AN: This is my very first attempt at fanfiction, so please don't expect anything mind blowing. Just something rattling around in my head that I felt I needed to put down on metaphorical paper. Please feel free to be as critical as possible, because I'm only going to get better from here.

DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns the world of Harry Potter and its characters. Anything resembling her work belongs to her.

Hermione walked into the room with her hand draped through the crook of her best friend's arm. Harry felt the slight tightening of her hand indicating her nerves and flashed her a quick smile for reassurance. Ginny had her arm looped through Harry's on his other side. The effect of two girls hanging on both of his arms made Harry look every bit the celebrity he was. Oddly enough, it was the first time Hermione had ever seen him look the part, as he was so intent to avoid the limelight and always be humble about his achievements. She knew that in reality he just wanted a normal life, but unfortunately, that had been impossible for Harry since he was one year old.

She looked around the room and asked herself again why she let them drag her to this asinine pageantry that the ministry called their annual ball. In true cliche fashion, this year they decided it would be a masquerade ball, which was most likely the only reason Hermione had even let Harry and Ginny talk her into joining them. She, like Harry, often tried to downplay her part in the war and hated going to social events, especially since she and Ron decided to go their separate ways.

It had worked for them for a while, most likely because Hermione was away at school and the majority of their relationship had taken place long distance, but once they had tried to move in together, everything fell apart. It was clear that, though they loved each other very much, they would never be compatible for life. Fortunately, they were able to have an amicable break-up, though they were still finding it difficult to get back to just friends. She was hopeful that they would get there eventually. After all, it had only been about five months.

Harry guided both her and Ginny to the right where the Minister was greeting his guests. Kingsley welcomed all three of them warmly, but they quickly moved on to let him address the people entering behind them. They saw him often enough that they would be able to catch up with him later.

Hermione began to take in the guests dispersed throughout the ballroom. Of course, it was impossible to recognize anyone with all the masks, but she knew it was made up of the usual variety. Every year the ministry invited all of its employees and their guests in addition to the benefactors of the ministry and other prominent figures in the wizarding community. Hermione did not try to delude herself into thinking that she, Harry, and Ron had simply been invited as employees of the ministry.

Hermione had returned to Hogwarts the year after Voldemort's defeat to finish her seventh year, while Ron and Harry immediately began training as junior aurors. After graduating, Hermione began working for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as the assistant to the department head, a job which she had been doing for the past ten months. She liked to think she got the position because of her strong performance at school, graduating as head girl and at the top of her class, but in reality it was most likely because of her feats during the war. She couldn't complain, though. She was in a position she felt allowed her to use her skills effectively and would eventually lead to a position with the power to make the changes she wanted to see in the still struggling community.

She removed her hand from Harry's comforting arm and nervously smoothed the wrinkle-free fabric of her gown. Ginny had somehow miraculously found the perfect gown just hours ago when Hermione finally relented to their incessant nagging. She suspected that Ginny had the dress on hand for when Hermione eventually gave in. The dress was a full ball gown that fit her snuggly at the bust and waist all the way down to her hips where it flared into a cascade of fabrics. She was thankful that Ginny had chosen a relatively understated dress. The skirt didn't flare out nearly as much as it could have and the only embellishments were a thin line of beading around the neckline and seams. The red color was a bit much for Hermione, but she had to take what she got. She stopped patting the satiny fabric at her hip and looked up at Harry again. He was looking at her and holding back a small chuckle.

Her nerves disappeared.

"Don't you dare laugh at me or I'll turn right around," she spat at him furiously.

"Sorry, Hermione. It's just fun to see you flustered for once," he answered honestly, doing his best to control his expression and failing.

"Remind me again why I let you talk me into this," she huffed.

"Because it's been five months and you still need to get over Ron," Ginny offered with a hint of impatience.

"I am over Ron. I don't understand why going to a ball will help." Hermione glared at the other woman.

"Fine. You're over Ron. But you've done your best to avoid all other men in the meantime," Ginny gave Hermione a knowing look.

Ginny was right, in a way. Hermione was actively not dating at the moment. Partially because she wasn't ready to deal with a relationship at the moment and partially because of her aversion to all social events.

"That's not true," Hermione smiled. "I spend lots of time with Harry."

Hermione patted Harry's shoulder while Ginny rolled her eyes and gave Hermione a look that clearly said "you know what I mean."

"You know I don't like going out. I hate the attention." Hermione only shared her second line of logic with the redhead. Harry had evidently lost interest in what he had deemed "girl talk" and had moved on to greet a group of aurors standing to their left.

"That's why we're at a masquerade. No one has to know it's you. And I swear to Merlin, if you don't at least dance with one random guy tonight, I'm deciding you're a lost cause."

Hermione frowned at Ginny. She knew she was right. She had no reason to be nervous since no one had to know who she was. Between the ornate mask and the intricate up-do Ginny had spent hours taming, Hermione was barely recognizable, even to herself. The only thing that could possibly give her away was her voice, and she was certain only her friends would be able to recognize it so immediately.

She sighed in defeat. "You're right, Ginny. But I want you to promise that you'll deem me a lost cause after this," she smiled playfully at her friend.

Ginny squeezed her hand and said "Promise," before she walked over to join her boyfriend who was in the middle of what was most likely another boring conversation about work.

Left to her own devices, Hermione started feeling the thrill of anonymity pulsing through her. She was by no means a cowardly person, but something about the lack of consequence made her feel …. reckless. She smiled privately to herself. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad after all.

Draco turned to Blaise who was gazing out at the crowd, taking in the scene.

"I swear, if I have to talk to one more imbecilic bureaucrat about how wonderful the new ministry is doing, I'll hex myself."

Blaise looked over and frowned at him as Draco took a sip of firewhiskey from his glass.

"You say that as if you expected something different," Blaise drawled.

Draco scowled and followed Blaise's previous line of sight towards the crowd. The two men stood in a corner of the room, trying to take a breather from the constant socializing. Draco had charmed his hair a rich dark brown, so dark it was almost black, hoping to avoid unpleasant looks from the people who still held ill-will towards him and his family, though he introduced himself truthfully to the necessary people.

In the years following the war, Draco had tried to repent for the actions of his family by donating money to the ministry and war relief efforts and by volunteering his time to help capture other Death Eaters. He was given a small position with the ministry to help their efforts in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which meant he worked uncomfortably close to Potter and Weasley. He hated the annual ball. It reminded him too much of the parties his mother used to throw and he hated making frivolous smalltalk with people who clearly would rather not be talking to a former Death Eater.

Draco downed the rest of his glass and set it on the table behind him. When he looked back up, he noticed a flash of red across the room near the entrance stairs. He was floored as he took in the woman in the vibrant red dress and the white beaded mask. Of course, the mask meant he had no idea who the woman was. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The dress accentuated her feminine shape. Her hair was an awe inspiring shade of brown, or rather many shades that morphed in the candlelight changing from brown to red to gold with each flicker, elegantly placed in delicate curls behind her head. Though he couldn't see her face fully, what he could make out were soft features and full, pink lips.

He watched as another man approached the woman, lifted her hand, and kissed it. The moment of surprise on her face led Draco to believe that she did not know the man and that he was most likely asking her to dance. His suspicion was confirmed when she delicately nodded her head and let the other man lead her out to the dance floor.

Draco turned, ire for his unknown foe coursing through him, and headed back to the bar.

Hermione was once again trying to take in the room. There was such a flurry of movement and color that it was hard to concentrate on anything.

Moments after Ginny left her side she heard a subtle throat clearing to her right. She turned to the tall man next to her who reached for her hand and kissed it. She couldn't contain her surprise at the swift action and it spread across her face.

"May I have this dance?" the stranger asked with quite a bit of charm.

The recklessness that had somehow taken over Hermione in the last few minutes didn't even let her think through the request. She nodded and let him lead her by the hand still held in his grip out to the dance floor.

He didn't try to talk to her, just led her through the dance, occasionally catching her eye, which suited her fine. This really wasn't so bad. At the end of the dance, the stranger offered to get her a drink. Hermione declined and made her excuses, wanting to see where her newfound recklessness led her next.

She decided she did actually need a drink and made for the bar at the far side of the room. As she neared the secluded section of the ballroom, she noticed the dark-haired man leaning on the bar as he chatted to the bartender. He was dressed in a fitted black suit with a black mask, the only color a pop of silver from the pocket square in his breast pocket and in the beading of his mask. His skin was pale which contrasted sharply with the darkness of his hair and his suit. For a moment she was reminded of Draco Malfoy, but shook the thought of the blonde-haired prat from her head, wanting to enjoy her evening and not think of useless ferrets.

As she moved even closer, something about the dark stranger seemed to scream danger to her. His effortless nonchalance and immaculate appearance warned her that this was a man who was good at charming people. If anything the warning bells in her head seemed to encourage the recklessness that had decided to be her companion tonight. Maybe it was the two years of danger-free, comfortable predictability after seven years of adversity and struggles that had made her yearn for the danger. She'd be lying if she said that she didn't miss the adrenaline pumping through her system. She felt the stirrings of that same adrenaline as she approached the dark stranger. She decided it was exactly what she needed.

Hermione ignored him at first, walking straight up to the bar and catching the bartender's attention as she ordered a glass of mead. She felt the man's eyes on her as she waited for the bartender to prepare her drink, keeping her gaze focused on the bartenders adept movements. She thanked him warmly as she took the glass from him and took a sip before turning to the man on her right. He was still staring right at her, his grey eyes intense in their appraisal. She knew he was taking her in and calculating what to do.

After a few seconds, his expression changed to a dazzling smile, definitely intended to charm, and relaxed even more into his lean on the bar.

"Firewhiskey, please," he said to the bartender, his eyes still trained on Hermione.

Neither of them said anything while the bartender prepared the man's drink. As Hermione stared at him, she couldn't help the feeling of familiarity, though she wasn't able to place his features to anyone she knew. Once the man had a drink in his hand, he took a sip and broke the silence.

"What brings you here this evening?" he asked, that silky charm she expected dripping from every word.

"I'm here as a guest," she offered with a smile. It wasn't completely a lie.

"And your date abandoned you? I can assure you, he's an idiot and not worth your time if that's the case."

She blushed from the compliment as she offered her explanation.

"He's a friend, and I'm pretty sure he is very much in love with another woman. I came for the …. entertainment," Hermione replied with an amused expression. She enjoyed how much the truth made her sound coy. She'd never been this brazen when it came to flirting and she was surprised how fun she found it.

"Well I can't have a beautiful woman left all alone at a ball. It goes against everything I've been taught. Allow me to have the next dance?"

The man pushed away from the bar and held out his hand when he made his offer. His confidence and poise completely disarming Hermione. She blinked quickly and then set down her barely touched glass as she placed her hand in his. He immediately raised it to his lips and placed the softest of kisses against her knuckles. The act was much more intimate than the one she had received earlier that evening and sent a shiver down her spine. His eyes flashed briefly at her momentary tremble before he turned to lead them out to the dance floor.

Draco was shocked how easy it was to get the mysterious woman on the dance floor. He never expected her to walk right up to him and express her datelessness. If he believed in such a thing he might have called it fate.

As he spun her into his arms and placed his hand on her lower back, he met her eyes. She was even more beautiful up close. He realized now that her eyes were a beautiful shade of light brown, warm and full of life. Something about her eyes reminded him of someone but he couldn't place it.

He started moving them gracefully along with the music, weaving in and out of the other couples. She followed his lead effortlessly. She was looking at the other couples around them, but Draco wanted her attention on him, so he could see her warm eyes again. And Draco was a self-acknowledged selfish prat who always got what he wanted.

"How's the entertainment?" he asked her flippantly.

"What?" she said dreamily as her face snapped back to his.

Draco smiled in triumph.

"You mentioned you were here for the entertainment. I was only inquiring if it was satisfactory," he explained.

She let out a small giggle before she answered.

"Oh, I'm very entertained, thank you." She flashed him a big smile and his heart almost stopped. He'd never been this affected by a woman before. Maybe it was her mystery that made her so alluring. Maybe if he solved the mystery, he would be less captivated.

"Who are you?" he asked suddenly.

"Who are you?" she asked him, slightly annoyed.

Draco was not ready to answer her question. If this woman was one of those who still hated his family, she would leave as soon as the words were out of his mouth, perhaps with a stomp of her foot on his for good measure. And he wasn't ready to let go of her just yet. He pulled her tighter as if she was already about to run away from him. When neither of them answered, she smiled again.

"It seems we both have something to hide tonight," the woman said, apparently amused.

He decided he couldn't press her without risking her demanding for his name as well and opted to try a different tactic.

"Is your date a ministry employee?" he tried.

"Yes. He works for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," she provided matter-of-factly.

Draco immediately started running through his single coworkers, trying to guess who might have brought this woman. Unfortunately, the only person he could think of was the last person he would want to see with this incredible creature on his arm. He had to work hard to school his features and his voice that would inevitably give away his disdain before he asked her.

"It isn't Weasley, is it?" he asked as innocently as possible.

She frowned at the question, and for a moment he thought he had given himself away by the way he said the Weasel's name.

"No. I'm not here with him."

She seemed distracted by the question so Draco quickly changed the subject, wanting her attention back on him.

"Well, if you won't tell me your name, at least tell me something about yourself."

She looked into his eyes again as she thought of an answer to his question.

"I wasn't originally going to come tonight, but I'm glad I did," she conceded with a smile.

It wasn't the information he was fishing for, but he smiled back at her nonetheless. He pulled her even closer to him so that there was barely any space between them at all and slid his hand further down her back so its placement was bordering on inappropriate. She let out a little gasp at the sudden movement. Draco smiled devilishly at her surprise, and at the fact that she didn't pull away. He lowered his face to hers so their noses were barely an inch apart.

"I'm glad you came, too," he whispered.

He felt more than heard her breath hitch and her eyes were wide with surprise. Her expression slowly relaxed and a fire turned her brown eyes to gold. She gently inclined her head, her eyes inviting him to move.

Draco pressed his lips to hers with as much gentleness as he could muster, at first. Then he added pressure to the kiss. He ran his tongue gently over her bottom lip which quickly fell open in response. His tongue took hers immediately and he deepened the kiss for a few more seconds before she began to pull away.

He opened the eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed and took in her flushed cheeks and newly moistened lips.

"Very glad," he whispered, lips still barely grazing her mouth.

He pulled away and dropped the hand that was still clutching her lower back, but he maintained his hold on her hand. Draco began to lead them across the dance floor, his walk determined as he gently pulled her along with him.

Her hand was still in his and he was leading her across the room. Hermione's brain was finally catching up with her actions. She had just kissed a total stranger. More than that, she had wanted to kiss a total stranger.

She had caught Ginny's eye at the beginning of their dance and received an encouraging smile from her friend. Her task was completed, yet she still found herself inexplicably interested in the stranger in front of her. She wondered why he could be hiding his identity from her, but then who was she to judge when she was doing the exact same thing. Everyone has their reasons, she guessed.

Her mind was still reeling from the feel of his body pressed flush against hers, of his hand on her back, of his lips on her lips. She'd never been this affected by a kiss. It's not that her kisses in the past had been particularly bad, but they had never made her feel this electrified. She felt like a live wire.

Apparently the reckless part of her wasn't satisfied because she found herself letting him lead her from the room, down the hall, until they burst into an empty office.

He slammed the door behind them, spun around, and had her pinned against it all in the same fluid motion. He met her eyes for a brief moment, a look of hunger dancing in the dim moonlight, before he moved to her neck where he started placing feathery kisses which were quickly becoming firmer with each touch.

A soft moan escaped from her throat and she felt him smile against her neck. She knew she should make him stop. She didn't do this kind of thing. She was Hermione Granger. She was smart and responsible and made good decisions, which this most definitely was not. But her sudden recklessness had other plans. His lips felt too good against her skin, his body too warm, and it had been too long. Her arms were snaking up around his neck before she even realized she had moved, and he transferred his attention back to her lips.

She decided to throw all caution to the wind and let it happen. She hadn't felt this alive since the days of the war and she needed the adrenaline pumping through her like the drug it was. Her lips moved with him and she tugged him even closer to her. She could feel him growing against her leg through the layers of her dress and suddenly wanted those layers out of the way.

She grabbed his hand, which was resting on her hip, and guided it to the back of her dress until it landed on her zipper. He broke the kiss and met her eyes again, silently asking for permission. She gave a barely noticeable nod before placing a soft kiss on his jaw.

The tightness around her torso disappeared as he swept the zipper down her back. The dress fell in a pile around her legs leaving her in nothing but her knickers. He stepped back to take her in and smiled. She smiled too, amazed that her boldness hadn't yet subsided. She stalked towards him pushing him back onto the desk where she started to remove his tie and shirt, while he took care of his jacket and pants.

When he was down to nothing, he picked her up and swung her around so she was sitting on the desk. The action elicited a yelp and then a giggle from Hermione. He started kissing her again, running his hands down her sides until his fingers latched onto the fabric of her knickers which he swiftly managed to remove, taking care of the last piece of clothing in their way.

Draco pulled away from her then, taking all of her in. Well, not all of her. That pesky mask was still hiding her from him. He reached up to stroke her hair and rested his hand at the corner of the mask. He started to pull at it when her hand snapped up to his and held it in place.

"No," she said softly, shaking her head.

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then moved his lips to her ear.

"But I want to see you. All of you," Draco whispered.

She shivered at his request, but didn't relent, shaking her head again.

"Not yet," she said firmly.

Draco sighed and started tracing a line of kisses from her ear to her mouth. If he was being honest, her mysteriousness was actually turning him on, so maybe it was for the best. He caught her lips and increased the force of his pressure. His hand began to knead her soft breast which caused a whimper that Draco felt all the way in his groin.

He slid his other hand over her hip until it teased the outside of her. He felt her breathing pick-up and her back arch slightly at his light touch.

"Please," she breathed.

He continued to tease her, enjoying the soft whimpers coming from those beautiful lips. He leaned in to her ear and nuzzled her cheek with his nose.

"Impatient, aren't we?" he smirked.

As he said it, he plunged his fingers inside of her and received a satisfying moan in response. She pulled him tightly to her and kissed him harder. He played with her until he couldn't stand it any longer. He pulled his fingers out and looked into her eyes. She looked hesitant so he placed another soft kiss on her lips, then closed his eyes and rested his forehead on hers.

"We can stop," Draco said, the reluctance clear in his husky voice.

He opened his eyes to find her looking at him and watched as desire replaced the hesitancy in her golden eyes. She shook her head and cupped his cheek in one hand, drawing their lips back together, while her other hand grasped his now rock hard erection and guided it inside of her.

She felt even more amazing than he expected, wonderfully tight and slick. Draco began to rock his hips into her, slowly at first, enjoying the feel of her all around him, then increasing in pace as he drew the moans from her throat. Her hair began to fall out of it's careful placement, just a few tendrils here and there, but it reminded him of something he couldn't quite place. He brushed it back with his fingers and placed a soft kiss on her jaw trailing kisses back to her lips.

When he knew he wouldn't last much longer, he slid his hand down to play with her sensitive spot until he noticed the signs of her reaching her climax. Draco came first but, with a few more rubs, she came shortly after, the clenching of her muscles emphasizing his own orgasm.

Hermione knew she was reaching her limit and felt her orgasm coming on. Her dark stranger came first, releasing himself into her as he continued to play with her until she joined him. At the moment of his orgasm, she could've sworn she saw a subtle shift in his hair in the moonlight, as if a part of it had changed from almost black to white. She deduced it must have been a trick of the light right before he sent her over the edge.

As her trembling subsided, he slid out of her and pulled both of them to the floor where he grabbed his jacket and wand and used the latter to turn the former into a blanket which he threw over both of them. She lay against his chest as her breathing slowly calmed, absently tracing circles on his chest with her finger. Now that her recklessness had finally abated, the feeling of danger was stronger. She somehow felt there would be repercussions for her actions that had something to do with this man, who she suddenly realized she still did not know.

As if he could hear her brain working he asked, "What are you thinking?"

"I still don't know who you are, nor you me," she answered truthfully.

"Well that's not my fault," he quipped.

She laughed, but it subsided quickly. Something in her gut told her she didn't want to find out who this man was. She felt like it would ruin everything. Hermione sat up and the stranger started tracing circles on her back just like she had been doing moments before.

"I have to go," she said, but she didn't move.

His fingers stilled on her back and he splayed out his palm against it as he sat up to look at her.

"You're not really going to leave without telling me who you are?" he asked incredulously.

She gave a small smile as she stood up to get herself dressed. Once she had her dress zipped with the help of her wand, she headed to the door, but turned back once her hand touched the doorknob.

He was sitting there staring at her with a disbelieving expression, but he didn't make a move to stop her.

"It's not a very good story if I tell you now, is it?" she smiled coyly then slipped through the door.

Draco sat there, the sound of the door closing ringing in the silence of the room. The entire ordeal seemed so surreal. He'd had his fair share of hook-ups, but none that left him this speechless, or this in need of more.

Yet he hadn't stopped her. He let her go and never got her name. He realized that there was something unsettling about the reality of knowing who she was. As much as he wanted to know, something in him told him that maybe he didn't. Perhaps it was the odd sense of familiarity he'd had when he first met her and again when her hair started falling out of it's meticulous style in a way that looked vaguely familiar. He couldn't place the woman, but he knew that he knew her, and something told him he really didn't want to know who that was.

He got up and took his time getting dressed before he made his way back to the ball. He honestly wasn't sure what he would do if he saw her again.

Hermione found her way back to the ballroom and located Ginny quickly between her flame-red hair and her silver-sequined dress. Hermione grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her to the side of the room.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" the younger which asked, concerned.

"Nothing, Ginny. I just think it's time for me to head home."

Ginny picked up on Hermione's mood despite her insistence that she was fine.

"Something's happened. Tell me what's wrong."

Hermione huffed, not particularly wanting to divulge her secret here, but she knew Ginny was persistent and wouldn't let it drop.

"Fine. I may have …. hooked up in one of the offices with a stranger," Hermione admitted bashfully.

Ginny practically screamed with glee and surprise.

"You're kidding! I'm so glad I dragged you here! Who was it?" Ginny sputtered without taking a breath.

"I don't know," Hermione blushed again. "We left our masks on."

Ginny looked at Hermione as if she had never seen her before.

"That's why I want to leave, it'd be awkward to run into him at this point," Hermione pleaded with her friend.

Ginny nodded in understanding.

"Harry and I will come with you. He just keeps telling the same old work stories anyways," Ginny offered.

"No," Hermione replied. "You two stay here and enjoy the rest of the ball. I'll see you later."

Ginny pecked Hermione on the cheek and squeezed her shoulder before she went off to find Harry again. Hermione made her way towards the entrance, but as she was leaving, her eyes caught shining grey ones that seemed to have a magnetic pull. She gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, about to turn away, when her attention was again drawn to his hair. The same effect she had previously thought to be a trick of the light was rippling over his head, as if a charm was wearing off. As the blonde started to peek through, Hermione tore her eyes away and ran from the room. She didn't stop until she had apparated safely home and as far away from Draco Malfoy as possible.

AN: This was originally meant to be a stand-alone one-shot, but so many people wanted to see a sequel so I wrote one. It's called At Last Unmasked. I personally love the ambiguous ending, but for those of you that need the closure, check it out.