Chapter 19
The next morning saw Hermione chewing on her toast in high spirits. Call her crazy – many did – but she was excited to get back to classes after the weekend. As she traced her textbook’s wand movement for animal tissue conjuration with her pointer finger, she heard the thud of a bookbag landing in front of her. Startled, she looked up into Ginny’s flat, worn gaze. She looked like a fire gone out.
“What’s wrong?” Ginny asked.
“Huh?”
“Don’t do that, Hermione…” Ginny said, her head falling into her hands with a resigned thump. “Why have you been avoiding me? Don’t say it’s nothing, we both know it isn’t. Did I do something over Christmas break?”
“What? Of course not!” The words escaped Hermione of their own accord.
“Don’t.” Ginny was smouldering now, her face blank but her eyes trained on Hermione in a way that she was coming to recognise as distinctly Slytherin. She wondered distantly if they had training courses or something.
It really was nothing, though. Except then she remembered everyone else she’d told about her autism. Sue’s easy acceptance, Daphne’s curiosity, Padma’s indignation at the idea of a ‘cure’. It had seemed so easy for them. Why had Ginny had to go and say the exact wrong thing? The silence buzzed and prickled between them as Hermione tried to gauge whether trying to explain was even worth it.
“Hermione, what did I do?” Ginny asked, voice toeing the edge of desperation. And then Hermione was transported back to primary school again. Back to friendships lost without explanation, back to overthinking every interaction for weeks and slowly adjusting to be what she thought other people wanted. Back to always being just a little off, even then. Ginny at least deserved to know.
Hermione sighed, steeling herself for a repeat round of misunderstanding. She would at least try.
“Look, I know this is going to sound stupid, but it’s important to me so I want you to listen,” Hermione said, fidgeting with her bracelet under the table.
Ginny nodded and leaned forward, eyes boring into Hermione’s face. Hermione’s were on Ginny’s left elbow.
“When I told you about my autism, you didn’t respond well.”
“What?”
Hermione spent several seconds trying to put the words in order before giving up and going for it. “You said that I shouldn’t worry, and that no one would think I was disabled or anything. I don’t think you understand… It’s not a bad thing. It’s how I am. And I’ve spent so much time and energy trying to hide it from everyone without even realising that’s what I was doing because people just don’t like me when I’m being myself. But I can’t keep doing that. And I guess you made me feel like that was something I needed to keep doing and I just can’t anymore. I’m so tired, Gin…”
“Wait- this is about the… autism? Hermione, I barely even remember saying that. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“Well, it was,” Hermione snapped. “This is my life, Gin. I’ve had to reprocess my entire life knowing that my brain works differently from other people’s. I thought that I was just horrible and that was why people didn’t like me and why I couldn’t do the things that other people could. And of course you don’t think it’s a big deal – I’ve been bending over backwards trying to not inconvenience you with it!” Hermione felt a pricking behind her eyes and immediately started shoving her things into her bookbag. She was not going to start her week off by crying at breakfast.
“Wait, wait-” Ginny said, clasping Hermione’s hands in her own. It felt like insects crawling under her skin, and Hermione ripped them out of Ginny’s grasp immediately.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t know! I didn’t realise! Just… wait, please. I’ll try to understand.”
I’ll try to understand. Hermione froze, taking one, then two deep breaths. That was all she really wanted, wasn’t it?
Ginny stared down at the empty plate in front of her, eyes looking suspiciously wet. “I… I didn’t think of it like that. I’m sorry, Hermione. Surely that sort of stuff doesn’t completely define you though, right? You’re still smart and brilliant and my best frien-”
“We’re not defined by one thing, Ginny. We’re defined by a whole bunch of things. We’re both witches. We both fought in a war. We were both Gryffindors. All of those define us in different ways. I’m autistic, and yes, in a way it does define me. The same way that being smart and brilliant and your best friend defines me.”
Ginny blinked furiously as she pulled herself together. “Ok, I think I kind of get it now.”
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m sorry. I can see now why all that didn’t go down so well. I just thought… no one wants to be different, you know?”
“I know, but no one wants to spend their life hiding who they really are to fit in either.”
“True,” Ginny sighed. “I’m sorry. Can we be friends again?”
Some dark weight lifted itself from Hermione’s shoulders as she nodded.
“Oh thank Merlin!” Ginny said, throwing her head back. “Please never be mad at me again, that was horrible! I missed you. And your transfiguration notes. Speaking of…”
“Ginevra Weasley! If this was all just a plot to-”
“Of course not! I swear I can do all the practical stuff but you know how McGonagall is – she’ll want ten inches of theory for every bloody mark on that N.E.W.T. paper. It’s inhumane! Oh, speaking of cruel and unusual punishment, is Malfoy really paying you to hang out with him?”
Hermione was saved from answering by a loud crash from a table across the hall.
“I can’t believe you!” Parvati screamed, having leapt out of her seat, “Did I seriously have to find out about this from Davis? I’m your sister! We tell each other everything!” Padma was sitting across from her, outwardly as calm and stoic as ever. Sue, however, looked pale and tiny and terrified.
“Oh yeah! They’re your roommates, right? Did you know about them?” Ginny asked.
“Know what?”
“They’re together! Like together together. Owen McConnel caught them snogging yesterday. Did you know?”
Hermione’s gaping mouth must have been all the answer Ginny needed, as she turned her eyes quickly back to the unfolding scene.
Padma was saying something too quiet for the spectators to hear, but Parvati wasn’t having it.
“What the fuck do you mean you couldn’t? We’re sisters! Sisters don’t keep secrets like that from each other!”
Suddenly, Sue jumped up from the table and honest to God bolted from the hall. Eyes and whispers followed her in a way that Hermione knew all too well and without even thinking she shoved the rest of her things into her bag and ran after her friend.
The problem with this plan was that Sue was fast, Hermione soon realised. Damn quidditch players, she inwardly cursed – not for the first time – as she stopped to catch her breath after the fourth flight of stairs.
“Oi! Wait up!” Daphne’s voice rang out from behind her, breathing sounding just as laboured as Hermione’s.
Hermione sagged in relief. She’d been worried about what she was even going to say to Sue if she ever managed to catch her. Surely Daphne would know how to handle this.
“Hurry up, we’re losing her! We can’t just leave her alone, she hates being alone,” Hermione said.
“Merlin, Hermione, I thought you were the brains of that little trio,” Daphne said as she caught up. Then she placed her wand on a flat palm before uttering a neat “Invenire Sue Li.”
Hermione’s eyes widened as the wand spun to the right.
“Daphne… how…”
“Inventum charm. Comes in handy all the time.”
“That cannot be legal.”
“Well, you’ll never have any proof,” Daphne said, shrugging as she turned to climb the next staircase,
Despite her burning quads, Hermione followed.
“Wait, so they’re… Sue and Padma – they’re together?” she asked, still trying to wrap her head around it.
This stopped Daphne dead in her tracks. She turned her piercing, turquoise gaze to Hermione as her mouth dropped open, foot halfway to the next step. “You didn’t know?”
“What?”
“Merlin’s beard you sweet summer child…”
“Wait? They told you?” Why had they told Daphne and not her?
“No one told me, Hermione. I just have these things in my head that allow me to see what’s going on in front of me. They’re called eyes. I also have these very useful things you may have heard of called ears.”
“For Merlin’s sake, Daphne, you know I’m terrible with this stuff!”
“Oh… right. Sorry.” Daphne visibly shook herself and began to push onwards again. “Did you seriously not notice anything?”
“Well, no. I thought they were just best friends. They sleep in separate beds.”
“No, Sue moves to her separate bed to get dressed after she wakes up at the arse crack of dawn every morning.”
Oh. Had it seriously been that obvious? Was she that oblivious? Now that she had this context, things she hadn’t really given much thought to were making more sense. The secret language the girls seemed to have. Quiet, studious Padma yelling at a Professor when Sue’d gotten hurt. The lack of ‘boy-talk’ leading up to Valentine’s day.
Ok, fine, she was that oblivious.
“Alright, the charm thinks she’s in here,” Daphne said, pointing to the closed door of the transfiguration classroom. “We’ve all got class in here in fifteen minutes, we’ll need to hurry.” Daphne didn’t give Hermione any other warning before she yanked open the door and strode in.
“Sue? Are you alright?” Daphne called into the seemingly empty classroom. She was answered with… silence. And then a choked sob exploded through the room, over-loud from being held in, echoing off the high stone ceilings.
Again, Daphne strode forward unflinchingly. Hermione followed, trying to tread as quietly and be as small as possible. Daphne stopped in front of the pile of books that the wet, choked noises were coming from and crouched down.
“Sue?” she tried again.
“Sue?” Hermione echoed, just trying to show some form of support. If she followed Daphne’s lead, hopefully she wouldn’t put her foot in it.
The pile of books only sobbed harder in response.
“Look, if it helps, I’ve known about you two for ages and it hasn’t made any difference to anything. Anyone who judges you for it can frankly go choke on a toad.”
This did not seem to help, as the pile of books was still sniffling. Hermione gathered all her Gryffindor courage and knelt beside Daphne, trying a different angle.
“Look, you know how the Hogwarts rumour mill is. They’re not going to be bothering you for long. Give it a few days, and it’ll be Slughorn and McGonagall’s secret lovechild they’re talking about next.”
There was a hysterical sounding laugh from behind the books. Hermione was unsure if she could count it as a win or not.
And then… progress. “I’m doomed! My parents! Oh Merlin my parents are going to find out and they’re going to k-kill me!” Sue descended back into her misery as Daphne and Hermione shared a concerned glance.
“Your parents aren’t… supportive?” Hermione asked tentatively, grimacing as she anticipated the backlash.
It came. “Of course they’re not! Have you ever met an immigrant parent?” Here, Sue started to imitate what was presumably her parents’ accent. “No dating! No boys! Only study! Why you get E in Charms? Too much Quidditch! No more til you get O! And then a year after my sister graduated Hogwarts it was why you no married?When you gonna meet nice boy and have grandchildren?”
Hermione glanced over at Daphne and found the other girl staring straight ahead with a pained expression on her face.
“Look,” Daphne said, “usually my advice with that type of parent is to lie low, not rock the boat anywhere they’ll get word of you doing it, and live your life as best you can when they’re not looking. But I get the feeling that marrying a bloke to keep them off your tail isn’t an option you’d consider.”
Sue didn’t even justify the answer with a response.
“What you need to do,” Daphne continued, “is figure out how much this is worth to you. Is Padma your forever-person? Would you choose her even if it meant losing your family?”
Before Sue could respond, the door was flung open and Padma stormed in, followed closely by a pale-looking Parvati.
“Sue?” Padma asked gently, crouching down beside Hermione and Daphne, “are you alright?”
The sound Sue made was almost a wail, and Hermione felt absolutely useless.
Padma then – very bravely in Hermione’s opinion – rounded the stack of books and bent down, presumably to give Sue some sort of hug. Sue only cried harder, nearly blocking out Padma’s quiet attempts to comfort her.
“Come on, honey, we’ve only got a few minutes before class starts, and we’re skipping.”
“We c-can’t skip, I’m failing transfiguration!”
“Sue, sweetheart… you are in no state to make any academic progress right now. And you are not failing, you’ve been getting E’s all year.”
“Noo…” Sue protested weakly. “I n-need to study. My parents are already gonna hate me for-”
“We can study together later, honey. Right now you need copious amounts of chocolate and a nap and that is non-negotiable. Come on.” Padma’s torso appeared above the pile, her hand held out towards Sue. After a beat Sue took it and emerged, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks damp, above the books.
Padma led her by the hand out of the classroom, picking up her forgotten bookbag on the way. The glare she sent her sister on the way out was deadlier than Hermione had thought the girl could possibly be capable of, and Parvati shrank back towards the wall to let them pass.
They were just in time, as McGonagall strode into the room a few seconds of awkward silence later. Hermione and Daphne took their usual seats and Hermione spent the next hour trying very hard to concentrate.
She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what was going to happen to her roommates now, though. Her roommates who were her friends, who had so easily accepted her, who had helped her so much this year just by being the people they were. She remembered the plush dragon and the note Sue had put in her bed and spent half the lesson trying to surreptitiously transfigure a pocket-pack of tissues into a toy niffler under the table. Sue had whined to Padma about wanting a niffler several times, and each time Padma – in her endless patience – had explained the multitude of problems that would cause.
She couldn’t unform the new connections in her brain, either. The problems she’d been trying so hard not to think about all came bubbling to the surface after seeing what being found out had done to Sue.
Would you choose her even if it meant losing your family?
Hermione may have already lost her parents – silently, she said a tiny prayer to whatever god was listening that she hadn’t – but she hadn’t yet lost Harry and Ron. They’d kept in contact despite how packed all of their schedules were, and reading their letters about auror training and the Ministry kept Hermione grounded, reminded her that beyond the Hogwarts walls, beyond N.E.W.T.s, she had people who had stuck by her through everything, would stick by her through everything.
Would they?
Hermione’s wand twitched and her niffler’s head began to swell before she quickly cancelled the charm.
Could Harry and Ron really accept her relationship with Draco? What about the rest of the Weasleys? Even if she had Ginny back now, would it all come crashing down when she found out Hermione was involved with an ex-Death Eater? She resisted the urge to turn around and look at Draco with all her might. He sat right at the back and it would be too obvious. She had to think about these things. Always had to be thinking about these things. It wasn’t fair.
Her heart ached for Sue and Padma. They always had to be thinking about these things too. Maybe they always would. It wasn’t fair at all.
Luckily, the next week or so proved Hermione right – the stares and whispers died out quickly enough. A very fragile Sue had sobbed with joy over her new niffler toy and Hermione, Sue and Padma had started a regular transfiguration study group, which even Ginny started showing up to on occasion. Still, it wasn’t until Hermione had a rare moment alone in the library with Padma that she gathered the courage to ask how she was.
Padma attempted a smile – which turned into more of a grimace – as she shrugged off the question. “I’m fine, really. I’ve dealt with Parvati’s nonsense and my parents were always going to be accepting. I’ve owled them now and they’re fine with everything. They’ve loved Sue since we became friends. Sue’s family is the real problem. It’s the only reason I didn’t come out earlier.”
“So, do they know yet?”
“No. We’re hoping that nothing gets to them before the Cup. Sue’s convinced they’ll ban her from Quidditch. They’ve done it before… It should be fine though, surely. It’s not like students write home with every bit of gossip they hear.”
“And after that?”
“We’ve got plans. And back-up plans. My parents have already offered Sue a place to stay if she needs it.”
“Wait- they’d seriously kick her out?”
Padma looked into her eyes forlornly and Hermione had to drop her gaze. “Not everyone gets as lucky as we do, Hermione. Not everyone grows up being loved and accepted.”
Hermione’s mind turned to the Dursleys, then to Lucius Malfoy. She missed her parents more than ever.
“It is nice being out, though. As hard as it is for Sue, it’s taken some of the weight off her shoulders. We don’t need to bother finding pretend dates to go to the ball with now.”
Hermione’s heart sank at the mention of the Easter ball. Ostensibly another attempt at ‘house unity’ on behalf of the professors, although Hermione suspected it was more to raise the morale of the traumatised student body before exams started in earnest. Hermione was determined to spend it in her room studying and pretending very hard that she didn’t want anything to do with it. Daphne had other plans.
“Speaking of,” Padma continued, “I was wondering – and you can absolutely say no if you want to – but, could you do me a favour?”
Hermione perked up. “A favour?” Perhaps this would give her the excuse she needed to ditch.
“Yeah, I’ve already spoken to Daphne about it and she’s enthusiastic but umm… would you like to go with Daphne? We’re trying to set up a few same-sex couples as a solidarity thing. Obviously, you two would just be going as friends and all but… I think it would be helpful for Sue and Daphne seemed to think you’d be grateful to avoid all the drama that comes with trying to find a date to these things so…”
Hermione couldn’t help the quickening of her heartbeat at the idea. It was brilliant. “Yes!” she said, voice too loud in the quiet of the library. “Sorry- yes, absolutely. That’s a great idea! That was most of the reason I was planning on skipping anyway. Daphne’s been giving me so much grief over a missed opportunity to dress me up and parade me around…”
Padma laughed at this, open and easy. “Yeah, the most painless way out of that might be straight through, unfortunately.”
Hermione let out a sigh, heavy with pretence, as warmth bubbled through to her fingers and toes. She might actually be looking forward to this.
***
Well, maybe not every aspect of it, Hermione realised as Daphne stabbed her in the eye once again with the tiny black pencil. Daphne swore under her breath as she erased the mess with her wand and held up the small torture device to try again.
“It’s fine it’s fine! We can just do mascara, surely!” Hermione cried out, getting desperate at this point.
“Quiet, Granger! You don’t understand my vision. Now stay still…”
“Well my vision’s going to be permanently damaged if you keep this up-”
Sue’s laughter rang out from across the room where she was placing a small black dot in the middle of Padma’s forehead.
“It does look quite nice so far,” Padma commented. “Trust the process, Hermione.”
Inwardly grumbling, she surrendered to Daphne’s ministrations.
No sooner than twenty minutes later, Daphne was satisfied with Hermione’s face. She had been left to last on account of her hair routine taking almost an hour. As much of a hassle as it was, Hermione had to admit it might be worth it as she took stock of herself in the mirror. It was just like the first time. Her hair looked nice, but it looked like hers. Just without as much wild, rebellious frizz. She almost protested when Daphne pulled it up into a loose bun at the nape of her neck.
“Right, now that’s finished, time to get sloshed!” Daphne said with glee as she pulled a familiar looking bottle of vodka out of her trunk.
“Where are you getting this stuff, Daph? It’s not exactly butterbeer…” Hermione asked.
“Ask no secrets and I shall tell no lies. Not drinking, Padma?” Daphne asked as she conjured three shot glasses.
“No thank you,” Padma said, “Someone has to take care of you lot tonight.”
“I’ll have some! I’ll need all the liquid courage I can get…” Sue said, eyes looking a bit dark as she plodded over to sit on Daphne’s bed.
Padma followed her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she said, “It’s going to be fine, honey. Everyone knows now. And we’ve got a whole lot of support around us. Hermione and Daphne. Dean and Seamus. Ginny and Luna. Daph even got Malfoy to go with Theo Nott. No one will be paying any attention to us.”
“I guess…” Sue said, looking very small as Daphne handed her a shot.
“Padma’s right, Sue. No one’s going to give you any grief,” she said. “And if they do, just let me know. I have connections that could make people’s lives rather miserable if I required it.”
Sue smiled weakly and downed her shot. Daphne and Hermione followed suit.
“Right!” Daphne said, clapping her manicured hands, “I know what’ll cheer you up, Sue. Dresses!”
This seemed to work, as Sue jumped up from the bed to finally change from her dressing gown into her sleek, red floor-length gown which matched her lipstick and hairpiece perfectly. To Hermione’s utter lack of surprise, Daphne had coordinated everyone’s make-up and accessories to match their dresses expertly. Padma – always the most organised – was already in her crimson and gold lehenga, and was presently donning some large, dangly gold earrings.
Hermione took one more shot before heading into the bathroom with her dress to get changed. It was an absolute puzzle of a thing to get on, but she had loved in the moment she put it on during the Hogsmeade shopping trip Daphne had dragged them all to. The dark navy fabric was soft enough on her skin that she could probably wear it to bed, but above it were layers and layers of sheer, jewel studded fabric that made her look like the night sky. Looking into the mirror and smoothing the dress down, she finally saw Daphne’s ‘vision’ come to life.
She’d never thought of her eyes as particularly impressive before – never thought of any part of herself as particularly impressive before – but Daphne had skilfully shaped them into something bright and alive. Her skin looked miraculously smooth, and her eyeshadow sparkled in time with her dress. Her updo allowed her curls to still be curls, and was studded with tiny white twinkling crystals.
Taking it all in, she was transported back years. To a floaty, periwinkle blue dress. To painful shoes and anxiety and disbelief that someone – let alone Viktor Krum – had asked her out. She had spent hours smoothing her hair into something sleek and manageable. She’d felt happy, like she was playing with a doll she’d never been allowed to touch before. But this was different. She wasn’t playing anymore. This time, she was just her.
At Daphne’s request, she gave the bathroom up and went to put on her relatively comfortable shoes. She didn’t see the point being distracted by the pinching all night for a few extra inches.
Daphne came out in a form-fitting silver dress studded with what must have been thousands of tiny gems. Her smooth leg peaked out through a courageously high slit, drawing attention to the matching strappy heels that tied halfway up her calves.
And then they were doing one more shot – with Daphne transferring the rest of the bottle into flasks she had transfigured to look like small clutches – and they were on their way down to the Great Hall. Sue seemed to have lost her nervousness and was now hanging onto Padma’s arm and giggling happily. Padma kissed her on the cheek and Hermione, starting to feel a bit buzzed already, was nearly overwhelmed by how happy for these people she was. They had been so, so good to her. She could only hope that the world would be good to them.
They were late, on account of both Daphne’s ‘art’ and their pre-drinking, and so when they walked into the Great Hall the party was in full swing already. The cavernous room was decorated top to bottom with springtime leaves and flowers, and the small round tables surrounding the dance floor were shadowed by soft branches of willow. Live – or more likely, transfigured – birds darted in between the hundreds of floating candles, their chirping blending harmoniously with the lively sounds of harps and flutes and laughter.
As nice as it was, Hermione immediately reached for her bracelet, dimming the noise as she followed Padma to an empty table. Unable to help herself, she craned her neck to look for Draco. It didn’t take her long, given the shine of his hair in the low light.
He was standing with Theo, sipping at a cocktail glass of punch and… oh Merlin. He was wearing a suit. Not dress robes like Theo, a genuine – and impeccably fitted – muggle suit. The steel-grey fabric stretched across his shoulders in a way that had Hermione snapping her eyes back to the table, afraid she might actually start drooling. Oh god oh god oh god…
“-mione! Earth to Hermione!” Sue said, waving a hand in front of her face as she bounced in her seat. “Do you wanna come with us or not?”
“Huh?”
“Dancing! C’mon, we can all go together!”
Hermione, very aware of what would happen to her coordination anywhere in the vicinity of Draco in a muggle suit, fended Sue off with the excuse of needing a bit more alcohol first. She punctuated the half-truth with a swig from her ‘clutch’, face screwing up as the petrol taste hit her.
“We’ll join you later, Sue! Promise!” Daphne said, with something in her tone that Hermione didn’t quite understand but was very wary of.
Truthfully, Hermione was already feeling a bit dizzy and smiley from the shots they’d done. But not nearly drunk enough to face-
“Granger,” said Draco, who’d materialised in front of her, Theo trailing behind and staring open-mouthed at Daphne. “You look lovely.” Hermione knew she needed to respond, but all she could focus on now was the shade of his tie. Dark navy blue. Of course Daphne would have bloody colour coordinated them.
“Malfoy,” she finally managed.
“Would you care to dance?” he asked, the words sounding ridiculously at home in his upper-class accent.
Hermione – in contrast – spluttered rather inelegantly before being shoved out of her chair by the absolute menace next to her. She would have fallen if Draco hadn’t been there to catch her and pull her up. He fixed a cutting glare on Daphne but she only grinned back, waving them off with a, “have fun!” Hermione accepted her fate.
“I hope you don’t mind me stealing your date, Daphne.”
“Not at all, Draco.”
“I do feel rather bad leaving mine alone, though. You don’t think you could accompany Theo for a while, do you?”
The smug look fell from Daphne’s face immediately, her eyes snapping to the manically waving Theo. Hermione laughed as she was pulled away, leaving her traitorous friend to the consequences of her actions.
The alcohol must have really kicked in now, because Hermione found herself miraculously capable of speech.
“So, you and Theo, huh?” she joked.
“Oh yes, he’s quite the charmer.”
“Thank you,” she said, seriously this time, “I didn’t think you’d actually agree to it. It’s really helping Sue.”
“Well, it’s not like I have much of an image to keep up anymore. I would have done it even if Daphne hadn’t threatened to put hair removal cream in my shampoo again,” he said as he pulled her into the throng of waltzing couples in the centre of the hall. Hermione was vaguely aware of the eyes on them, but too pleasantly tipsy to care all that much.
“Again!?”
“I’d rather not ruin the mood by recounting such a traumatic event.” Hermione laughed as he twirled her around before placing a warm, sure hand on her waist. Her heartbeat quickened as she fell into the familiar steps of the waltz.
“You poor thing. You’re so brave to risk her ire.” Despite the joke, Draco’s eyes turned serious at this, staring into hers with an intensity that was all too familiar, and absolutely no less arousing for it.
“I’ve been a lot braver lately. It was you who taught me how important that was. I never really made the connection – I thought you were unstoppable because you were you, and part of it was that, is that, but part of it is that you just do things, whether you’re scared or not.”
Hermione missed a step, narrowly avoiding Draco’s toes as she stumbled. After a bit of swearing, she plucked up her Gryffindor courage. Or the vodka did. Either way –
“I’m not sure you’d approve of all the very brave things I want to do to you right now.”
It was Draco’s turn to splutter inelegantly. Hermione grinned, but internally she was melting. She loved seeing him like this, open and unmasked. It was something so few people got to see. She was becoming dangerously preoccupied with unravelling him in every way that she could. She was so greedy for him, so fascinated by the way his eyelashes curled and his mouth quirked higher on the right than the left when he really smiled.
“Merlin, Granger, we’re in public.”
“See, that’s why it would be brave.”
Draco twirled her again, and Hermione’s head span with the rest of her as she laughed out the tension. She felt so light, so fuzzy. With Draco’s hands and eyes on her she could almost imagine that this was for real. That they were in some alternate universe where he had asked her to a ball and they had walked in hand in hand without any fear of onlookers or speculation.
“Speaking of bravery,” he said, pulling her closer than the dance really demanded to mutter in her ear, “we have an audience – a red-headed one – just so you know.”
Hermione’s heart sank. The illusion shattered. She willed her head back down from the clouds so she could focus her eyes on her surroundings and there – when she turned again – was Ginny staring intently at them, an almost calculating look in her eyes. Hermione suddenly felt dizzy for reasons that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
Draco noticed. Draco always noticed. “Do you want to go back to the table?” he asked.
Did she? As they continued their circling, she caught sight of Theo and Daphne. Daphne was – laughing? Yes, definitely laughing at something a grinning Theo had said. Her chest twisted strangely as she was whirled away, but the image stayed burned into her mind. The more she looked around, the more it was overlaid with other images just the same. Happy couples. Unproblematic couples. Couples staring into each other’s eyes like there was no one else in the room. Like she might have been looking at Draco before reality had caught up to her and dragged her back down into its depths.
But then she caught a glimpse of something different. Two girls in gleaming red, clinging to each other as they beamed and laughed and twirled, ignoring all rules of rhythm and cadence. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, staring, overwhelmed by the weight of it. Beyond that weight there was ease, she knew it. It was spinning around in front of her, so close she could almost feel it seeping into her skin.
“-mione, are you alright?” Draco said as he pulled her gently out of the crowd. “Do you need-”
“Piss off, ferret-face!” Ginny’s voice scraped at Hermione’s ears as Draco’s hands were wrenched from her. “What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything, Weasley,” Draco replied, malice barely held back through gritted teeth. “I was just asking her if she needed any wat-”
“Well, I’ve got her now. You can run along back to your actual date,” Ginny said, placing a protective hand on Hermione’s shoulder.
Draco’s eyes were a raging storm, but as Hermione caught them she shook her head, just slightly. It could have been a twitch.
“I’ll leave her in your capable hands, then,” Draco said, bowing his head towards Ginny in a well-practiced performance of detached composure. Hermione’s heart sank into her feet as she watched him go, leaving her to the wolves.
“What is his problem? Why does he keep cornering you? What’s going on, Hermione?” Ginny asked as she pulled Hermione back to her table where they joined Luna, staring absently into space as she sipped at her punch.
“There’s no problem,” Hermione managed to squeak out, feeling very small and out of place, like her secret was some glaring neon sign above her head that everyone was just ignoring to be polite.
“Hermione,” Ginny said, sternly, looking more Slytherin than ever in her form-fitting forest green gown, “I’m not doing this again. I only just got you back. No more bullshit, please.”
Hermione writhed in her seat under Ginny’s piercing gaze. “Ok, fine. But don’t be mad,” Hermione said. Ginny’s eyes widened and she leaned forward. Hermione couldn’t be that brave, though. Not yet. Not alone. “We’re friends.”
“What?” Derision. Disbelief. Disdain.
“We’re friends,” Hermione repeated, feigning ignorance about what that question really meant. Ginny sat back in her seat, staring at Hermione with an open mouth and furrowed brow.
“You’re friends with Draco Malfoy?”
Hermione nodded, praying that the time they’d spent apart would soften Ginny enough for her to give Hermione some grace.
“Ok, let me get this absolutely straight. You’re friends with Draco Malfoy – the smarmy git who bullied Harry and you along with half the student body for our entire time at Hogwarts and then swore his allegiance to Voldemort and actively fought for muggle enslavement during the war?”
Hermione shrank back. “Gin, that really isn’t… I’m not…”
“He’s the reason Dumbledore is dead, Hermione.”
“Well, technically-”
“I don’t care about technically, Hermione! He let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts! He is a Death Eater!”
“Was a Death Eater.” Hermione felt her courage – or was it anger? – spike at last. “He’s changed. He seriously has, Gin.”
Ginny scoffed. “And what has he done to convince you of that? Think, Hermione. He knew what the Ministry was going to do to his family. He knew how society was going to see him after the war. So what does he do? Slither into the good graces of Hermione Granger. I thought you were supposed to be smar-”
“Oh, shut up!” Hermione erupted. “I am smart! Do you really think I’d fall for something like that? If you want evidence, he’s the only one that’s even attempted to help me get my parents’ memories back. Even Flitwick thought it was a lost cause!”
Ginny’s face contorted in pity. “Oh, Hermione… I’m so sorry about your parents, I really am. But I need to know – for your safety – what are you letting him do to you?”
Hermione’s world tilted and span around her, the fuzz of alcohol in her veins combining with the thumping of her heart to make everything bigger, brighter, louder. Then Luna’s airy voice swept through her like a cool breeze. “Malfoy certainly does seem different this year. Haven't you noticed?”
Hermione forced her gaze to focus on the girl in shimmering cyan, eyes wide and eery as always.
“What do you mean? And please, Luna, don’t start on about the wrackspurts again,” Ginny said.
“Well… his infection is looking much better. But besides that, he hasn’t been at all like his old self.”
“Hasn’t he? Still walks around like he owns the bloody place. Still finds ways to manipulate people into get-”
“Be careful, Ginny, the nargles have got you. Take a deep beath.”
Ginny, despite the reddening of her face and flare of her nostrils, leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, and breathed. She’d always had more patience for Luna than most. Hermione had never been more grateful for their friendship.
“Don’t worry, Hermione, I believe you,” Luna said, smiling softly. A fraction of the tension in Hermione’s shoulders eased. Ginny stayed silent. Hermione took her chance.
“Sorry Gin, Luna… but I’ve got to get back to Daphne.”
“I’ll walk you back,” Ginny said, pushing herself hastily to her feet.
“There’s no need. You should stay with Lu-”
“Nonsense, I’ve barely even spoken to my best friend’s date.”
“She’s nice. It’s not like she’s an ex-Death Eater or anything.”
“She is a pureblood, though.”
“Ginevra Weasley! Have you not learnt anything from this whole resorting debacle?” And at that, Hermione stormed off, Luna waving contently and Ginny frozen in place.
She spent the next hour alternating between dancing with her roommates, catching her breath with them at their table, and taking increasingly more clumsy swigs from her ‘clutch’. Sue, by this point, was sloshed, face flushed permanently red and dissolving into laughter any time Padma so much as breathed in her direction. In the distance, Hermione caught sight of Draco and Theo in some sort of subtle altercation over whose hand belonged on whose waist. In the joy of it all, she forgot to even worry about who was watching.
After another round with Daphne, Hermione subtly – she hoped – bumped into Theo and Draco, both of whom looked relieved at the excuse to be rid of each other.
“S-Sorry…” she managed through her laughter.
“Not at all,” Draco said smoothly, “I hope you don’t mind, Theo.”
“Absolutely not,” Theo said, almost running over to Daphne before someone else swept her up.
Draco pulled her easily into the dance. Hermione was clumsier now, leaning into him as he led her around in dizzying spirals, bobbing her head and furrowing her brow as she tried to keep up with the regular one… two-three one… two-three one… two-three.
Draco laughed then. Genuinely laughed. And Hermione almost lost control entirely. How dare he walk around being this damn attractive when she wasn’t even allowed to kiss him about it?
“How much have you had to drink, Hermione?”
“Erm…” was all she managed. The sheepish darting of her eyes probably said enough, though.
“You should sit down,” he said.
“What we should do is go back to our dormitory. Remember all those things I said I’d like to do to you?”
“Merlin, Hermione…”
“Please,” she whined. “I have a headache –” she didn’t, “– I’ve heard lying down is very good for headaches…”
“Merlin’s beard, Hermione, what am I supposed to do with you?” Draco said, cheeks flushing steadily pinker. The bastard even blushed prettily.
“I have some ideas. They’re not exactly appropriate for a ballroom, though. We really should-”
And then Draco was dragging her by the hand through the crowd. Hermione went happily, pulled along by tide of him, relishing in the possessive grip of his hand on hers.
The noise of the party fell away as they emerged into the entrance hall, and Hermione shivered as the evening breeze caressed her skin. A few rouge hummingbirds continued their songs, unseen in the high ceilings as Draco led her down toward the dungeons.
“Where are we going?” she asked, struggling to keep up. Draco didn’t answer, just pulled her onwards and downwards, stony and tense and impatient.
Eventually, they reached a crimson red tapestry which Draco pulled aside before slipping them both into a tiny alcove.
And then he was all over her. Hands and mouth and body. Pushing her against the stone as he took what he wanted. Hermione sank into it like a warm bath. Like an itch finally scratched. She grabbed his hair to pull him closer, and he moaned at the tug of it. Heat bloomed in Hermione’s abdomen as he trailed his fingers over the back of her neck, down her shoulder, her arm, her lower back…
And then, ice.
Hermione fell right through it, heart stopping as she heard the crack of the tapestry pulled aside. Ginny stood there like a fire, flickering even in shock and stillness, accusatory wand aloft. Hermione was sinking, the cold overcoming her. All she could do was hold on to the warmth of Draco beside her and stare numbly at the end ahead.
After a second, a minute, an eternity, Ginny lowered her wand. Her mouth closed but her eyes burned and bit at Hermione as she turned to leave, heels clicking a steady beat into the stone as she walked away.