"Can I have this dance?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows, turning slowly from where she'd been left standing off to the side while Viktor had been dragged unwillingly into discussions and pictures alongside the other Triwizard champions with the reporters that'd been allowed in to attend the traditional ball held as part of the event.
Tipping her head up, she drank in the devilishly handsome wizard standing before her, one hand out in blatant invitation.
"Rowle," she murmured softly.
He looked entirely too good for words, his strapping form perfectly accentuated by the cut of his dress robes and his wild mane of blond hair shiny and clean, gleaming in the candlelight, the light bouncing off the few gold beads braided into a few sections of it. Was it even legal for a wizard to look that good?
Hermione didn't think it was.
"You look beautiful, Princess," Rowle complimented softly, offering her a charming smile while his brilliant blues eyes traced over her appreciatively.
"Thank you," she smiled shyly. "You clean up rather nicely too."
"Dance with me?" Rowle repeated, and Hermione felt powerless to resist.
With a guilty glance thrown in Viktor's direction that the man missed because he'd been accosted by fans, Hermione took Thorfinn's hand and let him lead her out onto the dance floor. He spun her in a slow circle, parading her around before reeling her in with his grip on her hand, his other hand lifting to rest intimately at her hip, pulling her into a slow waltz.
"Having fun?" Rowle asked. "You looked bored on the fringes over there."
"I was having fun earlier," Hermione argued.
"You really do look beautiful, Princess," Rowle murmured to her, his mouth right by her ear while he held her close, revolving the two of them in slow circles amongst the other couples out on the dance floor.
"Thank you," Hermione murmured.
"I almost didn't recognize you without the tinsel glittering in your curls," he chuckled, and Hermione pinched his shoulder. "If I hadn't known it was you on Krum's arm, I'd have thought you were someone else with your pretty curls all tamed so sleek and flat."
"It took forever," she sighed.
"Well, it looks nice," he assured her. "But can I tell you a secret?"
"Mmm?" Hermione hummed, her belly all aflutter with a riot of fluttery butterfly wings rustling softly.
"Reckon the curls are nicer," Thorfinn whispered to her. "I liked the feel of them when I had my hands in your hair earlier."
Hermione blushed.
All afternoon while she'd been focused on getting ready, trying to make herself perfect and pretty for the ball, her lips had been tingling from the echoes of the kiss he'd given her beneath the mistletoe.
"But they're usually so frizzy and messy," she complained. "You were right, you know? It took me almost an hour to get all the tinsel and glitter out of it."
He chuckled.
"There's nothing wrong with looking like a hot mess, Princess," he assured her. "It's always worked for me."
Hermione snorted, pulling back and bit to laugh in his face.
"You're a cocky one, aren't you?" she clicked her tongue.
"Tell me I'm wrong," Rowle shrugged, smirking self-assuredly. "We'll both know you're lying."
"Arrogant," she shook her head pityingly. "Such a shame."
"You mispronounced 'amazing', there, Baby-girl," he winked, twirling her before reeling her in and dipping her low, making her squeak in surprise.
"Don't drop me," she whispered.
"Never would," he promised. "Go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?"
"Seriously?" Hermione asked, shocked at his directness and at the offer. She'd been so certain while she'd been getting ready that he'd just been taunting her and taking the piss, intending to make fun of her to all his friends after she'd gone and let herself snog him under the mistletoe.
"Yeah, seriously," he grinned, pulling her back upright and pressing her in close to his chest, holding her so closely she was sure the teachers would all be planning to intervene.
"Even though you're a Slytherin, and I'm Harry Potter's muggle-born friend?"
"There's no accounting for your taste in friends, babe," Thorfinn shrugged. "But I can overlook it if you'll let me kiss you again."
Hermione couldn't contain a giggle.
"You're having a laugh, aren't you? Bet you'll go back to you mates after this and all have a laugh at my expense."
"If they're laughing, it'll only be at themselves for missing out on the chance to snog you, beautiful," he argued. "Please go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?"
"If you're messing with me, I'll make you regret it, Rowle," Hermione warned him.
"Messing around with you is my aim," he chuckled. "What do you think? Should we get out of here and find a dark alcove for a game of tonsil hockey?"
"Oh, Merlin! You can't call it that!" Hermione pulled back, laughing in horror.
"Is that a yes?"
"No!" she scoffed.
"What if I called it a chance to get in some practice for the start of the rest of our lives?" he checked.
"You're shameless," Hermione told him.
"And yet, you can't stop thinking about kissing me again, can you?" he bounced his eyebrows knowingly.
"I never said that," she huffed.
"No, but you haven't stopped looking at my lips like you want to taste them again, so I reckon we both know the truth, don't we, Princess?"
"So woefully arrogant," Hermione clicked her tongue pityingly.
"What would it take to have you meet me up on the second floor in fifteen minutes in that little nook behind the statue of Arnold the Atrocious?" he checked.
"A miracle," Hermione huffed.
"Good thing it's Christmas, then, huh?" he grinned. "I hear they're more prevalent this time of year."
"But this isn't 34th Street," Hermione rolled her eyes.
He looked at her quizzically because, of course, he wouldn't understand a reference to a beloved muggle film. Hermione just waved her hand dismissively, not about to bother trying to explain the storyline to him.
"C'mon, love," he invited. "Krum will be trapped with his fans for ages now, and your other mates look like a pair of wet blankets over there at their little table, not dancing with anyone. Who'd even notice we were gone? I could have you in a swoon in a matter of minutes if you'll meet me there?"
"Are you always this persistent?" she checked.
"Pretty much, yeah," he nodded. "Tenacious, my Gran calls me."
"If I kiss you in a dark corner tonight, what incentive would you have for taking me on a date to Hogsmeade tomorrow?"
"You mean besides the allure of your company?"
"Besides that, yes."
"And obviously, we're discounting that you're incredibly beautiful and witty and just the kind of sarcastic that I like?"
"Well, obviously."
"Hmmm," he hummed. "I suppose there would be the rush of having all these slack-jawed dolts seeing me with the prettiest witch in Hogwarts on my arm."
"So, I'm arm candy?"
"Baby, you're everything I've ever wanted."
Hermione burst out laughing, pulling out of his arms to cover her mouth and shaking her head.
"What a line!" she giggled.
Rowle laughed at himself a bit self-deprecatingly.
"I can admit that might've been a bit cheesy."
"A bit? You could start your own cheese factory, Thorfinn Rowle."
"I'd name it Hermione's Harvati," he winked.
"Oh, god," Hermione giggled, shaking her head at him.
"Want to meet me up there?" he checked.
"Are you going to keep being this cheesy?"
"Nah, I plan on switching to something sweeter the second I get you alone," he promised.
"Oh, yeah?"
"Mmm," he nodded, tracing his eyes over her again and looking at her with a lusty little smile.
"What if I don't meet you?"
"I guess I'll just have to try even harder tomorrow on our date to convince you that you want to kiss me again," he shrugged.
"Assuming I meet you for the date?"
"I can always find you in the village if you stand me up," he smirked.
"Because that's not at all threatening."
"Told you I could be tenacious."
"Belligerent, I'd call it."
"To each their own, darling."
Hermione chuckled as he led her off the dance floor at the end of the song, slotting his fingers between hers gently as they walked. People were whispering and pointing, many of them still not having figured out who she was, and clearly speculating on her identity.
"So?" Thorfinn checked when he'd led her to the punch table and poured them both a glass before handing hers to her.
"Hmm?"
"Second floor? Ten minutes?"
"What happened to fifteen?"
"I'm not sure I can wait that long," he admitted flirtatiously. "I want to snog you right here."
Hermione blushed brightly, sipping her drink to try and hide how tongue-tied he made her. No boy had ever paid such close attention to her before, not even Viktor when he'd begun staking out the library while he worked up the courage to talk to her, and she wasn't entirely sure what to do under the intensity of his persistence.
"You're unfairly charming," she accused him very softly.
He only smiled winningly, waiting for her answer.
"I'll meet you there," Hermione whispered while butterflies took flight in her stomach.
"Yeah?" he brightened eagerly.
Hermione nodded, sipping some more of her drink.
"Wicked," he grinned. "See you there, Princess. I'll wait for you under the mistletoe."
"At least this time, I won't get leaves stuck in my hair," she smiled.
"We'll see about that," he winked, squeezing her hip lightly through the thin fabric of her dress. "Hurry, and meet me, Hermione. Or I'm coming back for you and snogging you in front of all these people until old Snape busts us again."
Hermione nodded, watching him slip away and bypass his friends when they started calling out to him, wanting to know who she was. Scanning the room, she noted that Viktor was looking pained, trapped in a discussion with a gaggle of girls all vying for his attention. She spotted Harry and Ron across the room, too, Ron looking surly, his arms folded, and his painfully ugly dress robes rumpled, while Harry looked dashing but no less bored of the proceedings.
Finishing her drink in small sips, she pinpointed the many teachers chaperoning the event, before carefully drifting in the direction of the door, intending to do exactly as Rowle had asked and hurrying to meet him up on the second floor, eagerly anticipating another dizzying kiss for her Christmas gift.