Disclaimer: all characters and the wider wizarding world belong to J. K. Rowling.
The day of the ball was a cold but crisp day; the snow from the night before making the whole castle seem that bit more magical. Hermione had spent the past few days researching hair charms – after her experience with Sleekeazy's in 4th year she had no desire to spend the whole day with that revolting potion all over her hair and she'd discovered that there were charms that would make her frizzy mop into a beautiful cascade of soft, frizz-free curls. She had been practicing all week, even if Ginny was adamant (and jealous) that she'd mastered the spell at the first attempt.
Besides, she had to be ready first and she would be the last to leave. She wanted to make sure it held all evening.
She had dressed early and started doing the rounds in Gryffindor tower, making sure everyone was out before she left. Harry, Ginny and Ron had headed to Ravenclaw tower, where Ron had agreed to meet Luna. Ginny winked at her as she closed the portrait behind her.
As soon as Hermione was sure she was the last person there, and with only 5 minutes to spare, she hurried out of the portrait hole and almost ran straight into the tall blond Slytherin standing outside the entrance.
"Draco! You – you're here? I mean, I realise we never discussed a meeting place but I just assumed we'd meet at the ball," she babbled as she ran her hands over the silk of her dress, smoothing out wrinkles that weren't there.
He had been startled when she nearly ran into him, but when he took a second look he was astounded.
She hadn't gone for the overblown make-up the Slytherin girls favoured, with up-dos that cost a fortune in Hogsmeade. Her make-up was barely there, just enough to accentuate her better features and she'd left her hair mostly down but tamed it somehow. Purple really suited her, it brought out the lighter flecks in her eyes.
How had he never realised how beautiful she really was? She was striking, yes, but she still looked like Granger – Hermione, he reminded himself.
He reached for her arm and pulled a length of purple ribbon from his pocket, tying it in a gentle bow around her wrist. As soon as it was tied, he tapped it with the tip of his wand and flowers began to appear, blooming and entwining. The base of the enchanted corsage was made of purple-ish heather and there was a single hyacinth in the middle, dotted around with smaller purple flowers she was sure she recognised. It was beautiful and it matched her dress perfectly.
She took a moment to appreciate it, his hand still on her wrist. His fingers had moved out of the way as the flowers had bloomed and were now grazing the last letter of her scar. Although she'd glamoured it for tonight it never quite disappeared, it just made the edges look less red, less obvious. The curse would never let it vanish altogether. She pulled her wrist from his hand and swallowed hard; her brows knotted as she looked up at him.
"This isn't some wizard custom that I'm not aware of, where I'm your property for the remainder of the evening, is it?" she giggled nervously, hoping he didn't realise her discomfort.
He at least looked surprised at that, before his calm demeanour reasserted itself.
"Unlike those imbeciles you surround yourself with I know how a lady should be treated. It's just a corsage. And I'm here to accompany you to the ball. I was brought up with proper manners and my mother would be most disappointed in me if I forgot that."
At the mention of his mother, her face fell slightly. He could understand why, she had a reputation after all. He held out his arm and she took it gently and smiled at him. As they started the long walk to the great hall, he complimented her hair. She blushed and mumbled that he didn't look so bad himself. She had always had a soft spot for a wizard in dress robes and Draco Malfoy was no exception. Her stomach did a little flip every time she snuck an appreciative look at his attire. Their polite conversation continued, much as it had the past week of patrols, and before she realised, she was at the main staircase to the great hall.
Hermione was suddenly aware of people's gasps and the not-so-quiet whisperings around her. Pulling her eyes from the mercurial gaze of her smiling date she realised that all eyes were on them. A few seventh years were stood open-mouthed at the entrance to the great hall, staring. Most of the younger students scurried away, whispering behind their hands as they rushed into the hall, hoping to be the first to share the gossip.
Headmistress McGonagall was stood at the foot of the steps with lips pursed as they descended.
"Everyone into the hall, except the Head Boy, the Head Girl and their partners!"
She waited for Hermione and Draco to get to the bottom of the stairs before appraising them from top to bottom with her sharpest look.
"Miss Granger, you look lovely. The hall decorations are a complete success, I think this shall be a night to remember. Mr Malfoy…" she paused to look at their arms and the corsage on Hermione's wrist and broke out her best twinkly-eyed smirk. "I trust you know how to dance?"
Draco's eyes bulged as he surveyed the witch in front of him. McGonagall had never treated him with anything less than cold disregard, but here on the arm of the Gryffindor princess, suddenly she was playful. She bustled away before he had time to react.
"I knew she didn't hate you," Hermione muttered as he continued to stare. He shook his head and looked at the pretty, blushing face of his date – his date – for the evening. He smiled at that thought. He didn't think anyone would want to be his date after the events of the past few years, it made him feel oddly light.
"You Gryffindors are proving to be quite surprising." He schooled his features into their customary calm mask, and quirked an eyebrow "Shall we?"
He walked her to the doors to the great hall where Michael and Cho were also waiting. Michael smiled at them both and Cho, in her traditional Chinese robes, gave them a curt nod, making very brief eye contact with Hermione before turning away.
The doors opened and the collective gasp as the crowd realised who had the Head Girl's arm stole the last of her courage. Her hand grasped at Draco's right arm, her right hand flying to the scar on her arm, her nervous tell, he guessed.
Here was a girl who was fearless in battle and unbreakable under torture and the judgemental gazes of a bunch of idiotic teenagers had her flustered. He would never understand women. Or Gryffindors. Or maybe just Gryffindor women.
He put his hand over her own, gently pulling it away from the scar. Her eyes met his and the fear was obvious in them. He much preferred it when she smiled. He leant in close and her eyes widened.
"Smile, Granger. This is your night."
He smiled at her then, a genuine smile. She was reminded of the night she asked him to this ball in the first place. She lifted her chin and smiled back at him.
"Shall we?" she said, with as much confidence as she could muster.
They walked in, through the crowds and to the dancefloor.
Ron was busy sampling the many canapés that were on offer, so he didn't see the doors of the hall open. He heard the gasps of the crowd and he turned to his best friend and sister who were both staring at the door. He grabbed one more crab puff before he turned, and promptly dropped it. There, at the entrance of the great hall, was his ex-girlfriend, his other best friend, and Draco bouncing-ferret Malfoy was whispering in her ear. He could feel the heat of a blush creeping up his neck.
She was a vision in that purple dress. It hugged her hips and was delicately gathered at the side of her tiny waist. She was gorgeous. And she was smiling. But not at him. Suddenly he lost all his appetite.
"Bloody hell."
As the music started, Draco took Hermione's waist and they opened the dance, with Michael and Cho on the other side of the dancefloor. Hermione had taken the dance classes in their 4th year and with her childhood ballet and tap lessons she was a fair dancer, but Malfoy was something else. His aristocratic upbringing had obviously included instruction in all aspects of being a society gentleman.
As they swept around the dancefloor, Hermione found it harder and harder to avoid looking directly into his eyes. She'd known they were grey since their first year, but she'd never seen them this close before. They were mesmerising; the silver and charcoal flecks creating a truly incredible effect.
Harry watched the events unfold. The fact that his girlfriend hadn't been surprised at all when Hermione had shown up on Malfoy's arm was something he'd grill her about later. He had thought for a minute that he'd need to physically restrain Ron. Sure enough, when he'd looked over, his friend's complexion had clashed horribly with his hair, but he was surprisingly calm. Perhaps he'd been wrong about Ron, maybe he had grown up.
He took a last gulp of butterbeer and grabbed Ginny's hand as he led her onto the dancefloor to join the Head couples.
Hermione spotted Harry and Ginny dancing and smiled as they nodded to her. Soon they were surrounded by couples and rather than the whispers and judgemental looks she'd expected, everyone smiled and nodded, or winked suggestively like Seamus, as they waltzed past. After the third song, Draco leaned in as they clapped the band and suggested they grab a drink. She nodded and as they tried to find their way off the crowded dance floor, he put his hand gently on the small of her back to lead her. It was such a small gesture, but Hermione knew her cheeks must have been crimson for all the heat radiating off them.
Draco grabbed them two glasses of punch and turned around to face Hermione, who smiled and mumbled her thanks as he handed her the glass.
"Drakie!"
Draco looked up at the approaching figures of Pansy and Blaise. Pansy had a huge false smile on her face and Blaise looked bored. Stepping forward so that he was partially blocking Hermione from view he held out his hand to Blaise.
"Blaise, Pansy. Having a good evening?"
Hermione watched the men exchange a look. She had worked out some time ago that Slytherins preferred to communicate with as few words as possible. How they managed this was beyond her, perhaps they had a manual of tiny eye and facial movements they all memorised as children.
"Granger." Pansy said, as she looked the Gryffindor up and down, barely containing the look of disgust that threatened to screw up her face. When Pansy's eyes fell on the beautiful corsage on her wrist, she grabbed at it with a perfectly manicured hand.
"Oh, Drakie, you shouldn't have bothered with this. She probably wouldn't be able to recognise a Jorkin's original. You should have just picked wildflowers for the Mud- "
Draco closed the distance between them and had and his wand pointed at her midriff before she could finish the slur. Blaise hadn't moved an inch, he still had the look of someone who was bored, even though this evening had turned out to be anything but boring.
"Pansy, what have I told you before? 5 points from Slytherin for the use of that word and insulting the Head Girl. Now, if you'll excuse us, we were just about to mingle. Blaise."
He replaced his wand and gently took Hermione by the elbow, leading her away from the Slytherins.
Pansy stood there shaking, tears clinging to her eyelashes as she tried to compose herself.
"Why did you just stand there and do nothing?" she hissed at her date. His nonchalance was starting to grate on her.
"You're an idiot, Pans, and I'm tired of picking up the pieces while you try desperately to make Draco miss you. It's never going to happen, especially if you keep insulting the people who kept him out of Azkaban. Maybe Greg would like a go, but I'm done. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to apologise to Draco and our Head Girl for my date's appalling behaviour."
He bowed his head as he left his date, tears now free flowing, to follow the other couple to the other side of the room.
Hermione whispered to Draco when they'd stopped to talk to some Ravenclaws in their year and the year below
"Thank you. You didn't have to do that. It's not like I haven't heard it before."
Her hand unconsciously made its way to her scar. He looked down at her fidgeting hand and stayed it with his own.
"Don't mention it, Princess," he replied. "Ever. Granger, I mean it. I have a reputation to uphold and rescuing damsels in distress doesn't exactly fit with it."
She'd been shocked when his warm hand had covered her own, but at his jest she looked up and smiled brightly. The moment was broken as someone coughed behind them.
"Blaise."
"Draco – sorry to…interrupt," the Italian drawled. "I just wanted to apologise to you, and to our radiant Head Girl for my ex-girlfriend's horrendous behaviour."
He took Hermione's hand in his own and brought it to his lips, as he emphasised the word 'ex'.
Draco sized up the man kissing the hand of his date. Blaise returned the stare and, as one pale eyebrow quirked, a smirk appeared across Blaise's handsome face. He had an ally. More importantly, with Pansy as an ex-in-common, he had one of his best friends back, and with that came the promise not to move in on his territory. Blaise had made that mistake once; he wasn't about to make it again.
"Hermione!"
The familiar voice of her best friend made her turn around quickly. She saw Harry with Ginny, Ron and Luna gathered around a table on the other side of the hall. She turned back to Draco and Blaise and smiling at them both, excused herself. Taking Draco's hand and giving it a little squeeze when she added that she'd be back in just a moment.
Draco had to fight hard to control the goofy grin that threatened to spread across his face.
"Shit, Theo was right. You have it so bad," his friend remarked.
"I do not," he countered. He was enjoying having a friend, someone intelligent who understood what it was like to survive on the front lines of a war and who cared that he came through it at all. So, it didn't hurt that she looked radiant this evening and they'd apparently reached that point in their barely civil friendship where they could hold hands. But he did not 'have it bad', he wouldn't be so crass.
"Fine, Draco, but when you do admit it to yourself do please let me know so I can say 'I told you so'."
"Whatever."
Hermione approached the table where her friends were gathered. Everyone looked fabulous. With the money from the Order of Merlin, Ron had splashed out early in the summer on a brand-new set of dress robes. They'd turned out to be a solid investment with all the balls and galas they'd attended in the past 6 months. He and Harry cut very dashing figures on either side of the table. Ginny looked stunning in a slinky green number with sequins that caught the light when she moved. Luna had opted for her house colours, with a blue and bronze beaded fringe dress. The sort of thing that would look ridiculous on anyone but Luna.
Hermione smiled as she sat down and rested her sore feet.
"The hall looks amazing, Hermione, you really outdid yourself this time," Ginny gushed.
"Thanks Gin, it took a lot of work with icicle charms, but McGonagall was so excited to charm the ceiling to snow – I never knew she had such a soft spot for Yule!"
Harry observed Ron from across the table as the girls chatted about decoration, dresses, and the benefits of being of age and being able to drink punch. His calm demeanour was failing – he was gripping the arms of his chair so hard his knuckles were white. Harry could see a blow-up of epic proportions was coming and he got up to move over to Ron's side. With any luck he could drag him out of the hall before he exploded.
"What the bloody hell was that all about?"
Harry was wrong. He hadn't made it in time.
"Ron, mate, I need some fresh air, come with me," Harry tried as he pulled Ron up out of his seat and tried to steer him away from the table. Ron stood up sharply, but he wouldn't move another inch.
"House unity is one thing, but how could you be so stupid, to let him use you to clean up his name, to be arm candy for a DEATH EATER?" Ron's voice was getting louder with each word. By the end of it he was almost shouting.
Hermione's jaw dropped.
Draco and Blaise had watched Hermione approach the table and engage in animated conversation with the two girls. Draco watched as her smile lit up her face and she pushed away a stray curl. She was completely oblivious to Harry moving behind her and trying to move his friend. They were close to the table and the band far enough away that it wasn't difficult to catch what he was saying. Draco moved before Blaise was able to stop him.
As Draco and Blaise approached the table Ron was getting louder and his final words hit home. Draco was torn between punching him and turning on his heel, walking out of the Great Hall and never looking back. They stopped dead in their tracks a few steps away from the table.
Hermione was speechless. She knew Ron would be mad, it's why she hadn't told him before the night so he couldn't do something stupid like sabotage her dress or hex Draco in the hallways so he wouldn't be able to accompany her. Even Ginny had agreed it was best if he found out once it was a fait accompli, and in public, no less. He would fume silently, maybe flounder a bit, but he would get over it, just like he had in their fourth year. But not before he ruined the night, apparently.
She had been called a lot of things in her life. But stupid? No, Hermione Granger was not stupid.
She stood up slowly and narrowed her eyes as she stared at him.
"Stupid, am I? In case you hadn't noticed, Ronald, Voldemort is dead and gone so there aren't any Death Eaters anymore."
"Maybe," Ron scoffed, "but that doesn't change what's plain as day on his arm, does it?"
He was shaking with rage by this point. Everyone always excused his temper – Merlin knew she'd done it enough times herself – but they weren't going out anymore and he wasn't a child who didn't know how to control himself. She thrust her left arm under his nose, wordlessly removing the glamour, before he could back away.
"And what does that make me then, Ronald? Is it plain as day on my arm?"
Ron's eyes widened and the colour drained from his face. He started to splutter and moved to grab her wrist to stop her from stepping away, but a flurry of black robes appeared in the way. Black robes with a very tall, very blonde Slytherin in them.
"You!" he spluttered, "You're the cause of all this!"
Before Malfoy could even pull his fist back for a good punch, Ron shrieked, and his hands flew to his nose where bat bogeys had suddenly appeared. He turned to his sister who was re-holstering her wand in the secret pocket in her dress and mumbled something that may have been 'traitor' and quickly ran from the Great Hall using the nearest side door.
The unlikely group of six looked at each other in silence. Everyone was standing apart from Luna, who seemed not at all put out that her date had just run out on her.
"I think I'd like some punch," she announced, and made to stand, but Blaise held out a hand to stop her.
"I'll get you a glass, and one for everyone else. I think we'll need them. Take a seat, I'll be right back."
Harry's eyes widened and he fiddled with the collar of his dress robes. He wasn't sure how he felt about a Slytherin getting him a drink and being polite to his friends. This new order of tolerance and understanding might have been better in the long run but in the short term it was just plain confusing.
"Maybe I should go and see if he's ok," he muttered to Ginny.
"Leave him. If he wanted to be an idiot nothing you or I say to him is going to change that. Let him blow off some steam tonight and we can talk to him tomorrow." She answered as she pulled him down into the seat next to her.
Hermione sat next to Luna, Draco on her other side and Blaise soon returned with the promised six glasses of punch which everyone started drinking silently. She smiled briefly at her date before turning to the blonde witch who still seemed un-phased.
"I'm sorry your date has disappeared, Luna. I fear that might be my fault."
"Is that why you're wearing the hyacinth?" the blonde asked dreamily.
"I'm sorry, Luna, I'm not sure I follow you."
Luna reached out and brushed the corsage tied to Hermione's wrist.
"Purple hyacinths mean forgiveness. I just wondered if you knew that something like this was going to happen, and you'd need to ask for forgiveness, not that it was your fault, of course. It was bound to happen with the amount of higgy-wistles in the room tonight."
Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"It's a very pretty corsage, an unusual combination but it's very you. The heather for admiration, the hyacinth for forgiveness and the asters are obvious."
When Hermione looked at the other woman blankly, she continued.
"They're your birth flower, September isn't it?"
Draco couldn't believe this was happening. He'd planned to tell Hermione about the flowers at the end of the night, so she could look them up when he wasn't around. He knew he didn't have the courage to ask for forgiveness properly. How exactly does one start that conversation? 'Forgive me for doing nothing while you were tortured on the floor of the drawing room by my mad aunt while I watched?' didn't quite cut it somehow.
After everything that had happened when he was attacked on patrols, he had promised Hermione she would be the first to know if he wanted forgiveness. But here was that weird Ravenclaw girl with the dream-like stare giving it all away while he was sat right there. He'd thought she was clueless, but apparently, she was sharper than he'd given her credit for. He could have guessed that; she clearly wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw by accident.
Blaise caught the slight widening of his friend's grey eyes and smirked. Trust Draco to buy a custom-made corsage with a hidden message. Well, she was the brightest witch of her age, but clearly his mate hadn't expected to have his message outed so publicly. He would help dig him out of this one, it was always good to have Malfoy owe him one.
"Well, it just so happens that I'm also without a date for the evening," Blaise rose from his seat next to Draco and held out his arm for Luna. "Would you do me the honour of this next dance?"
Luna considered this for a moment before reaching out to take his arm and following him to the dancefloor. Draco was surprised by his friend's smooth move and made a note to thank him for it later. Although it made sense, Blaise was never one to spend a party without a pretty woman on his arm. Following his lead, Draco and Harry led their dates to the dancefloor and enjoyed the rest of the night.
