Ch.25: The Gala
February 13, 1998
"Alright there, Princess?"
The witch in question stood still, unmoving as reality sunk in. From what she could see from where she stood, there was an abundance of witches and wizards dressed to the nines walking about in the courtyard.
Much like herself and her company.
Trembling hands smoothed out the silk-like fabric to the floor length gown. Layers of rich dark blues and purples and an enchanted shimmering effect made her appear as though she were an extension of the evening skies above. Sheer sleeves counterbalanced the backless aspect of the gown, never undermining her modesty while accentuating her feminine wiles.
The shop from which it came was one she had passed many times with the full intentions of window shopping. With the store's reputation laying notorious for their luxurious formal wear and high prices, she never felt compelled to enter before. That is, until she spotted this particular gown on display since the start of the year. With the upcoming gala only weeks away, she figured there was no harm in garnering some inspiration. Except the moment she stepped into it, she knew she'd made a colossal mistake. The sales associate assisting her turned out to be the owner. A kind middle-aged woman who offered Hermione the gown at a discounted rate, claiming it had been in the store for months at that point and she'd frequently seen her eyeing the piece through the window.
Needless to say, the dress had found a home that day.
Blaise himself opted for a black tie and waistcoat with a dark blue suit. Simple and classic, for both were in agreement that they didn't want to overdo complementing one another. Especially at a highly publicized event where there was a probable chance they would be photographed.
"A little nervous, is all," she answered, placing her hands on her lower belly to steady her nerves.
Despite the forewarning Draco gave her, nothing could have prepared her for the view she stumbled upon their arrival. In the lush countryside of Wiltshire, the courtyard was lit up and surrounded by delicate floating lanterns and adorned with muted, jovial chatter. Instead of a biting chill commonly associated with the middle of February, a mild warming charm had been cast. This kept it bearable for those wearing breathable gowns while leaving it comfortable for those wearing three piece suits.
As she and Blaise stepped forward and went deeper into the crowds, they noticed a fair amount of the guests were members of the Ministry, as expected. A fair few were recognizable from school. To be on the safe side, she'd mentally prepared for an onslaught of conversation starters. Whether it be from admirers who'd known her for her publicized heroic acts or from publicity dying to get the latest story. Much to her surprise and relief, she received neither. Only a few reporters were present, notably with the absence of one Rita Skeeter. Instead, the homogenous mixture of known purebloods and half-blood's alike were going about their business in socializing or dancing with company. Even a few muggleborns were in attendance. It wasn't long until they spotted a few familiar faces.
"Hermione!"
In an instant, she'd left Blaise's side and let out an excited breath as she was engulfed in a tight hold.
"I've missed you," she whispered, nuzzling warm skin. Harry chuckled, vibrations rumbling through her chest.
"You say that every time you see me."
"Doesn't make it any less true," she remarked, pulling away gradually, her eyes in search for red. "Where's Ginny?"
"In the restroom. She had to re-powder her nose," Harry said while straightening out his dress robes. Purple, she noted. A color she once said looked rather fetching on him. Safe to say tonight was no exception.
"Is that so?" She implored. "Strange as you haven't even been here for a minute."
"Yes, well she acquired some soot on our way out of the floo."
"I see," Hermione supplied, a trail of suspicion following. "She also told me you would be showing up at 7." A look of dread settled in when her time peace now read 7:37 and Harry's unease became more apparent. "You didn't."
He pursed his lips, unwilling to confirm her suspicions. Not that she needed him to.
"Are you kidding me? You couldn't have waited until after?"
"I hadn't seen her since the holiday!" he blurted, his voice a half-pitch higher.
"Where would you even—?" her words left her as the gears turned. Realistically, she knew the Manor had few options with the wards in place. The courtyard itself was far too well lit and crowded. Which only left the floo that had a constant flow of people entering and—
"You did it in his manor?!" Hermione hissed, utilizing her scolding parental tone.
"Not so loud!" He shushed, side-eyeing Blaise and Theo who were chattering away in their own conversation.
With a defeated sigh, she shook her head.
"I hope you cleaned up afterwards, at least." As soon as the words left her mouth, she turned on him, lit up in a rage. "That's why she's still there, isn't it? You left her all alone—"
"She volunteered!" Harry pleaded, holding his hands up in defense. "She knew I wanted to see you. Besides, she owed me for the last time this nearly happened in public and—you know what, it doesn't matter," he shifted at Hermione's horrified expression, his cheeks growing bright red. "You can't tell anyone about this."
His displeasure only intensified at the slight of mischief in her gaze. "Come on, Harry. You know me better than that. Who would I tell?" She quipped, knowing if a certain someone could bear witness to this, they'd be proud.
"I mean it, Hermione," he warned. "Especially not Malfoy. I want to use it against him one day when he inevitably takes the piss out of me."
"That would require for you to have an interaction with him," she retorted, knowing their little frolic had nothing on the knowledge Draco would eventually possess with time if he played his cards right. All the stories and embarrassing moments they had yet to share with each other.
"I imagine I'll be forced to deal with him sooner or later," Harry said offhandedly, and her throat closed up suddenly.
No.
He couldn't possibly know. Ginny had promised not to say anything. On multiple occasions. Then again, she did let it be known during one of their late night talks that she had a habit of being a screamer. After months of built up tension, who knows what could have come from her mouth during their romp in the bathroom just now.
"Ron and I are happy for you, you know," he said earnestly.
Hermione exhaled a sigh of relief, completely certain he was not referencing her secret relations with Malfoy. Ron would sooner throw himself off a ledge than accept her involvement with him.
"I'm hoping to get to know them a bit more tonight. Malfoy included if he can manage to be decent for a minute or two," Harry said with a slight grimace, although in a kind courtesy all the same. "You seem to trust him well enough."
"I do," she said firmly without hesitation.
"Then that's all that matters," he permitted, smiling slightly when she beamed at him. "And if he crosses me, Ginny and I can return the favor."
A bright laugh bubbled from her throat as she put her arm over his shoulder.
"Maturity looks good on you. You know, for someone freshly shagged."
"And you look like you've actually been getting sleep," he shot back.
"It wasn't that noticeable."
"Well I noticed, and I wear glasses so..." he trailed off, shrugging with a smirk. "Still, I can't help but feel like you've changed since we last saw each other."
"I'm still the same person, Harry," she attempted, a smile still present in spite of her rapidly increasing pulse. He shook his head.
"No. I mean, you are. And you're brilliant as always, but there's something different about you—"
"Tsk tsk, Princess," came a slow drawl, swiping both of their attentions. "I leave you alone for a minute and already, you're getting hit on by another bloke. Not that I'm at all surprised."
"Always the flatterer," Hermione grumbled, crossing her arms.
"It's how I made it this far. I should mention, Draco's manor has several bathrooms we have access to if you were interested," the wizard added, grinning widely at ruddy cheeks and a pleased smirk. The moment was cut short when Theo approached, visibly displeased with Blaise's remarks.
"Restrain yourself, Zabini."
"What? I'm allowed to flirt with my date, aren't I?" He played along, dropping the topic for the moment.
"Right. Not like anything's stopped you from flirting with anything with two legs before," Theo muttered just loud enough for the group to hear.
"Want to share with the rest of the class, Nott?"
The pair continued to bounce back and forth, Harry torn between putting a stop to the altercation or continue to spectate and see what happens.
"I'm going to go find Ginny," Hermione offered, slowly backing away from the pair of Slytherins increasing in volume. "You know, to make sure she doesn't need any help with powdering her nose."
She made her way across the courtyard towards the entrance to the manor before she was stopped suddenly.
"Miss Granger?"
Hermione turned to come face to face with Narcissa Malfoy approaching her with a charming smile gracing her features.
"Mrs. Malfoy, h-hello!" Her voice ended on a higher pitch when the elder unexpectedly pulled her in for a brief cheek kiss in greeting.
"How wonderful to see you," Narcissa said as she pulled back. "I hope you're enjoying the evening so far."
"O-oh! Yes, everything is lovely," Hermione stammered, hoping her cheeks weren't too red. "Your home looks so stunning. As do you, of course," she supplied, appreciating the sophisticated vibe she exuded in her modest, dark green evening gown.
"Thank you, dear." Narcissa took that moment to take in Hermione's own attire. "I must return the compliment. Your gown is exquisite."
"Oh, thank you. I'm not usually one to shop at Hailey's but I couldn't help myself when I saw it from the window." She could almost see the moment Narcissa perked up at the mention of the store name.
"Hailey's, you say?"
"Yes. The formalwear store at the corner of High Street and 3rd?"
"Yes, I'm familiar with it. The owner and I are on very good terms," she provided, a certain curiosity suddenly dawned on her expression. "Draco frequents that store, you know?"
Astonished, Hermione felt her jaw unhinge for a brief moment before she made her way through a response. "I don't think I would be the person to know that sort of information, Ms. Malfoy."
"No, I suppose not." The elder witch's eyes gleamed brightly, inquisition swirling in deep, blue pools. "You two have been getting along, I take it?"
"Something like that," Hermione said wryly. "He's pleasant enough when he wants to be."
Narcissa let out a soft laugh. "Sounds like my Draco."
"Is he around? I haven't seen him anywhere."
Her facial features turned downward into a look of mild displeasure. "He had something come up last minute which needed tending to. He should be down any second now."
Before Hermione could delve any further, both their attentions were snatched when a member of the Ministry cursed loudly as he was suddenly drenched in butterbeer from an oblivious guest who hadn't been watching where he was going. Despite the guest's apologetic babbling, the member which Hermione recognized to be Umbridge's replacement as Senior Undersecretary, began to grow tense. His nostrils flaring as he went after the unlucky guest.
"Goodness sake," Narcissa muttered in disapproval. "You'll have to excuse me, dear. Do enjoy the rest of your evening."
The muggleborn could only stand and watch as the witch walked away with the utmost elegance. Not at all appearing as though she was going to break up a fight between two irate men without breaking a sweat.
Hermione blinked, coming back to focus when a familiar redhead popped into view.
"Hermione?"
"Ginny. I was looking for you."
"Just finished up in the loo. I was—" she flushed.
"—powdering your nose?" Hermione concluded, raising a single brow. "Harry mentioned. Took you long enough."
"The bathroom was dark?" Ginny offered weakly.
"Explains why you missed a spot," Hermione retorted, casting a small glamour charm over the fresh bite on her neck. "If you're done defiling Malfoy's house, we really should be getting back."
As they approached the boys, they took notice of how all of their heads were thrown back, neck deep in laughter.
"Gods, what are they on now?" Hermione grumbled, dreading to ask.
Once they got closer, they noticed the presence of company that wasn't there previously. Both Hermione and Ginny watched in astonishment when they saw this person's close proximity to Theo and the way his eyes lit up around them.
"Granger! Weasley!" Theo waved them closer. "You both remember Oliver?"
"Oh y-yes, Oliver Wood, of course," stammered Hermione. Her shock deepened when she realized how familiar they were. Ginny herself wasn't faring any better. Harry had taken notice and decided to offer a way to break the tension.
"Gin, I was just talking to Wood about the game we saw last season together." In an instant, her trance had been broken and suddenly, fangirl Ginny took over.
"Good Godric, yes! I was elated for weeks after that game! Your last minute save was phenomenal!"
While Ginny and Oliver ran over details of his risky interception which resulted in his team's win for the season with Harry and Blaise listening along, Hermione managed Theo's attention.
"For someone who doesn't care for Quidditch, you sure do love to surround yourself with the sport," she quipped.
Theo huffed a laugh, smirking at her.
"I could say the same for you." She made a sound of acknowledgement, knowing he had a point. She had to endure it for so long, it almost felt wrong not to attend tryouts or practices regularly. She'd grown noticeably less defiant with accompanying Ginny to her practices with Draco. More often than not she didn't take her eyes off of Draco when they practiced. It was like she'd told her all along; he was a natural on a broom. "It sure makes them happy though, doesn't it?" Theo sighed happily as he watched Oliver excitedly explain plays he had in mind for this upcoming season.
"Well, isn't this cute?"
The slow, almost cruel voice sent chills down Hermione's spine. Apparently, the effect it had on everyone else was similar as the group fell to silence. In the second that followed, Pansy Parkinson stepped up next to Wood, leaning against him with a hand on a cocked hip. "Sorry to intrude. You all looked far too cheerful, and it makes me physically ill."
"Salazar's fucking sack," exhaled Theo in disbelief.
"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" She teased, and Blaise was the first to break their stance by approaching her.
"Friends, huh? Didn't know you thought so highly of us," Blaise snorted, grinning widely as he embraced her in a hold that contrasted the hostility in the previous words exchanged.
"It was bound to happen," she purred darkly and pulled away, turning her head to Theo. "Get your arse over here, Nott." Without hesitation, the wizard happily ran up to hug her while the man previously at his side shuffled his feet. "Feel free to stay over there, Wood," she mumbled into Theo's shoulder. "No need to make this any more awkward."
Oliver nodded meekly, seeming to relax at her words. Meanwhile, Hermione and Harry side eyed one another, unable to come to terms with what was happening in front of them.
"So, McGonagall hasn't kicked you lot out yet?" Pansy prompted snidely, to which Blaise barked a laugh.
"Not yet, but there's still time."
"My bet is the teachers are still reeling to be rid of you." Theo added in, chuckling.
"Can't say I blame them," Pansy feign sighed, shaking her head. "I never was a model student," she smirked, her eyes passing over the pair of wizards who couldn't look more out of place. They darkened with intent, and a slow grin grew. "Speaking of which, look at what we have here?"
"Parkinson," Hermione addressed stiffly.
"Look, we don't want any trouble—" Harry tread carefully until Pansy started cackling.
"How precious," she waltzed over to them, settling next to Ginny and throwing an arm over her shoulder. "There's no trouble, Potter. We're all friends here." Ginny could only offer a reassuring smile at her still skeptical friend and boyfriend. Then, Pansy's mirth subsided as she addressed Blaise and Theo. "Speaking of which, where's the other idiot? He was supposed to beat me down here."
"Haven't seen him," Blaise answered. "I'm guessing you had a part in that."
"Why didn't you tell us you were coming?" Theo added, suddenly regretting having done so when her expression turned sour.
"Because I wasn't until late last night," Pansy quipped sharply, rendering the group silent. Then, she let out a derisive laugh, shaking her head. "You'd think after years apart, I'd stop being at his beck and call." When Blaise and Theo frowned simultaneously, she feigned a nonchalant shrug. "Guess old habits do die hard. He's probably still fixing his makeup after my handiwork."
Hermione felt a shard of jealousy prick her spine. At their familiarity with each other or her insinuation, she wasn't entirely sure.
Harry decided to use that moment to intervene in hopes of further breaking up any tension. "Hang on. You're not talking about Malfoy, are you?" In a manner evident for a group who'd been tightly knit for years, all of them adopted identical grins at once.
"Indeed, we are," Pansy confirmed, a devious grin accompanying her slow drawl. "The spoiled little prince."
Outside of her inward, raging thoughts, Harry continued to converse. "You know, I'm not surprised. I've always envisioned Malfoy being one of those people who didn't stop staring at their own reflection."
The group shared a laugh, nodding in agreement.
"In full disclosure, that's always been more of Blaise's thing," Pansy amended.
"Oi!"
"It's true. He'll spend an hour in front of the mirror sometimes, usually without clothes on," Theo supplied. "Doesn't really help with his flirting though."
"For fuck's sake, the flirting," Pansy groaned in detestation. "Be glad he has a girlfriend or we'd be in for an entire evening of second hand embarrassment."
"I'm still standing right here."
"Yes, and you're doing a terrific job," Pansy droned sarcastically.
"I can't say I'm much better," Harry offered. "I was terrified to ask anyone to the ball in Fourth."
"You?" Theo exclaimed with surprise. "Seriously? You defeated a bloody dragon weeks prior! You could've asked literally anyone!"
"Except all of the witches in Slytherin, but that's strictly on principle. No offense," Pansy supplied.
"Thanks. That makes me feel loads better," Harry supplied dryly.
"Slytherin wizards, however—" she amended, winking at him while elbowing Theo. All of them shared matching smirks except Theo who fought a blush.
"He's certainly come a long way since then," Ginny ventured, ruffling his hair just the way he disliked. "Do you mind if we go back to Blaise? I'd like to delve deeper on the fact that he flirted with himself."
"I like the way you think, Red," Pansy supplied happily, continuing to babble on about their friend's infatuation with himself. Blaise, who scoffed in disbelief, looked to Theo in hopes he would prompt a change in topics. Instead, he shrugged and offered optimistically, "Did you ever hear about the incident in fourth with the hair potion?"
Ginny gasped, eyes twinkling with mischief. "No, do tell."
The group continued to chatter amongst themselves and Hermione decided to take that moment to drag him away to fetch drinks.
Their shared laughter roared from a distance and Blaise's head sank further into his shoulders.
"I can't believe this," he grumbled. "Now they're getting Potter against me. What's next? My dead father?"
"I'm sure it's all in good fun," Hermione laughed, scooping ladles of pomegranate juice into two cups. "I'm just glad Harry's getting along with everyone."
"You were worried? He's the fucking Chosen One, isn't he?"
"That is what they call him." Unleashing a heavy sigh, she held out a cup for him to take.
He smiled in thanks when he took a cup from her. "So, you and Potter?" He inquired with the slightest hint of a question lingering at the end.
"We're friends."
"And?"
"That's it."
"Not even a single snog?"
"No," Hermione deadpanned. "Why can't a guy and a girl maintain a strictly platonic relationship?"
"You dated Weasley, didn't you?"
"That's," she paused, "different."
"I'm not trying to have a go at you," Blaise reassured. "We've always assumed you and Potter were a better fit, is all."
She sighed deeply, staring into her glass and swirling the red liquid around.
"It's just, I don't know. We've never seen each other that way before. And obviously it didn't work out with Ron. It all just got too," she trailed off, pursing her lips.
"—complicated?"
Hermione huffed, nodding. "Complicated."
"Sorry if I'm, you know," he gestured with the glass in hand, to which she shook her head.
"Not at all. You're hardly the first to think that." Historically speaking, it had been a while since someone approached her with the notion of her and Harry being romantically involved. Even after her relationship with Ron became publicized, the notion dwindled only slightly. Though given the current look of things, and if they continued the way they were, Hermione dared to hope this would be the last time.
With the thought of Draco brought to the forefront of her mind, there was still no sign of him anywhere. Glancing over at the raven haired witch currently laughing along with her friends, she couldn't help but feel reluctant to trust her. In the weeks leading up to the event, he mentioned inviting Pansy with the confidence that she would refuse. With her arrival and Draco's lack of presence, at his own home nonetheless, she wasn't sure how to interpret the situation. Maybe he did fully intend on letting her have tonight be spent entirely with friends. Not that she was against it. But she'd be lying to herself if she didn't look forward to seeing him this evening.
"Princess?" Blaise acknowledged apprehensively, and Hermione forced a smile.
"I'm fine. Just wasn't expecting to see her here, is all." A look of understanding dawned upon him.
"Ah. If it helps, neither were we. Last we heard, Draco told us she wasn't speaking to him."
She hummed, pondering over the similar statement he'd told her. "Strange, considering how close you all seem to be."
Blaise sighed, glancing down at his empty cup.
"Seventh was a tough year for her to come to terms with. Once Draco broke us out of the dungeons, she bolted. Got a letter a few months later saying she'd run off to America with some bloke."
"Guessing it didn't work out if she's back," Hermione expressed, not at all feeling a twinge of jealousy.
"Nah, she's always been impulsive with men. And women," he shook his head. "If you ask me, I think she's too proud to admit she missed us and wanted to come home."
"That's terribly brave of her," Hermione offered tangentially. "To drop everything and leave her home like that."
"Not much left for her here. Parents hardly paid any attention to her at home. Things weren't any better at school and Draco only made it worse. I'd bet anything she wanted a fresh start away from everyone. Him, especially." He exhaled a sigh of displeasure upon witnessing the intent in her eyes. "I know you're going to ask, Granger. He's a twat, but he is my best mate. I can't betray his trust like that."
"He told me you had to sleep with lumos cast every night until sixth year," she countered, smirking.
Blaise clenched his jaw, his shoulders shaking with subdued laughter. "What'd I tell you? Fucking twat." Sighing heavily, he began with a grimace. "I'm sorry, Granger. You'll have to ask him about it."
"Can you at least tell me if I can trust her?"
Blaise looked past her shoulder quizzically.
"Trust Pansy? With what?"
"With Malfoy."
The rate in which his eyebrows shot up was almost comical.
"Surely you can understand the concept of trusting her is practically impossible," she retorted, avoiding his observant gaze. "I only want to be sure her sudden change of heart isn't for the wrong intentions, is all. It's not like Malfoy has any input to provide at the current moment."
Blaise hummed, face curled as if he were hesitant to believe her. With everyday that passed, the desire to tell everyone of their relationship grew in increments. It was moments like this which reminded her why as the guilt settled deep within her. While it was rather endearing to see their friends not-so-subtly supporting them, it didn't make it any easier to endure. Eventually, he caved, deeming her reasoning to be acceptable.
"Pansy was the one to notice his weight loss."
Not expecting those words to come out of his mouth, she blinked blankly at him.
"The summer he turned sixteen, the lot of us sent letters to him and didn't hear anything back," he explained, looking more wary as he went on. "At the time, we didn't think much of it. Thought his sulking was from Lucius being in Azkaban. At least it looked that way when we came back. He was always in a bad mood. If he wasn't sulking, he was having a fit. The rest of us gave him space and looked past it, but not Pans. She spent the entire year trying to get through to him, not once did she get a peep out of him and she gave up eventually."
"Why? What happened?" She implored, wondering what could have made her stop all of a sudden. Until Blaise's gaze shifted into one of determination.
"You did."
Her breath caught in her throat.
What did he mean by that?
Before she could ask for clarification, she gasped in horror, her eyes widening in shock.
"Oh no."
"What's wrong?"
Squeaking, she quickly reached and grasped Blaise's arm, much to his discomfort.
"Ouch, careful with that," he winced. "I do need that arm on occasion."
"What's he doing here?" she hissed while hiding behind Blaise's body and keeping out of sight.
Blaise tilted his head when he saw who she was referring to. Hermione was too far in with searching for an escape route to hear Blaise state that the person's father worked in the Ministry and likely extended the invitation.
"Please tell me you see him with someone."
"No, I don't. Odds are if he's here because of his father, there's a chance he's attending with him," Blaise concluded as their current topic of conversation began to walk towards the drink table.
Panicking, Hermione hurriedly whispered, "If he asks, I've left the country."
"What?"
Before he could get another word in, she darted away.
She managed to make it far from the drink table into what appeared to be a maze of witches and wizards. Some conversed, drinking casually as they did. Some heading towards the dance floor in the middle of the courtyard. In the midst of her efforts to escape the crowds, she ended up backing straight into someone at the table housing hors d'oeuvres.
Wincing at the contact of a body, she had slight hopes given her odds that she would come face to face with a head of white, bearing a half-annoyed, half-amused look. Instead, she found herself facing one Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Oh! Beg your pardon, Minister." Hermione grimaced, mentally cursing herself for her carelessness despite his reassuring grin.
"Ah, Miss Granger. Not a worry. How are you? Is school treating you well?"
She nodded her agreement to allow her heart rate to settle. "It's been wonderful. I'll forever be indebted to Headmistress McGonagall."
"Aren't we all?" He chuckled. "I take it that her notion of reforming is going as expected?"
"As well as it can be," she admitted steadily, taking care to not make any mention of the incident months prior.
"Excellent. I have good word and faith your presence at school has been nothing but positive reinforcement. Your friends have certainly provided some in adapting to their new positions."
"I'm sure. They've certainly been keeping busy."
Kingsley turned and resumed filling his plate, a guilty expression suddenly taking form. "We've many pieces to pick up after the damage. To ensure nothing gets missed, we are leaving no stone unturned. Your friend Potter has shown to have leadership skills beyond some of my supervisors."
"I don't know if he necessarily finds that to be a good thing," Hermione remarked with a light laugh, recalling when she told him something similar years ago. How she commended his leadership and wisdom and how he didn't think it true.
"Perhaps he'll think differently when he is compensated for it," he hinted, smiling at her. "Given a few years' time, of course. Give some time for him to adjust before, how the muggles say, throwing him back in with the sharks?"
She let out a full laugh, nodding. "I won't say a word." With her days at Hogwarts being limited, she knew it was only a matter of time before she'd needed to consider her future beyond school. Despite initially turning down the opportunity to start working for the Ministry in favor of completing her N.E.W.T.s, she knew the chances of having the same opportunity be presented again were high. Having a full time position at the Ministry was something that crossed her mind many times. Something she'd wanted to take the time to think over and process as she pondered her place. Now that she'd had the time to take in everything that happened and with the new found developments she in no way shape or form anticipated, she couldn't see herself anywhere else but here.
A small plate floating into her vision took her away from her thoughts, followed by Kingsley's comforting tones.
"I highly recommend trying one of everything. The spread is absolutely delightful."
Hermione grabbed the floating plate and began to fill it alongside him. He was right, the food did look delectable. She had a hunch the elves were some of the same ones from Hogwarts' own kitchens. The variety tonight was far more grand than anything she was accustomed to.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Miss Granger. But as I recall it, one of the organizations accepting donations tonight is yours?"
Speechless, she barely managed a feeble, "yes, sir."
He hummed, sounding impressed. "It takes commitment and devotion to showcase rights for magical creatures in the way you have. Dare I say, you could have a fully sponsored position in that department if you are so inclined."
"I—" she began, unable to express words, "that sounds lovely but I have class on Monday and two essays due this week and I'm fairly certain I could have performed better on my last exam—"
"After, Miss Granger," he corrected, amused by her ramblings. "After you receive Outstandings on all your N.E.W.T.s like I know you will. After you've taken the time you need to simply be a young witch of her age. Only then."
"That's…I don't know what to say."
"Just think about it. I don't need an answer tonight, or even next week."
"I can't take all the credit," she blurted. "You see, my…" she paused, gnawing at her cheek, "a good friend of mine made the funding process possible. I didn't even know it was on the roster until a few weeks ago."
Kingsley hummed, considering.
"Must be quite the friend."
"He is," she admitted. "I know his upbringing wasn't ideal and that he's made terrible choices in the past. But he's truly proven himself as an exemplary character."
"You don't have to convince me, Miss Granger," Kingsley smiled. "Mister Malfoy is more than qualified to work in any of our departments. I actually extended him the same offer as I gave to you and your friends."
"You did?"
"Indeed, I did," he smiled warmly. "He was adamant to return this year, as you were, much to the confusion of most of the board. Everyone else was under the assumption he would have accepted straight away." Then, he eyed her. "Though I think he made the right decision if what we saw back in November is any representation."
"He's helped me so much," she said with certainty. "I only want to do the same for him."
"You already have," he assured. "He had nothing but pleasing remarks to share regarding you when we spoke earlier."
Her eyes glistened in the light as she turned to face him.
"Really?"
Kingsley nodded, swallowing a bite of food. "He mentioned you were brewing a batch of Sana Vulnere for a project? That's quite an endeavor."
Beaming bright red, she looked away and shrugged her shoulders shyly.
"I told him, I've always liked a challenge."
"Ironically enough, we have all our Aurors tested on this potion through their entrance exam. Most don't even know what it is."
Somewhere between his second and last sentence was when his words sank in.
Shuddering a breath, her eyes darted around the ever shifting crowds. Searching and seeking out with intent. Until she'd located her target.
When she turned around to excuse herself, the Minister was nowhere to be found.
Seconds later, she approached the group she'd previously left with a full plate of food and a calming sensation fell overtook her. A welcoming sight that made her chest flutter and her breath falter. A sight that brought an extra pep to her step. Once she got close enough to hear ongoing conversations, her pace gradually slowed.
"—fashionably late. To a party at your own house, nonetheless."
"Apologies. I'll be sure to set aside the priorities of the Ministry next time, just for you." A laugh bubbled from her at that tone. Annoyingly posh, lacking any sense of regret and composed entirely of indifference.
"Good. Do you know how awful it's been watching Theo snogging Wood this whole time?"
Theo's shout of protest was thrown in between the remarks.
"I'd wager it's about as repulsive as walking in on you and Elena shagging in the broom cupboard before practice."
"That's your own damn fault. You were supposed to be at practice," Blaise sniffed.
"Just because you haven't had a good shag in ages doesn't mean you should ruin the happiness of those who are," Pansy added snarkily.
"Well, that would imply that I've had a good shag." The lot of them laughed when Pansy gasped, appalled. Draco included once she began to smack him.
"You. Arsehole!" She exclaimed in between hits, finding herself joining in on the infectious laughter. Hermione, on the other hand, was not laughing. "You should consider yourself lucky that I didn't go and find a new date."
"Perhaps if someone had told me they were coming ahead of time, I would have been able to prepare accordingly."
Now that she was close enough, she could make out the details of him she'd on occasion grant herself the opportunity to indulge on. Not a single thread or hair out of place. Pressed and polished, like all the other attendees were. But unlike all the other guests, she had a sort of pull to him. That insistent tugging she remembered from her dreams and forced herself from acting upon. Despite his boyish charm and ability to retain protocol at all times. Despite his impeccable sense of dress, dawning robes which held deep blue and purple hues, much like herself.
"Would it kill you to be grateful, for once?" To which, Draco huffed a sarcastic laugh.
"Grateful? I had to spend the better part of a day granting you access to our floo from bloody Geneva through the Ministry, and God only knows what you were doing out there," he retorted dryly.
"That's none of your bloody business—" Pansy barked and Theo quickly stepped between them, holding his hands up.
"Alright, enough. You two can...catch up later. There's still a few hours left so try not to kill each other? Or Pans, at least save enough of him for the rest of us?"
"Fine," Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes. "But if we're doing this, you might want to start by wiping that pretentious look off your face."
"This is my normal face."
"Why yes, it is," Pansy sniffed, smirking.
"Watch yourself, Parkinson," Draco droned, though not without the faintest hint of a smile. As he turned to the person standing next to her, all traces of a smile faded away, the air froze still and the playful glint in his eyes vanished.
"Potter."
The group was silent, far too anxious to see what would transpire between the two. Hermione stood on high alert and watched with bated breath, subconsciously reaching for her wand in the event a spontaneous duel were to occur.
"Malfoy."
Draco cleared his throat and gave a curt nod.
"Welcome to the gala."
"Thanks." Harry gave his own tense nod in response, unsure of what else to say.
Unwilling to endure the awkwardness any longer, Draco abruptly broke off eye contact. Within seconds, everyone else started their own conversations, taking away all attention from the two wizards. Fortunately for Hermione because when the blond looked away, his gaze ventured, inadvertently looking past their chattering friends until they finally fell on her.
He's staring, jaw unhinged, eyes wide open as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Not that it was very different for her, for the rest of the world practically faded away from her vision.
She wasn't sure what to expect to happen when they inevitably saw each other tonight. Without providing any forewarning as to what the other person would be wearing or plotting to meet up to avoid having to find the other in the midst of the crowds. But perhaps that added to the pure allure and realism of this moment. As they stood still with nothing but the other's focus, knowing something the others didn't. As they took in each other's presence for the first time that night.
Words provided from the elder Malfoy rang in her ears.
You should know, when Draco has his mind set on something, he tends to follow through until the very end.
Deciding it was an ideal time to test that theory, she turned and walked off. Not a second later she could hear Pansy's bark of 'You just got here!' coming from behind. Followed by a smooth, subtle, 'I won't be long.'
And she knew he was coming after her.
Determined, she made a beeline for the rose gardens nearby. The hedges were high and narrow and were a labyrinth in the truest form. He'd previously mentioned certain members of the Ministry had access to the gardens in the event they needed a quiet space to step away to discuss any business or private matters. It was an area warded off for the majority of the guests but again, she wanted to test a theory.
As anticipated, she was met with zero resistance and was able to disappear completely behind the hedges. Glancing around, she waited. Hearing a rustle, she pressed forward and turned the next corner before quickly coming to a dead end. It wasn't long until she sensed a presence from behind.
"I expected better from you. You know these grounds are forbidden to guests."
She smiled.
"As I expected better from you, as much grief as you give me for being late constantly."
"Think you might be a terrible influence on me, after all." On the last syllable, she turned and could see the exact moment when all his words were lost.
"Blaming me for your shortcomings, Malfoy? Sounds like an unhealthy coping mechanism," she goaded, steadily walking towards him and allowing the gown sway in the slight breeze.
"You," he breathed, seeming stunned, "are a vision," he cleared his throat, and despite the fact that he had very obviously not been listening, Hermione permitted her mouth to snap shut, cutting herself off in favor of staring disbelievingly at him.
"So I meet your standards?" she asked teasingly, despite her insides coiling up tight.
Draco nodded, his mouth twitching upwards at the corners.
"I forget on occasion that you do clean up rather nicely," he quipped lightly.
"I suppose you've looked worse as well. However," she faux warned, brandishing a finger at him, "don't think your charm and dashing appearance excuses your tardiness."
He snorted, smirking at her.
"You're one to talk. As much of a swot as you are for rules, one should think you'd stay away from areas that are restricted."
"Oh, is it?" Hermione feigned shock, much to his amusement. "I hadn't the faintest idea."
"Cute. But I recall precisely when I told you, love. Can't have you roaming about where you shouldn't be." As his teasing lilt got darker, the space between them became smaller and her pulse grew quicker.
"Really?" Hermione leaned ever-so-slightly closer, "seems to me anyone could walk through here."
He huffed in disbelief, stepping up to her so they were a breath apart.
"No. Not just anyone," came out in the form of a hushed whisper.
Their eyes slid closed and she willed for the residual space to be depleted. She felt the faintest graze of his lips until an unfamiliar voice with a thick accent snatched them from their world.
"Ah, Monsieur Malfoy. Apologies for intruding." Alarmed, they looked to their unwanted guest. An older gentleman who looked like he'd been wandering the gardens for the majority of the evening. Adjusting his glasses, he looked at Hermione up and down. "Such a charming young woman."
Hermione goes to correct him though before she could get a word out, Draco beat her to it.
"She is rather lovely, isn't she?" He side-eyed her, ushering her to not intervene.
"Indeed. While I have you here, I wondered if we could have a word?"
She could see him visibly swallow. "Certainly."
All of a sudden, the man's accent transitioned from exceptionally fluent English into a pleasing rendition of the French language. While the change in speech was unexpected, she anticipated Draco to be able to understand the guest with all the French novels he read. What she hadn't expected was for the next words to come out of his mouth be completely incomprehensible. As in, he started to speak French like he'd done so all his life, incorporating an occasional upwards lift and perfectly executed uvular trill.
Gods, he was perfect.
After a few words were exchanged, the man bid them adieu and left them standing alone.
"Damn," hissed Draco. "I was really hoping I wouldn't have to Obliviate anyone tonight."
"You…you can speak French," Hermione asked, unable to hide her awe.
He eyed her quizzically.
"You knew that."
Technically speaking, she'd known he could read it. In fairness, she had a hunch he could speak it just as well. But none of that changed the fact that he'd been actively speaking a foreign language with the same fluidness as his sharp wit. All while causing a familiar heat, tugging at her stomach.
When his bemused expression gradually turned into one of realization, she knew there was no point in denying.
"Does that bother you?" he prompted teasingly with an arched brow.
"N-no. Not at all."
"Really?" he asked in a drawl, leaning closer to her ear. "Tu rougis, Granger." (You're blushing, Granger.)
"Stop that," she said, turning redder. Part of her wanting him to stop before she embarrassed herself. The other part wanting him to let him continue and see what happened. Then she was reminded of the harsh reality that they were not the only ones out here in the gardens.
"Je n'ai rien fait de mal, n'est-ce pas?" (I haven't done anything wrong, have I?)
"You're awful," she laughed with a lightness that made her feel carefree. "Don't you have someone you need to Obliviate?" She reminded before things got too out of hand.
"Is there really any harm in letting him go?"
"Malfoy," she said sternly. "We talked about this. No one can know. It's far too soon."
"Very well." He was downcast when he pulled away and it made her heart clench with guilt. "I'll take care of it," he said, preparing to leave until she grabbed hold of his hand.
Stepping up to him, she quickly muttered a disillusionment charm around them and pulled him closer, holding both hands firmly. "At the start of the year, I promised McGonagall to help you."
"Against your judgment," he corrected.
"Even so, she was right, and I was wrong. Utterly, and completely. About everything. About you."
He cast his gaze downward, evading her. "You give me far too much credit, Granger."
"Perhaps. But you're quickly coming to earn it, whether you believe it or not. Not once did I ever think I would look forward to every minute I get to spend with you. Every moment we share, whether it be in class, or in study hall or in the pages of our journals—"
"—don't forget the library that one time," he laughed when she groaned in detestation.
"Gods, that was awful."
"Not all of it, I hope," he admitted with a twinge of vulnerability, and her exterior softened.
"No. Not all of it," she agreed. "Admittedly, I've been looking forward to seeing you all evening."
"I won't have you resent me later on to take you away from your friends, Granger," he noted seriously. "I've had a negative impact on your life for long enough."
"You misunderstand," she corrected with a light laugh. "I'm having a good time. Truly. The food is lovely, I haven't felt weird after having not one, but two drinks, and your home is much nicer when I'm not being dragged to it by snatchers—"
"Granger," he inserted, clearly entertained by her rambling.
She blushed, closing in on herself.
"It's been wonderful being able to spend time with my friends and see people I haven't seen in a long while," she looked at him with earnest eyes, hoping they could convey what she desperately desired. How she wished they could have attended together and spent the evening implementing their newfound affinity. All for everyone present to bear witness that neither of them were currently available. "If anything, it feels unfair how much time I've spent with everyone here tonight except you."
Draco sighed, nodding in understanding.
"I feel the same," he reassured, bringing her hands up to press a kiss to the back of them. A gesture which made her heart flutter. "Which is why I have a proposition for you."
Hermione let out a breath, smiling at the familiar glint of mischief in his eyes.
"What did you have in mind?"
Moments later, they had returned separately and were reunited with the group just in time to get a few dances in. Initially with Blaise when the first slow song came on. By the time the third slow dance came along, her and Ginny had switched partners. Draco stayed long enough to have a dance and two with Pansy before saying he had to meet with some members of the Ministry. With steady breaths, the curly haired witch watched his figure grow smaller over Harry's shoulder.
"Hermione?" he asked, feeling her grow stiff in his hold.
"Sorry. Food's still settling," she said before continuing to sway to the current song.
As the minutes passed and her nerves began she decided to head to the drink table to get something to take the edge off.
"Granger?" She stopped abruptly, hating the way hearing her surname made her skin crawl. Slowly, she turned to face her company, doing everything she could to keep herself from making her displeasure too apparent.
"Hello McClaggen," Hermione winced, eyes fixating on the lights around eye level to avoid looking at him directly.
"It's been awhile." He beamed at her.
Not long enough.
"You cleaned up nicely," she offered, hoping she didn't sound too false. To her benefit, he didn't seem to be able to tell. As he was enthused she was even giving him the time of day.
"What, oh this?" He straightened his lapels, along with his posture. "I hadn't worn this since we attended Slughorn's together a few years back. Just sent it to get it cleaned a few days ago. Not every day a bloke has to dress up, you know?" His attempts to be charming were naught and clearly had no effect on her.
"Course. Who in their right mind would wear suits daily by choice?" She let out a half-hearted chuckle, not at all letting her thoughts drift to someone she knew who chose to dress prim and proper daily. And fuck, did it suit him.
"Exactly," he agreed, looking around. "Say, you're not here alone, are you?"
"No, I'm here with Blaise," she trailed off, both their heads turning to watch as he danced with their group of friends.
"He's not with you now," he suggested.
"I'm only getting a drink, Cormac—"
"Nonsense." He waved off, essentially inviting himself. "I've got nowhere else to be, if you can believe it."
A hard purse of the lips kept her from correcting him. "Really? What a surprise," she mustered with falsity. "You know, I think I can manage on my own"
"Nonsense. A lovely lady like you shouldn't wander aimlessly. Speaking of which, I saw Malfoy talking to you earlier. He's not giving you any trouble, is he?"
In that instant, her widened eyes flashed and her entire demeanor darkened.
"No, he wasn't," she responded pointedly, glaring at him. "I appreciate the concern, but I can handle myself, thanks."
Cormac was on the verge of retorting, likely something highly offensive, when a stern voice sounded behind Hermione.
"Granger. Fancy a dance?"
When she turned, the person she least expected to come to her rescue was standing with a single hand out.
"I—I erm, I don't—" she stammered, glancing back and forth between Cormac's gloriously confounded face and Pansy's unimpressed gaze.
"Splendid. Let's go." Without another word, Hermione found herself being whisked away to the dance floor by a confident Pansy leading them in a stride. Once they were shielded by a wall of couples, Hermione thought Pansy would drop the act, however grateful she was for it. But she didn't. Instead, in the midst of all the other couples swaying to the slow music, Pansy grabbed hold of her waist. Undeterred by a few missed steps and some awkward fumbling, they eventually found their own rhythm.
"Relax, there's no need to be so tense. You're acting like you've never danced with a girl before," Pansy quipped, tightening her hold on her waist.
"I haven't," Hermione admitted honestly. "Not like this."
"I'll give the boys one thing. You are adorable." She tossed her a wink. Regardless of Hermione's focus and emotions obviously being set to another, the low purr did not fail to bring a light red hue to her cheeks.
"But you and Malfoy," she stammered nervously, though impressively did not falter in her steps, "and I thought you left the country for a wizard—"
"After that tosser in America didn't work out, I had a phase where I tried to rid men in my life completely. And let me tell you," Pansy leaned in closer. "It was some of the best sex I'd ever had." Then, she chuckled at feeling Hermione's unease. "Don't worry, Granger. You're far too pure and bookish for me."
Clearing her throat, Hermione fought a blush and looked over Pansy's shoulder to see if she could spot Cormac in the crowds.
"I don't see him anywhere," she noted.
"Aw, are you not having a good time with me?" she taunted lightly.
"I never said that."
"Only teasing, Granger. He's hovering, I can feel it."
"How—?"
"You learn a thing or two when you immerse yourself with all kinds of people. Some of them are nice. Others, not so much. And your boyfriend other there—"
"He's not my boyfriend."
"Fine. Your boy toy is somewhere in the middle. Means well. Total knob."
"Can't disagree with you there."
She snickered. "And the boys were worried we wouldn't get along. But do me a favor?"
Hermione blinked blankly, pondering what Pansy Parkinson could be asking for, from her of all people.
"Sure."
"Could we stop with the pretense that I'm your worst nightmare come to life?" She deadpanned. Blushing from embarrassment, the curly haired witch let her head fall onto Pansy's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, that's terribly unbecoming of me. I suppose I've grown rather attached to the boys and the last thing I heard was you all weren't on speaking terms."
"I hadn't kept up with them as well as I probably should have," sighed Pansy, sounding dismayed. "When I received the letter from Draco, I was tempted to send him a howler to fuck off. Eventually I figured, 'what the hell?' Even if the prat breaks your heart in a million different ways to Ilvermorny, you'll always find your way back to his miserable, stupidly pleasant face. The git grows on you, you know?"
While Hermione mused over her words, Pansy glanced around and made a sound of approval. "Looks like your boy toy's gone for now. Come on, let's go get a drink."
"I—I don't know if—" she began, unsure. Pansy insisted, tugging her towards the drink bar.
"Trust me. It'll calm your nerves."
Whilst they gingerly sipped on champagne and watched the night progress before them, she couldn't help but reflect over the absurdity of the current situation. The Golden Girl and ex-lover to the Slytherin Prince himself sitting down to drink together. What were the odds?
"Mental, isn't it?" Pansy prompted. "Seeing them all together and not ripping each other's throats out?"
Hermione followed to where Pansy watched where their friends stood, collectively talking to one another. While they left them as a group, somehow they'd managed to pair up. Ginny and Blaise, she had expected. Though what came as a surprise to her were Theo and Harry. Chatting and laughing and Wood was nowhere to be seen.
"It's a nice change of pace.
Pansy made a sound of acknowledgement before silence befell them once more.
"You're a good dancer," Hermione admitted, pleasantly surprised when Pansy chuckled with a lightness she'd never expected from her. A sense of innocence she'd lost long ago.
"I've been lucky to have learned alongside a proficient partner." Maybe it was something in her body language. Maybe it was the way she let the thoughts of dancing with him ease away her tension. All she knew was Pansy had been twirling her glass in her hand absentmindedly until all of a sudden, she went still.
"Salazar's fucking ball sack," she muttered, her expression still undecipherable. "You. And Draco."
Against her will, Hermione stiffened.
"I—I don't follow." Unfortunately, her perturbation betrayed her attempt at being oblivious.
"Don't bother, Granger," Pansy stated breezily, setting comfortably in her seat and crossing her legs with her sparkly heels on display. "I was obsessed with him for years. I knew something was up with him the minute I stepped foot in his house." With her words, Hermione could only hope her face didn't give away the dread she felt in her chest. "I can't believe it. The bloody idiot finally got his head out of his arse." Gradually, her initial shock blended in with being impressed. "You're fucking him, then?"
"What, no! We aren't. We haven't—" Hermione stammered, fumbling over the thought and trying to explain herself simultaneously.
"Alright. So not fucking. Yet. But you want to."
"That's none of your business," Hermione quipped sharply before demanding, "you can't tell anyone about this. For his sake, please—"
"Calm your tits, I won't say anything," Pansy droned before wincing. "Gods, you're so despicably moral and righteous that it physically pains me. I suppose it's better than the leech he had before."
"News must travel fast in America," Hermione said, before taking several consecutive sips.
"As Purebloods, we have nothing better to do than gossip about other families to make your own seem all the more normal." Pansy tipped her glass before downing it all in one go and calling the bartender over. "Americans are experts at finding the worst in each other."
"Is that why you've decided to come back?"
"I'm not here for Draco, if that's what you're asking. Not in that sense, anyway," she paused, continuing to swirl her newly filled glass. "Which begs the question. What are your intentions with him?" Bubbly liquid was halfway down Hermione's throat when she inhaled at the wrong moment.
Through her sputtering and coughing, she managed a hoarse, "Pardon?"
"You heard me fine," Pansy deadpanned.
With pursed lips, Hermione set her empty glass between them.
"You'll have to forgive me for not taking your word for it," she challenged, mirroring Pansy's posture and crossing her arms.
"Draco and I have our differences and while I have no interest in rekindling any relationship with him, he does matter to me."
"I'm just finding your claim hard to believe considering what little I know of your history."
"Draco didn't tell you?" Pansy's grin widened when she didn't react. "Then again, why would he?" She huffed a spiteful laugh. "When we were young and so fucking stupid. Him, for thinking he could fool himself. And me, for believing what we had was real when really, all we were was a pair of kids who used each other. It was fun for a while, I suppose. Until an unfortunate shag after one too many spiked pumpkin juices." Her smirk faded slightly. "He was careful to never touch me again after that."
"Oh," Hermione exhaled, unable to shake off the unease from the important details she was leaving out.
"Don't let that scare you off. He's gotten considerable practice since then," she supplied off-handedly while winking, making Hermione's cheeks burn at the prospect, "—but as I understand it, no one else knows about this," Pansy enunciated, glaring at her, "save for the two of you and maybe She-Weasley since she's the only one of the bunch with any damn sense. So I'll keep your little secret but I need to know; what are your intentions with him?"
"I care about him," Hermione decided after taking a second to ponder. "More than I ever thought possible." Pansy examined her carefully, narrowing her eyes into slits.
In truth, she hadn't considered the depth of her feelings as of late. Only recently being able to accept their existence and act upon them. Though she supposed that was the direction they were heading with the development in recent weeks. While it was too soon to say for certain how she felt, she couldn't deny it a possibility at this point.
All this time, she'd been falling for him.
Eventually, Pansy made a soft sound of approval. "You should get going. I'll cover for you," she stated before downing the rest of her second glass.
Glancing back and forth between the entrance to Malfoy's home and their friends who were still happily chattering away, she eventually got up from her seat and prepared to leave. As she passed Pansy, still seated, she stopped.
"For what it's worth, I am sorry," she tread softly. "And um, I do hope you find happiness with someone someday."
For a few moments, Pansy stared at her, unwavering.
Only adding to her surprise when the Slytherin witch came up and hugged her, parting with a light kiss on the cheek.
"Be gentle with him," she whispered into thick curls. "Draco's resilient, but he's not unbreakable."
Unsure what to make of it, Hermione awkwardly returned the hug and nodded.
"I will," she decided. "Thank you, for the dance and the talk. I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting to enjoy your company as much as I did."
Pansy barked a laugh. "Feeling's mutual, Granger," she agreed, pulling back. "Now go on," she gestured with a sure nod. "You don't want to keep him waiting, believe me."
Unable to find appropriate words, Hermione simply nodded and made her way to the grand doors which made up the main entrance.
Once inside, she made her way through the main entryway and past the floo that provided all guests entry and exit. Past the drawing room, with its doors actively closed and locked tight. Keeping a steady pace until she reached the set of double doors at the end of the corridor.
With her back turned, the final set of doors clicked shut. She didn't make it two steps in before she backed into a solid body.
"Well?" A tremor from his low voice vibrated through her chest.
She sighed, letting herself fall against him as a familiar scent hit her senses.
"As far as our friends know, I've returned to Hogwarts. Except Ginny, of course. And Pansy, apparently."
"Pansy?" He clarified with a slight chuckle. "Can't say I'm entirely surprised. Do we need to check for hexes? I can't imagine she was less invasive than Weasley."
"We had quite an enlightening conversation, actually."
"Oh?" Malfoy frowned when she took a few steps away. Hugging her arms, she looked at him with the subtlest hint of vulnerability. "Granger," he said slowly. "Are you suspicious of me?"
"I'd be lying if I said no," she conceded unhappily.
"Let's discuss move this conversation somewhere more private," he concluded calmly. "There, you can ask me whatever you'd like."
"Do you promise to properly answer and not to occlude?"
His mouth twitched.
"I'll do my best."
She let out a contented breath, sighing out her satisfaction. Then, he offered his arm to her.
"Ready?"
"Just a moment, I'd like something first before we go."
Clearly, he'd been expecting something different when she stepped up to him and wrapped him in a warm embrace. It didn't take long before he reciprocated by wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer. His larger hands were warm on the small of her exposed back. Nothing overtly sexual or suggestive. Simply being two people appreciating their first moment alone in weeks.
"Are you sure you're comfortable being here?" His mumbled words partially lost in her hair. "You can still floo back to school if you want."
She pulled back and nodded, giving him a small smile.
"I'm sure."
Wordlessly, Draco walked a few steps over to the next set of doors and a single hand extended towards her. He smirked from where he stood in the middle of the hallway. Like a warmth in the darkness beckoning her to come further into the shadows.
"Come with me. I want to show you something."
A/n: Omggggg my feels from the feedback on the last chapter you guys, I can't. Hopefully this long chapter made up for the even longer wait :P