Chapter 14:  The Yule Ball

    Snow was falling on Christmas day in soft flurrying waves, last night's heavy snowstorm had subsided and when the sun finally made it's presence known in an hour, it would be a beautiful day at Hogwarts. Silence pervaded Hogwarts the only sounds came from the kitchen where house elves were already bustling about frantically. All of the students still slept soundly, except for Draco Malfoy. 

    Draco lay in his four-poster and tried, unsuccessfully, to cover his ears with his pillow. The loud snores of Goyle, which he had become so use to that they generally helped put him to sleep, had awoken him much earlier than he would have liked. Draco was never one to pass up a few extra hours of sleep in the morning. But it was becoming steadily apparent that this was not going to be one of those mornings. With a disgruntled groan, Draco tossed his pillow to one side and sat up. Pushing the dark green draperies out of the way, he felt in his pocket for his wand. Aiming was a bit tricky since it was still dark in the room, the house elves had yet to light the fires, Draco finally was able to focus his eyes on Goyle's massive hulk. Unfortunately for Goyle, he never took the time to close his curtains. 

    "Petrificus Totalus!" Draco hissed.

    He waited a moment for a reaction from Goyle but there was only silence. With a self-satisfied sigh, Draco settled back amongst his silver and green bedding. Now he could get back to sleep and hopefully return to the dream that he had been so rudely removed from. He could feel himself losing touch with reality as sleep began to overcome him and the library started to flicker indistinctly in his mind as his consciousness gave away. He knew where he was going, and who would be waiting, he only hoped that she would still be in the same state of attire, or lack there of, that she had been in before he had woken up. 

    There was a sudden strangling sound followed immediately by a long, low wheezing. Draco growled and sat up again.

    "Only Goyle could snore through a full body-bind." He grumbled. 

    Getting to his feet, Draco started to sweep menacingly towards the unwittingly form that was Goyle. The stone dungeon that served as the fifth-year Slytherin boy's dorm was suddenly awash with flickering fire light. Momentarily distracted Draco glanced at the fire that was now boisterously burning in the grate that had been cold only moments before. The house elves were obviously beginning to make their rounds. Draco stopped and sighed with defeat. There was no point now. 

    After muttering the counter spell under his breath, Draco turned away from Goyle and looked, for the first time, to the foot of his bed where a large pile of brightly wrapped presents were waiting for him. He felt momentarily surprised by this, Lucius probably wanted to kill him, not send him gifts. But then, Draco supposed, Lucius had probably not informed anyone that his son had left the flock. It might look suspicious to others if Christmas came and went with Lucius ignoring his son. 

    Warily, he poked one package with the tip of his wand. It seemed fine to touch, so Draco scooped up all the packages from home and dumped them into the fireplace. Taking Lucius' last letter to heart, Draco thought it best to not open anything that his father might have had a hand in. Draco had never figured out what the foul smelling powder had been, but his finger tips were red and blistered for several days and Draco imagined that it was supposed to do much more than that to the recipient, but Draco was after all Lucius' son. 

    He stood before the fire and watched the presents go up in flames. Turning back to his bed, he surveyed the much smaller remaining pile of presents. Going along with Lucius would have been so much easier than all of this. Dumbledore had assured him that he would be absolutely safe here at Hogwarts. But Draco knew Lucius better than anyone else, and he doubted greatly that this was the end of it. And all of his reasons for not following his father and thus Voldemort, crumbled before the overwhelming odds of his imminent death. All of his reasons except for one, fell before the Dark Lord, all except for the brown eyes of one girl that would look upon him with nothing but loathing if he ever allowed the dark mark to be branded onto his arm. 


    Everyone in the school seemed overly excited about tonight's upcoming events, at least, Draco thought they were. Being a Malfoy, social events were quite common at the Manor, and a small, pitiful ball hardly seemed impressive. But this was the first time that the younger years had been allowed to attend and Draco was able to forgive the uproar in the Great Hall while he ate breakfast, he was able to ignore tumult in the library for even Madame Pince had given up trying to restrain the eagerness of the other students. But he was unable to overlook the mass of Gryffindors that were congregating outside undertaking in some sort of very noisy play in the deep snow. 

    Draco's eyes narrowed as he stood in the entrance way, could he never have a moments peace without being disturbed by a bunch of rowdy Gryffindors who didn't even have enough sense to stay indoors on such a cold day? And of course, there was the star of Gryffindor tower, Potter himself and Weasley as well. But Granger wasn't with them. Draco searched amongst the hills of snow and finally spotted her. She was walking with that boy, that boy from Potions, her partner for the ball. Draco made a face; he wasn't impressed with Dean Thomas. Granger could do much better than that. 

    With an unexpected shout from the two matching Weasleys who had been hiding behind a tree, flying snow began to fill the air. 

    Draco came down the steps and stood at the edge of the great sea of snow that surrounded the school and continued to watch, unnoticed, the chaos that ensued after the twins started the snow war. Snow flew every which way though none came near Draco as if the flakes themselves were afraid of the absolute look of disapproval and disgust on his face. 

    Granger and that boy had gone unscathed so far, but when Weasley grabbed a great handful of snow and started to chase the girl, she turned and ran right for the school doors. Running as fast as she could while keeping an eye on the redhead who was catching up, she didn't notice Draco blocking her way until she ran into him. With a startled cry she fell back hard and sprawled onto the ground in front of him. His first impulse had been to catch her as he had so many other times, but he could see Thomas hurrying to reach her as well as Weasley and if she wanted to spend her time with them, then one of them could catch her. He glared down at her, the bushy brown hair and pretty face only making him angrier, he felt the old insult issue from him before he could stop himself.

    "Watch it mudblood," he hissed, temporarily forgetting that he was a lone Slytherin in the midst of a troupe of Gryffindors.

    Granger's eyes had still been closed but they flew open at his words and she started up him, shocked. A hush spread quickly through the open area as all of the Gryffindors stopped what they were doing and gazed at Draco with undisguised hate. 

    Weasley reached them first, followed almost immediately by Thomas. Weasley went right past Granger though and swung his fist at Draco who dodged artfully away and then looked again to Granger. Thomas meanwhile was helping Granger get to her feet. Draco's momentary lapse cost him though, as the other two Weasleys joined the fray. Draco soon found himself pressed hard into the stonewall and dangling a foot off the ground as the twins held him up for their brother to take proper aim. 

    "Ron! Stop it!" Granger's voice cut through the angry buzzing that was the rest of her friends. "Fred, George, put him down."

    "What?" The twins cried in unison.

    "Hermione," Ron snapped at her, "you heard what he said, didn't you?" 

    Granger had come up to stand next to him and she put her hand on the arm that he had been about to strike Draco with and said in a quiet voice.

    "I heard him Ron, I just don't care. I don't care about anything he has to say." 

    Draco looked at her in surprise, she met his eyes only briefly, but that was all he needed. She wasn't angry, only tired, and hurt. Draco immediately felt guilty about it all. Now that he could look into her eyes he wasn't quite sure why he had been so angry. 

    Begrudgingly, the twins put him down and the three Weasleys turned their backs on him and walked over to where their fellows were waiting.

    "Granger I..." Draco began, wanting to explain somehow but she cut him off.

    "Go away Malfoy," she said in a sad, defeated voice, "you're not welcome here."



    "Draco! There you are, I was beginning to think that you had forgotten me." 

    Draco looked across the Slytherin common room to find Pansy rushing to him, blue robes shimmering distractingly around her. 

    "Of course not Pansy, the ball starts at 7, I told you that I would meet you at a quarter till." Draco spoke in a slow even voice as if he was talking to a very young child.

    Pansy screwed up her face unpleasantly and then seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say and softened into a smile. 

    "Well you're here now. Don't I look ravishing?" Pansy preened before him, her tight blue robes fitting snugly around the curves that Draco had to admit did have their appeal. 

    "Mhmm," he responded. "Shall we?" 

    Pansy's smile deepened and she accepted the arm that Draco offered to her. They strolled up the dungeon stairs and found themselves on the landing across from the great hall. The doors were thrown wide and people were already beginning to pass through them into the bright dining hall. Pansy smiled to almost everyone that they passed. It wasn't an act of friendship, only one of pride and conceit. While it never used to bother him, Draco found her bravado rather distasteful. Her blue robes were almost painfully revealing and while once Draco would have found his vantage point to be a favorable one, tonight he felt that her attire was almost lewd and he couldn't help but think of a certain brown-haired Gryffindor who would never make such an obvious show of her physical attributes, pleasing as they were. 

    They sat down at a small table along with Crabbe, Goyle, and their dates. They had both managed to convince some second year Slytherins to accompany them. Draco thought that this might not have been entirely voluntary on the girls' part. Both of them sat huddled together looking frightened of the two hulking brutes to either side of them. 

    Dinner was over quickly and the students were finally able to begin socializing. Pansy attached herself to Draco again and pulled him out on the dance floor. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. Her body was rubbing rhythmically against his along to the music. Once upon a time Draco would have found this to be quite exhilarating. But now Pansy seemed to be only a pale shade of what he really wanted. Draco stopped dancing. 

    "Do I want Granger?" He wondered in shock. "Is that what this is all about? Granger?" 

    Pansy crossed her arms angrily, "What's wrong with you Draco?" 

    Draco stared down at Pansy without seeing her. His mind was racing over this sudden obstacle in his thoughts. He knew that he had kissed her, more than once, but he had never once considered that he might actually want her. She had some sort of bewildering pull, of that, he was well aware. But for him to actually want her...he had never considered it as a possibility. 

    "Draco..." Pansy whined. Suddenly getting an idea, she leaned close to him and purred in his ear, "whatever has you distracted, I can show you something much more interesting later." Her hands tightened on him in a way that left Draco with no doubt as to what she meant.

    "No thanks Pansy," he told her, a hint of disgust in his voice.

    She glared at him vehemently and then spun on her heel, storming away angrily. Draco didn't watch her retreat though; he was already scanning the noisy crowd of students for Granger. 

    He moved off to one side so that he could better scan the crowd. It was hard to find anyone in such a teeming area. Since all the years were allowed to attend, it was very loud here. It was hard to make out the band, a troupe of women who looked almost like banshees and wailed in high-pitched voices that was oddly pleasing. It took him a few minutes to find her. She was dancing with that boy. Draco glared at them, feeling much like he had earlier that day. Thomas moved clumsily along with Granger who seemed so graceful in comparison that the appropriate metaphor would be something along the lines of a butterfly versus an elephant. 

    She was wearing the red robes that he had seen her admiring in Gladrags. They moved easily with her and Draco noticed that the red brought out an astonishing array of color in her brown hair. She seemed happy enough, dancing with Thomas, but Draco knew that she could do better than that. 

    The couple stopped at the next song and sat at a table well into the Gryffindor corner of the Great Hall. Draco watched with cold eyes as she sat with her friends. Potter and Weasley had come without dates but they seemed to be enjoying themselves. Potter, Weasley, Thomas, and his Irish friend seemed to be talking animatedly amongst themselves. When Weasley suddenly jumped to his feet and made a swooping motion with his hand, Draco knew they were discussing Quidditch. Now Draco loved Quidditch as much as the next wizard, but that was no way to treat your partner at a social event. Granger was certainly beginning to look bored. Concerned as he was over Thomas' behavior, he hadn't given a thought to the probably extremely distraught Pansy Parkinson. 

    Granger leaned towards the boy and whispered something to him. He nodded, smiling, and she left the table. She walked to the refreshment table and filled a glass with spiced pumpkin juice. She drank this slowly as she continued to stroll somewhat aimlessly around the outskirts of the dancing mob. Something seemed to catch her eye and Granger walked to the open doors that led outside. 

    Draco watched her look out onto the grounds a look of delight on her face. He knew that he had peculiar thoughts when it came to her. But he hadn't ever given them much consideration before. He had believed that they would go away on their own like a cold. But now that he was confronted with the idea that he might want her, another, even more disturbing notion came to him. What if he actually liked her? What if these odd thoughts extended beyond lust? What then?

    Granger glanced back at Thomas and her friends; they were still talking amongst themselves and seemed rather oblivious to the ball going on around them. 

    "Could I really go against everything that Lucius ever thought me about mudbloods and purebloods? Could I really have feelings for Hermione Granger?" Draco asked himself silently, almost fearing the answer.

    Granger took one last look at her date and then walked through the open doors. By the time the last bit of crimson cloth had disappeared Draco had come to a decision. 

    "Well," he muttered, "there's really only one way to find out, and it's been a long time since I've listened to Lucius."

    Draco stole across the dance floor, avoiding spinning couples and plunged through the doors out into the cold. But Draco found that it wasn't very cold out after-all. There was obviously some sort of enchantment going on to keep the temperature comfortable outside. He found that he didn't even need to go put his cloak on. A cool breeze ruffled his smoke-gray dress robes, but it wasn't enough to chill him. 


    The year before, he had left the ball in order to explore the decorated grounds with Pansy, not that they had done much exploring, not in the traditional sense at least. The grounds were different this year though. Everything seemed to be made of ice. Where an open lawn used to be, there was now a maze of ice. Thick walls lined a path of ice bricks. Delicate snowflakes were falling from a clear, cloudless sky. In one large clearing, Draco found a fountain made of ice, water bubbled restlessly from it and froze half way down it's descent, forming tiny little icicles that fell to the bottom where they melted almost immediately. There were no lights that he could see, and yet the whole area glowed with a rosy radiance. But was it rosy? For as Draco turned a corner the light seemed to have become blue, green, and then yellow. The light seemed to be emanating from the ice itself, touching one of the walls gingerly; he found that it wasn't cold. 

    He had been walking through this winter wonderland for quite some time now and hadn't seen a single sign of Granger anywhere. He had glimpsed other people of course, nameless figures that stood pressed together down some alternate pathway in an ardent embrace. 

    Draco could hear the melodic music become louder. Either he was nearing the entrance of the ball, or they had turned the music up. Feeling a bit frustrated Draco sat down on an ornately carved bench that should have been freezing seeing as how it was made of ice but wasn't. A movement caught his eye and he looked up, through the wall of ice opposite him, he could see a hazy figure clad in red. Getting to his feet, Draco swiftly started up the path again. Turning left at the nearest opportunity he backtracked and soon found himself in a circular courtyard with benches lining the walls. Granger was sitting on one, looking up at the sky as tiny snowflakes fluttered down. Her brown, curly hair was only half way up; the rest fell around her shoulders in delicate waves, catching stray snowflakes in their tresses. 

    "No snowflake is alike you know, each one is it's own different little marvel." She said in a low voice as if she was really very far away from him and not just out of reach.

    "Actually," he said as he flopped casually onto a neighboring bench, "all you have to do is use the speculum charm and duplicate them. I use to do that all the time when I was younger, really put the muggles in a tizzy when you showed them identical snow...."

    Draco trailed off as Granger gave him a withering glare, the nostalgic smirk that he had been wearing faded from his face. 

    "What do you want Malfoy?" 

    "I...who said that I wanted anything?" He snapped at her. 

    Granger looked away without saying anything. Draco thought that she looked oddly small sitting there, a tiny spot of scarlet amongst a field of icy white. Draco felt something soften inside of him.

    "I'm sorry, about what I said earlier." 

    She looked up at him in surprise, "why are you sorry?"

    "I shouldn't have said it," he paused and looked at her again, "and I didn't mean it either." 

    She met his eyes now and smiled. Draco felt his smirk creep back and he sighed happily, this was how it should be. He could hear the music start up again, a distant tune that carried slowly over the ice. He stood up and turned to her holding out his hand. She looked up at him quizzically.

    "What?" 

    Draco rolled his eyes at her before responding, "I'm asking you to dance, Granger."

    "What?"

    "Dance, Granger, it's what people do at balls, they dance," a hint of amusement was slipping into his voice.

    She frowned at him, "you must be joking."

    "I saw you dancing with Thomas and I thought that you at least deserved one dance with a real partner. I told you that he was too gangly." Draco replied patiently.

    "He is not gangly." Granger snapped, but Draco could tell that she was just saying that out of Gryffindor pride. 

    "Granger?" Draco's hand was still held out to her. 

    With a look that said she thought no good could come of this, Granger cautiously raised her hand and set it in his. He had a moment to marvel at how delicately small it seemed in his before he tightened his grip and pulled her gently to her feet.

    Granger looked at him nervously, she awkwardly placed a hand on his shoulder. Draco smirked at her apprehension and wrapped his arm her waist, his hand resting at the small of her back applying the smallest bit of pressure. Her eyes widened at this contact and she seemed about to tell him off for it but he had already started to dance, pulling her along with him. 

    Her anxiety seemingly abandoned, Granger let him hold her close as they danced. After a moment she seemed completely at ease and he found that she was smiling in a far-off dreamy sort of way. Her eyes were half closed, her slow movements following the distant music. She let her head rest gently on his shoulder as the music slowed to a crawl. They were barely moving now, the snow still fluttered around them and light glinted softly off of the ice, but Draco wasn't aware of this anymore. He could see only her, one his many enemies, and probably his only friend. Draco knew that at this perfect window in time, it didn't matter that he was a pureblood and she a mudblood. It didn't matter that Lucius was after him or that the Dark Lord would probably kill them all in a year or too. All that mattered right now was that the girl in his dreams was here, and that he was about to kiss her. 

    He titled his head down towards hers, his lips searching for hers, wanting so badly to feel her respond to him. Draco let his eyes close knowing that he didn't need to see her to find her. 

    "Malfoy, what's going on with us?" She whispered softly.

    Draco snapped back to attention. Granger was looking at him, the question apparent in her face. And Draco felt his perfect moment slip between his fingers and once again the weight of the reality was upon him. To need her like this was impossible for him, he couldn't pretend that is wasn't. 

    "Why do you always call me Malfoy?" He asked, letting go of her and stepping back.

    "Wh...what?" Granger looked puzzled. 

    The sudden subject change had taken her quite by surprise and Draco forced his most superior smirk. 

    "You always call me Malfoy, and I always call you Granger, why is that?" 

    "I...I don't know," she was looking very flustered now. "Well we've never been properly introduced have we?" Granger seemed to grab onto this ridiculous statement out of desperation. 

    "True, we never did go through the niceties on our first encounter did we?" Draco was feeling himself regain control of the situation. "That's easily remedied you know. Draco Aquilis Malfoy at your service." He bowed slightly. 

    Granger seemed stunned and she opened and closed her mouth several times obviously trying to think of some witty response. Finding none she simply blushed and looked down at their feet before she replied.

    "Hermione Anne Granger, and don't make fun of the initials." 

    Draco smiled, they seemed like friends at the moment. 

    "Aquilis? Isn't that Latin?" Hermione asked suddenly drawing his attention back. 

    "Yes it is, as is Draco." 

    "I know that Draco is, it means dragon, but Aquilis?" Her brow was crinkled in concentration and she began pacing. "Aquilis...doesn't that mean dark?" 

    Draco grinned at her, oddly proud of her quick mind, and nodded. 

    "You're named dark dragon?" A grin suddenly spread across her face.

    "It's a family name!" Draco said indignantly. 

    "Of course it is," she agreed while trying unsuccessfully to stop herself from giggling.

    "I see now why we've never been properly introduced." Draco said crossly although the anger didn't reach his eyes and she knew it. 

    "I won't laugh anymore, I promise." She managed to gasp out between peals of laughter. 

    Her laughter died down while Draco glared at her disapprovingly and again she seemed lost in thought. 

    "Mal...Draco?" She said softly.

    Draco felt himself want to smile when she called him by his name but he fought against it.

    "Yes?"

    "If you were a wizard in the sixteenth century, and you were writing down something very important, what language would you write it in?" She whispered this breathlessly.

    "Well," Draco began trying to think, "it would depend on whether you were well educated. I mean, most wizards back then could write, but the really intellectual ones always seemed to prefer dead languages like Greek or..." his voice trailed off and he met her eyes. "You don't think...?"

    "Of course! That explains it!" She cried gleefully. "He wrote the books in Latin before he translated them into Arithmancy codes!"

    Hermione bounded forward and threw her arms around Draco and excitedly kissed his cheek. Before he could even react she had grabbed his arm and spun around. Pulling him behind her she rushed back up the icy path.

    "What? Where are we going?" He managed to ask; still feeling shocked over her exuberant display.

    "The library of course. We have to start translating now!" She replied over her shoulder.

    "But what about the ball?" 

    "How can you think about balls at a time like this?" She stopped short and turned to face him. "We're on the brink of discovering what is written in those books. Don't you want to know what was so very important that O'Leary went to all this trouble?" She let go of his arm and glared at him, "are you coming or not?"

    Draco stared at the crimson-clad Gryffindor; she looked like she might explode due to excitement. And he had to admit that he felt it too. 

    "Of course I am...Hermione."