could be the same, but at the same time happy for them, happy that they had this little haven of friendship and care. It was like all her senses faded away and all the noises were muffled, her eyes the only functioning part of her body, observing the dancers, feeling the fairy lights in her peripheral vision. She could feel their excited emotions floating thickly in the air, and smiled. She loved it when people were happy.

"What, pray tell, are you smiling at now, Granger?"

It was the voice that brought her down to earth, not even the harshly spoken words. Her head turned, her smile fading with every degree she rotated. In his sleek, black dress robes, Malfoy stood; his posture impossibly straight while leaning on the wall. How could he do that? Leaning on the wall required casualness, but his spine was straight as a rod. She shook her head lightly. Now was not the time.

"Hello, Malfoy." Hermione said with a small inclination of her head. She didn't feel like rejecting his interaction, and he stepped closer. "I was smiling at how lovely our classmates look. You can just feel the happiness in the air, and the joy."

The blonde snorted. "Now you're sounding like Lovegood." To tell the truth, she felt a little like Luna. Like she was bound to drift off of land. So this was what it was like to believe in those magical nonsensical creatures. Hermione felt too light, and she rather didn't like the feeling. She tried to reel herself back in. She wanted to ask him how's been, how he's handling everything, and what was he doing on the seventh floor at night.

"You shouldn't be talking to me." She said instead. It was a much safer topic, although she was tired of having it.

"I think I'm safe with talking to you. You definitely chose the most secluded corner in this entire room. No one will even notice." Draco said, taking a sip from the glass he held in his left hand.

It was true; her corner was closed off and empty, since it was a genuine corner and there was no room for dancing or tables, just the single chair Hermione was sitting in already. That's also why she was anxious about talking to him. If anyone did see, they would think they were hiding something. But Hermione didn't want her friendship with Draco to be a secret; even though that's the way it had to be. If she hadn't broken it off again, that is. She felt safer talking to him out in the open, like she wasn't going behind her friends' backs.

Another thing that was frustrating her was the height difference. He was taking too much pleasure in towering over her, so she stood up and pulled herself up to her full height. It was even more embarrassing, however, when she still barely made it up to his chin.

"It doesn't matter if you think no one will see us. I don't want to talk to you right now." She said.

"Just right now? Should I come back later?" His infuriating eyebrow rose. Damn his eyebrows.

"Right now, or any time. I don't enjoy your presence, no matter what you may think." Hermione crossed her arms.

"What if I asked you for a dance?" He held out a hand.

She rolled her eyes. "No way. I'm not going out there with you."

"You don't have to go 'out there.' We can dance in this little corner, and no one will see." He flicked his hand impatiently. "Come on, have a little fun."

Fun. Yes, that was what she was supposed to have right now. And if the one offering her it is Draco Malfoy, why should she care?

She sighed and looked over her shoulder at the dancing crowd before turning back to him and putting her hand in his. They fit perfectly, like their hands were molded to slide together. He led her a little ways away before taking a step back to bow, and Hermione curtsied.

A new song began and they clasped hands, swaying to the music, taking the steps needed to accomplish the dance. He was an amazing dancer, just like before, and the feeling of dancing with him after dancing with Ron and Harry was incredible. His moves were smooth and stately, and however much she tried to convince herself she enjoyed dancing with her Gryffindor friends, she couldn't help but admit dancing with Draco was much better. Much easier. Like they fit together like two puzzle pieces.

Draco dipped his head so his breath graced her exposed neck. "You look lovely tonight."

Hermione blushed. Why was it that Draco had to be the one to purposely tell her that? Ron hadn't even thought about it, and Harry had Ginny to remind him. "Thank you. You look rather dashing yourself."

He smirked, and she swore she could feel a change of temperature in the breath exhaled on her neck. "I believe I always look dashing. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I wouldn't say always… Remember that time when we were ten, and you fell in the mud? Narcissa was rather angry you had soiled your new robes, and she had you crying in a minute." She spared a glance to him, to see that his face had gone pale and red at the same time. She grinned evilly at him. "I don't recall thinking you were dashing then."

"That was six years ago. I'm talking about now, at school." Draco argued, leading her into a flawless spin. "I'm talking about during the school years."

"I don't really recall you saying 'school years.' In fact," She smirked, a rather Slytherin one that made her think about the necklace dangling from her neck, "I believe that your exact words were 'I believe I always look dashing.' I hear no 'school years' in that."

"A minor slip of the tongue." He glared at her. "Why do you always have to be right?"

"I'm the insufferable know-it-all, Draco. What did you expect?"

"I expected you to swoon when I asked if I was dashing all the time. Not for a brutal reminder of our past."

"What kind of girl would swoon when you asked them if you were dashing?"

"You'd be surprised." Draco said, a playful smirk on his lips. "You might even know some,"

She rolled her eyes. "Then I should rid myself of their acquaintance."

"I believe you already did."

"Then, I'd rather not talk about them." Hermione said. The music slowed to an end and she stepped away. "Thanks." She turned, but Draco grabbed her wrist.

"Wait." He looked nervous. That in itself was a bad sign. Malfoys are never nervous. But then again, they don't dance with "mudbloods" either.

"What?" She asked, glancing over her shoulder quickly. Ginny, Harry and Ron looked occupied for the moment. Good.

"I-" He sighed. Then he pulled her in and bent his head down, placing a kiss on her lips. She felt herself stiffen and her legs clamp up. What was going on? It seemed to last forever, but he pulled away at most a few seconds after it started.

She was in a daze, and just stood there.

He looked embarrassed. Good. He didn't deserve that.

"I'm sorry," He said, then turned and walked away.

She turned also, but her steps were slow and awkward, like the kiss had pulled out her ability to walk. She knew it definitely got rid of her speaking skills. She was afraid that if someone tried to talk to her, all she could do was nod. Why did he kiss her?

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, skipping up to her side. "Did you have fun?"

Fun. "Yes, of course." Hermione gave her friend a smile.

"Who did you dance with?"

She hesitated. She couldn't tell Ginny about Draco in front of everybody, so she just said that she had been sitting in the corner, watching.

"How is that fun?" Ginny demanded. "Go out and dance, Hermione!"

"Who am I supposed to dance with?" She asked. She felt a little dizzy. Damn that kiss.

"Anyone. I'll dance with you. See? You don't need a partner for this." Ginny grasped the brunette's hand and led her to a corner of the dance floor and swayed to the music. The tempo increased in speed and they linked hands before spinning around in circles, laughing and laughing.

Harry and Ron and Luna and Neville and all their friends joined them, no longer partner dancing, but dancing in a group, safe and secure and fun.

It was a long time before the ball ended and their Heads of Houses ordered them to bed, so the room could be cleaned and prepped for breakfast. The students filed out, chattering at a dull roar, but sleep crawling its way into their bodies as well. Hermione still swayed on her feet and her head felt hot and light and dizzy.

"Merlin, Hermione, you look entirely too drunk." Ginny scolded, supporting her friend's right side.

"But I didn't even drink any butterbeer.." She argued, pushing her redhead friend away to try to stand by herself.

Harry came over, a frown on his face. "Dumbledore found that the pumpkin juice was spiked with alcohol. Did you drink any?"

"Lots." Hermione said, touching her head. It felt mushy inside, and it felt difficult to think clearly.

"I'll just get you to bed then; you need it." Ginny said, urging her along. "Up the steps, there, good." Hermione felt stupid walking like a toddler just learning the art, but she really couldn't help it. Besides, her feet felt sore already.

The girls reached the dorms and Ginny undressed and redressed Hermione in her nightclothes before setting her in bed and blowing out the light. "Sleep tight, 'Mione."

"'Night." Hermione mumbled, curling up into her blankets. Ginny left, closing the door softly behind her. Good, she thought. She closed her eyes and fell into a dream about twirling skirts and nonstop dancing feet, whirling around and around and around forever. Good.

0000000000

"Aw, c'mon, 'Mione." Draco whined. "You're no fun."

"I'd rather be not fun than in danger. You know I hate flying." Hermione crossed her arms indignantly. "I don't care what you say; I'm not going on." She held up a hand as Draco dropped his mouth open to talk again. "I already said it once, stop making me repeat again."

His mouth closed into a tight frown. She hated watching frowns spread over Draco's face, but in this situation, she would do nothing to stop it. She would not go on that stupid broom.

"Flying is fun."Draco urged, swinging his broom around to show her. "You'll be safe; I promise. My coach already says I'm a natural."

"You're a natural, but I'm not." She huffed, taking another step back. "I don't like being in the air. There are a number of injuries that could happen that way."

"I'll keep you safe," Draco repeated. "I'm a perfectly safe flier."

"I know you're good, Draco." She said."I just, I just hate flying, alright? I'm scared of the height difference, and I'm scared I'll fall, even when you're arm is wrapped around me. I'm such a klutz, I'm sure I could accomplish that."

"You're not a klutz, Hermione. You're just a scared-y cat. Which is nearly as worse." Draco smirked. But it quickly disappeared when he realized he wasn't going to convince her with his snob. "Look, if you fall, I'll still be able to swoop down and catch you. You'll just be free-falling for a second. I'm a perfectly safe flier, and you won't fall in the first place."

"But what if I do?"

Draco groaned in frustration. "Oh, come on. Just get on, and I'll show you that you won't fall. I promise. Please, Hermione? Just this once. If you hate it, I'll never take you again."

This comment made her hesitate, but she still shook her head. "I don't care. I'm sorry, Draco. I'm just really scared, and I don't like taking the risk."

His face turned angry. "You're just no fun at all, are you? I've done everything I could to convince you, reassuring that you'll be safe, telling you about how I will catch you if you do fall- which you won't- and promising I'll keep you safe and sound." His grey eyes were stormy. "But nothing's ever enough for you, right? You just keep making up stupid, stupid, excuses to avoid having fun, and prevent other people from having fun too."

"There is nothing stopping you from riding by yourself." Hermione snapped, anger evident in her voice too. "Just because I don't want to ride doesn't mean you have lost the ability to control your idiotic broom."

"But it's not the same!" Draco groaned. "It's not the same when I can't show off to you."

Hermione looked shocked. "So, the only reason you do things is to impress me?"

"Well, sort of, yeah." Draco said. "You're the only one who would be impressed with this kind of thing. Everyone else already thinks flying is just natural for every boy. But no one's shown you before."

Now she felt angry and insulted. "So you want to show off to me because I don't think flying is a natural sport and that every boy should already play it and that I would be impressed by such a stupid sport?

"Is that what you think? Because I won't be impressed. I'm not impressed that you can straddle a stupid broom and zip around in pathetic circles. I'm not impressed that you play Quidditch. I'm not impressed that you're a 'natural flier' or a 'safe one.' I'm impressed by the fact that I was fooled into thinking you were intelligent, but really, you're just an insipid, stupid, imbecile of a boy." Her face was burning with the effort of speaking through her clenched teeth. "Just leave me alone, Malfoy."

She pushed past him and stormed back to the mansion, wanting to get out of his presence and the presence of that broom.

"I'm impressed that you've managed to stay a total moron about fun. Remember fun, Hermione? Remember that? Well, have a good time trying to find that again. Because you're just a cold bitch." Draco snarled.

She felt tears brimming in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. He didn't deserve her tears. He didn't deserve any part of her. What he deserved was watching her have fun with her friends. With Ron and Harry and Ginny. Watch her get back that fun, right in his face. Because really, he's the one who would never have fun again. Because he was too stupid to realize what it even was.

She could hear him cursing and kicking at the stones embedded in the soil. Good. He doesn't deserve fun.

0000000000

When she woke up, it was dark in the room and light snores were vibrating around the room. She checked the clock to find that it was two in the morning, but she couldn't fall back to sleep. She shifted in her bed over and over, but finally got up.

Her head felt like it was going to blow open, so she grabbed her wand and performed a few spells to dull it, until she felt nearly clear- headed. Since she felt so restless, she got out of bed, threw a cloak on and headed out the door, careful not to wake up one of her roommates.

She went straight to the Astronomy Tower, wanting some fresh air and peace. It was the perfect temperature at night, cool, but warm enough to be comfortable. Hermione reached the open space and took in a deep breath.

"What are you doing up here again?"

She spun around, wishing she had brought her wand and cursing that she was stupid enough to forget it. She didn't need it, since Draco was the one who emerged from the shadows. Something about this tugged at her memory, but she didn't know why.

"What do you mean by again?" She asked. And then an image came to her. A hazy thread of a memory; her coming up to the tower one night, meeting him from the shadows, talking, and then white. What did they talk about? What did they do? What was the white?

He paled, realizing his mistake. She was never supposed to have been up here before. And now he had probably triggered memories of that night. "I just meant; why are you up here? I didn't mean to say 'again.'"

She frowned. "Are you hiding something from me, Draco?"

"Why would I ever hide anything from you?"

"Stop deflecting my questions with your own. Answer me."

"Hermione. You wouldn't want to know my secrets if I had any."

"I don't care. Just tell me. Just do it." She stepped closer to him.

"I can't." He said, taking a measured step backwards. The moonlight hit his face at just the right angle, lighting up the planes of his face. Now they looked wary and tired.

"Why can't you? Since when have you been hiding secrets from me? You're supposed to tell me everything." She took several steps forward, daring him to move back against the wall. "When did that change?"

"Since I found out you were a mudblood." He said. She hated how he said that without a flinch.

"No." She said, her voice dangerous and quiet. "No, it started before then."

"You don't know anything."

"You think I don't, but I do. I know all about how Lucius is involved in Voldemort's plans, I know how Lucius wanted you to be too. I know the snake-y bastard is gaining power and followers, and I know that he wants you to join him. Given that you're a Malfoy and all." Her eyes were lit up with buried anger. "But you didn't tell me anything."

"I was protecting you." He argued.

"You thought you were protecting me. All you really did was hurt me even more. In my heart." She said. "It's not all fun and games, Draco. People will get hurt, and I understand that. You don't have to protect me from anything."

He was silent.

Hermione remembered another detail. "I still haven't seen your arm."

"No." He said. His voice was dull and lacked the smugness she was used to.

"No what?" She snapped. "Stop being such a baby. No nothing. I need to see your arm because everyone I know is so deadly stuck on believing you're a Death Eater. But I don't –I can't- believe that." She held out her hand, grasping his left arm.

He jerked it away. "I won't let you."

"You're acting like a baby." Her voice was strained, choked noises leaking through. "Please, Draco." Tears were clouding her eyes, making the world blurry. "I need to know, please. You're not a Death Eater. Please." She wiped her eyes furiously. "You can't be a Death Eater-" She broke down in more tears. "You wouldn't have. You couldn't have. You promised. You told me you would never do it. You promised. And I believe that promise and I'm holding on so tight, and everyone I know keeps telling me it's no use. It's not 'no use.' You wouldn't dare." She looked at him, her eyes puffy, looking into his steel grey eyes. "You wouldn't. Would you?"

He just sighed and raked his hand through his hair. God, she wanted to pull that silky hair right off his head.

"Answer me!" She screamed. She didn't care she would probably get in huge trouble for curfew, probably have detention for weeks, probably earn a look of disapproval from all the elders she cared about. "Now." She whispered.

He held out his arm.

She took it, gently tugging up his sleeve, praying under her breath, tears dripping down her chin. Please. It went up farther, revealing blue veins. Please. It went up farther.

"I'm sorry."

There was a black snake, hissing, curling, disgusting. She yanked it down, fresh tears leaving torrents of wet on her cheeks. She cried, stepping away, rocking back and forth. How could he do this?

How could he do this to her? To his promise? To his life? To all the people that were counting on Hermione? How could he do it? Anger bubbled up in her chest, rising, like vomit, coming up out of her throat as a strangled scream and she stepped forward and slapped him. She watched his cheek redden and slapped his other one. They started blossoming in flush red, and she thought Good, that shows his shame. She kept slapping, swinging her arms, punching, and getting her hands on every part of him. He winced with every hit. Good. He deserves it.

"How could you do this to me?" She screamed, fists pounding, palms slapping.

"Hermione, Hermione, calm down. Stop."

"How the hell am I supposed to calm down? You stupid, stupid, imbecile! Do you realize what you've done? Do you?" She slammed her fists into his chest. He stumbled backwards. Good, she thought.

"I didn't have a choice." His voice was stupidly calm, stupidly quiet.

"Shut up! You don't even understand the pain I am feeling!" She punched him. "Do-" another swing, "-you-" A slap. "-even-" Punch. "-understand-" Slap. "-what-" Her fist rammed into his chest. "-you've-" Crying. Tears. "-done?" She broke down, sinking to her knees, sobbing, He knelt with her, hugging her. She shoved him away. "Don't touch me, you jackass."

He just sighed and leaned back against the wall. She cried for hours. She sat and cried and cried and cried, saying "Why?" and "How could he?" and "What did I do wrong?" She cried and sobbed insults at him, trying to glare, but unable to focus her teary eyes on a single object.

Finally, she stopped, trickling the sobs to silent tears to only a steady flow of hiccups. Her head hurt, her eyes felt puffy, and her skin itchy, like she didn't belong in it. She looked at the moon. "Why did no one come?"

"I cast a silencing spell."

She felt her heart squeeze. Of course he would think of that. Since he's so good at keeping secrets.

She stood up. "I'm leaving."

"I'll walk you." He stood up too.

She spun around, glared at his hair, not his eyes. She couldn't stand looking at his grey eyes right now. "No. I don't want you anywhere near me. Stay away. Forever. Always. All the time." She turned and left through the door, slamming it shut and hurrying her way back to the dorms.

"Wait!" His voice was quiet, since his silencing spell obviously did not follow him. "Hermione, wait."

She kept walking, speeding up as his footfalls got closer. He finally grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop. "What the hell do you want?" She snapped.

"You won't tell anyone will you?" He asked. His grey eyes…

She turned her head. "Are you stupid? Of course I will."

His grip tightened. "You can't. Do you hear me? You can't."

"Why can't I? You betrayed my trust, I'm betraying yours. Seems like a fitting punishment to me." She spat.

He shook his head. "The real Hermione would never say that. She would never turn on someone because of something like this."

"Yeah? Well the real Hermione is gone now. Now there's only me. Me, the Hermione that thinks you deserve much worse than me betraying you. Me, who thinks that I would very much like to 'avada' you right now. Me, who hates your entire being, down to every last fiber."

"Stop it." He said. "You don't mean it."

"Don't I?" She challenged.

He sighed. "You can't tell anyone." He repeated.

"I can."

"Then I can make you not tell anyone. Would you like that better?"

"What, you'll obliviate me? Again?" She spat.

"No, I'll just threaten your family and friends until you beg on your knees to say you won't tell anyone." He snarled. Her eyes widened. He wasn't supposed to say that. He softened. "I didn't mean that, Hermione."

She shook her head. "I don't even know who you are anymore, Draco. I'm not doing favors for you, and I'm not making you seem like a good person to my friends anymore. Because you aren't. Remember that time when you asked me what you were? I change my answer. You're a monster. You're a monster. You hear me? A monster." She jerked her hand out of his grip and ran down the hall, and into her dorms. She didn't hear him follow her. Good.

She entered her room and collapsed on her bed, casting a silencing charm on her canopy. Hermione sobbed into her pillow.

How could he do this to her?

0000000000

Hermione had been noticing things. Draco no longer seemed like a child of just fifteen. He seemed older, not sophisticated, just worn out and old. He nearly never spent any time with her anymore, just "trained" with his father.

She knew what they were doing in there. Lucius was dueling with him constantly, throwing Unforgivable Curse after another. Throwing deadly spells. She had stumbled upon one "training" session once, and Lucius had sneered at her.

"Get out, Miss Granger." He snapped. "Father- son time."

She had listened and closed the door again, but not before noticing the blood streaking Draco's face.

She knew he was falling deeper into the Death Eaters plans. So she called him together one night.

"Hermione? Why did you call me here?"

"Draco." She said. "I know what you do with your father in training."

He stiffened. "That's none of your business."

"But it is. You're getting hurt and I don't like it."

"It's not a matter of liking."

"Has Voldemort recruited you yet?"

"Why are you changing the subject?"

"Answer me."

He sighed. "Not yet."

"Good." She said, touching his hand, gripping it tightly. "Promise me you won't take it."

"Take what?" But he knew what she was talking about.

"Promise." She tightened her hold. He winced and she turned it over to inspect. "Oh my god, Draco." There was a deep gash oozing blood.

"It's nothing."He insisted. "Just a little injury."

"If this is little, what's a major injury, Draco? A stab? A Cruciatis?" She snapped, taking out her wand for healing spells.

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine, and this is why I want you to not take the mark."

"I won't."

"Promise me, now." She said, hugging him.

"I promise, Hermione."

"Say it out loud. The whole thing."

He hugged her, pulling her hair away from her ear so he could speak into it. "I, Draco Malfoy, promise I won't take the Dark Mark."

She smiled. "Thank you." She hugged him tight. Good.