Lawful Good

Ginny was the best. They had talked about Hermione’s idea of dressing up the way Muggles do for Halloween, but keeping it magical. Something that had always piqued her interest had been ancient gods - there was no proof that they existed, if they were Muggles, or were magical. Hermione had never been able to find anything conclusive, since they were labeled as a “Muggle fantasy”. She thought there was a solid chance they had been witches and wizards living amongst Muggles, allowing themselves to be revered as gods. Another thing no one had been able to explain was the phrase “oh my Gods”, since magical people apparently didn’t believe in ancient gods. Some things just refused to make sense.

One of those nonsensical things was how she got a nervous twist in her stomach every time she saw Malfoy now. He had invited her - a coworker - and everyone else to his ball. It wasn’t special. It wasn’t personal. It meant nothing.

But Hermione had diligently prepped for it. She was confident her outfit would gain her compliments, even if they didn’t know who they were complimenting. Every detail was ready to be presented, but was she ready for it all?

The last Friday of the month fell heavily upon Hermione: it was Halloween. Tonight she would attend Malfoy’s ball alone, anonymous, and on edge. It was so far beyond her comfort zone, and yet the thrill of what could be sparked a fire in her. She spent the day trying to stay focused, but ended up reorganizing her office midday instead. Hermione kept to herself, including eating lunch in her office, lest anyone notice that she was acting strangely and put two and two together. 9 o’clock could come fast enough... or slow enough.

She hated apparating to the gates of Malfoy Manor. She hated that the circumstances were so sweet, but the tangible facts were so harsh. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut before apparating, and gave herself a moment again before opening them. She looked at the gravel beneath her shiny black pumps before slowly lifting her head, taking in the scene metre by metre. She beheld Malfoy Manor behind open black gates: there was a path lined by short green hedges, and a tall and imposing looking mansion. She had briefly been outside of it before, and even at night, it somehow looked more inviting than it did the day she was brought there. As she walked through the threshold, she could hear distant music and saw movement from figures. 

She let the cool night hit her skin and raise goosebumps. Her heart was beating fast and made her palms sweaty, and she didn’t like touching her wand with anything but the utmost control, so she didn’t cast a warming charm. The long walk and cold air cooled her nerves and made her head clear just before she came to the entryway off to the right of the main entrance. Light cascaded out from the doors and windows, beckoning her inside where warmth was promised. She heard voices behind her approaching, and didn’t want to be caught awkwardly lingering in front of the ballroom. She took a deep breath and walked to the open doors with an air of confidence. Just inside the door was what appeared to be a butler, standing and waiting to welcome guests. I’m a guest at Malfoy Manor... who would have ever thought.

“Good evening, miss. Welcome to Malfoy Manor. The host wishes to remain under Glamour like the rest of his guests, so if you need anything, do come back this way and let me know. He extends his warmest welcome and thanks you for attending his Halloween ball. I hope you have a pleasant evening,” the butler finished. He was wearing an all white suit and a white and gold mask, but apart from that, Hermione wouldn’t be able to recognize him.

“Thank you kindly. I would just like to double check my own Glamour is working properly?” Hermione knew it was, but every word of affirmation helped to squash her own anxiety.

“Yes, of course. I’m only envious I can’t know the face behind such a well dressed witch,” he courteously replied. Hermione smiled at him, and stepped into the grandeur of the room.

Malfoy told no word of a lie when he said she wouldn’t recognize it. She felt like she stepped into heaven, everything was so bright and gilded. The walls were white with gold accents and decorations, the curtains were much the same with dazzling gold tassels, and the ceiling was enchanted to match the floor in a dark, swirling, galactic scene. If the room were meant to feel like a cloud floating in space, then the effect had been achieved. The room was so tall that it had stairs winding up to a second level that followed the perimeter of the room and gave way to balconies that opened to the outside. The party hadn’t really started yet, so Hermione made her way to the upper level to get a better view of the room and its occupants. She leaned her forearms on the edge of the railing and stared up at the ceiling. It wasn’t like the one at Hogwarts, with it being two dimensional, but it more so reminded her of visiting the planetarium as a kid and being in awe of the sparkling lights and shapes that the night sky made. Hermione was so fully in her thoughts that she didn’t notice someone come up next to her.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?,” he said, staring at the ceiling as well. The man had a big grin on his face and seemed to be relishing the view just as Hermione was.

“Yes, it is. I never expected Malfoy Manor to be so... wonderful, as you put it,” she politely replied.

“Well, I suppose everything has changed, and even somebody like a Malfoy can throw a pleasant surprise.” Hermione grunted a noncommittal “hm”, and continued appraising the room.

“Speaking of which, I believe that you must be one of them tonight.”

Hermione turned quickly and gave him a sharp look, suddenly self conscious, “What do you mean “I’m one of them”?”

Unphased, he answered, “I simply mean that you must be the most stunning guest in the room tonight. I didn’t expect to see a witch dressed as beautifully as you, and to come across her gazing at an enchanted starry ceiling is just poetic.”

Hermione blushed, but the redness couldn’t be seen under her dark red and gold mask. She truly was a vision, and Ginny had been right to convince her to go all out. She wore a burgundy floor length dress that swept along behind her, cinching in a bodice with black embroidery at her torso. Off the shoulder fabric hung gently on her arms, and a structured gold embroidered cape  was attached at her shoulders. Her long, wild hair was loose and she had delicately woven golden flowers into it like a reversed tiara. She was sure Persephone would have been proud to wear the same outfit.

“I can’t say I’ve ever been compared to poetry before, so I suppose that’s a pleasant surprise of my own,” she smiled at the stranger, now taking in his own choice of attire. He was tall and lithe and wore a suit of navy velvet. His shirt was black with shining silver buttons, and to Hermione’s secret joy, was unbuttoned down to his mid chest. His matte black shoes matched the matte black of his mask that had silver dancing over it; weaving around the edges constantly. He might be the best dressed here besides me, but Hermione reserved her final judgement until she had made the rounds.

“If you’ll excuse me, I prefer to be poetry in motion now,” and with a smile walked past the man in blue and made her way down another staircase and into the growing crowd of people. The crowd had been steadily growing since her time upstairs, and there was a feeling of anticipation that grew. Soon, people would start dancing and mingling and she would see what this was all about. Maybe, if she was lucky, she would get a treat this night and find a wizard that catches her eye...

No sooner had she poured herself a bubbling red punch than there was a wizard at the far, elevated end of the hall announcing pleasantries and the band that would play for the evening. The four of them walked on stage - female singer and three string instrument musicians. Surprisingly, they were all in Glamour too. Hermione wondered if that was normal, or if they too had darker pasts they didn't want judged. 

As soon as the group started playing, people seemed to jump and flow to the music with partners as if it were pre orchestrated. It was a beautiful sight to see shining colours and fabrics swirl around the swirling ballroom floor with the ambiance of beautiful crooning. Hermione was enthralled watching the scene from the sideline when a wizard dressed in dark robes and an almost matching red and glittering mask approached her and asked for a dance. She gladly accepted, allowing herself to get whisked away into dance for the first time since the Yule Ball.

She never hoped in her wildest dreams for the sense of freedom Malfoy’s ball would give to her. She passed from wizard to wizard, even dancing with a tall and slender witch once, where she could express herself in any way without judgement. It was so different to anything she had experienced. She had always been subject to fame through Harry; she had always been recognized for her intelligence; she was never free from opinion. At last, she was discovering who she could be without the scrutiny of others.

Hermione barely noticed a couple of hours had slipped by before she decided to take a rest and seek refreshments. The cushioning charm for her shoes was starting to wear thin, so she decided to take them off and go for a wander with her drink. She felt like this room was designed to be cloud 9, because that's where she felt she was now. She was beaming easily as she meandered her way down the hallways outside of the ballroom. Others were out there, cooling off alone or heating up with a partner. Hermione really didn't want to spy on them, but who was she to deny a peek at a couple of anonymous people? 

She rested herself against a wall as she watched two people making out in a nearby shallow alcove. The hall was dimly lit with floating torches, but it wasn't the cold, grey stone she remembered: there was mahogany paneling on the lower part of the walls with seemingly embossed navy blue walls, but it was hard to tell exactly. Her mind was hazy with bliss and booze as she idly stared at the couple, who were too absorbed in each other to notice her. Suddenly a red puff of smoke erupted between the amorous couple and pushed them apart. Hermione zoned in on what they were saying to each other now.

“What was that? Did you do that on purpose?!”, he exclaimed.

“No! But it got the point across, didn't it? You think I was joking when I said “no”?” she replied.

“I mean, come on, it's not that big of a deal? For Merlin’s sake...”

“Seriously, mate? I'm going back to the dance floor,” she turned and started walking away from him.

“Oh come on, love, I didn't mean it-” he grabbed her wrist, and another poof of red smoke burst between the two. He stopped advancing and let her go. Hermione was fascinated at this magic. Something so simple, and yet so complex to implement at the same time. Malfoy had come up with a consent charm for his masquerade ball, and he was brilliant. She was in deep admiration for him suddenly, and wished she could seek him out and compliment him on his ingenuity. Instead, Hermione kept wandering down the hallway, seeing how far she could go.

She felt like the further she advanced, the more of Malfoy would be revealed to her; it's like she was walking to find the heart of his house, and him. The hallways were markedly stark, with only the occasional ornament, such as a shield hung on the wall or a magical painting without people. Perhaps he wasn't done decorating, or maybe he only owned Dark remnants he wanted to hide away. She was coming up to an intersection of hallways when she felt a repelling charm. Very clever, but Hermione knew she was smarter. He would never know it was her. She started to disassemble to charm when there was a pop in front of her.

“Hello miss, you must not come any further as per Mister Malfoy’s orders, you do understand,” a house elf said to Hermione.

“Oh my Gods, I'm sorry - but, no not at you, I just mean, Malfoy still has house elves?! I can't believe it, well, I should, but that's just so rich...” Hermione angrily said, half to herself and half to the house elf.

“Miss must understand that Mister Malfoy gave us all freedom and we choose to stay serving him. Mister Malfoy is a good person to us, Miss.”

Hermione noticed the small, yet clean, clothing the elf in front of her was wearing, “I'm sorry, I never realized... I didn't think... I just assumed the worst. You say he is good to you?” the house elf nodded, “Then... that's good. What's your name? If that's ok.”

“My name is Lolly, Miss. Pleased to meet you,” the petite house elf gave Hermione a bow.

“My name is- oh, er, I'm not sure if I should tell you, being a masquerade ball and all... uh...” 

“Lolly understands, Miss. It's no matter. Just knowing you have respect for Mister Malfoy and house elves is enough,” Lolly smiled up at her.

“Oh, well alright. I- I just want you to know that I have helped a lot with the freeing of house elves. It matters a lot to me. And please, could you not mention it to Malfoy? I don't want him to know...”

“Oh, Lolly is so grateful to have met you, Miss! Thank you so much for your efforts! I have heard much about the people who helped free my people. Mister Malfoy explained it all to us when he did it. He talked of a “Hermione Granger”, and how she had helped a lot, and was a good friend of Dobby,” Lolly's face went sad at the mention of Dobby, and Hermione’s heart sank.

“I- I know, she has been so important for the movement. Wouldn't it be amazing if Dobby could see you all now?” Hermione tried to lighten the subject, but the house elf only nodded solemnly. “Well, I am pleased you are well taken care of, Lolly. If I could ask one more thing...?” Hermione trailed off, hoping the elf was still up for talking, “What did Malfoy say about Hermione?”

“Oh, Mister Malfoy spoke well of her. He said how she was the smartest witch of her age and had helped save the world with Harry Potter and chose to help the house elves when she got a job at the Ministry. Yes, I would love to meet Hermione Granger some day and thank her. She is an important person. Mister Malfoy said so himself.” 

Hermione was taken back for a moment before carefully responding, “Thank you so much Lolly. Apologies for the disturbance. I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

“Lolly wishes the same for you, Miss,” and with a snap she apparated from sight. It had been a sobering conversation, and Hermione analyzed it as she sauntered back to the ballroom. Malfoy talked about me with house elves that he clearly treats as equals... he has talked well about me to them... but how much? Should I be surprised at this point? There's so many things that keep surprising me...

Hermione let her mind wander into oblivion and instead focused on the music and motion coming through the open door she was approaching. After being in the quiet and dim for so long, it was jarring coming back to the action. She steadied herself against the edge of the crowd, letting herself get readjusted to the evening. She was idly wondering who would pick her to dance with next, when the tall man in the navy velvet suit sidled up beside her.

“How are you enjoying the evening so far?” he asked.

“It's been brilliant. This is my first ball of the sort, and it's been brilliant,” Hermione answered genuinely. 

“Do you care to dance with me?” He offered his hand and Hermione gently took it. Some of the men she had danced with that evening had poor posture, uncertain movements, or insensitivity towards having a partner who had her own unique style of dancing, but from the moment she touched the warm hand of the man in blue velvet, she felt secure. His hold was steady but not clinging; his body graceful and confident; and he was receptive to how his partner flowed. She was so lost within his swirling mask and how he swirled her around that she wasn't able to grab ahold of the thought of how he - they - looked like dancing. She couldn't recall seeing him on the floor at all that evening, but she hadn't been watching everyone else as much as focusing on her own partner. She let him dance with her for as long as he desired... 30 minutes went by, perhaps, before there was a lull in the music and he suggested refreshments. 

“Shall we take these upstairs? I do remember you like the view from up there,” he extended his hand like he had done a mere half hour ago, and once more she let him lead her wherever he wanted. Hand in hand, he led her up the golden staircase and out onto a balcony overlooking the property. The moon wasn't quite full, but it still illuminated the shapes of the hedges and trees that made up the immediate scenery. Though she was warmed from dancing and alcohol, she was grateful the balcony had a warming charm in place. The wind blew, and raised the hairs on her arms delightfully.

“I think the only thing that could make this night more perfect would be if the moon was full, don't you think?” he questioned her.

“Hm, perhaps you're right, although werewolves are known to come out then,” Hermione stated matter of factly. 

“There are no werewolves in these parts anymore, so I wouldn't be concerned.”

“You sound very certain of that,” she quizzed back.

“I only mean that these aren't the times for them to be roaming anymore. And this is no longer the place. I was only stating common knowledge,” his reply was without snark or malice and put Hermione at ease. The breeze kept blowing its way through the warming charm and it was plain to see the goosebumps dotting her body. 

“Are you cold? Here, let me give you my jacket,” the man took off his jacket as Hermione was insisting that she was fine, but the moment the warm fabric touched her shoulders she stopped resisting. It was nice to feel cared for in new ways.

“Better, isn't it?,” Hermione smiled at him. “I can't cast a better warming charm that blocks out the wind, or else I'd do that for you. But feel free to show me up. We'd both be better off.”

“I wish I could, but I struggle with that myself in the winter. It's so frustrating to not get the knack of such a simple task when so many other things come easily to you, you know?”

“I do, actually. But luckily for me in this case, I've still got your back,” Hermione thought she saw a wink and giggled anyway at the bad pun. 

“Very funny. So, have you been to something like this before? You must be the best dance partner I've been with all night.”

“Oh, well thank you, you do know how to make a gentleman blush. I have been to a couple of events like this before, and yet nothing like this. It feels more light hearted and enjoyable. It's hard to describe the sort of feeling with the others... boxed in, perhaps? It was just a limited crowd, and it felt like every guest had an ulterior motive. Just a feeling, mind you, since they were masked balls. But even so, one learns how to dance unabashedly and from seasoned ballroom dancers.” 

“I should have guessed I was speaking to someone fancy, especially when he is the best dressed wizard here tonight,” Hermione flirted back.

“Fancy? Hm, maybe. Best dressed? Of course. I'm shocked it took you this long to say so!”

“Can you see me rolly eyes beneath this mask?” Hermione dramatically rolled her eyes at her partner. 

“Yeah, yeah. I'm thrilled that I'm standing with the best dressed witch at the ball, too, you know. I was hoping you would want to spend the evening with me.”

“Then why did you take so long to come find me again?”

“I was hoping you would tire of dancing with the inexperienced boys, and naturally you would come to appreciate quality when he found you,” he was smirking, and Hermione could swear that he was starting to look and feel familiar. 

“Ah, I see. Do you think it worked?” she asked innocently.

The mystery man tilted her chin up with the edge of his index finger, “Why don’t you tell me, love?” He let the moment linger before continuing, “Or have I rendered you speechless?”

Hermione took a breath in and made to say something smart in return, when he slowly leaned down bringing his face to hers, and kissed her tenderly. She forgot to breathe out; she was truly intoxicated with him. She wanted to capture this insane moment and hold the splendor of it in her body forever, but her mind ruined it before she could stop it. Who is he? I wish I could rip off his mask and learn who he is... and yet she never wanted to learn. She was torn between this beautiful fantasy on this cold October night, and the reality of possibly finding love. An eon seemed to pass by from when he pulled away and she was able to speak again.

“I... think so,” she managed to say.

“What do you “think so” about?” Perhaps the kiss had muddled his brain too.

“Um, being speechless, like you said,” she stammered out. 

“Oh, yes. Right,” he tucked some hair behind her ear, “I’ve been wanting to do that all night. Staring into your face while dancing...” he did the familiar smirk again.

“You know, I almost wish it wasn’t a masquerade ball, and we could just see each other for who we really are... but it does add to the allure of it all, doesn’t it?” Hermione was out on a limb.

“I suppose so, but I prefer the anonymity. Even if you’re close with someone you meet at a ball, you never really know it’s them unless they tell you. Part of me wants to be done with secrets, but part of me knows I can’t be,” he seemed to withdraw at Hermione’s remark.

“This could be your chance. Right now, on this balcony with me.”

He took her hand gently and said in a soft voice, “Love, it’s either you know me for who I am right now, or we continue enjoying the night. I’ll bend that much, but no more.”

Hermione looked at him blankly, appraising the situation, and then stepped in close and whispered, “I would hate for my night to end so abruptly. So why don’t you show me how we should spend the rest of it?” The masked man had an intense look on his face as Hermione’s words lit something within him. He grabbed her face with both hands and brought her up to a rougher, deeper, more passionate kiss. The thought that she could be kissing Draco Malfoy flashed through her mind, but she didn’t care. She had never been kissed like this before. He slowed down with the fervent pressure, and focused on delighting her with soft, yet firm, deeply passionate kisses. Hermione felt more alive and turned on than she had in years... she could start to feel the fact between her legs. His hands were roaming her hair, down her face and neck, touching her collarbone, but no further. Hermione kept pushing her chest up and towards him, but he wasn’t taking the hint. Meanwhile, she was feeling his every muscle and bone through his dress shirt, trying to gain a mental image of whose body she was up against. She couldn’t shake the thought that it could be Malfoy, and she was slightly bothered by the fact it didn’t bother her at all. Suddenly he pulled away, took her by the hand, and started walking down the stairs. They were back on the dancefloor, pressed closely together, for what felt like their last dance.

Hermione couldn't think properly even if she tried, but the abrupt change from kissing this man on the quiet balcony to dancing amidst a thinning crowd threw her for a loop. All she cared about was drinking in the man before her; hoping the dancing would never end. Hermione could swear she saw his lips move and mumble something, and perhaps it was an enchantment upon her and not on the band, but it felt like the song lasted half an hour. She didn’t even realize she was tired until they had stopped, and the spell was broken. 

“Please, rest and let me get you a drink,” her partner said to her, noting her newly lethargic state. She sat on a plush settee while she allowed herself to be doted on. She desperately wanted to enjoy what remaining time they had, but her body was telling her it was time to leave or else she might fall asleep on her seat. How embarrassing would that be, to have Malfoy looming over her in the morning and learning who she had shown up as? But on the other hand, maybe that wouldn't be such a big issue as it once was...

“Thank you, you’ve honestly been so amazing all night,” she noted that smirk again, “I’m just... sad to see it end. And to part. And to never see you again, of course,” she huffed.

Brushing her hair away from her face, he held her cheek and looked into her eyes until she felt like she was being swallowed by them, and the room collapsed into only his face and the music faded away. She knew he must be doing some sort of magic, especially with his face starting to shape shift and blur, or was she just more tired than she knew?

“If you’ll have me, I will find you. And I hope - I trust - you’ll want me. But not right now. I don’t think the time is right yet. I hope you can believe me when I say I’ll think of you every day,” and with that he slowly pulled away, grabbed hold of Hermione’s hand one last time, got up and walked across the ballroom and out the main entrance. Hermione could feel the emotions welling up inside her; confusion, hurt, sadness, and longing all begged to escape her chest, but her being couldn’t let anything out. She felt void of comfort and the ache of emptiness upon seeing him walk out those doors, never knowing who he was, and certain he wouldn’t change his mind and come back for her. Still, her body wouldn’t move from the settee in faint hope that the mood would shift and he was just toying and stringing her along. Any moment he could come back. She sipped her punch, glued to her seat with determination. Please, she begged to anything that was listening. She sat staring at the doors he walked out of until she finished her drink, and still her mind felt resolute on staying there to wait for him. Unfortunately for her, her limbs started aching, and she knew that her body had won this time. She hated getting up, moving her legs across the ballroom floor one last time, and getting hit with a blast of bitter cold. Hermione hastily cast a warming charm around her and she drew her jacket closer to her and walked as fast as she could to the gates of Malfoy Manor.

A pop sent her to the warmth of her living room where Crookshanks was looking up at her from his seat, clearly judging her for coming back so late. Hermione could only sigh his way while kicking off her pumps and taking the last few painstaking strides to her comfy, cozy bed. She flopped down with an oof, knowing she needed to change and take her makeup off, but she couldn’t bear the thought of getting up to do that. She unwound the mask that was tied in her hair with the hand she wasn’t lying on and chucked it across her floor. She summoned a blanket from the living room, and as she snuggled it under her chin, she realized her upper body felt off. She was still wearing his jacket. Her belly warmed at the thought and her eyes closed until the next day’s afternoon sun was beaming strongly on her face.