Year Seven:Blindsided

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or places they belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling:
It is her world I just play in it.


Chapter 10-The Halloween Ball


In the few days since he’d begun to take the potion, everyone who had been unfortunate enough to have his or her path cross that of the Head-boy had noted Draco’s attitude problem. His fellow members of Slytherin house were delighted to have Draco back, “as he should be”. He, on the other hand, was more disgusted with the whole lot of them than he had been since the start of the term.


He couldn’t say why, but something about that group of insipid posers had really begun to rub him the wrong way as of late. The blond wizard grew increasingly impatient with almost every aspect of the Slytherins behavior. It seemed to him that only the most ignorant people were obtuse enough to be so arrogant as were his housemates. Draco wished, not for the first time, that he’d been assigned to another house. The members of Slytherin House were not the only ones to feel the wrath brought on by Draco’s surly attitude in the days leading up to Halloween.


No student dared to cross paths with the Head-boy since Monday, when he’d docked sixty points from a third-year Ravenclaw and a fourth-year Hufflepuff who were, “talking far too loudly,” in the hallway in which Draco happened to be walking. His thoughts would turn again and again to Hermione, he was especially hostile to her, but in much more passive ways.


The fact that the mudblood was somehow making him act like and angry woman only enraged him further. He knew he’d made the potion so that he would stop thinking of her, but it seemed now that he was consumed with thoughts of her. Not pleasant thoughts as they had been before, horrible things like strangling her while she slept.


Yet she had done nothing to provoke such hatred in him. He was deeply disturbed by his inability to control himself; he was also conflicted, he did not really want to hurt her. He began to feel disgusted with himself; these were the kind of things a monster like his father would think about doing. It was this redoubtable realization that had led the Head-boy to make a more holistic attempt to control himself. “HA-CHOO!” he sneezed violently, great the last thing he needed was to be feeling rotten too!


In the days since Hermione had confessed her true feelings about Draco to Ginny, her mood and appetite and begun to decline at an alarming rate. Her grades, however, had never been higher. As usual she was the only student in the entirety of the school that as less than thrilled that the last two classes today would be cancelled, owing to the need to prepare for the Ball this evening. She hung her head lower than ever as she left Creation of Curses and Counter Curses, as her academics were now her only source of joy. Even her teachers agreed that she needed to lighten up a bit.


She hunched her shoulders and walked to the common room of her suite, there seemed to be no point in going to the Great Hall only to sit and watch others eat. As a matter of fact, it made her even more depressed. She settled down in a chair next to the fireplace and began to read, she did not know how long she’d been reading when a knock came from the portrait hole.


Hermione crossed the room, her book still in hand, and opened the portrait. Ginny stood just outside in the hallway, despondently looking down at the dress robes she held in her hand. “Hermione, help me! Please?”


“Ginny what is the matter with you? Are you alright?”


“No. Yes, my dress robes are a frightful mess. Someone ruined them, and no one will say who in the name of Merlin did it. You are the only one I know who is talented enough to fix them. Please say that you’ll help, there are only a few hours left until the Ball!”


Hermione smiled for the first time in nearly a week as she took the mess of fabric that passed for Ginny’s dress robes; she was tickled to be useful to someone again. She asked that Ginny follow her to her room in order for the two of them to have access to the Head-girl’s personal library, which had grown to Herculean proportions. Hermione paged eagerly through a book in search of a solution to the unfortunate vicissitude that had befallen her friend.


She spread Ginny’s robes out over her bed, so that she might get a better idea of the damage, which she must repair. The once purple robes were now sporting holes and hideous bald patches that were a flat hue of peach. Hermione took out her wand and performed the first of the two spells she’d found to mend Ginny’s robes.


“Resarcio Textum,” she said soberly. She raised her wand once more, “Consto Amethystinus”.


Ginny was near to tears at the amazing job the brainy witch had done at repairing her robes, “Thank you so much Hermione,” Ginny whispered.


“I’ve also fixed it so that the colour will never fade, it looks smashing on you.”


For a moment Ginny could find no words, she’d been happy to have a nice set of dress robes, but after Hermione’s mending these looked and felt as though they were new. It was very rare for any Weasley to have any new clothes. Even the patches that had worn the velour over time were gone. “Brilliant!” Ginny gave her friend a bear hug.


Hermione was truly happy for the first time in over a year, and her stomach growled. Fortunately for her Ginny had anticipated this possibility and had brought Hermione a plate of food. “I am so glad that your stomach has come to its senses and decided to let you eat something. That way I don’t have to force-feed you.” Ginny was only half joking as she chided her friend.


Hermione asked Ginny to stay and suggested that the two of them might help each other in preparations for the Ball. Each of the girls took a quick shower and then proceeded to primp themselves for the evening’s festivities.


During the hours between lunch and the feast preceding the Halloween Bash Draco’s physical condition had worsened noticeably. He had gone to see Madam Pomfrey in search of a cure for his cold symptoms. He had found only partial success; his nose was still congested. He was more than a little miffed that he would not be able to taste his dinner, the food on Halloween was, in Draco’s opinion, the best that the school served all year.


He ascended the stairs to his room to properly groom himself for the party this evening. He paused outside Hermione’s room, he heard giggling. ‘Great,’ he thought, ‘I will have to deal with a party girl for the rest of the year! I bet it is Snape in there giving her his magical expertise.’ He took a deep breath, why in the name of Salazar Slytherin should he give a damn about anything that the slutty little mudblood did? He grew angry with himself for thinking of her again, and continued to his room.


Draco took off the robes that were the universal attire of students at Hogwarts and let them fall to the floor, then he stood naked I front of the full-length mirror. He admired his well-defined muscles; it would be an understatement to say that the young man in the reflection he beheld was ripped. Draco flexed his muscles; he was a perfectionist, when it came to his physique and he was unhappy with his biceps and resolved to fix them.


With only a half hour until the start of the Feast, Draco swaggered down to the Great Hall. As he approached the doors Dumbledore stopped him. The Headmaster informed him that in order to enter the Hall, in the spirit of the holiday he must consent to having a glamour cast upon him that would conceal his identity from the rest of the partygoers until he went to sleep that night.


He consented, and in a few minutes he was seated comfortably at one of the many round table that had been set up in the hall in the place of the four long house tables. He surveyed the Hall and as he did so he found that there was some strangely familiar quality about the way in which the decorations were placed. He tried to move on and not to think about this eerie feeling of deja vous.


Hermione and Ginny had each finished her preparations for the Ball with ten minutes left until the Feast and began the long walk down to the Great Hall. Each of them entered and took a seat, a condition of the glamour was that once you lost track of the people with whom you entered, you would not be able to identify them again. This being the case, the two witches took great care to remain in sight of each other.


After the meal had ended they decided that they might have more fun if they were to split up for the Ball, so with a last glance the two witches parted ways. Almost immediately after Ginny left her side a wizard asked Hermione for a dance, a wizard that she knew better than to try and identify, as it would only exhaust her. He was only the first of many to offer her his services as a dance partner to her that evening. All of the wizards in the Hall were attractive in a way, but only one had a glance that moved her and a grace of motion that shamed all others.


Hermione shook her head at this vague memory, or at least she thought that it was a memory. It would not do her much good to think about something obscure when she should be having fun. She continued to dance with everyone who asked her, she soon found that her dance card for the evening was nearly full. She hoped that she would be fortunate enough to dance with the beautiful, lithe wizard she had spied earlier in the evening.


Draco was actually very glad of his disguise, as he could act as he wished. He worked his way around the room and he was rather surprised when he realized that he was actually having fun. For the first time in his life not one person was scampering from his path as a matter of course. ‘This must be what it feels like when you are a normal person,’ Draco thought. He was over the moon to understand how it felt to live in a world full of people that didn’t despise him. Quite the opposite actually, the ladies in the room seemed to flock to him, as if they were all of one mind.


He tried once again to shake the feeling that he’d done this before. At that moment he did feel as though he was a prince, one searching desperately for his princess. He was irritated with the girl he was dancing with, it seemed that she was rather spoiled. He wondered if she would even notice if he were to pass her off on some other guy. He decided that there was no way she would perceive that she’d been passed-off, as long as he didn’t break into her story. He smiled at her, she blushed, and then the dance was over. He bowed deeply to her, remembering that he would retain more charm if he kept his thoughts to himself.


Prince Draco moved to the next lady, who was eagerly awaiting her opportunity to dance with him. He flashed her a disarming smile and it seemed that the young witch with whom he was dancing was nearly melted at being the object of his charms. He found this one to be quite agreeable, she was quite lovely. Unfortunately for him, the beautiful illusion before him was shattered when she spoke. It would not be at all a distortion to say that her voice sounded discordant. That voice could not really come from such a pretty shell; this was too much of an aberration for the prince to deal with. When the song ended he bowed to her gracefully, glad to be free of that startlingly shrill voice.


His fun was beginning to slip away from him, were there no female students at this school that were tolerable for more than a few moments? Was he just too picky? Yes, he decided that his standards were simply so high that he’d never met anyone who could reach them, not that many hadn’t tried. He then began to think of Hermione again, albeit from the strangely neutral place the potion kept him whenever he thought of her.


Draco let his thoughts waltz around Hermione while he continued to dance with the inferior girls who presented themselves for approval from him, approval they would never receive. He thought that she must be an exceptional girl if she could hold his interest and not cause him an inordinate amount of irritation. He tried not to think of her, but he could not help himself it seemed. He must really love her if he still thought of her with such frequency. No, there was no way she’d ever have him! If there had been a way to win her he wouldn’t have given up. That was not the way he wanted to be, he would win her heart! And he would start as soon as the bloody potion wore off.


Draco was eased from this reverie by the touch of an impossibly beautiful young witch in flowing blue robes. She looked like an angel; when he first met her chocolate eyes the look they held seemed to cause the splendor of the Hall to pale, if only for a moment. She was possessed of a grace that could not fairly be compared to that of any living person. She curtsied politely. He took her hand and kissed it lovingly. Her smile was blinding. As the two of them started to dance whispers, both jealous and awed, filled the Hall, which had come to a standstill as the couple danced.


He was terrified to have his vision shattered by asking her a question; his fear proved to be unnecessary. She then began to sing the lyrics to the song playing in a voice so sweet that it threatened to rip his very soul out. He found that he was moved to tears, she had captured the essence of the song and amplified it. She was made even more beautiful by the fact that the passion with which she sang came from some personal tragedy she had been made to endure. Of all the witches with whom Draco had danced that evening, she was the only one who had been daring enough to make herself vulnerable to him. He had to know who she was!


Hermione had a fabulous time at the Halloween Ball; she was surprised that she could have so much fun dancing with so many people who might be strangers, or even enemies in her daily life. Each of them seemed like genuinely nice people, which lead her to believe that members of Slytherin House were not as bad as they pretended to be. For she had to have danced with a few of them and every one of them seemed mannerly enough.


She spent hours enjoying the company of many fine young men, but not one had captured her attention or captivated her so much as Draco had in the last few weeks and months. Well, maybe the striking young wizard she’d noted when she first entered the Hall. It mattered not that at her every glance that his appearance would change; there could be no mistaking the lithe spirit dwelling within the ever-shifting shell. In spite of her enjoyment, the evening seemed to pass slowly.


‘At last!’ she thought as the graceful wizard stepped toward her and took her hand in his. He bowed as formally as was possible as he kissed her hand. She blushed a light pink and curtsied politely. When the song began to play it was instantly clear to all those in attendance that the two were destined to share a great love. Whispers began to fill the Hall, awed and jealous at the sight of true love.


Hermione smiled at her prize as he led her around the dance floor in a manner that seemed to suggest that they were the only two people in the world. In Draco’s mind, at that given moment, they were. When the next song began it was quite apparent that neither Hermione nor Draco would have any other as a dance partner for the evening. The whispers began anew, angry and full of venom, though neither of the two of them took any notice.


It seemed that the couple at the center of the Hall shared an unspoken understanding that ran deeper than words could express. The silence was not at all uncomfortable for either of them. Just when it felt to Hermione that her dance partner needed a little reassurance, she began to sing softly and sweetly. She was startled to see the look of shock and pleasure on his face as she sang.


When the song came to a conclusion the chemistry between the two of them reached a fever pitch, and it seemed that the noise and bustle of the Hall died away and that they were the only two people left in the entire world. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, anything…the intensity of the moment was too much for her to handle.


Draco raised his hand slowly and laid his index finger on her impossibly soft lips. “Sssh,” he said. He was pained not to know the identity of this near perfect woman who had stolen his heart. He leaned forward, trying to recall why this felt so familiar to him, and laid and exquisitely loving kiss on the perfect mouth in front of him. Hermione took a deep breath, after her lips parted those of her mystery man, so that she would have a means of finding him after the evening had passed: by his scent.


For an instant the two of them shivered as they each looked into the eyes of the other; in that instant they saw the spell flicker. Draco would swear that he saw Hermione, as she would swear that she’d seen Draco. He felt his heartbeat quicken and he looked down and whispered, “Hermione?” The commotion covered his whispered suspicion. He cursed the fact that he could not shake the congestion, which could so easily have confirmed his supposition. He decided that there was no point in worrying about it tonight, and he asked her to dance again.


‘Oh my God!’ Hermione thought, ‘It’s Draco! Is this what it would be like to be with him?’ To cover her shock at this revelation she pretended to see a wrinkle in the sleeve of her robes, she smoothed the imaginary wrinkle and turned to face him with a charming smile. This might be the only time she’d get to spend with her love; she intended to make the most of it. She was elated when Draco asked her for another dance. The rest of the Ball passed it this manner; neither of the two was willing to leave the side of the other.