Chapter 4
For just a second there was a look of surprise on Malfoy’s face, but it was gone as quick as it came. He put down his drink on a nearby waiter tray and nodded. He gestured his hand toward the dance floor as if to say after you.
It had been awhile since Hermione last danced formally, but the jazzy lighthearted music was easy to sway to. They both stared at one another awkwardly shuffling toward one another until finally he took Hermione’s hand. His hand was warm and somewhat calloused. Much bigger than hers. She noticed a black ring on one of his fingers but didn’t get long to look at it before she was swept along the dance floor. They moved almost effortlessly. She followed his confident lead and led her along the dancefloor. After a few minutes, she started to smile which seemed to ease Malfoy. She noticed his shoulders relax. His face less tight.
“Let me guess,” she said, “you’ve taken dancing lessons all your life?” she says mockingly.
He smirks. “What gives it away?”
“I guess your dancing skills aren’t completely abysmal.”
This makes him chuckle and he shrugs. “It comes in handy I suppose.”
Hermione smiles and bites her lip and they continue to sway and spin, Malfoy’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist. Suddenly, he spins her around, grips her and then dips her lowly to the ground. Hermione gasps, but tries to keep her composure.
“Think you can keep up?” he taunts.
She smirks and pushes herself up.
“I am a fast learner.”
“I don’t doubt it, Granger.”
They continue to move around the floor, not paying attention to the onlookers who have now abandoned their drinks to watch them. To Hermione, there is nothing else going on but hearing the music and feeling the champagne flow throughout her body. She feels light in Malfoy’s arms. Soon enough the music changes to a slower tempo. The quick sways and spins come to small movements. Suddenly Hermione becomes aware of how close she is to Malfoy. His arm now constricting. The butterflies return to her stomach. What would her friends think of her now? In Malfoy’s arms?
Malfoy seemed to have noticed her change in mood. He slowly let go of her and took a step back.
“Can I get you another drink?”
She looks up to him and gives him a tight smile, “Sure that sounds good.”
They make their way back to the food and drinks table where Malfoy grabs a glass of champagne.
“Perhaps something stronger?” Hermione says lightly.
Malfoy’s eyes rise in surprise and then the familiar smirk returns to his face. He whispers to one of the nearby waiters who nods and walks away for a minute before returning with another glass with a darker liquid. Malfoy thanks the waiter and hands Hermione the drink.
“Cheers, Granger,” he raises his glass to knock against her glass. They both take a gulp of their drink, downing it all in one go. Malfoy grimaces and Hermione lets out a little groan. Firewhiskey.
“Yep, definitely stronger,” she giggles. They both set down their glasses when an older woman comes up to them.
“Excuse me, but are you Hermione Granger?”
Hermione nods, “Yes.”
“Wow, what an honor it is to meet you. I am Briar Morgana.”
“Oh, thank you. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Hermione still doesn’t know how to handle the attention. She is usually able to handle it a bit better than Harry and Ron, trying to keep things pleasant. But it still throws her off even now. Her reaction is even more thrown off due to the alcohol in her system.
The older lady begins rambling on about what she used to do in the Ministry. Now retired, it seems as though she is an avid consumer of Wizarding World gossip. She asks many questions about Harry. What is he up to now? Married? Kids? Is she married? Hermione politely tries to evade her questions while Malfoy is silently chuckling and sipping his new found glass. Hermione gives him pleading eyes of desperation, help me.
Malfoy sets his glass down and looks at his watch.
“I hate to interrupt Mrs. Morgana but I promised Ms. Granger a look at the family's art collection and it seems to be getting rather late. If you will excuse us,” Malfoy smiles politely and puts his hand on the old woman's arm.
“Oh, of course dear. Once again, what an honor to meet you,” she shakes Hermione’s hand. Hermione notices Malfoy rolling his eyes in her periphery. She smiles and thanks her once again. When she finally leaves, Hermione looks towards him.
“Thank you,” she sighs.
“Of course. Anything to help out the Golden Girl,” he says sarcastically to which Hermione rolls her eyes and shoves him away.
“Shut up,” she giggles.
They fall back into a comfortable silence and observe the other guests.
“So this art collection?” Hermione smirks.
“Yes?”
“Well, are you going to show it to me?”
His eyebrows rise, “You actually want to see it?”
“Well now that I know it exists, I can’t help but be curious,” she shrugs.
Malfoy nods, “Alright. But no touching.”
Hermione rolls her eyes, “I’m not completely uncivilized Malfoy.”
Malfoy harrumphs, and guides Hermione to another room to the left of the foyer-turned-ballroom. As Malfoy guides her along, she takes in the rest of the hallways and room. The stunning wallpaper of the hallway is decorated with small flowers. A few family portraits (passed and present) hang on the walls, some of which sneer at Hermione as she walks by. She ignores it. Other decor items hang on the walls such as mirrors and art pieces. When they walk by a room with an open door, she can’t help but slightly lean in to take a look at what's inside. So far, she had seen an empty bedroom, an office, a drawing room, and another conspicuous room that she couldn’t quite see into. It seemed as though the house just went on and on turning left and right constantly. The walls changed designs and painting as they went. One wall was almost entirely windows. She had to stop for a second and take in the views of the grassy knoll shining in moonlight. They had finally reached the end of the hall where Malfoy stopped in front of an ornate red door. Hermione smiled in anticipation.
Malfoy swings the door open and lets her walk in first and closes the door behind them. She gasped at the sight. Art was everywhere. The room had a high ceiling, allowing for more wall space. She had to be careful walking around because every few steps was a pillar that had a piece of art propped up for view. There were several marble statues that were carved so precisely it didn’t even look like marble. A variety of painting styles were on display. A mixture of abstract, modernism, postmodernism. Curiously a mix of muggle and wizarding art. As she wandered aimlessly, she noticed a statue that looked oddly familiar. She was struck by the memory of her parents taking her to the Louvre in Paris. She had been about thirteen. It was a short little trip to Paris and she was dying to see the art. At this point she was still roughly getting used to magic, only really knowing about it for a couple years. Being surrounded by the art reminded her of the Wizarding Word. It felt like the closest she could get to magic without actually being there during the summer. She had been pursuing the museum for hours until her parents finally had to tell her it was time to leave for their dinner reservations. She had asked them so many questions trying to learn as much as she could. Even at dinner that night she was raving about her favorite piece which happened to be a statue, TheWinged Victory of Samothrace. It was a statue of a woman, who is missing her arms and head. Wings spread out behind her. It’s supposed to be a representation of the Greek god Nike. At this moment in time, Hermione was interested in Greek gods and history and how it is interwoven in magic. Malfoy's statue looked much like this one.
“Malfoy,” she looked around for him in the expansive room. With the call of his name, he peeked his head around another sculpture, a lion.
“This isn’t the real Winged Victory of Samothrace is it?” she asked.
“What do you think?” he grinned.
“I would like to say no. This should be in a museum.”
He snickered. “Well people do buy things from a museum.”
She scoffed, “But not this. It must have cost a fortune. Do you have any idea how monumental this sculpture is?” Her voice contained a bit more bite to it than she really intended.
“Of course I know how expensive it is. I bought it.” His eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.
“You bought it?” she said incredulously. How much money did he actually have?
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I saw it earlier this year and was just mesmerized by it. I just kept going back to it every few weeks. Then I just decided that I wanted it,” he shrugged it and sipped his drink.
It may be the alcohol in her system, but Hermione continued to look at Malfoy with surprise.
“You just wanted it?”
“Yes,” he said nonchalantly.
This only seemed to anger her more.
“You are ridiculous. I can’t believe you just bought this!” she crossed her arm indignantly.
“What would you rather me do? Steal it?” he teased.
“Of course not! I-I just, it belongs in a museum where everyone can look at it, not just you.” The nerve of him. How could he just buy this and not think anything of it? How arrogant could he be?
“Calm down Granger. It’s not that big of a deal.” He put his drink down on a nearby table, voice slightly raised.
She rolled her eyes at this. “Not a big deal. You do realize how impactful this sculpture of art is in the muggle world right? And you’re just treating it like it doesn’t mean anything!”
“Of course I do! Trust me, I also do my research and due diligence before buying any piece of art.” This time it was his turn to cross his arms. He inspected her closely, eyebrows still furrowed. Hermione was now slightly turned away from him. She peeked a look at him from the corner of her eye but then she just started to get mad again.
“What’s really going on here?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
He gave her a look as to say, really? I don’t believe you.
She sighed and rolled her eyes again.
She sighs, “well if you must know, it’s just- well it’s just, don’t laugh at me,” she points an accusing finger at him.
He raises his hands up, “Never,” he smirks.
“It’s just that it was my favorite piece as a child and you just bought it and took it away! Purely because you just wanted it!”
She could tell Malfoy was fighting back a grin. She pushed him away.
“Shut up! You are so annoying!” she giggled.
“I didn’t say anything!”
Now they were both giggling.
“Well you are welcome any time to come and see it.”
At this she widened her eyes.
“Really?”
“Sure,” he shrugs. “This way you don’t have to pay to even see it.”
She smiled and continued walking around to view the other art.
Soon enough, her feet were starting to hurt despite the cushioning charm and she felt a little wobbly from the alcohol.
Malfoy conjured two seats for them to sit. There were really only ambient lights on and the light that came from the moon through the windows. The music from the ballroom could be heard only faintly. Malfoy continued to nurse his drink. He undid some of his tie and stretched out his legs looking very relaxed. He seemed to be looking at the art while she looked at him. He seemed quite different than what she knew him to be. He was calm, witty, and funny.
They talked about the different paintings and how he acquired them over the past year or so to fill the silence. Some of them were paintings or artwork that his mother picked out, but the majority of the collection was from him. As they continued to speak, their words became more slurred. Hermione felt no anxiety or apprehension. She continued to tell him more about her roles within the Ministry. He stared at her with glossy eyes and a lazy smile as she spoke.
“You know Granger, I do have to admit something,” he interrupted.
“What,” she smiled.
“I was hoping I could talk to you. You see, while taking care of my mother and doing the research with dragons, I have had a taste of what the real world looks like. Despite being pardoned, I have still been faced with slurs and dirty looks. To be honest, if I wasn’t the great Malfoy heir, I’m sure I would be completely outcast from society. For several months both my mother and I would receive many howlers telling us horrible things. Eventually it stopped being as bad. My mother and I didn’t leave the house much. Then I started doing research with dragons and that helped occupy my time. There, I met Charlie Weasley. I immediately wanted to leave, but thankfully he was actually quite understanding. I wouldn’t call us friends, but we get along nice enough. I have learned a lot from him. Then, a few months ago, Potter came out to research something. Him and Charlie were working pretty closely on a project and every once in a while I would help them.” Hermione remembered this. Harry had been gone for several weeks researching the effects of dragon fire on natural resources in an attempt to see if it could be used to help forge magical objects. She didn’t remember him ever mentioning Malfoy being there.
“Well needless to say. Over the past couple of years, I have learned a lot. Felt what it meant to be truly hated. Potter and I are what you could call…amicable. Now this next part, I told Potter that if he ever told anyone about it I would hex his balls off,” she giggled, “I apologized for my part in the war and how I treated him. Let’s just say I don’t handle rejection well,” he smiled, surely remembering back to first year. “I know I was a complete and utter twat growing up.” Hermione gave him a look. “Alright, even worse than that. But if the war taught me anything, it taught me about what it means to truly understand why you believe in what you believe. It made me question everything,” he took a swing of his drink. “While being stuck under house arrest and interacting with other people outside of my bubble, it really made me think of everything. Our choices and actions have consequences and I was a complete and utter coward,” Hermione opened her mouth to say something but Malfoy raised his hand in protest. “I was Granger. Now, I am not saying all of this because of the alcohol. I apologized to Potter and I am slowly making my way to work up to Weaselby, that will probably take a bit longer to be honest,” they both chuckled, “but when I saw you at the coffee shop, I knew it was a sign. Granger I am so sorry for everything. There is nothing that I can say that will ever make it better. But I am truly sorry for all of my harsh and degrading words. For all of my actions and the roles I played in your hardships. I could live a thousand lifetimes and still never deserve your forgiveness. You deserve the world and more for what you have been through and I regret any and every part I had in it.”
Hermione wasn’t expecting the night to turn into this. Malfoy was looking at her with pleading eyes. They were slightly bloodshot and slightly teary eyed. With his arm draped behind her holding his now empty glass, she could feel his warmth and the slight smell of alcohol in his breath. She took a deep breath and smiled.
“Thank you Malfoy. To be honest, I never thought I would hear you apologize. I greatly appreciate it. To be honest, I think I forgave you a long time ago. We were all just kids,” she shrugged. “There are a lot of things we all regret. Lately, I have just been focusing on trying to move on from it all and I think that starts with forgiveness. So of course I forgive you,” she places her hand on top of his hand that sits in his lap. “And I promise that it isn’t just because of the alcohol either,” she laughs and slightly leans closer to him. She smiles at him, staring into his perfect blue eyes.
The arm that Malfoy has draped across the back of the chair comes up and he takes a strand of loose hair that has fallen in front of her face. He tucks it behind her ear and lets it rest there, cupping her cheek.
“Thank you, Granger.”
“Thank you, Malfoy,” she smiles and leans into his hand. They sit there for a moment, looking into each other's eyes.
“You really are quite beautiful Granger,” he smiles.
She scoffs and rolls her eyes, turning away from his hand on her face. He stops her by gripping her chin lightly, forcing her to look at him.
“You are. I am a fool for not recognizing it sooner.”
Hermione lets out a small gasp. Malfoy bites his lower lip. He traces his thumb over her lower lip, staring. They lean slightly into one another.
“Tell me to stop Granger,” he all but whines. Hermione’s only response is to lean in closer. His lips ghost over hers. Their lips almost touch when a giant beam of light shines through the loud opening of a door. Narcissa Malfoy walks in with a house elf just behind her. They both immediately back away from one another.
“There you are Draco. I have been looking everywhere for you. You have guests to attend to.” Malfoy looks at Hermione sheepishly and stands up from his chair. He reaches out his hand for her to take. She reluctantly does despite Narcissa’s cold stare. A blush violently appears on her cheeks.
They reach the door where Narcissa stands. “You have a beautiful art collection Mrs. Malfoy,” she says, trying to diffuse the tension. “Thank you for allowing me to see it.”
She nods, “Thank you, Ms. Granger. I am glad you enjoyed it.”
Both Malfoy and Hermione awkwardly make their way down the hall back towards the dance hall while Narcissa says behind whispering with the house elf by her side. Hermione turns around, not wanting to bud into their whispering.
They make it back to the hall where it seems as though the party has become a bit more carefree. It was loud. People were stumbling around. Laughter and shouting fill the room. Hermione turns to look at Malfoy. He is looking out at the many people still dancing. She is suddenly very conscious of what almost occurred. Was he going to kiss her? More importantly, was she going to let it happen? Or was she just imagining it?
With an eagerness to leave she taps Malfoy’s shoulder. “I should probably get back. It is getting rather late.”
She couldn’t quite read Malfoy’s face.
“Of course. Do you know your way back?”
“Yes. Thank you for the invitation. I had a wonderful time.”
“Anytime,” he awkwardly looks away, dismissing her.
Okay then.
She grabs the skirt of her dress to walk up the steps. When she gets to the top she turns around one more time, looking for Malfoy already lost in the crowd. She hesitates. What did she expect? Him to ask her to stay? With a sigh, she turns to leave and apparates back to her hotel room completely unaware of the icy blue eyes that had been watching her leave.