Let's See

by leez-bee

Hermione & Ron have broken up, Hermione's feeling out of place within her close friends, but Harry Potter will always have his best friend's back. New friends mean new relationships, will Hermione take Harry's help or force herself out of the public, Britain wizarding eye? & how does Draco Malfoy & co., fit into all of this? Dramione. [First fic.; rated M for future chapers]

32. Fête II

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter & co. - just write what could have been. some Dramione, just in time for the New Year's hehe.

You all are so kind for leaving your reviews, thank you so much! Happy hols!
Reviews keep me going - please leave your comments, thoughts, etc.! :)

Chapter Thirty-One

Despite not having Pansy Parkinson as a date, Theo was having great fun at Harry Potter's birthday party. His reluctance didn't show as obviously as Draco did, but he did have his reservations. Theo had mostly come to support his best mates in their budding relationship. After lunch with Hermione, Theo had gone home to change out of his previous summer suit and slipped in a new one; his navy trousers complimented his eyes, and he chose a simple, crème-colored oxford shirt with dark, leather oxford shoes. He styled his curls to stay into place with pomade and a sticking charm and wondered if Hermione charmed her hair to act as riotous as they looked – she pulled it off well. Like Draco, Theo sported a silver chain necklace, hidden within the collar of his shirt. It was a Rosier family heirloom; a rose with thorns engraved in the square silver plate. Theo never parted from the necklace. It was a gift from his mother and Theo found comfort in the jewelry. Everyone was more amicable than he assumed, with the exception of a few, and Theo knew the hospitality was because of Harry Potter. No one here would dare question the Boy Who Lived's choice of friends and acquaintances; Theo couldn't help but to be grateful for their acceptance otherwise the party would have soured immediately after the arrival of Draco. Despite arriving with the Golden Girl, Theo could see the glares and looks of disgust on wixen faces at the arrival of the pair, equally matched with the similar looks for himself alongside Pansy and Blaise. After his chat with Pucey, Hermione had slipped away to join her other friends. Despite not knowing if their conversation was heading south, Theo was glad he intervened when Hermione's smile fell from her face at whatever Pucey had asked her. She didn't stay long enough for him to ask but he was sure the topic would reach them sooner or later. Currently, Theo was on his way back to his own crowd. However, Draco was missing, Blaise was talking to Ginny Weasley by the makeshift bar, and Pansy was intentionally avoiding him. Knowing the witch of his affections ignoring him didn't stop Theo's good mood; he made his way towards a long-haired blonde who often spoke in riddles and gave him whimsical smiles. Luna Lovegood was admiring the fireworks at the finger food table when Theo stepped besides her.

"Theodore, did you have a pleasant talk with Hermione?"

She asked, her tone soft and melodic. Theo sipped on his firewhiskey, while watered down by the sparkling water, still a stiff drink Blaise supplied. Theo smiled down at the Ravenclaw witch, nodding. The witch wore, what Theo would assume, woman muggle fashion. She had on a velvet, lavender dress that ended right at her ankles but underneath, wore a light gray tee that displayed her pale arms trickled with light brown freckles. On her feet were thick, tall, black boots that had laces and her wrists, neck, and ears were covered in a random assortment of jewelry in different shades of purple and black. Oddly enough, Theo thought the look suited her.

"Yes. What about you? Talk to your ex yet?"

Theo asked, a smirk on his lips. He'd known, just like any socially able wizard would, the dating circle around them. He knew Neville Longbottom was previously with Luna Lovegood but nothing serious as courting ever took place. Currently, Neville was dating Hannah Abbott and Luna was dating Rolf Scamander. Luna smiled serenely up at him, popping a chocolate covered pretzel in her mouth.

"No, Neville is occupied and I don't want to disturb the peace again."

She answered. Theo tilted her head at her last comment, wondering what she meant before she raised her glass to him. He looked curiously at it before meeting her crystal clear, blue eyes.

"To new friendships."

She said. He smiled down at her, tapping his own glass with hers.

"To new friendships, Miss Lovegood."

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Draco found himself standing at the top of the stairs in Grimmauld Place, leading back into the party, hearing the buzz of event from where he stood. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm his ever-present anxiety. Everything is going well. Except that conversation with bloody Pucey, he couldn't help but to think. Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, Draco took several steps back so his back was against the wall and he wouldn't be as noticeable as he previously was. While the conversation between Hermione and Pucey didn't seem catastrophic in appearances, the demanding questioning she pushed to the forefront of her mind while trying to read her vibrated chaos throughout Draco. How am I supposed to answer her truthfully when she isn't ready for the intense emotions I feel for her? He asked himself. Draco let turmoil sweep over him for a few more minutes before taking another minute or two to compose himself. He couldn't have an anxiety attack because he had been a nosy bugger and tried reading Hermione's mind ontop of the anxiety he already felt being surrounded by wixen who didn't like him, much less like that he had arrived with their Golden Girl. Reaching for his occlumency walls, façade in place, Draco made his way down the stairs, and back into the mix. He found Pansy sipping on wine by herself by the left corner of the room, the less occupied side, as she glared at Theo and Luna Lovegood from afar. He easily stepped besides her, and her glare disappeared to look up at him.

"He would have asked you, y'know."

He said, his voice low to avoid being overheard. This wasn't the correct thing to say to Pansy Parkinson; she rolled her eyes and now glared at him. Pansy always displayed the Pureblood witch she was raise to be –beautifully cold, violet eyes hardened underneath her black lashes. Draco didn't know what game she and Theo were playing, but he didn't want them to end up doing something idiotic and destroying their friendship.

"That's not why I won't speak to him."

She snapped at him and turned her attention elsewhere – from Draco, from Theo. Draco tucked his hands into his trousers and wisely said nothing else while he searched for his date. Hearing her laughter and seeing her bright grin as she smiled at part of the Weasley clan, sans youngest, along with Longbottom and Abbott, Draco relaxed a bit. At least she's not talking to Pucey, he bitterly thought. Despite the negative thought floating in his head, he was pleased to see that everyone, sans idiotic Finnegan, hadn't shunned the bright Gyffindor from their pride. Some tension began easing off him to see Hermione happy with her friends despite being his date. While Draco didn't give a damn what the world thought of him, he couldn't say the same for Hermione; he wanted her to have everything she wanted, even if it was the approval of her classmates. He suppressed a sigh; part relief, but annoyed that he now had another obstacle to face – her pending question.

"Granger looks content."

Pansy's comment brought him back from the folds of his mind. Draco nodded once, still watching the brilliance that could only be Hermione Granger. He wanted to be besides her, hand on her back, not necessarily conversing with her friends, but just being there; once again, he suppressed a sigh.

"You besotted wizard."

He heard Pansy said, a chortle leaving her lips as he finally looked back to her. He raised his eyebrows to her.

"What?"

He all but demanded.

"You can fool everyone else, Draco, but I can see the longing in your eyes."

She said, sipping on the wine with a smirk on her black lips. Draco couldn't help but to roll his eyes at her but didn't dare answer her taunt. She was right of course, being his oldest friend, but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction coming from his lips.

"Go be with her, that's what dates are for aren't they?"

Pansy asked and before he could answer, she walked away towards Blaise and Ginny Weasley. He shot daggers at her retreating figure and desperately wished for two things. One, for a stiff drink that Blaise was currently making Hermione and two, to be courageous enough to slip into the group of Hermione and her friends. Draco stood there, having neither. He wasn't left alone for long.

"You know Parkinson's right."

Harry Potter's voice came from his right and Draco resisted the instinct to snap at him. The shorter, dark headed wizard stood beside him, glass tumbler in hand and grin placed on his face. Draco envied him – not the first time in his life to do so.

"I don't know what you mean."

He replied coolly. Harry snorted and took another sip from the glass.

"I'll throw you a bone. Follow me, Malfoy."

Harry said. While Draco wanted to stubbornly refused, Harry was the host, this was his party, and he was Hermione's best friend. Draco reluctantly followed the Boy Who Lived into the Lion's den. He took his time strolling behind Harry Potter. Draco watched as the Weasleys, Longbottom, and Abbott's smiling faces disappeared and replaced to frowns quickly as they saw who was accompany Harry. He could have been imagining their glares, but Draco zoned them out to watch Hermione giggled with Ginny Weasley who decided to join the mix. Hermione's back was to them, and she had failed to notice the disappearing conversation around them. Draco forced himself to not stare at her very attractive bum and watched her curls bounce around with her movements.

"'Mione, did you want to introduce your date?"

Harry boldly asked and Draco stiffened besides him. He was glad he had his hands in his pockets otherwise he would have smacked the teasing wizard. Everyone around them knew Draco didn't need to be introduced. Draco's eyes didn't stray from Hermione as she finally noticed, turning around to the call of her nickname. The skin on her cheeks were darker than the rest of her and Draco had a suspicion that she was blushing. As if nothing was amiss, Hermione suddenly smiled gorgeously at the pair.

"Yes! Everyone, my date, Draco Malfoy."

She stated out loud, motioning to Draco with her free hand. Ginny Weasley smirked behind her, and Harry laughed out loud beside him; Draco finally stopped watching the clearly inebriated Brightest Witch of their Year to scan the reactions of the others. George Weasley was smirking alongside his sister, the unnamed Weasley had an amused grin on his face, while Hannah Abbott's smile was nervous. Finally, Neville Longbottom's serious face came to view and before Draco could react, he saw the wizard outstretch his hand. Confusion swept through him; the last wixen Draco expected to offer his hand was Neville Longbottom. He knew from his associates that Longbottom was rallying at the Wizengamot for harsher Azkaban sentences – and he was succeeding. Draco excepted Longbottom to treat him as the scum on his shoes; there was no love lost between the two families but here he was standing before him. A better wizard than Draco in his opinion.

"Malfoy, long time no see."

Neville's seriousness broke apart as it was replaced with a charming smile and for once, Draco was dumbstruck at the former gangly Gryffindor. Quickly, praising Merlin, Draco shook his hand sternly before nodding once.

"Longbottom, a pleasure."

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Hermione wasn't quite sure how she drank more than she anticipated; the warm, fuzzy feeling that covered her, leaving her smiling more than often and giggling more than necessary was better than the anxiety she was feeling before and first arriving at the party. Even with Ron's reaction and some of her classmates giving her odd looks, the entire night turned out better than Hermione had planned for. While she didn't blame Ron for his reaction, she could have warned him in advance as he did her, she just hadn't thought he would care as she did. She was the one who got dumped, not the other way around. However, she couldn't fault him, just fault his explosion amongst others. Hermione was already rememorizing hexing jinx and immobilizing charms in her head just to make sure no one acted out harshly. But the evening turned out well; she had spoken to everyone but Seamus, but that didn't strike her as odd. Seamus, much like Ron, had a temper and Dean already apologized for his mate. At the party, while talking to an apologetic Dean, she had met Dean's lovely muggle girlfriend and the two chatted for a while. All-in-all, the evening turned out fine and soon she would be singing happy birthday to her best friend. However, Hermione was also not quite sure how she ended up on the rooftop of Grimmauld Place with Draco Malfoy pressing his rough fingertips on her hands, massaging warmth in them despite not feeling cool. The roof had an expansive charm placed over it and half of it was covered in grass with the tall, three quidditch polls looming over. The other half, the half Hermione was sitting at, was bare; it had simple wooden benches around the walls, matching the dark wood underneath; the benches were placed as to watch the game if one were playing. There were bushes of summer flowers covering the wall and Hermione suspected it was Narcissa's hand – Harry wouldn't have cared if the walls were bare as long as the quidditch pitch was kept up. Hermione was studying Draco from a close view; he didn't appear even slightly drunk. The only telltale sign was the apple of his usual pale cheeks now a soft pink color. However, it wasn't the right shade of drunk and his body language was still wildly tense – another sign he wasn't as sloshed as she. How did that happen? Hermione couldn't help but to think.

"You kept drinking those absurd cocktails Ginevra and Blaise were handing to you."
Draco answered her, his deep tone low. Hermione stared quizzically at him. She didn't think she spoke the question out loud.

"Why are we outside?"

She asked, her voice as soft as she could imagine without showing how strange it felt his fingers on her. She kept her eyes glued to their hands; his ghostly appearing, larger hands covering her smaller, brown ones – they were opposites in every way. While it shouldn't have surprised her to find his hands not as smooth as they appeared, Hermione often forgot that Draco Malfoy was also a quidditch player.

"You said you needed air."

He answered her.

"And why are you toying with my hands when I'm not cold?"

Hermione couldn't help to ask, tilting her head to look at him. The alcohol was coursing through her, making her questions seep out of her lips faster than she could try to stop them. They were both seated by the doorway, on a small wooden bench where their thighs touched – half of her exposed thigh with his clothed one. Hermione felt herself not entirely uncomfortable with the close presence of Draco nor his hands on her. He stilled and stopped his ministrations before finally looking back at her. They were close.

"You told me my hands were nice."

He said, his tone soft, softer than she had heard him. His eyes mercurial in the light, close to Hermione's face.

"And I needed something to do."

He whispered. Longer than she planned, they stared at one another. Hermione couldn't help to notice his usual sharp features were enhanced in the dark lighting, his lips not as pale as she remembered, but a pink color. His nose not too long, not too stout, and back towards his ever-changing gray eyes. I could swim in them, Hermione absentmindedly thought to herself. Draco Malfoy's gray eyes changed colors to her; she didn't know if it was the trick of the light or if she was imagining things, but currently, she could drown in the soft gray eyes she knew she'd only see on him. Draco proceeded to stick out his very pink tongue, wetting his lips, and this motion caught all of Hermione's attention. She couldn't help but to stare at his mouth and then moved down towards his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing and entrancing her even more when she saw him swallow. Hermione was sure it was the alcohol was affecting her more than she wanted but she couldn't help herself – he was enticing. Is he nervous? Hermione suddenly thought noticing how still he was. Hermione glanced back up towards his eyes, avoiding his distracting lips, and she saw a flash of something on his regular mask of indifference. Before she could ask, there was a rush of air, the door besides them swinging open. Swiftly, Draco leaned away from her and Hermione was forced to do the same, realizing how close they were. He dropped her hands as well; Hermione couldn't help to miss the warmth the provided.

"'Mione, are you okay?"

Ginny's voice asked, her sudden from appearing. The red-head witch stepped out and looked curiously at the pair. Hermione remembered her dress, a slinky, gold dress that was short, and exposed a lot of skin. It was backless and Hermione was sure she quidditch star had charmed it so she wouldn't have a wardrobe malfunction. She was beautiful and sexy; Hermione was again envious.

"Yeah, I just needed some air."
Hermione smiled at her, answering her truthfully. Ginny smiled back, her red lips contrasting against her white skin and teeth but matching her hair wonderfully. She opened her mouth to speak, looking behind Hermione, when Blaise interrupted. He sauntered over towards Ginny, stopping closely behind the Weasley witch, and Hermione saw his arm move but didn't see where his hand disappeared to.

"See, they're fine like I said."

Blaise's deep voice cut through the night air like a cooling charm. Hermione couldn't help but to smile more towards her friends; she loved that they seem to be getting along.

"Yes, Blaise is right."

Hermione agreed with him, nodding her head enthusiastically. Blaise grinned back at her and Ginny rolled her eyes, but continued to smile down towards her.

"Alright, alright bugger. Find me if you need me, 'Mione."

Ginny said with finality, tossing a long strand of her red hair over her shoulder. Blaise's viewed hand caught it, staring at the hair while he let the strands run through his fingers. Hermione couldn't help to watch the scene as she dumbly nodded once.

"Malfoy."

Ginny said, grin leaving her lips, and aggressively; she turned around, tugging onto Blaise's now appearing hand. Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth fell open just a bit. Blaise winked at her, his grin becoming more mischievous by the second.

"Mates."

Blaise said before disappearing after Ginny Weasley, hand-in-hand. As soon as the door hit the frame behind them, Hermione whipped around to look at Draco. She must have the same look of shock on her face because he smirked at her.

"When did that happen?!"

She demanded. He chuckled, placing his right ankle over his knee as he angled his body towards her. He wasn't touching her anymore, but she seemed to have his attention. Hermione couldn't help to think she liked the sound of him laughing.

"Probably when they connived to getting you those stiff drinks."

He answered her, his smirk still in place. Hermione couldn't help but to huff, crossing her arms over her chest. How did I miss that? She couldn't help but to ask herself. Despite being almost too drunk to function, the memory of talking to Adrian Pucey came over Hermione.

"Draco."

She suddenly asked him, looking towards him as she let her arms fall. Right before the drunk intoxication took over her senses again, she remembered why the sudden need to drink them more heavily. He raised his slim, blond eyebrows at her, waiting for her to speak.

"Do you – Can you – "

Hermione was fumbling with her words and she groaned out in frustration before standing up. Not only was the alcohol making her more talkative, more friendly, but she was also less coherent, her words running from her before she could get a chance to form sentences. Running fingers through her curls, making sure she didn't pull out her own hair because of him, she turned back to look down at him. He looked perfectly put together and the infuriated her even more.

"Do you know legilmens?"

She demanded. She saw him stiffen and then clear his throat before slowly standing up. He was taller than her but he leaned away, stuffing his hands in his trousers, as he leaned against the wall behind him.

"Why do you ask, Granger?"

He asked, his tone cool and indifferent. Frustration swept over Hermione, just as the feeling of embarrassment had earlier when talking to Adrian Pucey.

"Answer the question."

She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. Draco stared at her for longer than she liked, but she didn't back down. Even when his profile was become hazy and all she wanted to do was yawn in his perfect face, Hermione continue to glare up at him.

"I'm not proficient in it."

He answered. Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes, dropping her arms back beside her.

"That's a yes."

She said. He didn't comment but continue to watch her as if she were a caged animal stalking around, ready to pounce at any second.

"Are you dating Astoria Greengrass?"
She asked; the question had been burning her mind and she knew it would come out of her soon than later. Her commanding question caused his eyebrows to shoot up, his eyes to widen, and he straightened up.

"No."

He answered swiftly. Hermione knew the feeling of ease and it flowed through her, but she shoved that feeling aside not matter how pleasant it felt.

"Then why is your Slytherin companion prodding around asking about you two?"

She couldn't help to continue to ask. Arguing and questioning Draco was better than dealing with the emotions he seemed to bring out in her. Draco shrugged, the calmness radiating off of him as the nervous energy shook within Hermione. Polar opposites.

"Pucey has his own agenda."

He answered. This only frustrated her even more. It wasn't really an answer and Hermione blurted out, emotion high in her tone,

"Are you dating anyone?"

Hermione watched as he blinked for a few seconds before taking his hands out of his pocket and stepped into her personal space. She didn't back down but froze at his sudden intensity. Draco was a breath away, peering down at her, as she felt the ghost of his hands at her waist and the other on her left arm. This time, Hermione watched with fascination as he licked his lips, biting down on his bottom slowly before releasing. His gray eyes were watching her as she watched him. Hermione felt a pull within her, despite being completely still, she didn't feel the need to pull away. It was a strange emotion to feel within her because it was Draco Malfoy. It wasn't Ron. It wasn't some random muggle boy she met a bar. It wasn't some random wizard she had been set up with nice manners and not perfect face and teeth. It was pointy, blond, Pureblood Draco Malfoy. Whatever unknown feeling he had erupted from her paired with the drinks she had taken left an enjoyable feeling. Hermione didn't know if she was happy or not at that.

"Am I?"

He asked, his tone low and husky. Instinctively, Hermione automatically leaned into him as she felt a chill run through her, and he closed his hand around her waist but barely held her arm to him. Being pressed against Draco Malfoy lit ablaze something within Hermione she thought had been extinguish when Ron had broken up with her. Her heart beat haphazardly against her chest and she felt her cheeks blazing, as she looked up at him. She knew she was looking up Draco Malfoy, but her traitorous body didn't object, and she couldn't be bothered to fight with her actions now. He was handsome, he held her like she liked, and she was falling into those mercurial eyes fast. Why is he asking me that? She couldn't help to think but the realization of being on a date with Draco hit her harder than the emotions he stirred within her. She let out a short exhale as she bit her own bottom lip.

"Are you?"

She whispered back. Draco's eyes roamed over her face as if searching for an answer within herself and before he could find it, they were interrupted yet again.

"Hermione, Draco time for cake!"

Theo's sing-song voice cracked through the atmosphere and Hermione was jumping away. She barely had a second to compose herself before Theo opened the door, toothy grin in place.

"Time for the birthday song and cake, darlings."

He said, inebriation floating through his tone. Hermione placed a matching grin on her lips, nodding at his enthusiasm.

"Yes, will be down in a moment, Theo."

She said. Whatever face Draco was making behind her, Theo winked at them before saying,

"Don't be late!"

And then left promptly where he barely put a foot in. Hermione turned to look at Draco while as usually, he stoically looked at her. Hermione was lost; he could act perfectly compose but she most definitely could not. She didn't know which Draco Malfoy she preferred. She knew the safest option was the bickering Draco – the one that rarely agreed with her and wanted to win their argument. There was teasing, flirting Draco which left Hermione confused but not necessarily with a bad taste in her mouth; however, she didn't know how to act around that particular Draco. Then there was the repeating-mask-of-indifference Draco; while Hermione didn't prefer this Draco, he was predictable, and she could read him better than the former. Right now, he had chosen the last Draco to present to her. Hermione didn't know if it was the spirits or the way she felt with his arm around her, but she didn't prefer this Draco right now. Hermione wanted to extract an inkling of what she was feeling from the cool male before her. She remembered how Blaise seemed keen at Ginny's affections, so she copied her. Quickly, but not as smoothly as she would have liked, Hermione reached for his left hand, and turned, tugging him behind him before she could see his reaction. She could feel Draco's chest on her back and she tried not to blush at the proximity.

"Come on, can't be late."

She chipperly said, ignoring his silence. Hermione didn't know if it was because of the spirits, because of how he treated her, how he felt against her, but Hermione didn't care if she walked inside with her date, hand-in-hand. Although, her assurance faltered every step she took with the silence dragging behind her. She almost dropped his hand when they walked back in quietly inside but relished in the reassurance that swept through her when his fingers slipped into hers, squeezing her hand gently.