Chapter 4
An owl arrived for Hermione late in the afternoon before the ball. Fred handed the message to her and asked if she wanted to send a return answer. She opened the message, looked at it, turned and ran up the stairs in tears.
“Dearest Hermione,
I am so sorry to bring you bad news. Our portkey expired early, and I will not be able to escort you to the ball. I promise to make it up to you when I get home.
I miss you terribly, darling,
All my love,
Draco”
Hermione flung herself on her bed, weeping. She was devastated. She had looked so forward to finally being able to be with Draco in public, letting everyone in her small, tidy world know that they were bucking centuries of tradition and marrying outside their station. She was eager to prove that just because she had been raised in genteel poverty, she had been given a classical education to start and continued learning even after she was deemed to have learned everything that a girl needed to know.
A timid knock on the door interrupted her ruminations. She pulled herself up and off the bed and opened it to find Ginny.
“Are you ok? Fred said that you received a letter and then abruptly ran upstairs. He thought you were crying.” Ginny looked more closely at Hermione. “And you have been. What happened?”
Hermione opened the door wider and gestured for Ginny to enter. They went over towards the window and tucked themselves in the window seat that overlooked the Malfoy Lands. It was grey outside and threatening snow.
“So?”
“I received an owl from Draco. He’s stuck in eastern Europe; his portkey expired early and neither he nor Blaise will be able to make it to the ball,” Hermione sniffed. Now that she had said it aloud, she wanted to cry all over again.
“Oh no, Hermione! That is awful. I know how much you were looking forward to it. And to being with him in public finally. Is there no chance of them coming back?”
“It sounds as if it would take a miracle.” Hermione looked down at her dress and picked at a thread. She looked back up at Ginny with more unshed tears in her eyes. “It’s just that I”ve waited such a long time and there have been so many obstacles we’ve had to overcome.”
“I’m so sorry, Hermione. Harry and I will make sure you are taken care of,” Ginny said.
“Ginny, I can’t attend the ball,” Hermione said, eyes wide. “I’ll ruin my reputation to be sure!”
“What do you mean? Of course you are going!” Ginny said vehemently. “This isn’t London, Hermione, you can be seen at a gathering without a partner. You can pretend to chaperone Harry and me,” she said with a wicked grin.
Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. “I’ll think about it. But don’t think I’m going to turn a blind eye if the two of you sneak into some alcove. You’ll be sorry you asked me to.” She continued to laugh at Ginny’s pure as the driven snow expression.
“Why, I don’t know whatever you mean by that, Miss Granger,” she said in a playfully innocent voice. Peals of laughter rang out. Once they had wiped their eyes and calmed down, Ginny took Hermione’s hand. “And, don’t forget. He will be back as soon as he can.”
“I know,” Hermione sighed. “I’ll be waiting.”
–
The next day was spent in a chaotic frenzy. While Lady Malfoy had plenty of help, she had asked Molly to come up to the Manor to help with food in the kitchen. She flattered Molly by telling her that no one in all of England made soups and sauces the way Molly Weasley did.
The girls protested having to go up to the house and help. They tried to reason with Molly, saying that they needed the time to get ready, that they didn’t see any of the boys having to work at the Manor ten hours before the biggest event of the season. They wore Molly down to concede that they only needed to assist until twelve o’clock and then they could return home to dress. The ball didn’t even start until nine o’clock, Molly said, and surely they wouldn’t need nine hours to prepare.
When they were finished with their duties, Ginny and Hermione ran back to the Burrow and up the stairs to their shared bedroom. They wanted to make sure they were ready before Bill arrived with his partner. While they bathed and dressed, they tried to imagine what the girl would look like and came up with quite a few unflattering possibilities.
They were finally dressed. Ginny was wearing a dark green and black gown, off the shoulder, with a green asymmetrical overskirt trimmed with black lace trim and a black under skirt. She had parted her hair in the middle and drawn it back and into a low chignon at the nape of her neck. She liked the sleek look since her hair was hopelessly straight. Black feathers adorned the chignon and framed the back of her head. She wore long black gloves and topaz earrings. A choker with a matching topaz in the middle was the only other jewelry she wore.
Hermione was in blue and gold. Her gown was also off the shoulder with a low cut bodice of dark blue shot with gold strands. The skirt was bustled and drawn up to the back with a large bow at the center. The skirt was full and of the same blue material, but instead of gold strands, gold stars graced the elegant folds. Hermione’s hair was pulled up into a high ponytail and her curls cascaded down the back of her neck. Molly had lent her golden combs to place in her hair to continue the motif of gold stars. A short strand of gold with small sapphire pendants alternating with seed pearls graced her long neck. She also wore black gloves that went past the elbows.
The two girls followed each other down the stairs and into the formal parlor to wait for Harry and Bill who would escort them to the Manor. Ginny was beside herself with anticipation while Hermione was more reserved and pensive. The reason was clear: this would not be the most important night of her life as she had imagined it to be. She was going as the poor relation of a large working family, lucky to be invited as a matter of fact, according to the other girls from neighboring estates. Hermione and Ginny often crossed paths with the likes of Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkison who made no bones about comparing statuses. The haughty debutantes were always discussing London and the Ton and the Season. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if the Season was so grand, then why had these two young women not been betrothed yet?
They heard the front door open and rushed to see who was entering the house. Both Bill and Harry arrived at the same time and Bill ushered in his guest. She was a vision in light pink. Under her fur-lined cloak, she wore a dress with a fitted bodice sporting a rather modest neckline blended into the skirt of gauzy pink material embellished with gold fleur-de-lis. Matching jewelry completed the ensemble. The young woman’s hair was sleek and pulled away from her face and gathered into a heavily braided chignon.
After Bill introduced his partner to Arthur and Molly, he made his way over to Ginny and Hermione.
“Sister, Hermione. I’d like to introduce you to Fleur Delacour, from Beauxbatons school in France. Fleur, this is my sister Genevra and my cousin Hermione.” Bill shot a warning look at Ginny to greet Fleur warmly.
“Miss Delacour, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Your dress looks lovely.” Ginny said. She kissed her on both cheeks and stepped back for Hermione’s turn.
Hermione followed suit, including the light kisses on each cheek.
“Oh, my goodness, you are all so kind to allow me to attend with Bill’s beautiful family. I do hope that I don’t trod on any feet,” Fleur laughed delicately. “I hope you two will steer me in the right direction tonight. He said you would be delighted - I just do not want to take time away from you and your dance partners.”
Hermione and Ginny exchanged glances. This was not what they expected. They planned on Bill’s guest being just like Daphne or Pansy, haughty, condescending and monopolizing of Bill. Reality was far from the case, however. Fleur was easily one of the most open, vivacious and pleasant girls that ever graced the Burrow’s doorstep.
Arthur broke into the greetings to announce that the carriages were ready. Bill and Fleur would go in one with the twins and Harry, Hermione and Ginny would ride in the second one. Once everyone was seated and they had started to move towards the Manor, Hermione rounded on Ginny.
“Ginny! We cannot give that dance card to Fleur! She is too charming. I want to dislike her, but I can’t. What are we going to do?” Hermione’s voice rose with each new statement.
“Well, she’ll still have to take it, I suppose. I’m not giving up my card and I imagine you would be the same way. You’ve suffered enough in the last 24 hours,” Ginny said with a humph.
“We have to, Gin! Bill would never forgive us!” Hermione protested. “I’m going to give her mine. That’s all there is to it.” She pulled the two dance cards out of her reticule and opened them. Seeing which was the horrible one, she put it back in her purse and held on to the other one.
“Besides, I’m already miserable. How could dancing with the worst bachelors in the country make it any worse?”
“Suit yourself, Hermione, I can’t stop you,” Ginny said, slightly annoyed that Hermione was going to martyr herself at this dance.
–
Once they were inside the Manor, Hermione’s mouth dropped open. Having spent a good portion of her life inside these walls, she was still overcome with the way the great hall sparkled. Fairy lights were everywhere and lit the tall Yule trees decorated with every manner of garland, ribbon and ornaments. Hermione’s first thought was where Lady Malfoy managed to obtain so many fairies and how exhausted they would be at the end of the night.
Hermione and Ginny shrugged off their wraps and handed them to the footmen and walked towards the butler who would be announcing them. He was a very standoffish sort of man, used to looking down his nose at anyone who did not rise up to his master’s station and stature.
“Name?” he said with a very bored look on his face.
“Hermione Granger, of the Burrows,” she said, trying to be as congenial as possible.
“Hmmmph—ohhh, guest of the young Master Malfoy?” All of a sudden his interest was piqued.
“Um, yes. We’re friends,” she replied, blushing slightly. She didn’t realize that was how she would be listed.
“You may proceed,” the butler said. She passed him and waited for Ginny and the others.
Once everyone was through the entryway, they made their way to the receiving line. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were standing along the wall and shaking every gentleman’s hand or kissing their wives’ cheeks. Arthur led the way as it was customary for the head of the household to be the first of the family through the line.
Hermione watched Lucius while she was waiting. He was so striking with his long silvery blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail. He looked like an 18th century landowner from the neck up. It was obvious that he was still in very good shape for his age and daily sedentary lifestyle. He was dressed in black tails with a sprig of holly in his lapel. When he saw Hermione, his eyes softened and his smile was welcoming.
“Miss Granger, my dear, I’m so glad you could attend tonight,” he said as he took her hand. When he bent down to kiss her cheek he whispered in her ear, “in spite of someone missing.” He pulled back and raised his eyebrow at her.
She pulled up short when she realized what he was talking about. She had no idea he knew about the relationship between Draco and her and it threw her for a moment.
But only for a moment. She saw that he was not trying to intimidate her, but actually looking rather sympathetically at her.
“Lord Malfoy, it is always a pleasure to see you. And thank you for inviting me.” She curtseyed and before she could move to Lady Malfoy, he winked at her.
What in the world?
“Miss Granger,” Narcissa spoke her name as if she was reading a recipe. “How nice to see you tonight. You look lovely.” Decidedly less warm than her husband, nonetheless, she kissed Hermione’s cheeks and then, without missing a beat, she looked to the next guest.
Very well, then.
She walked to the area where Ginny was waiting for her with Harry.
“Well, Lord Malfoy was certainly pleased to see you, wasn’t he?” Ginny winked at Hermione.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hermione protested.
“Oh, nothing…except when he bent down to kiss your cheek and he said something in your ear. I wish I could read lips,” Ginny sighed.
“Now Ginny, leave Hermione alone. She can handle herself,” Harry said. “Now, where is your dance card, love? I better be the first one on it.” He laughed and took a look at Ginny’s.
“What? I’m not your first?”
“Look down at the bottom, dear. I had to save the best for last you know,” Ginny smiled up at him.
Harry looked and saw his name as the last one on her card. “Oh,” he said, mollified.
Hermione reached in her reticule and pulled out hers and Fleur’s. She looked at Ginny, hoping that she would have pity on Fleur, but Ginny had made a point of looking at the decorated trees.
“Ginny, what—?”
“Oh Harry, look at this gorgeous tree over here! It looks as if each tree has a theme! Come with me, let’s get a little closer!” Ginny pulled Harry towards the corner of the room, leaving Hermione holding both dance cards.
She didn’t have to wait long, however, as Bill and Fleur walked over to her not long after Ginny had left.
“Ginny told me earlier that you were gracious enough to put together a dance card for Fleur. Is that it?” Bill asked as he pointed to the cards in Hermione’s hands.
“Um, yes,” Hermione stammered, “let me make sure I give her the right one.” She hesitated for a moment, then closed her eyes and stuck out her hand. “Here you go, have a lovely time.”
Fleur took the card and opened it. Her eyes lit up and she looked at Bill. “Bill! You’re my first dance! And supper partner as well! Oh, thank you, Hermione! And please thank Ginny, too. This will be the best night of my life!”
Bill and Fleur walked off, talking animatedly to each other. Hermione stood by herself, looking at her card.
Marcus Flint. I have to dance and eat supper with Marcus Flint. This is not going to be the best night of my life. Not by a long shot.
Again, she sighed and looked around for Marcus. She knew he would most likely be in the smoking room boasting about his card playing abilities with anyone who would listen.
A loud bell rang and Lucius took his place by the orchestra.
“Alright, everybody! Please find your partner. Supper is about to be served!” The group clapped and then went on with their business, the women looking for their supper partners while the men quickly finished up conversations and stubbing out pipes and cigars and downing glasses of firewhisky.
Hermione spotted Marcus coming out of the room she predicted he would be in. She walked over to him and called his name. He turned around and gave her a not very neighborly once over.
“Miss Granger! Please tell me I have won the highest prize of the night: your person for dinner!” He grabbed her hands and even through the gloves she could feel how damp they were. Marcus always had a scent about him, be it horses, or pipe smoke or alcohol. It leached out of his skin and anyone could determine what he had been up to for the previous hour or so by what he smelled like. Tonight, he smelled like smoke and whisky. Hermione tried to cover her dismay.
“Mr. Flint, I am indeed your dinner partner. I look forward to it,” she said, pulling one hand away and crossing her fingers behind her back. He took her other hand and tucked it in the crook of his elbow and covered it with his big, hot, fleshy hand. He practically dragged her into the enormous dining room.
After the supper started, Marcus asked Hermione how she was faring and what she had been doing with her time. He said he remembered seeing her in the village when she was younger and marveled at how she had blossomed. He then proceeded to tell everyone who was within earshot of him how he felt about a woman working outside the home and what their goals and desires should be: basically cater to their husbands and give them children. Hermione tried to debate with him about single women being trapped with relatives or having narrow outlets through which they could support themselves. Marcus, however, preferred to hear his own voice over anyone else’s and pointedly ignored her.
After dessert, he suggested they go to the dance floor and she agreed, hoping that this part of the evening would be ending soon. The dance was, of course, a waltz, so she had to focus on her partner’s hand around her waist, pulling her in too close for propriety and his other clasping her hand and leading her around the floor.
Marcus was not a bad dancer, but between the altogether undesirable close proximity and his signature odor enveloping her, she was counting the beats for the dance to end. When it finally did, Marcus bowed to Hermione and turned to go right back to the gaming rooms, not even walking Hermione back to where Ginny and Harry were gathered with the other Weasleys.
“Hermione!” Ginny grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her into an alcove. “Did you really give Fleur your dance card?”
“Someone had to and I could see very well that you weren’t going to sacrifice yourself,” Hermione groused.
“I can’t believe it,” Ginny protested. “I’ll do my best to have Harry or one of my brothers cut in as often as they can. You are such a dear.” Ginny hugged Hermione and kissed her cheek.
Her next partner was Greg Goyle. He was an above average dancer, but all he could talk about was his estate and the animals on it, some of which were very exotic. Following Greg was Ron, who had surprised everyone by getting leave to come home for the holidays. He proceeded to step on Hermione’s feet the entire time they were dancing. He apologized profusely, but having known him almost all of her life, she knew he didn’t really care. Neville Longbottom was next and he couldn’t help but trip over his own feet. She actually had a nice time dancing with him, even if she did have to keep him from landing on his arse at times.
The rest of the evening went in a similar vein. By the time she got to Vincent Crabbe on her card, he was red-faced, sweaty and no amount of whisky was going to make him comfortable dancing with her at all. Adrian Pucey looked down his nose with disgust almost the whole time they were dancing and he held her hands so lightly, Hermione felt as if he was only touching her because he absolutely had to. She knew how he felt about the lower classes, so she refused to take anything personally from him.
Whenever Cormac McLaggen had a chance, he primped in a mirror as they were passing by during their dance. He was charming but the most ridiculously vain person she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting.
At some point in the evening, when the orchestra took a well-earned break, she felt someone tug at her arm. She turned to find Ginny trying to pull her out of the room. She led them to a powder room that was full of chaise longues and she grabbed one and sat, pulling Hermione down with her.
“Oh, I need a breather, I don’t know about you?” Ginny said, fanning herself. “I needed some air, or at least a place where I could shed these for a moment.” She pushed down the elbow-length gloves and began pulling them off, one finger at a time. “So, are you surviving?” Ginny gave Hermione a onceover. “You don’t look any the worse for wear, Hermione.”
Loath to complain about her partners, even though they were truly horrible, she demurred, saying that they were passable dancers and that she would be happy only when they got back into the carriage that brought them there. Thinking about Draco and how important this night was supposed to be for them, she became a bit misty-eyed.
“Oh Hermione, I’m so sorry. Of course you are miserable. I feel so awful having a wonderful time while you’re sacrificing yourself on the hill of brotherly love.”
Before she had a chance to say anything, Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson walked in. Girls their age who were the daughters of lords never hesitated to remind the masses of that fact.
“Well, look who is here, Pansy? It’s the church mice, come to spy on all the lords and ladies,” Daphne said with a sneer. “Do you smell hay? I think I smell hay, and….yes, horses. Have you two girls been in the stables lately? It’s too bad you couldn’t bathe before the ball to wipe that odor away.” The girls tittered and found a place to sit on the other side of the powder room.
Ginny looked as if she wanted to pull their ridiculous headpieces off and stuff them in their mouths. She made to move when Hermione stopped her.
“Don’t give them the satisfaction, Ginny. If you do then they will have accomplished what they set out to do which is to make us act out in defense.” Hermione tilted her friends’ face away from the two women and towards her. “Please. It’s not worth it.”
Ginny sighed and sat back on the chaise. “I suppose you’re right, but one of these days…”
The two girls exited the powder room continuing their passive aggressive bullying.
“I know, believe me, I know. I can’t make a trip into the village without one or both of them sneering at me as I walk past them in their carriage.” Hermione finished checking her hair and her dress in the mirror and turned back to Ginny.
“Well, I best return to my scintillating partners,” Hermione said, winking at Ginny. “Ready?”
“Absolutely!” They returned to the ballroom and Hermione had to look out for Percy. When she told Ginny that was who her next partner was, Ginny rolled her eyes.
“My goodness, did I really put Percy’s name on Fleur’s card? I’m so sorry. I hope he’s able to actually bend his neck to look at you. He’s so above us, so lofty, he probably thinks he doesn’t breathe the same air,” Ginny said.
“It’s just one dance, Ginny, how bad could it be?” Hermione had known Percy Weasley most of her life. Several years older than she, he was a solicitor in the next county and only came back to the Burrow for events such as the one they were at. He made no secret about his feelings towards his family; he was constantly trying to distance himself from them, several times accusing them of being crass and uncouth. Most of the brothers just ignored him, which made him even more caustic in his criticism.
It was bad. When Hermione sought out Percy, she found him standing by the orchestra looking disdainfully at the crowd.
“Percy?” she asked, drawing his attention down to her. “I believe you are my partner for this next dance.”
Percy looked at Hermione for a brief moment as if he didn’t recognize her. Then he shook his head and apologized.
“I’m sorry, Hermione, I just need to put my glass down over here.” He took her arm and walked towards an empty table. Setting his glass down, he led her out to the dance floor and the orchestra began playing music for a two-step.
Percy was stiff and unyielding in his dancing. Hermione was determined to hold a conversation with him as they danced, but it was like pulling teeth. He was somewhat like Cormac, in that he was preoccupied, not with his own visage, but with being noticed by others. Percy liked to be seen. At the end of the dance, he looked at Hermione with an expression of incredulity, as if he were realizing for the first time that she had been his partner.
“Pardon me, Hermione,” Percy said, only slightly embarrassed, “thank you for the dance and I hope you have a good evening.” He walked her off the floor back over to Ginny and briefly acknowledged his sister and almost brother-in-law’s presence.
“Well, did you survive?” Ginny asked. She handed Hermione a glass of punch and waited for her answer.
“Yes, of course I did. But Percy rather likes knowing that people are paying attention to him rather than paying attention to me,” Hermione said as she sipped the punch.
“So who is next?” Ginny grabbed Hermione’s dance card to look.
“I’m not sure, but here comes Bill and Fleur, Ginny. Now be nice to her,” Hermione admonished.
“I’m always nice to everybody, aren’t I, Harry?” Ginny elbowed Harry to answer her question.
“What? Oh, yes of course, always nice,” Harry said, looking bemused. Ginny turned to Hermione triumphantly.
“See? Oh hello, Bill, Miss Delacour,” Ginny turned to the couple approaching them. “How has your evening been?”
“It has been marvelous! Ginny, you picked out the most wonderful partners for me. Thank you so much for making me feel comfortable,” Fleur said, breezily. “Do you know where my next partner is? It says here that it is a Master Theodore Nott?”
“Who? Oh,” Ginny said, suddenly realizing who she was talking about, “you mean Theo. I think he’s right over there talking to those two ladies.” She pointed in the direction of where Daphne and Pansy were talking to Theo. The sarcastic emphasis on the word “ladies” made Hermione chuckle and then cover her mouth and blush.
“I’ll take you over to him,” Hermione said, after she recovered. She took Fleur by the hand and led her to the group.
“Excuse me, ladies and Theo, this is Miss Fleur Delacour and she has Theo as her next dance partner.” Hermione waited to see the looks on her two nemeses’ faces when they saw their competition. It warmed her heart to see them look Fleur up and down and step back in surprise at her beauty.
“Well, Miss Delacour, it is my honor to escort you to the dance floor. Ladies, will you excuse me?” Theo was all charm and charisma as he took her arm and left the three by themselves.
Hermione was not going to wait for them to strike first.
“Oh my, did I interrupt something between you two and Theo? I’m so sorry. Although, I do have to say, he did look rather relieved when he was introduced to Fleur, so maybe you weren’t wielding your charms very well.” With that, Hermione turned on her heel and walked back towards Ginny.
Her next dance was with Seamus Finigan and apart from Hermione being taller than him, the dance was palatable. She sat out the next couple of dances and realized it was getting late. The last name on her card she dreaded more than anything. It was Master Severus Snape, the boys’ tutor when they were younger. She only ever saw him in the village, having never taken a class from him and heard nothing but awful stories about his sarcasm, hard grading and the many detentions the boys had. Draco was the only one who didn’t really mind him, but that was because he was more of an “uncle” to Draco, having been best friends with Lucius since before Draco was born.
He was a dour man, never socializing, usually found skulking in a corner passing judgment on everyone who had the misfortune of catching his eye.
Oh, dear, this will be quite the challenge.
She spied him adhering to his favorite pastime and warily approached him as if he were an exotic animal, easily excited.
“Mr. Snape?” Severus looked around at hearing his name and then his eyes lighted upon Hermione and his lip curled.
“Yes, Miss Granger, did you need something?” Snape asked with the tone of irritability she remembered. He knew just how to make her feel like she was fifteen again and vying for someone to notice her intelligence.
“Um, well, you’re my partner for the next dance,” she said, wringing her hands and blushing.
Snape’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why Miss Granger, what harebrained idea made you unwisely choose me to partner you for a dance? Because I’m sure it is not your affinity for me that paired us up.” He took her by the elbow and led her out to the floor. As luck would have it, the orchestra started up another waltz and Hermione reluctantly put one hand on his shoulder and placed the other one in his hand.
Hermione sighed. “Would you believe me if I told you I had run out of partners?” She looked up at him quizzically and was rewarded with a piercing glare. “No? I didn’t think so.”
“Let’s just make the best of this and not publicize the awkwardness, shall we?”
Hermione sighed and nodded. She felt herself being pulled along once the music started and surprisingly she found Snape to be a decent dancer, which by that time of night, was a welcome respite indeed.
They never said another word to each other the entire time they danced. Every once in a while she would look at the edges of the dance floor and spy Ginny watching her. When she realized who Hermione was dancing with and made a motion as if she were vomiting. Hermione had to push down a chuckle that threatened to burst out of her mouth. Too late, however; Snape had heard it.
“Something funny, Miss Granger?” Snape drawled.
“No, of course not, Mr. Snape,” Hermione defended herself. Then she sighed. “Do you want the honest truth?” At least she figured that he would appreciate the attempt.
He raised an eyebrow. She took that as an invitation to continue.
“It was actually Ginny Weasley’s idea. Her brother Bill brought home a girl that he’s sweet on and Ginny wanted to fill her dance card with the worst of the worst because she didn’t want to like her. And then, as it turns out, she is as sweet as honey and I felt horrible about foisting those men on her, so I switched cards and gave her mine.”
Snape was quiet for a moment. “So I was on the unenjoyable dance card?” he asked with no expression to give away his feelings on the matter.
Hermione blushed all the way down her neck.”I’m so sorry, it’s just that Ginny thought she would be intimidated by you, and hence, be uncomfortable. Please forgive her atrocious treatment of you, sir.” She looked down as he said nothing but continued to spin her around the dance floor.
“Mr. Snape?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re actually one of the better dancers I’ve been with this evening,” Hermione ventured. “I just want you to know that.”
“Miss Granger, I really don’t care what you think of my dancing, I’m —” he was cut short.
“Ah, Severus, do you mind if I cut in?” Snape opened up so that Hermione could see who saved, er, interrupted them. It was Lucius Malfoy.
Severus seemed only too relieved to give her over to Lucius. She took his hand and felt him put his other hand on the small of her back. She relaxed and Lucius looked at her.
“Tell me, Miss Granger, how has your evening been going?” Lucius asked with a knowing look.
She looked up at him in surprise. He knows. “I’ve had a better time taking my mathematics exams in school, to be honest.”
Lucius laughed, a rich full-bodied laugh, the kind she had only really heard Mr. Weasley let out. And she started to giggle at the absurdity of it all.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you did not have the optimal partners tonight, with the exception, of course, of Professor Snape.”
“Well, it was supposed to be Miss Delacour’s dance card. But she ended up being delightful, so I couldn’t bear the thought of her dancing with all of those awful boys. And men. So I took it and gave her mine.
“I’ve had an awful evening, and I want to be mad at Ginny as it was her idea after all. I have danced with every gross, too old, too young, horrible dancer that is at the ball tonight. I’ve been stepped on, endured sweaty hands, no conversation or too much.”
Hermione’s feet were aching and her heart was tired. She just wanted to go home.
Lucius looked at her thoughtfully. “That was quite a sacrifice, you know. I must say, I don’t think any of Draco’s friends would have been so charitable,” he said with a tone of admiration.
Hermione blushed. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I hope it was worth it.”
They were quiet for a moment as he waltzed her around the room. She couldn’t help but compare Mr. Malfoy to Arthur Weasley. While she loved Arthur dearly, she thought of him as more of a teddy bear while Lucius was, well, he was certainly handsome and cut a striking, and self-possessed figure. He exuded the poised self-confidence of one born in his station, while Arthur was more of a bumbling ball of enthusiasm. He was free with his praise and support, but had to divide it up between so many children and pretty soon, grandchildren. After what Lucius had just said to her, she felt as if he was in her corner, and that he wouldn’t let her misstep if by some miracle she entered his world for good.
He continued to swing her around the dance floor, and everytime he faced the entrance, he looked past her shoulder. She wondered what he was looking at, but finally decided to enjoy being in the arms of a consummate dancer for once.
At one point, Lucius began to maneuver them towards the large Christmas tree that stood near the entrance. He kept turning her, and it was obvious that something was afoot. Hermione noticed they were traveling a different pattern and grew alarmed as they moved closer to the tree. “Mr. Malfoy, be careful, you don’t want to knock your tree over.”
“Oh, I have no intention of doing that,” he said, as he began to circle behind the tree and to all the other dancers they disappeared.
“Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing?” Before he had time to answer, he was turning her towards someone who had been standing behind the tree. He whispered in her ear, “I think there is someone here you would much rather dance with, my dear. Enjoy and happy Yule.”
Without missing a beat, she was quickly turned and put into the waiting arms of the person standing there and her mouth dropped to the floor.
“What are you doing here?” She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Where did you come from? How did—?” She had no words to finish her question.
Draco took her hand and waist firmly and led her around the other side of the tree.
They came out into the main part of the dance floor. Draco looked down at Hermione and smiled.
“From a dragon, believe it or not,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. “It was nothing short of a miracle."
“But I don’t understand.”
“Shhh, I’ll explain later. Let’s enjoy this dance. Everyone is starting to look at us. It’s better than I’d hoped.”
“You mean you planned this?”
“Well, not exactly. I really did get stuck in Europe but, once I made it back, Father and I planned to surprise you. He told me what you did tonight for Bill’s partner. I can’t believe you sacrificed your ball for someone you don’t even know.”
“Well, I… I just couldn’t let her have the miserable night that Ginny had planned for her,” Hermione said. “It was the right thing to do.”
As they made their way towards the center of the floor, Hermione noticed that no one was dancing. Instead, everyone was watching them in shock. She passed Ginny who was beaming, Blaise winked at her; the twins were visibly excited for her. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were beaming as well and when she saw Narcissa, she was struggling to hold her emotions back.
“Look at me, love,” Draco pulled her back to the present. “I want to look in your beautiful eyes while we dance.”
They continued to dance as if they were the only ones there. And indeed, they were the only pair dancing when the music ended. Not that it mattered to them if there was one couple or one hundred dancing around them. They only had eyes for each other.
Finally the dance ended and the room erupted in cheers and applause. Hermione looked at Draco and then around the room. She couldn’t help but notice Daphne and Pansy, who were looking at her in shock and not the good kind. She looked straight at them with a triumphant expression.
Draco pulled her over towards the table with the champagne and handed her a glass.
“May I have everyone’s attention, please?” Draco tapped a spoon on his glass and the room hushed quickly.
“Thank you so much for attending our little soiree this evening. My apologies for not being here sooner, but I was delayed in Europe and had to find a unique form of transportation to return home.” He raised his glass and looked over at the Weasley clan.
“I would like to thank Charlie Weasley for the use of his dragon to bring Blaise and I safely into the arms of our family and friends. He refused to come into the house given that he had just steered a dragon a thousand miles from Romania.” The crowd started booing, so he continued, “Weasley family, he will be at the Burrow waiting for you and, I hope, taking a well-deserved rest.”
The entire room laughed and agreed that it was probably for the best that he didn’t come in.
“Now that I am back, I…we,” Draco looked at Hermione, whose eyes were shining, “have an announcement to make. I have known this woman for all of my life and I have loved her for more than half of it. We have hidden our feelings and we don’t wish to do that any longer.”
Much to Hermione’s shock, Draco turned to her and dropped to one knee and pulled a ring out of his suit pocket. She put her hands to her face and before she could think to stop them, tears began to fall.
Is this what I think it is?
“Hermione Granger, you mean everything to me and I love you. You are the other half of my heart, more than half of my mind,—” agreement from the crowd at that, “—and all of my soul. I want to love you and live with you and take care of you until the end of my days. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He presented her with the Malfoy emerald that Lucius had retrieved from his vault so many months ago.
Hermione knew what she wanted to say, but words wouldn’t come. She looked around the room and her eyes lighted on Lucius, standing next to Narcissa beaming. He gave her a slight tilt of his head and she knew she had his blessing. Not that she needed it, but it certainly eased the way. She looked back at Draco and took his hands and pulled him up.
“Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!” She held out her shaking hand and he slipped the ring on her finger. It was a bit too big, but it magically resized itself to fit her fourth finger perfectly. Then, she threw her arms around Draco’s neck and he bent to meet her halfway kissing each other as if there was no one else in the room.
“Play some music!” Narcissa hissed at the orchestra. They hastily began playing a lively Yule carol.
“Alright, everyone,” Lucius said to his guests, “one last dance to celebrate all the love that can be felt throughout this room tonight.”
And they did.