Chapter 4

Yule Ball night - Part 2

Note: The poetry Theo recites is from Orpheus, Eurydice, Hermes, By Rainier Maria Rilke, written 1922

A warm hand clutched to Hermione's as Theo led her up the staircases, only pausing when one would start to move. He had said they were going to the seventh floor, but Hermione couldn't think of what could possibly be there that he was going to show her. The way he kept looking over his shoulder at her, as if he were worried that she might disappear on him made Hermione smile and softly chuckle.

"I feel rather like Eurydice and Orpheus, Nott. Are you concerned I am going to disappear?"

He laughed at her joke, making her smile grow just a bit larger, "I think I am."

Hermione was surprised that she found that she rather enjoyed the sound of his laughter. He wasn't overly confident, unlike other Slytherins that she knew, and didn't seem to mind laughing at himself. After being around cocksure Gryffindors for so long, his unassuming humour was a welcome change for Hermione.

"But she walked alone, holding the god's hand," he recited as his thumb grazed across her knuckles, "her footsteps hindered by her long graveclothes, faltering, gentle, and without impatience. She was inside herself, like a great hope."

"Are you calling yourself a god, Nott?" Hermione asked, quirking an eyebrow in his direction when he looked over his shoulder at her again.

He scoffed, "Not likely. Maybe I am calling you a great hope, Granger."

"I think you might have me confused with Harry."

"No. I'm fairly confident that I don't."

Talking with Theo had been so easy and distracting that Hermione was a bit surprised when they stopped walking in the middle of an empty corridor. Releasing her hand, Theo stepped away from her and strolled confidently up to a blank bit of wall. He closed his eyes and began to walk back and forth in front of the stone and then out of nowhere, a door materialised in front of them.

"Ready for your surprise?" Nott asked, looking at her in barely contained excitement, retaking her hand in his.

What was she doing going through a strange magical doorway with a virtual stranger, and not just any stranger, he was a Slytherin for Godric's sake? She should turn around right this instant and return to Gryffindor tower. That would be the safe and logical thing to do, the expected thing to do, the Hermione Granger thing to do.

But, maybe she wanted to be someone else for a change? Hermione Granger's night had ended crying on the stairs after one of her supposed best friends had been horrible to her. If she took the plunge, was there a chance for her night to end differently? Perhaps, have a happy ending instead?

So instead of running away, she squeezed his fingers and nodded.

Nott opened the door, and the sight that greeted her was awe-inspiring. The cavernous room was opulently designed, with ivory and gold pillars which glimmered in the shadows. Fairies flitted around, illuminating the sheen on the marble dance-floor as music floated over from a gramophone. There were little tiered trays of tiny sandwiches and a champagne fountain. Hermione could have sworn that she had never seen that secret door before and couldn't help but wonder if this room was always a ballroom. She had a feeling that it wasn't.

As Hermione walked all the way in and as the door softly closed behind her, she realised that another person was already standing off to the side waiting for them.

"Granger," Draco Malfoy said in his inscrutable way, bowing gracefully. "May I have this dance?" He asked, holding his hand out. Hermione dropped Nott's hand and balled up her fists and placed them on her hip.

She looked at the blonde prat suspiciously, raising an eyebrow. "Are you two taking the piss out of me?" She asked, letting her narrowed eyes wander over to where Nott was still standing next to her. "Is Parkinson going to pop up and hex me now?"

Nott's mouth opened into a large 'O' as he quickly began to sputter out an explanation.. "Of course not, Granger," he said, clearly his throat and nervously fixing the knot in his tie. "I offered to take a wizard's oath, remember? We just didn't want your night to end so badly."

Crossing her arms, Hermione scowled at the two boys, convinced that she had made a monumental mistake in following Nott up here despite the general splendour. She tapped her foot before turning around to look for the exit. Of course, the bloody door wasn't there.

Malfoy stepped forward with his hands raised right as Hermione began to reach for her wand. "Give me your hand and I will prove to you that we haven't planned anything untoward."

Before she could protest or pull her beloved vine wood from her bag, Malfoy had pulled her into his arms. One of his manicured hands drifted to the small of her back, as the other grasped her palm in his, his long lean finger gently wrapping around her own. Hermione glanced up at him, still unsure, and found the steel-grey of his eyes studying her intently, the fringe of his platinum blonde hair hanging into them, and felt her pulse quicken.

"Do you want to know a secret?," he said in a wistful voice as he spun her along the floor with aristocratic grace."I wanted to do this all night," he whispered. When she looked into his eyes, she felt the heat rushing to her face as she blushed. His responding smile took her breath away.