Chapter 11- Before and During the Ball

Hermione was still staring at the spot where Draco had turned the corner, looking extremely punch drunk, when Harry and Ron came out of their hiding spot to heartily congratulate her on the successful attempt at asking Draco out.

Ron and Harry started walking to the Common Room, and had gone about ten feet when they noticed that Hermione was not with them, and when they looked back, saw that Hermione had not moved.

"Hermione?"

Just as Ron and Harry started walking towards Hermione rather than away from her, she swayed on the spot and fell with a 'thunk' on the floor, unconscious.

"Ah," said Ron, failing at his pitiful attempt to look wise as they picked Hermione off the floor. "young love."

Harry snorted.

"What?"

"Oh nothing, Master Matchmaker."

When they finally reached the Head's Dorm, after many complaints from both Ron and Harry about how much they preferred Hermione when she was lighter, they were faced with yet another obstacle: they hadn't a clue as to what the password was.

"This is just bloody great," grumbled Ron, setting Hermione's feet on the ground and massaging his abused arms. "first we have to carry Hermione here almost halfway across the castle, and now we don't know the stupid password!"

"Relax, Ron," said Harry, trying to soothe his incredibly hot-headed and short-tempered friend. "we could knock. Maybe Draco'll let us in."

Ron grunted.

Harry knocked on the portrait a couple of times before he heard a voice, Malfoy's, shouting something from inside. The portrait, which looked thoroughly displeased at having been knocked on, opened, and Draco's head popped out.

"-forgot the password? You're supposed to be smart-"

Just then, she saw Hermione slumped against the wall against Ron and Harry and Draco's pale face paled even more. Wordlessly, she held the portrait open so that Ron and Harry could bring Hermione in. They dumped her on the plush maroon couch in front of the fireplace and Ron sat down by her head, moaning and rubbing his arms. "Finally, we got rid of that load of potatoes," he said, jerking his thumb to Hermione.

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "she's actually much heavier than she looks."

"Well," said Draco silkily, having recovered from the shock of seeing Hermione unconscious. "did you two ever think of levitating her?"

A pregnant pause followed wherein you could hear the gears of Ron and Harry's minds click slowly into place.

"Uh, right. Didn't think of that one."

A couple of uncomfortable minutes for Harry and Ron paused. They didn't know if it was just their imagination, or perhaps guilt, but to them, Draco's stare looked somewhat… accusing, like he blamed them for what happened to Hermione.

"Okay," said Ron, rising from his seat. "we'll go now."

"Wait a minute," said Draco, just as they were about to leave. "what happened to Hermione?"

Harry paused, one foot already out of the door and into the corridor and looked at Draco. "You did," he said simply, and disappeared.

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Hermione groaned and sat up, rubbing the crust from around her eyes off. She moved her hand to the sore lump behind her head and winced.

What happened last night? Last thing I remember was that I asked Draco to the dance and he said yes… wait a minute, he said yes! Yay for me!

She looked around her and immediately recognized the familiar walls and décor of the Head's Dorm. She also saw that a warm blanket had been tucked around her snugly, and wondered if Draco had done that. At the thought of Draco, her insides squirmed uncomfortably.

Her thoughts about Draco, however, were interrupted by a knock on the portrait. She made her way to the portrait unsteadily as Ron had been rather careless about handling her legs the night before. When the portrait swung open, Ron and Harry appeared, wearing cloaks, scarves, and gloves.

"Why are you guys all dressed up?" asked Hermione.

"Didn't we tell you, 'Mione?" asked Ron. "we're going to Hogsmeade today!"

"Right… but it isn't even a Hogsmeade weekend and what are we going to do there? Can't you guys curb your urge for Butterbeer?"

"Oh," said Harry. "well, we could use the secret passage to Honeydukes and out of here and well, I was hoping to get something for, erm-"

"He's gonna get something for Ginny."

"Thanks a lot mate. Really."

But Hermione lent them only half an ear, too immersed in her own thoughts. It would be lovely if she got something for Draco. Flowers, or chocolate maybe?

"-so, d'you want to come?"

"Uh, sure. Let me just go get dressed."

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After around three hours later, Hermione came back to the Head's Dorm, a tad bit exhausted. Harry had been extremely un-Harry like and fussy when it came to getting Ginny something. Flowers and chocolate were too common, a broomstick that Ron had pointed out had been 'too unromantic', a jar of octopus tentacles was too weird, etc., etc. Hermione, on the other hand, had been in luck and had found the perfect thing to give Draco before the dance.

When Hermione got back, though, she wished that she hadn't. an extremely scary sight met her eyes. It appeared to be a green faced monster wrapped in a white terrycloth, with pink, abnormal and not to mention gross growths coming out from its fingers and toes.

"Ah!" screamed Hermione, backing into the portrait opening behind her. "Stay away from me, you otherworldly freak!"

"Yeah, that's a real nice way to treat your date to the ball," said the 'monster' rolling its eyes. "Really, I'm so flattered."

"Draco?"

"What?"

"Is that you?"

"Duh."

"Oh," Apparently, Draco had his beautifying face mask on and had those weird Styrofoam thingies that you put on when applying nail polish/. Weird.

"Well," said Hermione, after staring to make sure that Draco was who he really said he was. "I'm going to head to my room now-"

"Oh no you don't," said Draco threateningly.

"Why not?"

"Well," said Draco, rather crossly. "we've got to make sure you look perfect for tonight."

Hermione gaped at him. "Draco, the ball is still hours away!"

"So?"

Hermione stared at him disbelievingly.

"Let's go get you ready!"

And thus, with those five words of doom, Hermione was sentenced to hours upon hours of merciless torture. Her eyebrows got plucked, her hair shampooed, conditioned and dried, and many other torture procedures that were so terrible, so painful, that Hermione chose not to remember them in detail.

At present, Hermione was in her room, donning the robe that Draco had picked for her, as he had been thoroughly disappointed in the robe that Hermione had picked herself. Draco was in his room, taking care of some last minute details that Hermione was sure would take him a long time to smoothen out.

So, Hermione went to the Common Room and waited… and waited… and waited. Finally, Draco came out, and Hermione, who was busy picking a loose strand on the sofa, froze. Draco looked…absolutely mesmerizing. His dress was made of a black, gauzy material that reminded Hermione of mist at midnight. Occasionally, sparkles caught the light on the dress, enhancing the enchanting effect even more. The rich black color of the dress contrasted beautifully with Draco's pale skin and hair, but greatly complimented his stormy gray eyes.

Hermione looked magnificent too. Her dress robes were a rich red (ever the true Gryffindor) and it looked good on her. Draco's eyes traveled down (not what you are thinking) , saw the shoes Hermione was wearing and shrieked suddenly.

"What on earth are you wearing Hermione?" asked Draco panickily, looking at Hermione's shoes. "Those things are horrible!"

"Well sorry if I'm not really a guy, and if I don't own any good shoes. I forgot to buy some."

"Forgot? Forgot?! What do you mean forgot? Wait there!" with that, Draco rushed into his room, leaving a confused, and rather scared Hermione behind.

When Draco came back, he was holding a pair of extremely expensive looking pair of shoes. "Here, Salvatorre Ferragamo."

"Isn't Salvatorre Ferragamo a Muggle?" asked Hermione as they walked down the hallway on the way to the Great Hall.

"I don't care if it's a Muggle shoe," sniffed Draco. "mother buys Muggle brands all the time. Louis Vuitton, Manolos, Burberry. You know."

"Oh?"

"Of course. The rich never let blood discrimination get in the way of fashion."

By now, the pair had reached the heavy, oaken double doors of the Great Hall, the sound of a hired band, tinkling glass and laughing voices inaudibly floating from behind the door. The torch brackets on either side of the door frame cast a warm yellow glow on Draco and Hermione.

Just before Draco held out a hand to push open the door, Hermione cleared her throat, shuffling her feet uncomfortably.

"What?" asked Draco, wondering if it was just a trick of the yellow light, or if Hermione was turning red naturally, for some reason.

"Well, uh, I sort of got you something…"

"…"

"Here… hang on," digging into the pockets of the jeans she was wearing under her dress robes. She pulled out a necklace with a pendant and handed it to Draco, her cheeks flushed and refusing to look at him.

"Wow," said Draco, holding up the necklace. The chain was made of white gold and was finely done, so much so that you could hardly make out the individual links. The pendant was also white gold and was shaped like a heart. Tiny chips of onyx were encrusted upon the pendant surface, reflecting the torchlight.

When Hermione finally looked at Draco, she saw that Draco was looking up at her (she was taller now) smiling, his eyes sparkling. "Thanks."

Unexpectedly, a warm, tingly feeling engulfed Hermione, a feeling that made her want to always please Draco, to give Draco stuff that would make Draco look at her like that again.

"Could you put it on me?" asked Draco, holding out the necklace to Hermione, his eyes the same color of the white gold chain that was in his hand.

"P-put it on y-you?"

"Yeah, that's sort of what you're supposed to do when you give a girl a necklace," said Draco, the corners of his mouth upturning slightly at Hermione's cluelessness.

"I dunno… my hands are kind of big."

"So? Afraid you might 'accidentally' strangle me?"

"…"

"Just put it on."

Hermione took the pendant from Draco and fumbled with it for a bit, looking for the lock. She then stepped behind Draco, feeling as though an extremely bright spotlight and the eyes of a million people were trained on her, even though the only people in the corridor at the moment were Draco and Hermione, and the light was dim. Her hands trembling, Hermione clumsily fastened the delicate chain around Draco's just as delicate neck.

"All done," beamed Hermione, privately glad that that ordeal was finally done and over with.

Draco turned around to face Hermione, fingering the pendant. Their eyes locked. "Thanks."

Hermione watched Draco's face inch slowly closer, watched his eyes flutter close.

Just then, the door banged open and both of them pulled back as quick as lightning as Ron walked out, a cream pasty in his mouth and hand.

"Hey guys," he said, spotting Draco and Hermione, bits of cream pasty spraying out of his mouth. While Ron hastily wiped the cream build-up at the corners of his mouth with his sleeve, Draco and Hermione looked at each other, the romantic moment broken. Hermione sighed. Oh well, that was good while it lasted.

"So… let's go in. shall we?" asked Hermione, holding out her arm to Draco.

"Sure. Let's," said Draco, taking Hermione's proffered arm as they made their way into the Great Hall. As soon as they saw the inside, they froze, gaping openly at their surroundings.

"Wow."

The Great Hall looked like it was completely underwater, with magic induced bubbles coming out of the floor every once in a while. The light that the moon shone from the ceiling cast a rippling light on the Hall and all its occupants, and even though the air seemed slightly wet, everyone was perfectly dry, except for the occasional sweaty dancer.

Mermaids (pretty ones), swam a few feet above the enthralled students. A few members of the male popularity were staring at the mermaids. They stopped staring, though, as their jealous girlfriends elbowed them, or did something equally physically painful. Enchanted schools of silver fish flitted around everybody's feet, their shiny scales reflecting the light cast by the stationary glowing clumps of bubbles that were scattered around the room.

The Prefects and Heads had not been able to see the effect of all their decorating because the spells had been put into effect by the teachers a few hours before the dance.

"I know I'm good, just not exactly how bloody good," breathed Draco, still taking in everything. Suddenly, he started dancing around Hermione, clapping his hands gleefully, looking rather like Kreacher when he had told Harry that Sirius had gone to the Department of Mysteries.

"Yeah," said Hermione, coming out of her stupor "yeah we are!" she said, dancing around too. "Give me five!" exclaimed Hermione, holding out her hand expectantly at Draco.

Draco stared at her outstretched hand. "Five what? Galleons?"

"No."

"…"

"Never mind… Muggle thing."

"Ohh."

They watched the mermaids for a while, then "Do you want to dance?"

Draco looked at Hermione, who was rather red and nervous looking. Draco nodded, and they made their way to the dance floor, where some other couples were dancing.

Hermione watched the rippling light dance on Draco's almost-as-pale hair and stormy eyes and could not help wondering what could have happened if Ron had not chosen that moment to appear.

"You look really nice tonight Hermione."

Hermione was startled out of her thoughts suddenly. "Yeah, you look good too, like er, a girl."

"I should hope so," Draco said, smiling at her.

Hermione sighed. Why wasn't anything that came out of her mouth right? It seemed that her whole body was turning traitor on her.

"Right… well d'you want anything to drink?" the song had stopped playing and the people who were dancing had left for their tables. The people left behind stood awkwardly, waiting for the next song to play.

"Sure, I'll just wait for you at that table over there," said Draco, pointing to a nearby table.

Hermione walked to the punch table, wondering what on earth she and Draco would talk about when she went back. Harry was there, pouring out two glasses of punch but was spilling most of it. Hermione saw a red smudge of something on Harry's cheek.

Harry didn't even notice Hermione when she arrived at the punch table. When he realized that the cups he were filling were full, he trotted off to the table where Ginny was sitting like a loyal, happy puppy. Hermione made a mental note to herself to tell Dumbledore to keep Ginny away from the battlefield when Voldemort and Harry were going to kill each other.

She sighed again, remembering how Ron had interrupted she and Draco earlier. All throughout the Ball, she saw Ron dogging Harry and Ginny's every step, dragging his unfortunate date along with him.

"Hermione!" cried out a familiar voice. "You're spilling punch all over the place!" Hermione looked down, and sure enough, there was a puddle of red punch on the tablecloth and was slowly dripping into another puddle on the floor.

"Are you alright?" asked Draco, looking at her queerly.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just… thinking is all." Draco still looked doubtful and suggested they go out for a while.

When they got out, away from all the noise in the Hall, Zabini was ther, apparently waiting for them. Ignoring Hermione completely, he took Draco by the elbow and started talking animatedly to him.

Hermione ground her teeth. Zabini was such a boil. A boil that she itched to burst with a pin. She went to where Zabini was and stepped between him and Draco.

"Hey Draco, why don't we go to that bench under the willow tree there? After all, you are my date. You're lucky you're my date too, and didn't agree to go with some oily bastard. Did you hear that he cried for days?" she looked over her shoulder and saw Zabini glaring furiously at her. "Oh, so sorry Zabini, I didn't see you there."

When Zabini had stomped off in a rage, Draco and Hermione strolled on the grassy ground a few feet away from the lake. They made their way to a willow tree that was just beside the water's edge. It seemed to be glowing from inside

Hermione parted the willow's leaves and saw that behind the green curtain, several capiz lamps had been hung.

"Would you believe that Snape was in charge of decorating this place-?" Draco asked Hermione.

"Snape?! No way."

"-because he didn't."

Draco burst into peals of laughter and Hermione soon joined in, even though the joke wasn't really that funny. Draco, gasping for air, looked at Hermione.

Suddenly, his light grey eyes widened. "Oh. My. God. Hermione, what's happening to your face?!"