After weeks of waiting, it's finally here: THE YULE BALL! And a very jealous Draco... I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it, I spent a lot of time on it so I hope it lives up to your expectations and I wish you all an excellent read 3 Put the Ball music on the loop, sit back in your favourite armchair with a little cinnamon tea and enjoy the show! Love you all!

tw : emetophobia when Draco leaves the Great Hall

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Draco


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He already knew.

Maybe he'd known it all his life.

In any case, it was at that precise moment that this reality hit him.

He was in love with Hermione Granger.

Because just looking at her made his heart grow lighter, his pulse quickened, and he was dying to touch her, to brush against her skin, to compliment her dress and see her smile. She was so beautiful that he couldn't tear himself away from her vision, even if his life depended on it.

She descended the stairs slowly, one by one, her eyes fixed on something below that Draco couldn't see. She looked like a princess straight out of the fairy tales his mother used to read him when he was little. Her blue dress floated around her with every step she took. Her lips smiled a little and her cheeks took on a rosy hue that suited her better than any make-up she could have worn.

Even Pansy was at a loss for words. She watched Granger go downstairs with round eyes, stunned, unable to speak. She had criticised every single person in that entrance but couldn't say one mean thing to Granger. She was perfect.

He watched her descend in slow motion, savouring those few moments of exquisite sensation he felt. It was as if, for half a second, he was her date. He was the one who could take her hand and kiss it, hang a bracelet of flowers from it, listen to her talk and make her dance all evening. It was as if he was the lucky one she was staring at right now. As if the frantic beating of his heart was justified.

Until she reached the bottom. And everyone let out a collective gasp of surprise, including Pansy. And his best friend's arm tightened against him. And his gaze fell on Granger's date.

Krum.

Viktor Krum.

The international Quidditch player.

Blaise's idol.

The Durmstrang student.

The 18-year-old.

And when she raised her hand so that Krum could brush it with his mouth, as Draco himself had dreamed, the exquisite sensation turned to black anger.

Jealousy. Like anger, but faster, the kind that went to his head like a trail of black tar that prevented him from seeing properly. He clenched his fists, tightened his jaw, but nothing could stop the powerful urge to hit something. Or rather, to punch Krum in the face.

He said something to her and the pink in Granger's cheeks intensified. She smiled and stammered out a smirking reply, and the two of them grinned, like perfect idiots, and Draco felt like...

"Draco?"

Pansy's voice seeped into him as if she were ten yards away, even though she was right next to him.

"What?"

"Did you see that? Granger, with Krum!"

He realised he was holding onto Pansy a little too tightly. He loosened his grip and saw that he'd left marks on her pallid skin.

"Yeah." he said bitterly.

"I didn't see that coming," she conceded, surprised.

"Me neither." he hissed through his teeth.

He watched as Krum slipped a bracelet of roses onto Granger's wrist, and he counted the long seconds Krum grazed her skin. Who needed eleven seconds to hook a fucking bracelet?

Someone stepped in front of his field of vision and he swore inwardly. He couldn't see them any more. He turned and saw Blaise's face: he was completely shocked, his mouth wide open and his eyes revolted, but Draco knew it wasn't for the same person.

"Krum! With Granger!" Blaise exclaimed. "With a Mudblood! I thought he... I mean... It's..."

"It's the news of the year!" completed Pansy.

Weaslette had approached them and was chatting happily. She was accompanied by Longbottom, who looked so uncomfortable in his outfit that it would have made Draco laugh if he could breathe properly. His eyes kept darting to Granger, despite Pansy's arm trying to pull him forward.

"Come on Draco, I want to go and see Tracey."

Draco followed her without looking where she was going. He got lost in the crowd of students and could only make out fragments of Granger between two people, or the glint of her pastel blue dress. Pansy was exchanging whispers and giggles with her girlfriends.

"Oh, Draco, look, a photo station!" she cried after a few minutes.

Before he could turn his head, Pansy led him in the direction indicated. He found himself outside, in the cold, and Pansy was pulling so hard on his sleeve that his robe was probably going to tear.

"Can we do one, just the two of us?" she begged, and he refocused on her rather than the girl with the weird hair and the blue dress a few yards away.

"Yes, if it makes you happy." he said with a pale smile.

Pansy squealed with delight and took him in front of the camera. Draco forced himself to smile and put his arm around Pansy's waist as she leaned against him, laughing. The flash lit up and Pansy went to retrieve the photos quickly.

"Look how good we look!"

He glanced at the moving photos and had to recognise that they were very handsome. From there, they looked like a couple. It scared him a little.

"Come on, let's go inside, I'm freezing," said Pansy, tugging on his sleeve again.

Draco found it hard to believe that she was cold: Pansy was never cold, even when she went out without tights. He was convinced that she wanted to get inside to capture as much gossip as possible.

Pansy made her way through the crowd, greeting a dozen or so people with fake smiles. She complimented dresses that she had just described to Draco as hideous, and raved far too much about not-so-interesting things.

And all the while, Draco was looking for Granger. He couldn't find her, or Krum, which put him in a state of stress rarely rivalled.

At the end of what seemed like a good hour of pointless chatter, they heard McGonagall's voice calling for the Champions. Draco realised at that moment that Granger was part of the opening dance of the Ball, as she was accompanying Krum.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and all the students poured in with a chorus of exclamations when they saw the decorations. But Draco didn't even notice. He was looking for Granger, and not seeing her was really frustrating.

Pansy gave him one last tug on his sleeve, which irritated him even more, and finally let go when they were seated. The usual four tables had been replaced by hundreds of small round ones, and Draco found himself in the company of Pansy, Blaise, Theo, Daphne, Tracey, Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent.

Finally, he found Granger. Even though he was still annoyed with her, he couldn't stop looking at her. Usually her back was more arched, but here she was lifting her head and standing up straight. She looked nervous, looking out at the dance floor, and Draco thought that maybe she'd never danced before, and was probably going to be humiliated in front of everyone.

A few years ago, this thought would have made him euphoric. Now he was terrified for her. He felt so many things at once: jealousy, surprise, adoration and fear, that he had to clench his fist to try and control himself.

Then the music started. The waltz. The students applauded as the Champions took to the dance floor, pair by pair. First it was Diggory and Cho Chang, then Fleur Delacour and her partner. In third place were Krum and Granger. Draco watched her walk down the runway as if she were sliding. They stood facing each other and greeted each other, and Granger burst out laughing.

Then Krum moved closer to her and put his hand on her hip, and Draco thought he would faint. He'd learned to waltz all his life, practised hundreds of times, but he didn't remember the dancers having to be so close. Any closer and they'd be kissing in front of everyone.

The pairs of Champions began to twirl and Draco continued to stare at Granger. She must have learned to dance, because her movements were perfectly controlled and harmonious. She followed the steps, held her head, turned at the right moments, in rhythm with the music, and Draco was hypnotised by her.

Then Krum lifted Granger with both hands, twirled her around and gently put her down again, and she laughed nervously.

At that moment, half the Great Hall rose to join the dancers. Draco had momentarily forgotten that there were other people in the room. Pansy suddenly stood up and held out her hand to Draco, who took it without thinking. He hadn't realised that his palm was bleeding from the nails he'd dug into his skin while watching Granger dance.

Pansy stood at the edge of the dance floor and waved to Draco, who did the same. Then they moved closer together and waited for the music to start up again before starting to dance. Dancing with Pansy was mechanical; he had only danced with her all his life and he knew her by heart, anticipating her every move. So he put his hand on her waist and she let herself be guided by his steps, her eyes plunged into his.

Pansy was very pretty, too. He could see the effort she had put into her preparation, now that he was so close to her. He recognised the effects of several Charms on her face: her lips were slightly fuller, the texture of her skin shinier, and her face was pulled back to stretch her features. She had applied several potions to her hair, making it brighter, longer and more manageable, and he could smell the scent of a perfume he didn't recognise, which disguised the smell of cold tobacco.

She was pretty, but different. The Pansy he knew had a fringe and a straight bob, she wore black lipstick all the time and, above all, she didn't smell of chemical potions. He didn't feel the series of shivers down his arm as he held her, he didn't feel his heart beating faster as he looked at her, he didn't drown in her gaze as he danced.

He knew he felt nothing for Pansy. He always had.

He just hadn't understood that it was because his heart was already taken by someone else.

As if on cue, he heard Granger's laughter erupt a little further away. He didn't take his eyes off Pansy to look at her, even though it was extremely difficult. Every time a couple touched him, he wondered if it was her. As he lifted Pansy into the air, he tried to hear Granger's laughter beside him. His hands trembled.

Theo was dancing with Tracey Davis, and Blaise was dancing with Daphne. Blaise had put his hands a little lower than they should have been and was smiling at her. After the third loop of the waltz, Pansy broke eye contact and turned her head to watch the other couples. Occasionally, she would make mocking comments about some of the dancers, giggling. After a while she commented:

"Say, Weasley doesn't look too pleased with Granger's new date."

Draco turned his head sharply. Weasley was sitting at one of the round tables, next to a Patil twin. He had a sullen look on his face and was staring at Granger. His evening wear was awful, he looked like a scarecrow.

"Granger kept it a secret, then." Pansy analysed. "She must not have told the others who she was going with. I wonder how she got Viktor Krum to invite her. Do you think she gave him a love potion?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders to feign disinterest. He glanced at Granger, and especially at Krum, who had a look of ecstasy on his face. He gave the impression of having been contaminated by her, but Draco doubted it was because of a potion. Sometimes, they exchanged a few sentences in a low voice and laughed. Draco would have given a large part of his vault in Gringotts to hear what they were saying.

The dance ended and everyone applauded. Dumbledore announced the start of the meal and Draco returned to the table, this time without being dragged off by Pansy. They took their places around the table and Draco ordered the first thing he saw on the menu.

He wondered what Granger thought of this extra workload inflicted on the house elves, but she couldn't care less. She was sitting right behind Theo, next to Krum, so he had a perfect view of her and the fucking smile she was giving her date. She didn't seem to be thinking about the S.P.E.W at all.

Pansy, Theo and Tracey all started talking, and Blaise and Daphne leaned over each other to whisper. No one paid any attention to Draco, who took at least five minutes to realise that his plate had arrived. He dipped into it without appetite, trying not to look up too frequently at Granger.

She was now teaching Krum to pronounce his first name. He could hear her breaking down the syllables of her name over and over again, which was completely rubbish because "Hermione" was a very simple name and easy to pronounce. Krum slaughtered it every time and Granger gently encouraged him. As if he deserved a fucking Outstanding for getting a name right!

She barely ate, too entranced by the conversation. And he was barely eating, too entranced by what he was seeing. He watched her talking or nodding and felt his stomach contract. Weasley was sitting next to them, glaring at them. Get in line, Weaselbee, Draco thought bitterly.

Everyone around him was talking, eating and laughing, and he couldn't understand how the others could go on living their normal lives. He couldn't turn his attention to anything else. His mind was focused on the couple in front of him. How had Krum invited Granger? Had she said yes straight away, or had she blushed first? Had she done it out of revenge, or out of genuine affection for him? Did she feel something for him? Where had she bought that fucking dress?

"Hey, Blaise." called Draco. "Do you have that bottle of Butterbeer?"

Blaise nodded and handed him the big bottle of fake Butterbeer. Just by passing the bottle under his nose, he could smell the overpowering scent of Firewhisky. He didn't usually like drinking it, but now he leaned his head back to take a big gulp. Blaise raised his eyebrows but quickly returned to his conversation with Daphne.

He had thought that the jealousy would go away after the surprise. He was wrong. It surged through him as if mingling with his blood, sending a dose with every heartbeat. His hands were still shaking with anger. He couldn't calm down, despite the alcohol. But he was as dazzled as he was jealous.

Sometimes he lost himself in contemplating the girl at the table opposite, the way she hid her smile when she laughed with her hand, probably a vestige of her teeth complex. The way she leaned back when she listened to someone talking, or the way she slid the fork between her lips when she took a bite of something she thought was good.

She was different too, like Pansy. She didn't have any Charms on her face, but Draco could see the differences, even from a distance. Her hair was the most shocking. It was straight, tied up in an elaborate bun that didn't look at all like her. He preferred her hair loose, which she tucked behind her ear, even though it had the annoying habit of coming back in front of her face all the time. Someone had put make-up on her, accentuating her features in certain places, like her cheeks, which were not their natural colour.

She was beautiful, but she wasn't... her. It wasn't this Granger he'd fallen in love with, he'd fallen for the girl in the Library, the girl who talked too fast, forgot her teas and always had a sharp retort to throw at him in a proud tone. He had fallen for the feverish girl, with her hair flying all over the place and her high-pitched voice.

And seeing that girl's overdressed reply had made him realise.

Suddenly, she stood up to follow Krum onto the dance floor. Draco followed her with his eyes, her blue dress flying behind her, and even if he tried, he couldn't manage to concentrate on anything else. The band hosting the Ball had started playing again, so Granger and Krum had started dancing again, and Draco took a sip of whisky every time Krum grazed her.

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Hermione


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Hermione entered the Great Hall in a line behind Fleur Delacour. She was gripping Viktor's arm a little too tightly, but he didn't seem to notice. They walked to the dance floor, and Hermione stared straight ahead so as not to be disturbed by the other students around her. The only two people she could make out were Fred and George, who had their mouths wide open and didn't seem to believe what they were seeing. Hermione had to contain herself to keep from laughing.

They finally arrived at the dance floor and had to wait until all the students had entered before they could start dancing. Her hands were sweaty and she was finding it harder and harder to breathe. Viktor squeezed her arm in a comforting gesture:

"Don't vorry." he said gently. "I vill guide you."

Hermione shyly nodded her head, and then music erupted, along with a round of applause. Hermione saw that a group of musicians had set up on the stage, and recognised the group of the Weird Sisters that Ginny was always talking about. She didn't have time to observe the redhead's reaction, however, because Fleur Delacour and her date had dashed ahead of them and she was due to enter the stage at any second.

Her breath caught as she was swept into the centre by Viktor. She could hear the murmurs of the other students over the music, which made her even more anxious. She couldn't feel her legs, even though she was supposed to be using them soon. Viktor leaned over slightly and asked her with a smile:

"Feeling a bit stressed?"

His tone was so ironic that Hermione burst out laughing, which relaxed her a little. Viktor then approached her and placed his left hand on her waist. Hermione took a deep breath and began the steps that Fred and George had taught her in the Common Room.

She was surprised at how well she remembered them. She didn't step on Viktor's feet and remembered every loop. Besides, the boy's grip was even firmer than Fred's, so all she had to do was follow his movements. Hermione didn't feel like she was making a fool of herself. When he carried her and twirled her around, he winked at her to make her laugh.

By the end of the second loop, she had completely forgotten her fear. She had even forgotten about the other students in the room, until other couples joined in the dance. The Champions were no longer the centre of attention. She'd never believed it could be so fast.

They continued to dance all the same. Viktor made jokes to relax her, and it worked, because with every laugh, her shoulders relaxed. She finally took her eyes off Viktor to study the other couples dancing around them. Harry and Parvati were next to them, and while Parvati was comfortable, Harry was a little stiff and avoided looking at her for too long. Neville, to her surprise, turned out to be an excellent dancer, twirling Ginny effortlessly and drawing all eyes to them.

"You look beautiful, Hermy-own." said Viktor. "I'm the happiest date tonight."

"Thank you Viktor." replied Hermione, praying that he wouldn't see her blushes under the starlit sky of the Great Hall. "I must confess... I never thought you could invite me."

"Vhy?" asked the Bulgarian with a frown. "You're the most beautiful girl in Hogvarts."

"Far from it. I mean, you've got dozens of girls coming to see you in the Library every day. I thought you'd be interested in one of them." Hermione admitted.

He rolled his eyes to show his disdain for his own fan club.

"No vay." he said firmly. "I'm not interested in them. In fact, I used to come to the Library just to vatch you study, Hermy-own." he added, suddenly more shyly. "I tried to come and talk to you, but I never had the nerve."

Now he could definitely see Hermione's flushed cheeks. She had to look away to avoid showing her embarrassment and answered softly:

"Oh. I... I would never have thought that. It means a lot to me, Viktor."

He smiled a little and grabbed her hips at that moment to lift her into the air. He spun round and landed her gently on her two feet. The music ended on a final note, and they stopped dancing. Hermione wasn't even out of breath.

Viktor took her hand and brushed her knuckles in a gallant kiss, then they went back to their seats at the round tables. Hermione spotted Harry, but not Ron, whom she still hadn't seen since the beginning of the evening.

Viktor pulled out a chair and invited her to sit down, at which point Fred and George suddenly appeared next to them. They took advantage of the fact that Viktor's attention was on a friend of his from Durmstrang to exclaim softly:

"HERMIONE ! MERLIN, KRUM! VIKTOR KRUM!" exclaimed George.

"BRAVO! BRAVO, WELL DONE! SCANDALOUS! IMPREVISIBLE! AND YOU DID THE DANCE PERFECTLY! FANTASTIC!" cried Fred, in a strangely high-pitched voice.

She had never seen the twins so excited. They kept pointing at Krum, then they returned to their table before Hermione could reply.

Viktor handed her a menu and Hermione ordered the peking duck. Then she got into a fascinating conversation with Viktor, who told her all about Durmstrang, his apprenticeship and his family. He had a little sister, Elena, who wanted to become a Quidditch player, like him. She told him about her parents, her love of reading and Hogwarts.

Her peking duck disappeared when she hadn't even realised she'd started eating. She ate her slice of frosted lemon tart while listening to Viktor, and the meal was over, so quickly that she didn't feel like she'd started it.

The Weird Sisters resumed their music and Hermione stood up to continue dancing. She felt like expending her energy, because she was still feeling the adrenaline of stress. It wasn't the same waltz, it was a bit more rhythmic than the one before, but Viktor guided her so well that she didn't need to concentrate on the movements of her feet. They continued their conversation and went from one tune to the next.

She noticed that Viktor was looking less and less stressed too. For an international Quidditch player, Hermione thought he was used to this kind of attention, but it seemed not. As he talked, he became less tense and more at ease with her. Under the starry sky, she could see his white scars more clearly. He had one on his chin that she hadn't noticed before.

At the end of a song, Fred approached them with a proud smile. Viktor pulled away from Hermione gently.

"Can I borrow her?" asked Fred in Viktor's direction. "She owes me a dance."

"Of course." replied Viktor. "I vill go get some drinks."

Hermione nodded and Viktor moved away from the dance floor. Fred took his place and greeted Hermione exaggeratedly, with a flurry of curtsies and hand gestures.

"Would you be so kind as to allow me this dance, mademoiselle?" he asked in a honeyed tone.

"Please do." replied the brunette with a smile. "After all, it was you who taught me everything."

The waltz began again and Fred put his hand on her waist to pull her along with him.

"Great master move, Hermione." Fred commented proudly. "You were right, it was spectacular. We would never have guessed it was Viktor Krum. I mean, Viktor Krum! The most famous Quidditch player in the world!"

Hermione felt like she'd heard that phrase a hundred times since the summer. She nodded:

"Yes, it was quite... nerve-wracking."

"You did well. The student has surpassed the master." said Fred. "Did you see Ron's face? He was completely flabbergasted. Excellent revenge."

Hermione smiled at the praise. She was afraid she had made a fool of herself.

"I'm delighted to hear it. Is Angelina enjoying the party?"

"Yes, she's gone to powder her nose." he replied. Then he seemed to realise something: "Wait a minute. How did you know I was Fred and not George?"

"I've known how to tell you apart since my first year." Hermione replied. "It's easy, when you pay a bit of attention."

"I always thought you gambled on luck every time." Fred admitted with a raised eyebrow.

"No, never." she said with a false hint of arrogance. "I'm just very perceptive."

"That's for sure." replied Fred with a grin, then he carried her one last time and sent her a knowing smile. "Perceptive, as well as being an excellent dancer. Krum must be proud to have you as his date, Mione."

He took her hand to kiss her knuckles, just like Krum, but with a very Fred Weasley mischievous air, before returning to sit at his table.

Viktor still hadn't returned, so there was probably a queue at the bar. So Hermione went and sat down on the empty chair next to Harry, and sighed happily when she finally rested her legs after so much dancing.

"Hot, isn't it?" asked Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. Her make-up must have smudged. "Viktor went to get a drink."

"Viktor?" snapped Ron coldly. "You're not still calling him Vicky?"

Hermione turned to him, she hadn't even recognised him before she sat down. Probably because of the hideous robe he was wearing, a faded greenish colour with a white collar around his head. He looked in a very bad mood.

"What's up with you?" she asked, surprised by his question.

"If you don't know, don't expect me to tell you." he said curtly.

She had no idea what he was talking about. Hermione glanced at Harry who shrugged. Maybe Padma had refused to dance with him?

"Ron, what-?"

"He's from Durmstrang!" he exploded. "He's competiting against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You're... you're... you're fraternising with the enemy, that's what you're doing!"

Hermione couldn't believe her ears.

"Don't be stupid!" she said after a moment of astonishment. "The enemy! Honestly! Who was all excited when he got here? Who wanted an autograph? Who's got a figurine of him in their dormitory?"

Ron's ears turned red. Was he really jealous?

"I suppose he asked you to go to the Ball with him when you were both in the Library?" he asked, his tone as hard as ever.

"Yes he did. So what?"

"What happened?" he continued, and his voice rose to a crescendo. "Trying to get him to join spew, were you?"

"No I wasn't!" refuted Hermione. "If you really want to know, he... he said he came to the Library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!"

This sentence annoyed Ron even more.

"Yes, well, that's his story." Ron said, averting his eyes from hers. He was looking over Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione was beginning to lose patience. She didn't want to cause a scene in front of Harry, but she was too irritated by Ron's ungrateful behaviour to let it happen.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Obvious, isn't it?" said Ron. "He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hand around with. He's simply trying to get close to Harry. He wants to get information, or find an opportunity to jinx him..."

Hermione opened her mouth in amazement, but her surprise suddenly turned to anger, making her voice tremble:

"I'll have you know that he didn't ask me a single thing about Harry, not a single..."

She looked at Harry to check that he didn't share the same opinion as Ron. She'd never imagined that coming to the Ball with Viktor would be a source of conflict with Harry over the Tournament. Fortunately, Harry was as surprised as she was by Ron's attitude. He went on, his face now red with anger:

"So he's just hoping that you'll help him solve his egg! I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cosy little Library sessions..."

"It would never occur to me to help him with the egg!" snapped Hermione. "Never! How can you say such a thing! I want Harry to win the Tournament and he knows that, don't you, Harry?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply but Ron interrupted him.

"You've got a funny way of showing it."

His cruel tone hurt Hermione enormously. His insinuations were really unfair.

"This Tournament is about meeting wizards from other countries and making friends with them!"

"No, it's not!" cried Ron, "It's about winning!"

He had shouted that last sentence, so loudly that students were beginning to listen in on their exchange. Hermione knew she should be red with shame and anger, but the indignation she felt at Ron was so strong that she couldn't discolour it.

"Ron." Harry said softly. "I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum..."

Hermione felt a wave of affection for her best friend.

"You'd better get back to Vicky, he'll be wondering where you've been." Ron said curtly before turning resolutely, almost with his back to her, like a child.

"Don't call him Vicky!" shouted Hermione as she leapt to her feet.

She made her way away from Ron as quickly as possible. He'd been getting on her nerves a lot lately, but he'd just broken all records. She was furious. She'd been having a great evening, she'd laughed for the first time in a long time, and Ron had managed to spoil everything!

Hermione wanted to stamp her foot to condense her rage. This was so unfair! If he was jealous, why hadn't he invited her in the first place? He hadn't even thought of doing it, and now he wanted revenge!

She looked around for Ginny to tell her - or rather to yell to vent her anger - but she was dancing with George and she didn't want to disturb her. She spun around in the hope of finding Viktor, but he had disappeared and there were too many students around her to see anything.

Frantic, Hermione decided to go and freshen up in the bathroom. Her mascara must have run from the tears of fury she hadn't been able to hold back. She turned around abruptly and went through the door to the Great Hall.

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Draco


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Granger and Krum's dance lasted an eternity. They danced non-stop to the music, chatting and laughing, and Draco was forced to watch them as the tear in his heart deepened with each passing second.

Draco continued to drink, and the alcohol burn eventually faded. He felt the first effects of the drink calming him a little, just a little. Jealousy continued to run through his veins like an acid poison, but he could breathe easily. Pansy was enjoying a lemon ice cream next to him, but Draco was unable to swallow anything but the whisky.

Had she enchanted her dress to fly around her? It had to be magic, because she moved far too elegantly for it to be natural. Where had she learned to dance like that? Had she ever danced with Krum before?

Draco thought back to what Pansy had said at the opening dance. "I wonder how she got Viktor Krum to invite her." Granger had never spoken to Krum, she'd spent her time criticising him and his Library fan club. She had never even looked at him. When they were hiding at their table behind the shelves, Krum could never have...

Draco swallowed hard, painfully, as he realised. They must have bonded in the Library when Granger changed tables. Krum must have taken advantage of an evening when no one was around to talk to her and ask her to the Ball. An evening when Draco hadn't been there, because he'd decided to stop talking to her.

Why, again? He'd forgotten.

Because when he saw her there, dancing, he couldn't think of any good reason. He'd forgotten his father's letter, he'd forgotten the threat hanging over him, he'd forgotten her blood status, he'd forgotten all the reasons.

Merlin had taken his revenge. Draco had wanted to get away from her, so he'd put his mistake in front of her eyes. It was the worst revenge possible.

Granger and Krum drew apart as one of the Weasley twins came to meet them. Unlike Ron Weasley, this twin was much better dressed. His evening gown was obviously second-hand, like everything else belonging to the Weasleys, but it had the merit of being in better taste. He approached with a smile, spoke to Krum for a few seconds and Krum moved away, leaving them to dance together.

Draco felt a new wave of jealousy, but much less acidic than the last. Granger and the twin were clearly friends. His hands didn't wander over her any more than necessary. Granger seemed content to dance with him.

"Draco?"

The blond turned to Blaise. He hadn't seen him get up, now standing in front of him with a smile on his face.

"Will you allow me to borrow your date for this dance?"

He gestured towards Pansy, who was smiling. Draco almost rolled his eyes. Blaise hadn't lost his Italian gentlemanly manners, only he would ask someone's permission to lend him his date. Especially Pansy.

"Of course you can." he replied with a shrug.

Pansy was on her feet in a second and grabbed Blaise's hand. They both walked away and Draco watched them reach the dance floor. Blaise bent towards Pansy in a gallant curtsy. A little further on, Theo was now dancing with Millicent Bulstrode. He was doing well, at least well enough for someone who had hated his dance lessons as a child.

Draco turned to the rest of the table. Only Crabbe and Goyle remained, and Daphne Greengrass was looking at Pansy and Blaise with an indecipherable look on her features. Draco knew he was supposed to ask her to dance, as it was customary to exchange dates, but he had no desire to dance with Daphne Greengrass, so he pretended not to see her.

"No, it's not! It's about winning!"

Weasley's voice echoed next to Draco and he turned to try and find him. He was sitting at the next table, with Potter and - his stomach churned as he saw her - Granger. Draco hadn't noticed that she'd stopped dancing with the Weasley twin. She didn't look happy any more: her eyes bulged with anger.

Draco watched their silent exchange intently. They were clearly arguing, and Granger looked like she was fighting back tears. She was looking at the redhead with an expression that resembled the one she'd had when Draco had rejected her a few weeks earlier. Draco wondered how Weasley could stand up to her when she looked like she was about to slap him.

Potter, who was in the middle of the two and obviously uncomfortable, whispered something to Weasley that Draco didn't hear. It sounded like he was coming to Granger's defence, which was rather surprising.

"You'd better get back to Vicky." Weasley said curtly, looking at Granger with disgust. "He'll be wondering where you've been."

"Stop calling him Vicky!" shouted Granger as she rose to her feet in a fury.

She took refuge in the crowd, fluttering her blue dress around her, before suddenly disappearing. Draco hadn't realised that he had risen at the same time as her. He moved automatically to where she had gone, without thinking. He looked for a blue flash between the dancers, but couldn't find it.

He looked for Krum. He wanted to know if she had sought him out to tell him what had happened. Were they close enough to confide in each other like that? They'd only known each other for less than a month, so she probably wouldn't go to him. He looked for Weaslette, but she was dancing and hadn't noticed the argument between Granger and her brother.

Suddenly, a bolt of blue lightning flashed past Draco's right, and he had just time to turn his head and see Granger fleeing through the doors of the Great Hall. His feet moved forward on their own to follow her. He pushed the students in front of him to get to the exit even more quickly, and found himself at the entrance to the Hall.

A few girls were crying on the stairs leading to the upper floors, but none of them was wearing a blue dress. Draco continued towards the doors leading outside, but there was no one left in the courtyard. He went back inside and took the first corridor he saw. He was moving fast, far too fast for someone who had no idea what he was doing. It was as if all his movements were impulsive and calculated at the same time.

He almost turned back when he heard a sort of strangled sob in the corridor to his right. He recognised Granger at once, and almost ran to join her. As he turned, he saw her at last. She had her back to him and was making her way up the corridor, probably to the bathroom.

As he watched her get further and further away, Draco realised how much he missed her. He desperately wanted to talk to her. To hear her voice, even when it was high-pitched and unbearable. He wanted her to look at him. It had been too long since he had looked into her eyes.

He kept moving. It was probably the alcohol that was guiding him, but he let himself be carried along. He reached Granger in a few strides and grabbed her arm from behind. She turned towards him and her eyes widened at the sight. She let out a hiccup of surprise.

"Malfoy, what are you..." she stammered.

He tightened his grip on her arm and led her into the first room he saw to his left: a classroom, miraculously open. He stepped inside without letting go of her and was delighted to see that she wasn't trying to evade him. Once inside the classroom, he reluctantly removed his hand. He closed the door and stood in front of her.

"What the fuck, Granger?" he blurted out harshly.

It was the alcohol speaking for him, even if it was only making him tell the truth. He ran a hand through his hair. Granger went from amazement to exasperation and crossed her arms over her chest:

"I beg your pardon?"

"With Viktor Krum? Are you serious? You couldn't have chosen someone else?"

He was aware he was venting his anger, but he needed to tell her. Granger frowned, outraged:

"Excuse me?" she repeated.

"Do you know how old he is?" continued Draco without controlling his flow of words. "He's three years older than you! And he's from Durmstrang! What the hell are you doing with him?"

"I have every right to come to the Ball with whoever I want!" she snapped.

"Granger, he's an international Quidditch player! He has a fan club in the Library, you've been complaining about it for weeks yourself! How could you seriously think he'd have the slightest interest in you? He's clearly invited you for something else!"

Her eyes were round now, and her mouth was wide open in surprise. She was staring at Draco as if he'd gone completely mad, which, incidentally, he probably had. He kept running his hand through his hair and started pacing in front of her to avoid looking at her. She was so annoying!

"You're supposed to be super smart, right?" he continued without looking at her. "The Knows-It-All of Hogwarts, and you fall for it? You honestly think he likes you?"

"Whether Viktor likes me or not, what do you care?" she said hotly to interrupt him. "It's absolutely none of your business!"

"Because you honestly think I'm going to stand here and do nothing?" he resumed, even though it made no sense and he knew it. "That I was going to watch you dance with Krum?"

"You're the one who stopped talking to me! You're the one who cut me off, saying we could 'never been friends', that 'you still hated me', that I was 'a fucking Gryffindor', and that 'you didn't want to be seen with a Mudblood!'" she screamed.

The fact that she was repeating his own sentences was excruciatingly painful. It was as if she had memorised them, whereas he hadn't thought a word of them. Draco continued pacing back and forth, trying to get rid of the alcohol that was clouding his head and making him talk too fast.

"I didn't think that meant you were going to run into Viktor Krum's arms!" he barked. "How long did it take for him to come to your table in the Library? This guy is dangerous, Granger! He's on the opposite side!"

"Oh my God, stop it, you sound like Ron!" she cut in, exasperated.

This stopped Draco in his tracks. Anger was prickling his skin all over, and his head was spinning. He turned towards her: some rebellious locks had escaped from her bun. Her chocolate eyes were flashing, just like Weasley's a few minutes before. She was furious, and fuck, so much the better, because so was he.

"So that's why you were arguing with him? Because he's jealous of Krum?" he blurted out bitterly.

"That's none of your business! My discussion with Ron was private, you weren't supposed to hear it!"

"Oh, stop it Granger, half the Great Hall heard."

Granger's cheeks began to flush, but she was as angry as ever.

"You're stupid, both of you. My date is none of your business, least of all yours. I don't owe you anything. I thought I could be your friend, but you're the most insufferable boy I've ever known, and you've made it abundantly clear that you want nothing more to do with me either!"

Even through the rage Draco felt, he couldn't help but feel a hint of satisfaction. Granger was there, talking to him, instead of dancing with Krum or Weasley. She hadn't run off the minute he'd taken her to the classroom. That had to mean she cared about him at all, didn't it?

She was ranting and raving, almost stamping her foot in indignation. And Draco loved it. He loved the fact that she felt the same way as he did at that moment, he loved arguing with her and getting that adrenalin shot he'd missed so much. He loved it when she took an interest in him, even if it was hatred, and finally spoke to him.

"And for your information..." continued Granger. "Viktor is polite, courteous, and interesting. I'm having a wonderful evening with him, and I'm delighted to be his date. Not because he's a Quidditch player, and certainly not because he's a Durmstrang student, but because he's a captivating boy. Nothing like you, who can turn out to be a profound moron when he wants to be."

She punctuated her sentence with a snide click of her tongue.

"My intentions were clear, Granger." he resumed in a hard voice. "Unlike him. I've never let you down, because I was clear from the start. I can't be friends with you. He wants to appear perfect in your eyes, only to destroy you afterwards, that's obvious."

Granger shook his head vigorously.

"Nonsense. You don't know that. You've never spoken to him!"

"I don't need to talk to him to know what's in his head. He clearly wants something in return!" exclaimed Draco.

"So what if he does? Even so, what makes you think I'm not interested in him?" cut in Granger.

Draco's blood ran cold at this. He took a step closer to her and gave her the most menacing look he could muster, hissing through his teeth:

"Don't say that."

"Then admit it." she said, suddenly in a whisper.

She wasn't intimidated by his attitude, she looked at him quietly, without batting an eyelid. She reminded him of Blaise.

"Admit what?" he asked.

They were far too close. Their proximity made him dizzy. He wanted to keep screaming from one end of the room to the other, it was safer than when she was so close to him.

"That you're jealous." she said.

He was. He was undeniably jealous. All the same, he shook his head:

"Not at all."

"If you're not jealous, why are you reacting like this, then?"

"I..."

"Ron's jealous. It's obvious." she continued, and her voice was strangely soft. "I know it, Harry knows it, even he knows it. He's jealous because someone else invited me, and I accepted. But what about you, Draco? Why are you jealous? I thought you hated me?"

She moved a little closer to him. Her eyes were full of challenge, and it unnerved him so much he couldn't find his words. The fact that she was wearing that dress wasn't helping. He didn't know if he wanted to keep screaming or if he wanted to kiss her. He looked at her lips and wanted to lean down to reach them and break the tension around them that had suddenly become oppressive.

She was waiting for an answer, her arms still crossed, her gaze provocative, and her whole body emanating a heat he could feel from where he stood. Her cheeks were red and burning. She had never looked as feverish as she did at that moment. Draco wanted to hold her close to feel her skin against his.

"I'm not jealous, Granger." he said unconvincingly.

They were only inches apart, and all of Draco's anger had evaporated without him noticing. He no longer felt the rage, only the adrenalin. He wondered for a moment if she wasn't the one who was going to kiss him at any second, she was shifting her gaze to his lips too. He lowered his head dangerously, leaned towards her...

A sweet scent came over him then. Granger's hair. He inhaled and widened his eyes as he recognised it. It was the smell of Amortentia, which Theo had made him smell in third year. Strawberry. Despite the hairspray she'd applied to her hair, the scent was instantly recognisable: it was exactly the same flavour as the potion. Intoxicating.

Proof.

Proof that he was madly in love with her.

He took a few steps back under the impact of this realisation. Was what he'd smelt in Amortentia her scent? Books in the Library... Cinnamon teas... Why hadn't he realised?

He must have been very confused, because Granger was looking at him strangely. He was suddenly frightened. He knew how he felt about her, but the Amortentia, it made it concrete. Real. It wasn't a passing fancy. It was real.

He backed up a little more, opened the door and ran out without a backward glance.

.

.


Hermione


.

.

Hermione returned to the Great Hall even more upset than when she had left. She felt as if she had been dreaming for the last few moments. She was probably hallucinating, Draco Malfoy would never have done that. He would never have said those words. He would never have been jealous...

"Herm-own-ninny!"

Hermione raised her head and joined Krum in the middle of the still-crowded Great Hall. He was holding two Butterbeers in his hands.

"I have been looking all over for you! Vere have you been?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

She took the Butterbeer from his hand and drank a long gulp in one go. Then she wiped her mouth in an unrefined manner and looked at Krum, who seemed surprised.

"Just to the bathroom." she lied with a smile. "Thanks for the Butterbeer, I was dying of thirst. All that dancing wore me out!"

She took another sip. Fortunately, Krum didn't comment on her radical change of attitude and drank from his too.

Krum started a conversation, the one they had left before Fred arrived to dance with her, but Hermione found it hard to follow. Her mind kept going back to her argument with Malfoy. It had happened so quickly that she could hardly believe it had actually happened. Why had he been jealous? And why had he come so close to her?

She continued sipping, pretending to listen to Viktor, even though her head was still over there, in the classroom. After a while, the Bulgarian suggested that they continue dancing, and Hermione noticed at that moment that the music of the Weird Sisters had changed register. Now it was rock. Ginny was in the centre of the dance floor, just below the stage, dancing with George.

Hermione agreed and put her Butterbeer on the table before letting herself be carried along by Viktor. She noticed that Ron and Harry were gone, but more importantly, that Draco still hadn't returned to the Great Hall. No matter how hard she looked for him at the tables, he was nowhere to be found. She wondered what he could be doing.

She found herself in the centre of the dance floor, surrounded by dancers who were far too enthusiastic for her liking. Viktor started to dance in front of her, and she followed suit, pretended to smile, but Hermione was far too preoccupied to get involved.

It was ironic. She'd argued with Ron and Draco because she'd wanted to show them that she liked the fact that she'd gone to the Ball with Viktor, whereas now she had no idea why she'd agreed to it. In the space of a week, she'd learned that four boys had an interest in her. And Hermione certainly wasn't used to attracting so much interest.

With each new piece of music, Hermione could discern a shrill howl from Ginny, or cries like "that's my favourite!". Yet it seemed to be the same song over and over again. Hermione's legs ached, and she was beginning to feel a headache pounding at her temples.

At the end of what seemed like Ginny's four hundredth favourite song, Hermione managed to glance between the dancers, and saw Draco. He had sat down at his table, next to Crabbe and Goyle. He was drinking from the neck of a bottle, and Hermione had a hunch that it wasn't Butterbeer in it.

He was staring at her, no expression on his face. The Draco who had screamed in the classroom was far, far away.

"You dance so vell, Herm-own-ninny." Krum said, leaning towards her with a smile.

"Oh, thank you. You're doing very well too."

He smiled warmly at the compliment. Hermione didn't feel like she was dancing well at all. She had much preferred their impromptu dance in the Gryffindors Common Room, when Fred and George had taught her to rock dance and howled with laughter for hours.

Finally, at last, the band performed their last tune, more deafening than ever, before retiring from the stage to a round of applause. Hermione couldn't feel her legs any more, she felt as if her dress was stuck to her body because she was sweating so much, and her headache had definitely got worse.

All the students headed for the exit, leaving behind an unrecognisable Great Hall filled with empty bottles and crumpled clothes. Ginny, who was scarlet from so much dancing, walked off the dance floor clinging to Neville's arm.

"I vill valk you to the exit." Viktor offered gallantly.

She nodded and followed him. He placed his hand on the small of her back, as if to guide her. She felt a little shiver run down her back where he had put his hand, but she wasn't sure whether it was pleasure or embarrassment.

Draco had disappeared. She looked for him as she left the Great Hall, among the crowd saying goodbye before returning to their dormitories. She found Theodore Nott, who was kissing Millicent Bulstrode's cheek with a smile, but Draco was nowhere to be seen.

"I had an excellent evening, Herm-own-ninny." Krum said, which brought her back to reality.

"So did I. Thank you so much for inviting me, I had a great time."

"My pleasure. Ve vill be seeing each other in the Library, right?" asked Viktor.

She thought bitterly that she would prefer to be in the Library with another boy, but she quickly dismissed the idea.

Viktor took her hand and placed a gallant kiss on her knuckles. When he bent down, she could see a film of sweat on the back of his neck. He really seemed to enjoy this evening, perhaps he wasn't used to dancing like this. It was quite liberating, when your head was empty of problems.

"All right, then. Thanks again for tonight. See you later, Viktor." Hermione said with what she hoped was a sincere smile.

She turned around, and then met the icy, greyish, hard gaze of Draco Malfoy, right next to her. Hermione hadn't seen him at all, and it almost startled her. He still had that marble face, but she could easily detect the anger behind it. He said nothing, so she turned her back on him and walked up the stairs back to her dormitory.

But of course her evening wasn't complicated enough as it was. Of course she bumped into Ron, and of course he glowered at her. She quickly climbed the stairs to put as much distance between her and him as possible. She didn't have the strength to talk to Ron at the moment.

She had reached the second floor when she heard his voice behind her:

"Hermione! Hermione, wait!"

She quickened her steps. Behind her, she could see Ron trying to pass her by jumping up the steps two at a time. Her stupid heels prevented her from doing that. And Harry was gone.

"Hermione! Stop, Merlin!" shouted Ron up the stairs.

The one she'd just left and Ron was starting to climb suddenly detached itself from the fifth floor and swung to the left. She heard Ron swear behind her. She continued to walk at full speed, despite the fact that her legs were about to give way at any moment.

She kept going until she came to the portrait of the Fat Lady, panting. Hermione said the password and found herself in the Common Room, but the fire had warmed the place up too much, or she was hot from exertion, because she suddenly felt overheated. She had to lean against the edge of the sofa to take a deep breath.

The Gryffindors Common Room was empty. She removed her heels, which were pounding her feet. She was about to go up to her dormitory when she heard the portrait behind her open, and Ron storm into the room.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, breathless as can be. "Didn't you hear me yelling at you on the stairs?"

"I don't want to talk to you, Ron." she said curtly. "You've ruined everything!"

That wasn't entirely true, but the real person who'd put her in that state wasn't standing in front of her, so she preferred to take out her anger on Ron, selfishly.

"I've only told you the truth, Hermione!" snapped Ron, "This guy's not straightforward, he's clearly trying to win you over. I don't like it at all!"

His face was red with anger and effort. But she had to be the same. Her skull was about to explode, her vision had even become blurred. She absolutely had to sit down.

"Well, if you don't like it, you know you know that the solution is, don't you?"

she yelled.

Hermione vaguely heard the sound of the portrait opening, but she didn't pay the slightest attention to it. She was feeling far too much emotion at the moment to add embarrassment to it.

"Oh yeah?" retorted Ron, still as furious as ever. "And what's that?"

"Next time there's a Ball, summon up your courage and ask me before someone else does. And not as a last resort!"

Ron widened his eyes and stammered incomprehensible words. Hermione took advantage of this moment of distraction to retrieve her shoes, and climbed the stairs to her dormitory without looking back.

.

.


Draco


.

.

Trying to calm down on the usual bench wasn't a very good idea. Several couples had escaped the party to go for a walk outside, and some were even kissing on the benches around him. And seeing people kissing was definitely not what Draco wanted to see right now.

So he returned to the Great Hall, still as agitated as ever. He didn't even know what he was feeling any more. Before entering the classroom he had been seething with anger, now he was just... seething. Of what, he didn't know. And the alcohol wasn't helping.

Pansy was now dancing with Theo. She was teaching him some new moves and they were both laughing so hard that Pansy's face was flushed. Perhaps she hadn't noticed Draco's absence. Blaise had returned to the dance floor with Daphne and was leaning close to her ear. Their four glasses were left on the table where Draco sat down heavily.

His gaze automatically wandered in search of Granger. She was there, on the dance floor, with Krum. There was no sign that she'd just had an argument with her sworn enemy in a classroom. Perhaps she looked slightly less cheerful than she had at the beginning of the evening. More beat up. And a few flyaways had escaped from her pretty hairstyle. But perhaps he was the only one to notice such details.

Draco swore between his teeth. He still hadn't digested what had happened in the last few minutes. It was her scent in Amortentia, the one he'd smelled last June with Theo. He hadn't understood it at all at the time, because he'd been too focused on the fact that it wasn't Pansy to really concentrate on the scents in question. Yet she'd been making herself bloody cinnamon teas all the time at the Library. How could he not understand that?

And what did it mean?

Had he been in love with her since third year?

Or before?

Was she the one for him?

Did he still hate her?

All the questions that had just emerged in his brain swirled around for long minutes. Draco was at the height of his stress, his leg was twitching with nervous spasms and he kept running a hand through his hair. From time to time, he took a sip of the Firewhisky that Blaise had passed him.

And he continued to watch Granger dance the whole time.

At the end of the Ball, everyone applauded and his group of friends returned to the table, hilarious and out of breath. They talked enthusiastically about the Weird Sisters concert and made their way back to the exit. Draco, who hadn't listened to any of the music on stage, let himself be carried away by the band. He was feeling ill: all the alcohol he'd drunk and the lack of food was weighing down on his stomach and threatening to rise again.

When Theo and Pansy reached the entrance hall in front of the Great Hall, Draco finally found Granger. She was slightly behind, accompanied by Krum. When Draco noticed the Bulgarian's hand on Granger's lower back, he nearly gave back all the whisky.

He moved closer to them, pushing the people in front of him close enough to hear them talking.

"My pleasure. Ve vill be seeing each other in the Library, right?" asked Krum hopefully.

Certainly not, Draco thought.

The Library was their thing.

He hoped she was thinking the same thing right now.

"All right, then. Thanks again for tonight. See you later, Viktor." Granger said with a tired smile.

She turned at that moment, and found herself facing him. He hadn't anticipated being so close. For a moment he was caught by her chocolate eyes. Her polite smile faded and she gave him a dark look that stopped him in his tracks.

Then she walked away before a coherent thought had even formed in his mind.

"Draco, shall we go?" offered Blaise, who had arrived behind him.

"Yeah." he replied, and his voice was hoarse and strangled.

They returned to the dormitories in the underground part of the Castle, where the air was colder than anywhere else in the Castle. For once, Draco did not enjoy the sensation. He would have preferred somewhere warm and comfortable to think. Or outside, on his bench. He felt as if he was being suffocated in this room.

Draco decided to go to bed. He turned to Pansy:

"Pans', shall we go to bed?"

"I'm sleeping with Daphne tonight." she replied.

Her tone was so cold that Draco raised his eyebrows. She wasn't looking at him. She was furious. He probably hadn't danced with her enough. Knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to get her to talk when she was that upset, and that he didn't have the strength to convince her tonight, he gave up and went to the dormitory.

When he got to his room, he opened the drawer of his bedside table and swallowed the rest of the Dreamless Sleep potion in one gulp. He didn't bother to undress, or even to close the curtains, just lay back in bed and listened to the sound of his heart beating against the mattress before being carried away by the cottony smell of the potion.