Title: The Slightest Touch
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger
Summary: They acknowledge the nascent love that seems to have formed, particularly the evening of the Yule Ball.
Notes: Fluff. Four hundred eighteen words. For Tiina. Drabble.
Song Playing: "You're All I Have" by Snow Patrol.
Hermione stares at the mirror before her, curious to know just who the unfamiliar face is that clones her expression. Her once bushy hair is now neatly piled into a seemingly complex style that feels heavier than the tens of books she carries in her arms. As she shifts from side to side in her dress, the very fabric feels ready to shatter, and she feels more naked in the silk.
Everything seems different as she heads out and walks through the many halls of Hogwarts. She can see the multiple double-takes students and acquaintances would do as she passes by. Blatant confusion. Whispered awe.
Not that she blames them. Every passing reflection, she finds herself doing the same thing too.
And more than three years of seeing those pretentious but kind brown eyes are enough for a certain Slytherin to realize who the mysterious beauty is when she momentarily stops before him. It's too shocking to see her step out of that bookish world of hers.
Hermione nods her head in acknowledgement to Draco, who returns it curtly, albeit with surprise.
He finds himself looking away, pretending to have seen something far more appealing (which is hardly possible at the moment) than the Gryffindor student before him.
She smiles, clearly amused by the reaction.
"Would you mind moving?" she asks quietly, not wanting to bring any attention between the two. It must have been bizarre enough that the two were within parameters of each other, let alone speaking.
"Granger," he mutters.
Snorting, she steps to the side to walk past him. However, she feels Draco's fingers graze the top of her hand, before enclosing it completely to give a quick squeeze. Hermione turns to look up at her fellow fourth year.
"Malfoy," she starts, only to stop when gray eyes meet hers, pleading.
She can't figure out just what it is that those eyes are trying to say, but it's enough that she grasps the other's hand firmly.
"Whatever it is that's bothering you, drop it," she murmurs, and with that, leans in to place a peck on the boy's cheek.
Letting go of his hand, Hermione continues down the hallway to the Great Hall, giving a small wave. Draco watches her from afar, but reaches to touch the cheek her lips grazed, smugness taking over shock.
"Don't get too cocky just because you're Cinderella now," he calls out, only to add under his breath, "because I don't want to see you whisked away by someone else."