The Gala
Hermione didn’t know what she was really expecting.
Finishing work at eight PM exactly, she took her time getting ready, full shower, Sleekeazy’s in her hair, make-up. By the end, she could admit to herself that she was procrastinating having to go to another atrocious political gala.
By the time she showed up, it was already half over. Stay for an hour, make a statement supporting Patricia Ogden, and leave as quietly as possible.
The second she showed up, Kingsley swept her into a group of brown-nosing ego maniacs and promptly abandoned her. Each one was worse than the last.
“So what do you think of Ogden’s election promises?” a brown-haired man handed off a flute of champagne to her, she hadn’t even bothered to remember his name, “Her expectation to crack down on muggle-born bias outside the ministry seems to slightly overreach, doesn’t it?”
Hermione struggled to keep the disgust at his statement from showing on her face, “I think a few well-placed laws, like banning discrimination in hiring practices, would benefit everyone,” She looked around the room, desperately trying to find someone she knew. These gala's were more often for the rich and well-known to mingle and rub elbows. Very rarely was there anyone present of quality character.
“Looking for anyone in particular?” his voice was far too close to her ear.
Hermione’s head snapped around to face the sweaty man she’d been talking to, taking a step back from him leaning intrusively into her personal space, “I-I think I saw Harry and Ginny, if you’ll excuse me,” nervous, she held her drink a little closer, turning to make her escape.
Quickly navigating the crowded ballroom, she prayed that Harry and Gin were here. Finally, she saw them, letting out a small sigh of relief, she made her way over to them, only for her chest to seize up as she came closer, seeing Ron with him. She was about to turn to find somewhere else to hide out her time at the gala when Harry saw her and waved her over. Taking a sip of her drink for courage she joined in the group. Nearly shaking with the anticipation of seeing him again.
Greeting everyone, she gave a hug to Ginny and then to Harry. Ron took a step forward, arms open, red face expectant, only to turn to confusion as she took a step back and reached out her hand for a handshake.
“Good to see you, Ronald,” she shook his hand coldly, unable to let go of her mistrust.
He cleared his throat, taking a step back from her awkwardly, “Of course, it’s good to see you too ‘Mione,”
Ginny looked between them, giving Hermione the evil eye and pulling her in by the elbow, “Don’t make it awkward, this is my first night out in months,” she whispered to her under her breath.
Hermione rolled her eyes at the youngest Weasley, “So Ronald, how have you been? How’s the bar been?” Her voice came out as cheerful as she could make it.
Harry’s shoulders came down a noticeable distance as Ron swallowed, “Yah, thin-things have been good, what’ve you been up to?” He stuttered as he did his best to not be awkward, sticking his hand into his pocket and taking it out, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
“I’ve been good, same old stuff,” She said eyes narrowing at Harry’s worried expression returning as he quickly intervened.
“The Canons are doing good if anyone wants to know, we haven’t lost a game this season,” He threw an arm around Ginny, trying to diffuse the tension of the situation.
“That’s great, mate, Travis isn’t killing the vibe on the whole team, is he?” Ron jumped at the change in topic and Hermione released a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.
Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother and husband as they continued to talk shit about other team members, “They think we gossip,” She said turning to Hermione, “They’re worse than two old biddies,”
Hermione laughed off the rest of her tension, draining the last of her drink, “Really, they are,” she held up her empty glass to Ginny as an invitation to join her to find more.
Ginny hooked her arm through hers as they walked off, letting the men talk about quidditch “So how’s that case been coming along, the one you were telling me about on Tuesday?” Ginny guided her over to the open bar in the massive ballroom, “What was it on? Dragon eggs?”
They gestured to the bartender, “I can’t seem to get a solid lead on it,” Hermione frowned as they watched as a wine bottle floated over to pour drinks, “And now a new case just popped up with missing mermaid scales. I don’t know if they’re connected, but it seems like they are. Either that or their department is just corrupt to all hell,” Ginny nodded as she tried to gesture to the bartender again to get his attention.
“Mermaid scales? Now that’s a massively illegal potion ingredient,”
The bartender finally came over to place two glasses of red wine in front of them. The hair on the back of Hermione’s neck stood on end, “We didn’t order these,” her confusion rising.
“Some bloke on the other side of the bar sent them for you,” the nicely dressed bartender gestured to the other side of the bar, divided from them by a wall.
Ginny and Hermione exchanged a frown as the barkeep was swept away to attend to others. Ginny shrugged, “Well, I guess this is what we’re drinking now,” picking it up to taste it.
Hermione followed suit, the dark wine tasted of berries and had a smokiness that was hard to place, shrugging, “It’s really not bad,”
“I wish I knew what it was,” Ginny giggled.
Hermione rolled her eyes, chuckling at her friend, Elf-made wine was notoriously strong, and Ginny, since having kids, had become a notorious lightweight, “I wish I knew who sent it,” sending drinks was a popular custom in the muggle world, but was generally frowned upon in the wizarding one, unless it was serious courtship contracted between purebloods.
“Oh, I almost forgot, you’ll never believe who I heard was back,” Ginny rushed through a drink of wine, excited to tell her of the gossip.
Hermione’s eyebrows raised, waiting for the answer, “ Drac –”
Only to be interrupted by a tap on her shoulder, Ginny's mouth snapped shut, looking over Hermione’s shoulder blushing furiously.
Hermione turned towards the unwelcome tapper to find a man, probably in his mid-thirties and dressed to the nines. Even for the gala, he could be considered overdressed. Light-brown hair slicked back, with a waistcoat and formal dress robes over top. Hermione struggled to stop herself from groaning.
“Yes?” her eyebrow arched as she looked him over.
“Miss Hermione Granger, would you do me the honor of—”
“No,” she turned back to the bar to take another sip of the delectable elf-made wine. Ginny choked her face in her wineglass, trying not to laugh. Hermione heard sputtering behind her, and the entitled man tapped her shoulder again.
“Yes,” She looked over her shoulder at him.
He tried to gain ahold of his sputtering and the embarrassment, “I would appreciate it if you would honor me with a dance,”
Hermione looked him over again, “No,” she deadpanned, “Now I would appreciate it if you would honor me by removing your presence,” Her face lacked any amusement, daring him to try and insist.
His jaw dropped, face reddening further, “I-I was hoping to get you alone for a moment,” he stuttered over his words, looking down at his feet.
Hermione’s eyebrow arched, Ginny stood back with barely contained laughter. He looked like he was barely holding in tears, Hermione rolled her eyes, “Fine. Why?”
His shoulders relaxed ever-so slightly, “Well, -- I, ---, I’m sorry, I just want ---,”
“For merlin’s sake, sound it out,” Hermione rubbed her forehead in a gesture of annoyance.
His shoulders braced, he dropped to one knee out of nowhere, and fumbled for his pocket, pulling out a ring box, “Hermione Granger,” He began to announce, voice shaky, “Would you mar—”
“There it is,” Hermione sounded anything but surprised, hiding her own anger and embarrassment behind her hand, “Merlin, pull yourself together, people are beginning to stare,” Hermione’s hand dropped to her skirts to pull out her wand. With two quick flicks up, the man was forced back to his feet, and spun in place, “Now, my answer is no, it will always be no, and I’m not afraid to get Aurors involved if you continue to harass me,”
The embarrassed man took the hint and almost ran on the trajectory that Hermione set him on. Hermione watched while he quickly made his way through the gala and towards the floos. Shaking her head, she turned back to her glass of wine and Ginny, eyeing the crowd around the bar now staring at them.
Making eye contact, Ginny finally broke down into laughter, “I can’t believe men keep doing that,” she gasped through her laughter.
Hermione groaned, “It’s ridiculous really, some pureblooded chit thinks I’m going to boost his ego and station just because I am who I am,” The crowd dispersed as they took their drinks to try and head back to find Harry and Ron.
Draco was ready to murder someone. He sent over a top-notch wine, not just for her but for the weasel girl too, only to watch as their drink was interrupted by someone else. Merlin, why wouldn’t she be? She had to be the most attractive woman there, not to mention accomplished. Rumor had it, Minister of magic himself ordered her to be there to support his chosen candidate.
Theo sidled up next to him at the bar, “What’s got the sour look on your face, Drake?” Theo snatched his tumbler of Ogden’s best off the counter and sipped from the glass.
Draco flagged the bartender for another, “I had it all figured out, they were going to get the drinks, and I was going to go and say hello,” he fumed. The goddamn bastard just dropped onto one knee, “What the fuck, now he’s fucking proposing,” He rolled his eyes at the display, “I thought Granger was single,” he drained the new drink as soon as it was set front of him, frantically waving for another, while Theo craned his head to see past the center divided bar.
Theo laughed when Granger whipped out her wand and turned the man around in an impressive display of wordless magic, “Yah, I should’ve warned you, Granger’s been getting offers left and right since she and Weasly went public with their breakup. Every eligible pureblood has been approaching her, most of them looking to regain status or keep what status they have. She’s single for sure, but these gits don’t seem to get the message she’s not going to align with pureblooded customs of marrying first and getting to know each other later,” It was a wonder the male population didn’t fall to their knees upon her entrance into the gala, Merlin, she was beautiful. And the dress, Draco was pretty sure that she had reached into his deepest fantasies and pulled it out. It seemed simple enough at first, simple black bodice, square neckline, high-waisted skirt that flowed perfectly. But when she moved, god almighty, when she moved the skirt moved around her and revealed a slit up to her thigh to show off her perfectly muscular legs and dainty feet with classic sharp heels. Her hair was draped artistically, if not a little haphazardly, on top of her head. The ringlets that escaped her chignon swayed as she moved her head, more coming loose the more she moved, showcasing her wild nature.
“Merlin, she just sent that guy away holding his balls,” Draco watched as the woman of his dreams turned into a harpy from hell. She was ready to do the same to any man who approached her.
Theo laughed, “Still thinking it’s gonna be easy, mate?”
A grin broke out on his face, “Compared to that weak display of manhood, I’m any woman’s dream,” Draco pushed a stray hair out of his face, “Besides, all I need to do is get her into bed, and she’ll be crawling back for more,” Or would he? He always knew that once with her wouldn’t be enough. Having her below him, clawing for blood on his back, wild curls fanning out on the pillow below them, tempting him to pull them and control her entirely. Fuck, the idea of asserting his dominance over her and claiming her in front of everyone had him halfway to finishing.
Theo snapped his fingers in front of his face, “Still with me, Drake?” Draco snapped out of his fantasy. He needed to get his hands on her fast. These fantasies were taking over his life. The sooner he had her and married her the sooner he can compartmentalize and satiate the need driving his every movement recently, “She’s walking away you know,” Theo sat there observing him, sipping the Ogden’s Draco forgot about and fisting the first.
His head snapped up, watching her shapely ass as she walked away, thigh holster for her wand peeking out every step, he sighed, “The opportunity was ruined anyway, I’ll have to find some other opening,” he snatched back his drink from Theo, “Are you coming?”
Standing up, Draco couldn’t help the eagerness rising in his chest, time to hunt.
They followed the ladies into the mass crowd of the ballroom, there were several men approaching his witch, even on the brief walk over. He felt his tension relax every time she ignored them or just brushed past them, leaving the men in confused frustration. With each one, Draco became more and more confident throughout the time watching her, she was his, and he will not be denied.
They watched as she and the girl weasel joined with her group, Potter and the weasel. His confidence took a blow as he watched them talk, but soon inflated again seeing her cold demeanor towards the redhead.
Hermione did her best to talk with Ron, really, she did. But her complete lack of trust in him and his lack of overall competence stopped her from sharing anything of substance with him as they did when they were friends. Now, hearing him drone to the entire group about how crappy his relationship with Lavender turned out, she would rather eat her own foot than keep listening. The man couldn't read the room to save his life, she caught Harry's eye as he looked over at her apologetically.
Sipping her drink, she did her best to look engaged with Ron’s rant about some meaningless chit, she looked around for any option to excuse herself, Hermione looked around the gala, catching the eyes of Kingsley as he entertained a group of rich wizarding folk. Hermione was going to curse him for ditching her later. Or maybe just bless his office with a group of Cornish pixies, Hermione chuckled at herself, continuing to entertain herself with thoughts of adding a curse into his office to make it so he could never find a pen, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Ron,” No she wasn’t, “I think I just saw Kingsley waving for me, I’ll join back up soon,”
Ginny glared at her as she walked towards Kingsley, a galleon says she has her own curse to come back to for ditching Ginny to listen to her brother’s drivel.
Kingsley opened his arm, welcoming her to the group as she walked over, “As promised, gentlemen, the brains of the Golden Trio,” Hermione did her best to fake a laugh at his invitation.
“I thought I felt my ears burning, it’s nice to meet everyone,” Hermione cursed herself for ditching Harry and Ginny, why did I think this would be better than Ron’s droning on?
“As I was just saying, Rolfe Jr., Hermione would be delighted to dance with you,” the youngest man in the circle bowed his head in thanks, light brown hair combed back. His robes were very nice, but not dripping in money like his companions. He had to be a few years older than her, and he was attractive, but his association with the pureblooded money bags that now surrounded Kingsley was suspicious all the same.
Hermione fumed; Kingsley was going to walk into his office to find it cursed for sure. She forced out a chuckle, “I would?” She looked to Kingsley. If he knew he was in trouble, he didn’t show it.
“Of course!” Kingsley boomed, “Hermione this is Yeager Rolfe Jr. his father and I were just discussing a significant donation to the progression of the wizarding people,” Kingsley’s grin grew, as though speaking with old friends.
“Not so fast Kingsley, I need to make sure the funds will be allocated properly,” the silver haired man next to Rolfe Jr. chided him.
Kingsley waved his concerns, “Anything you see fit to add to the contract, to ensure their proper usage, in the meantime, this is a party! Let’s get a drink and discuss details,” he gathered the group with him and herded them to the bar, throwing a stern look over his shoulder at her.
Looking over to Rolfe, left standing next to her, he offered her his arm, “Shall we?”
“Of course,” She forced a smile, pushing down her sneaking suspicion that the next few minutes were going to be very unpleasant. She took his arm and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.
Rolfe put his hand on her waist and began to guide her through the complicated dance, clearly trained in dancing for formal affairs since birth.
“I must say, I was surprised when Minister Shacklebolt said you were here, along with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. I was even more surprised when he offered a dance,” Rolfe spun her in his grip, pulling her closer than she was comfortable with, her smile wavering.
“Why do you say that?” She asked.
“Well, everyone knows you and Ron Weasley…” He trailed off.
She walked her circle around him, “Well, Ron and I broke up years ago now,”
His eyes widened in disbelief, “I’ll be honest, I don’t pay much attention to the gossip rags,” He chuckled, pulling her back in, his eyes narrowing as his grin grew, “If that may be the case, where’s your date for tonight?”
He was probing for information, she knew it, looking for a way in, and the politest way to answer to make sure Kingsley still got the much-needed donation.
Draco was grinding his teeth watching his witch dance with, of all fucking people, Yeager Rolfe Jr. Of all people to take an interest, of course it was him. His father was notorious as a diligent supporter of Voldemort during the first wizarding war. By the time the second rolled around, his family’s ideals of pureblood extremism had gotten so ridiculous they had even lost faith in Voldemort and his ideas. To them the perfect muggleborn was meant only for breeding potential and to be restricted to the home, to keep embarrassment to a minimum, or in extreme cases, a barn. At least Voldemort was willing to put them out of their misery.
His hands clenched into fists, ready to kill the man just for touching what was his.
Theo put a hand on his shoulder, “Mate, she looks miserable,” She looked like her smile was plastered onto her face, and twice now she’s looked around almost panicked at whatever situation she had gotten herself into.
“Thinking she needs a knight in shining armor?” Theo smiled, gesturing with his head. Draco drained his drink, his friend was right, it was time to make his move, before he destroyed the entire gala out of jealousy.
Hermione struggled looking for an answer for Rolfe. As soon as she said she wasn’t seeing anyone, his advances became much more overt, and he became much more handsy during the dance.
His hands went to her ass as he pulled her close, “What do you say ‘golden girl’? Why don’t we get out of here and get a real drink?” Hermione struggled not to vomit into his smug face, his breath was rancid.
Stepping back from him at the long-anticipated ending of the song, “I appreciate the offer, Rolfe, however, I’m not interested,” she said removing his sticky hands from her ass.
He stepped after her, “Surely you don’t mean that,”
She took another step back from his advancing, just as a large body stepped between them, “Rolfe, mind if I cut in?”
Hermione stumbled back at the insertion of the large man. His arm wrapped around her waist to keep her upright, and she looked to him. Draco fucking Malfoy. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the man since she exited his court room nearly ten years ago now. She felt her mouth drop open.
“Actually, Malfoy, I do mind very much, Ms. Granger and I were about to go for a drink,”
“Were you?” His piercing blue eyes met hers, “Well, unfortunately, we are currently in our courtship, so I don’t think that would be appropriate,” Malfoy turned to Rolfe, “And I don’t appreciate where I just saw your hands on my witch. So, if you wouldn’t mind, we would like some time to ourselves,” Draco glared at him, while the color drained from Rolfe’s face.
Jaw clenched, Rolfe gave a slight bow of the head to her, “Very well. Enjoy your night,”
Malfoy watched as he walked away, before turning to the frozen in place Hermione and placing his hand on her waist for the next dance.
Hermione shut her mouth with a snap, “Malfoy, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” she tried to keep her voice even.
“Dancing,” He stated calmly.
Her eyebrow arched, “You know what I meant,” she tried to pull her hand from his grasp, but he held it tight.
“Well, I thought I was saving your ungrateful arse, but I can go and call Rolfe back over, I’m sure he would love to hear you’re ready for that drink,” his arrogant eyes flashed and he guided her through the steps of the dance with practiced ease.
Hermione sighed, as they turned to face each other again, “I’m thankful for the save, Malfoy, but what was that crap about a courtship?”
Malfoy pulled her into the crook of his arm, and Hermione felt her heart stop. She hadn’t realized how much he had grown, at first. His muscular arm trapped her to him, while his other hand danced along her hip. She looked into his eyes, grey like the skies after a storm, she could’ve gotten lost in his gaze if he let her.
He chuckled, like he knew his effect on her, “That was nothing you don’t want it to be”
She shook her head slightly, trying to find her scattered thoughts again, “It’s going to be front-page news by morning,” she scolded. He whipped her around, spinning her back to his front. Her head spun with his scent, fresh apples, morning dew, and basil.
“Then we’ll put on a show for a few weeks to try and keep the press preoccupied,” He whispered in her ear. Her head went fuzzy, trying to lean into him more.
A realization snapped her back to awareness, “And why exactly would you do that?” her voice went cold, “I can’t imagine you’re being nice, just to be nice,”
The dance was beginning to end, and he hooked his arm tighter around her waist as she tried to step back. His eyes narrowed down at her, “I have no intentions of ‘being nice, just to be nice’” his face was hard to read, “But allow me to spell it out for you, I have every intention of pursuing you,”
Hermione’s blood turned to ice in her veins as she stared up at him, his face turning into one of steely determination, his arm holding her in place on his body, “And I highly doubt you’ll find me as easy to disarm as the weak-willed tossers that have been approaching you,”
How the fuck did this happen. Hermione was at a loss for words, there was no world in which she ever thought he would have someone who wanted to be a friend, let alone someone who thought of her romantically. Every time he had cornered her in a hallway to make fun of her, every time he spat curses in her direction, every time he laughed at her in the back of class for answering too quickly, every time he called her a mudblood with a sneer. It all ran through her head, so at odds with the man who had just propositioned her.
She jolted in his hold, struggling in his arms to get away, “I don’t know what happened to you in Azakaban, Malfoy, but you’ve clearly gone mad,”
She pushed against his chest uselessly as a new song began to play, a deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, “Have I now?” He looked entertained, finally releasing her from his hold before others around them began to notice, “Like I said Granger, you’ve officially been warned,”
She stumbled back a step, reaching for her wand as soon as she was freed from his hold. He watched her with a grin on his face, stepping back and putting his hands up, piercing eyes never leaving hers as he turned to leave her alone on the dance floor.