Claiming Hermione

The Great Hall was practically glowing with candlelight. Around the entire perimeter of the room, five tiered layers of candles had been placed with the shortest tier coming to just under Hermione’s chin and the tallest at least a foot over Hagrid’s head. A low, misty looking fog that glowed eerily around a revealed full moon mostly obscured the enchanted ceiling. All the tables were covered in black sparkling cloth and enormous glistening spider webs hung in the dark corners. The overall effect was warm, cozy and slightly ominous. Hermione thought it was perfect.

“Oh, Hermione! You so look beautiful!” the littlest redhead launched herself at Hermione.

Ginny had wanted to Hermione to get ready with her, Lavender and Parvati, but she turned down the invitation. All the giggling and primping made her way too anxious and they always tried to get her to wear more makeup, do something wild with her, or any number of things that would make her feel like an imposter.

“Thanks, Ginny. So do you!” Hermione replied taking in her blue and green sequined dress and deep red lips. Her dress was feathered along the long hem like her mask and with Ginny’s long red wavy hair and alluring eyes, she looked more like a siren then a mere mermaid. Harry was didn’t stand a chance.

Lavender came rushing up to them in a flamingo pink-feathered dress that clashed horridly with her complexion and a haggard looking Ron in furry black robes and cat mask was trailing behind her.

“Hermione! I’m so glad you’re finally here!” Lavender threw her long arms around Hermione and she obligingly hugged her back. Lavender’s easy familiarity always struck Hermione as forced. It was like she was playing at being best friends with everyone and most people were so flattered by the tall beauty’s attentions, that they accepted her friendship as genuine. Hermione, on the other hand, just felt kind of used. But, Lavender wasn’t a bad person, and Hermione was positive that she wasn’t even aware of her behavior, so she did her best to be kind and keep her less-than-generous thoughts at bay.

Hermione hugged Ron briefly and ask about Harry’s whereabouts. No sooner had she asked, than Harry walked up behind her and handed a tumbler of juice to Ginny. “Hullo, ‘Mione!” Harry said brightly. “You look great.” He kissed her on the cheek and promptly asked, “Now, Miss Granger, care to tell us why you turned down, not one, not two, but THREE dates to this thing?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and wondered how he’d found out. “Well, would you all have me spend the entire evening listening to Terry Boot regale me with not just history, but the history of Quidditch, my favorite subject, as you know? Or, would you rather I spend the night defending you, Harry, to Zacharias Smith who thinks he would make a much better boy-who-lived?”

Harry snorted into his cup and muttered something like, “I’d happily give up the post.”

“Or, best of all, maybe I would be better off spending my time evading Seamus’s ever-wandering hands? ” she said good naturedly. “I don’t need to date to come to a dance that I am going to leave the first chance I get, Harry.”

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Draco was lazily scanning the busy room as Pansy and Daphne and a fifth year girl he didn’t know gossiped excitedly. Goyle and Zabini were entrenched in their never-ending debate of which was the superior sport: Quidditch or Quadpot. Unsurprisingly, Crabbe had already discovered the delights of the snack table and was concentrating on a chocolate muffin.

“Whoa! Check out the mudblood.” Crabbe said thickly with his mouth full. They turned in unison in the direction Crabbe was staring.

“So what. She’s probably whoring herself in the hope that some fool will lower themselves long enough to pop her shriveling cherry.” Blaise was apparently feeling especially vindictive and Draco grimaced inwardly at the image he’d painted.

With no more than a quick glance in her direction, Draco placed his hand at the base of Daphne’s back and gently led her to the dance floor.

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“Oh Hermiiineee!” Lavender stomped her foot like a three year old. “But, we put so much work into this! You haven’t even seen the rose garden or the courtyard yet!”

“I’m sorry, Lav, I guess I’m just not feeling especially social this evening. It does look beautiful. You both did a splendid job, thank you for all your hard work. And I will check out the gardens. First though, I think I need to find Padma and thank her for a job well done also.” Hermione glanced around the room.

“I think she’s dancing with Dean over by the stage.” Ginny supplied.

“Okay, I’m off then. See you all soon. Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.” And with that she made her way through the large hall toward the platform where the professors and Dumbledore normally sat. When she got to the front of the room, sure enough, Padma was dancing to a rock song with Dean. They seemed very focused on each other and Hermione stood off to the side patiently waiting her chance.
Just as the song was ending, the shadow of a tall figure loomed over her left shoulder. “Miss Granger, you are looking absolutely dazzling this evening. I trust you are having a good time?” The twinkling eyes of the Headmaster peeked out from a large and very colorful feathered mask that matched his robes.

“Yes. Professor. Everything looks wonderful and everyone seems to be having a great time.” she replied smiling back at him. A slower song began and Hermione shot a quick glance over to Padma who was already swaying in Dean’s arms.

“Miss Granger. Would you do me the honor?” the old man asked holding out his arm to her.

“Certainly Professor.” She beamed and took his arm.

“I’m glad to see that your accident hasn’t hindered you.”

“No Professor, other than a small bruise, I’m perfectly well.”
“Excellent. Now, tell me, Miss Granger, how do you find your position as Head Girl? Is everything going the way you had hoped?”

“It’s going really well. Now that the prefects are all sorted out, things are running very smoothly.”

“And your Head Boy? I know you’ve had a, shall we say ‘strained’, relationship with young Mr. Malfoy in the past. Have you two found a way to work together reasonably well?”

Hermione thought for a minute before answering. “Actually, Professor, I have to say that Malfoy has been unbelievably dedicated. I can’t believe how well the projects he’s taken on have been turning out.”

“Well, Miss Granger, perhaps you would be less surprised if you remembered that he does have the second highest scores in the school, after you, of course. And,” Dumbledore continued more somber, “I dare say, Mr. Malfoy has had a much more difficult year on top it. I’m sure he’s had to do some reevaluating.”

“Yes.” Hermione replied softly, wondering how true that statement was and also feeling humbled by the reminder of Malfoy’s academic standing.

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Draco moved his date gracefully around the dance floor in perfect time with the music. His mother had insisted that every well-bred, pureblooded wizard should be able to dance and thus, had given him years of private lessons. Rather than resent this, he’d found that it was one of his abilities that paid off with young ladies. It was also a skill that few boys his age possessed which made him quite happy to use it every chance he got. The years of moving rhythmically with the music had paid off in bed as well.

Daphne had been a good choice. She was tall, very easy on the eyes, wasn’t prone to giggling, and most importantly, she would leave him alone. The disaster that was Pansy had made Draco exceptionally careful about who he paid attention to. Clingy girls were intolerable and those that seemed to have designs on becoming Mrs. Draco Malfoy made him feel bitter. Daphne, though, was smitten over a bloke who’d graduated two years prior and didn’t want anything more from Draco than a few dances and couple compliments that were given easily enough. They made out occasionally and had fucked often enough, when they both needed a release without any attachment, but they hadn’t touched each other this year and that was okay with both of them. She was also very independent and if Draco felt like leaving early, all he’d have to do is bid her goodnight.

For the second half of the song, Daphne moved in closer to him, relaxing their formal dance position, and laid her head on his chest. Draco moved his hands to her waist and pulled her a little tighter. It was good to feel someone up against him again. Since his parents’ murder he’d lost the love of the chase and he’d put himself in a kind of hibernation as far as girls went, which isn’t to say that he didn’t have a healthy wank almost every day. He was, after all, a seventeen year-old male.

With Daphne cuddled into his chest, he looked out over the crowd in front of him. A few wizards maintained formal dance positions, but most mirrored Draco’s, probably not knowing how to dance formally in the first place. The tall figure of Albus Dumbledore was in his direct line of sight, though all he saw of him was his back. But then, at the start of the bridge, he made a quarter turn and the profiled silvery dress of Hermione Granger glittered in front of him.

The first time she had done it was at the Yule Ball in fourth year. Her transformation had stunned virtually everyone, Draco included, which rankled him to no end. But, what really got him was how she managed to keep surprising everyone. Every year there was at least one ball, and every year, the moment the Gryffindor Princess walked into the room, a brief period of suspended animation seemed to fall over the crowd. Tonight was no different. One minute she wasn’t there and the next everyone was gob smacked by her absolute sexiness. Draco didn’t like it one bit.

They were happily conversing and moving effortlessly. Granger’s head was tilted back looking up at the tall wizard as they spoke. She had a gentle smile on her face and he was drawn to her glossy lips that kept glinting in the candlelight. He let his eyes roam over her petite body and saw at once that his thoughts about her looking like a little girl were far from accurate. Divested of her loose robes, and encased in silver, Draco was surprised to find an almost womanly body. Her tanned legs made brief appearances from the slits in her dress, and her strappy silver heels accentuated her shapely calves. Draco wondered if her numerous adventures with Potter and Co. had made her physically stronger than most girls (save Quidditch players, obviously). Her hips were a bit too narrow to call womanly, but when Dumbledore turned her another quarter turn, presenting him with her backside, he concluded that Granger had the most perfect ass he’d ever seen. ‘Well, for a mu..ggleborn, anyway’ he told himself. He moved one hand up Daphne’s back as his eyes moved up Granger’s bare back. She had delicate shoulder blades and she held her arms out at perfect angles, one small hand resting on the Headmaster’s arm, and the other hooked onto his open palm. She had removed her mask (which reminded Draco to do the same as soon as the song was over) and she held it loosely between two fingers, the long ribbons floating down over her hand. Her hair was pulled up again, and again, it made her neck seem long and elegant. His mind suddenly shifted to an image of his mother’s neck, pale and long, with a thin platinum chain she always wore. A small dragon charm with diamond eyes hung from it. Draco’s eyes focused again on Hermione’s neck, but the only thing that rested there were two small soft curly ringlets that were presumably too short to be swept up into the gathering of honey-colored curls twisted at the back of her head. Continuing his upward perusal, Draco was caught off guard by a pair of blue eyes looking right at him. Draco’s cheeks flushed against his will and Dumbledore nodded kindly, and all too knowingly, and Draco gave him a small guilty smile and a nod back before promptly turning Daphne a full turn on the floor.

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When the song ended, Dumbledore bid Hermione a gracious farewell and left her to seek out her original goal. She quickly interrupted Padma before the next song began.

“Merlin, Hermione! You look splendid!” Padma said embracing her and then holding her arms out to give her a once over. “You’re going to have tell the guys to get in line!”

A skeptical smile spread on Hermione’s face. “Thanks, Padma. You look pretty amazing yourself. I see someone won’t let you out of their sight.” She said inclining her head toward a bashful looking Dean. Padma smiled shyly and looked at the floor. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you what a spectacular job you and Lavender did in here. It looks absolutely amazing!”

“Oh, thank you, but I have to tell you, it was mostly Draco. He’s really got great taste. He did let Lav go a little crazy in the courtyard, though, and the spider webs were my idea.” Dean made a small coughing noise and Hermione figured she should let the two get back to making eyes at each other.

“Well, it looks wonderful and I wanted to thank you. Have fun tonight!” She winked at the Patil twin, hugged her and began making her way back to her friends. Half way across the dance floor, Hermione’s progress was halted by the dark haired Michael Corner asking her to dance. She really didn’t want to, but she also didn’t want to be mean, and since she couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse and the song was half over anyway, she agreed.

As the song was ending, Hermione noticed Terry Boot staring at her anxiously just a few feet away. She groaned inwardly, knowing what was coming, and thanked Michael for the dance.

“Hermione, I know you didn’t come with me, but I was hoping we might still have a dance together?”

“Of course, Terry” she replied hoping one dance would appease him for a while. Terry Boot had indeed asked Hermione to the dance which she had politely turned down. She hadn’t made up any excuses and just thanked him for the “nice offer”. Since the beginning of the year he had been not so subtly flirting with her, and while he was okay looking, somehow every conversation they had ended up being about the history of Quidditch. Hermione had not been exaggerating. Determined to avoid the topic tonight, Hermione peppered Terry with questions ranging from the decorations to Ravenclaw to the quality of the food at Hogwarts. When the song ended, she politely made a quick goodbye and left a somewhat dazed Boot staring after her.

With a relaxed, but intent stride she attempted to make her way to her friends once again. About six more steps from the edge of the dance floor, she felt a hand on her upper arm. Oh, for crying out loud! she thought turning abruptly. But she sighed in relief and smiled as she took in Harry’s amused smile.
“Miss Hermione Granger,” he said dramatically as he took her hand and bowed slightly, “would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

She laughed at his over the top gesture, “Of course, Harry. Who would turn down the famous Boy Who Lived?” She smirked at him.

Harry scowled at her, but didn’t respond to that remark. He led her a bit further onto the dance floor and then twirled her into his embrace with a smile.

“Ooh, Mr. Potter, your dancing skills have improved, I see.” She teased, and they both had a good laugh remembering his stumbling dance steps at the Yule Ball.

It was nice to dance with her best friend. She had been feeling like the three of them were slipping away from each other. Pairing off did have a tendency to do that, she supposed. Her best friends were both tall handsome men and of course it was inevitable that they’d find girlfriends (and hopefully, she’d find a boyfriend). But she was a little afraid that she would no longer have a place in their lives. With her head resting comfortably on Harry’s chest, she realized that no matter who came into their lives, or where they ended up in the world, they would always be friends. No matter what. She lifted her head and looked at Harry questioningly. He gave her a charming, boyish smile in response.

“What is it Hermione?”

“Harry, promise me, that no matter what happens, no matter who we dating, or what jobs we have, or where we end up living, that we will always be best friends.”

“Of course, love. Always.” He kissed her on the forehead and she laid her cheek back on his chest.

“’Mione, there’s something I have to tell you.” Hermione’s head shot up, suddenly wary of the nervous tone in Harry’s voice.” Harry looked held her gaze for a moment before taking a breath and continuing. “It’s about Ron, actually… He’s going to proposed to Lavender tonight.”

Hermione’s feet stopped moving and she blinked a few times before her mouth started working again. “But…but, he’s only seventeen!”

“I know, but you know, they do it differently in the wizarding world. And they do seem to get along really well.”

Hermione spluttered, “Well, yeah but... but… that’s a really big step. I mean…wow. Do you think she is going to accept?”

Harry sighed in a way that made Hermione think she wasn’t the only who wasn’t wild about Ron’s girlfriend. “I’ve a pretty good guess that she will.”

Hermione squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Well, good for him then! I’m happy for him.” Harry gave her a weak smile that said he didn’t really believe her, then pulled her head back down to his chest.

“Ron will always be your best friend too, Hermione. Always.” She nodded against his chest and they swayed in silence until the song ended.

“Harry, when is Ron going to do this?”

Harry looked toward a small group gathered by a window. “Um, my guess is he is about to do it right now.”

“Let’s go!” she said energetically and dragged him over to the window where Ginny, Parvati, Seamus, Padma and Dean (holding hands, she noted) were huddled. Peeking over Ginny’s head she could see Ron and Lavender walking to the center of the courtyard.

Padma was right, Lavender did go all out with the decorations outside. Paper bats were zooming through the air overhead and fake spiders hung on shiny strands from just about every tree branch. And something she couldn’t quite make out was slithering in the dirt along the bushes. But, it definitely was not a snake.

“Harry, isn’t Ron scared of spiders?” Dean asked.

Harry snickered with a wicked grin. “Terrified, mate. Terrified.” The group collectively chuckled and giggled.

Ron looked terrified indeed, and kept swiveling his head around. Lavender, on the other hand, was oblivious to Ron’s state and was chattering on. Hermione pasted a smile on her face to match the smiles of her friends, but anyone who looked carefully could see that it didn’t make it to her eyes. Finally, Ron stopped Lavender in the center of the courtyard, clear of any tree branches overhead and could be seen kneeling down on one knee. For one moment a look of confusion crossed Lavender’s face but was quickly replaced by unrestrained glee. Though they couldn’t hear Ron’s proposal, the answer was obvious as Ron stood up and Lavender threw her arms around Ron’s neck, hopping up and down excitedly.

Well, okay, good. I guess they are right for each other. And why shouldn’t they be happy? Hermione told herself, but a hollow spot in her chest was aching dully. She thought she had made peace with the fact that Ron was more like a brother to her, and so she guessed she was jealous of their happiness. Not that she was unhappy, but now, with Ron engaged and Harry and Ginny well on their way, she felt a little lonely. That’s all, just a little lonely.

Hand in hand Ron and Lavender came through the small door from the courtyard where the group waiting eagerly at the window promptly attacked them. Hugs were given all around and Lavender showed off her dainty ring as if were a ten carat diamond.
Hermione kissed Ron on the cheek and told him how truly happy for him she was, and also reminded him that married men were not to forget their best friends. A celebration in the Gryffindor common room was declared and the group departed. Hermione, however, as Head Girl, couldn’t leave the dance quite so early, so she sent them off without her with instructions to have wonderful time.

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An hour after the departure of Potter and Co., Blaise grumbled out of the Great Hall to go change before his detention with Filch. Pansy was left pouting at one of the small tables, even though she knew her date would have to leave early. Daphne sat next to her, trying to console her. Although Draco normally enjoyed the chance to show off his superior dancing skills, his impeccable sense of style, and his good looks, tonight he was growing impatient to leave.

“Draco,” Pansy’s voice always grated on him, but currently it was like broken glass, “Now I’ve no one to dance with.” Draco looked down at a pouting Pansy Parkinson with a cool expression. “Daph said you would dance with me. Come on Draco, don’t make me beg.” God, that was the last he wanted, her begging. He raised his eyebrow at his date who returned a mischievous, knowing smile. Fine. He’d get her back for that one.

Draco led Pansy to the dance floor and swept her up elegantly in a modified waltz. He skillfully tuned out her prattling, responding when needed to make her think he was listening. He did manage to catch Zabini’s name more than once and he wondered if she had a thing for the dark Slytherin. He scanned the room lazily over her shoulder, taking in the pairings that had developed and the little crowds of drama that were inevitable at functions such as this, as well as the absence of the Head Girl.

Four more dances with his date were all Draco could manage before kissing Daphne’s hand (he did have a reputation to uphold) and taking his leave. As he exited the Great Hall he debated what do with himself. It was way to early to go to bed on a Friday night, but he was also feeling rather unsocial. The Slytherin common room would no doubt be noisy and rowdy, so that was out of question. He decided on the HCR on the off chance that Granger was there (with a book in her hand, no doubt, he thought wryly) and he could torment her. And if not, well, you never know what you will find in the halls of Hogwarts after a dance.

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Draco was vaguely disappointed that he didn’t come across anything more interesting than a couple of fifth year girls giggling outside the charms classroom. But his disappointment was forgotten as he stepped into the fire lit HCR. The sound of loud banging could be heard from the little kitchenette. He shut the door quickly to find the most shocking thing he’d ever seen in all his time at Hogwarts.

Hermione Granger, Gryffindor ice princess, was stumbling around barefoot in the darkened kitchenette, in her silver dress, slamming cupboard doors with one hand and a bottle of firewhiskey dangling by it’s neck in the other.

Foregoing composure completely, Draco just stood gaping at her, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open, until she noticed him.

“I can’t find any fucking glasses.” She huffed in exasperation as she closed the cupboard. “Oh, fuck it!” She said and took a large swig right out the bottle. Granger, drunk? And cussing? Oh, this is going to be good!