It was as if the stranger’s request to dance made Hermione’s brain begin working properly once more. She turned to face Ginny questioningly, who smiled and nodded. Hermione then turned back to the stranger and wordlessly smiled, taking his offered hand. Maybe, just maybe, this evening would turn out as she had planned. She couldn’t help noting, however, that it was far too early to judge, for the night was not over yet.
Draco smiled back at the girl in the white mask. He led her, still wordlessly, to the dance floor and gently placed his hand on her hip and began to lead her to the music. He wanted desperately to know who she was. After all, how could he make Pansy jealous without a name to go with this masked face? He did not want to be surprised at the end of the evening by her identity. If there was one thing Draco Malfoy hated, it was being surprised.
Worse, what if he didn’t know her when she took off her mask? What if she was some Fifth Year Hufflepuff he had never met before and might have a hard time locating once the dance was over? No. That would not happen to him, not when he had, by what was probably a one in a million chance, managed to find the girl he was looking for. The girl he needed. He was going to get any information he could, as soon as he could.
All he had to do was stop gazing into her eyes.
Hermione let herself be whirled across the Great Hall in rhythm to the Weird Sister’s music. She could not take her eyes off of this masked stranger. She could not break that perfect silence between them.
Yet, she had to know who he was. She had to find him again. Hermione would not allow herself to lose him when she’d only found him. Maybe he had a girlfriend already, why, maybe he was only dancing with Hermione because he was dared by a friend to do so. Hermione, frankly, did not care at the moment. All that mattered was that for a moment, even if it was only a moment, Hermione had somebody to love. She had every intention of making this last so much longer than a moment. She needed to know who he was to make that happen. She just needed to ask.
All she had to do was stop gazing into his eyes.
Draco was the one to finally break the silence. It happened in between songs, when the Weird Sisters were getting ready to switch from the gentle melody they had been playing to a lively tune.
“I do believe it within the rules to ask you what year you're in?” he asked politely, with a smile, shocking himself.
The girl nodded and returned the smile. “Sixth," she said simply. “And you?”
“I am, too,” he replied. “I wish I could ask more.” Dumbledore’s stupid rules, he thought. Why can’t she at least tell me her House?
She smiled. “I know how you feel. It’s like the teachers are condemning us to be the new kids all over again, not knowing anyone. It’s a rather awkward situation, really.”
Draco nodded. He definitely understood that. Even though he had already known a lot of the students when he came to Hogwarts, he did not like not knowing who his friends were and who was an enemy or just someone he did not know at all. “Yes, it’s rather stupid that we can’t even hint at who we are,” he agreed. Draco decided to go out on a limb with his next comment, “But I won’t tell Dumbledore if you don’t.”
The girl looked a bit taken aback for a moment, but then nodded. “It’s not like it would hurt anyone to tell each other our Houses.”
“Of course not!” Draco exclaimed with a smile. Then he had a terrible thought. “You won’t get upset if I’m not in the same House as you are?” he asked worryingly. He couldn’t afford to lose this girl over something that trivial. Not with Pansy on the loose...
Hermione laughed at the idea, thinking immediately he was an embarrassed Hufflepuff, worrying he was talking to one of the prats that thought they were inferior. “No, of course not,” she insisted. “All of the Houses are equal! Except maybe those pampered ‘purebloods’ in Slytherin.” Hermione spat out the word pureblood as if it dripped with poison.
She immediately wanted to take back the words as she saw the boy openly squirming. “Oh, I’m sorry, you’re uncomfortable, aren’t you?” she said quickly. “You see, I think the pureblood, and half-blood, and mudblood system is wrong. I’m not embarrassed to admit that. I’ve been teased enough by…them…” she said, choosing her words carefully so not to offend the poor boy again, “Well, I’d rather not talk about that.”
Draco wanted to curl up and die by the end of this speech. It was obvious that he was not dancing with a pureblood, and definitely not a Slytherin. She might be a half-blood, even a mudblood. But something, he was not sure what, made him stay and continue dancing. He told himself that it was just that he wanted to annoy Pansy. How far would he go to keep Pansy away from him?
That’s when he knew it was not a desperate act to get away from Pansy that was making him dance with this girl, not when she might be…well, almost all Muggle.
So what was it?
This was when Draco realized that she was still waiting for him to reply. “Uh…” he started uncomfortably, “I really don’t think you want to know my House.”
This was when Hermione realized that he was not a Hufflepuff that felt guilty when she talked badly about Slytherins. He probably was a Slytherin. Most likely, then, he was one of those purebloods she had just insulted so terribly.
“Oh.” Hermione said. It was not like her to be monosyllabic, but in this case there was little else to say. It was at times like these when an invisibility spell sounded really good.
“It’s OK,” he was quick to assure her. “You…didn’t know.”
“I shouldn’t have been so judgmental. I’m assuming you’re pureblood?” she asked.
He paused momentarily, and then he nodded, looking like he knew he was about to be dumped.
Hermione was startled by her own thought. I can’t dump him, she thought. You have to be with someone to dump them. I only met him a quarter of an hour ago. His pleading gaze yanked her back to the present. “Well, then, I suppose it’s only fair that you know. I am not a pureblood. I’m Muggle-born. If you don’t want to continue dancing with me, I’ll understand.”
Draco’s worst fears were confirmed. No, he thought, my worst fear would be that this girl is Pansy in disguise. Though…he had to admit, though Pansy was annoying, at least she was pureblood. What was he saying? That he’d rather be with a disgusting and obsessive pureblood than this mudblood who he found so charming with her free mind and obvious knowledge?
How could he answer that question? Draco Malfoy, the hater of mudbloods? But what was that hate based on, really? How many mudbloods had he really known personally? The answer was, of course, none. He didn’t bother to associate with them because they were half-human. This girl was most definitely worthy enough to be pureblood. What did it really matter?
“I’m…okay with that,” he said, not believing the words as they left his mouth, as he instantly realized there was only one way he could have said that.
Draco Malfoy was falling hard for this girl, and he knew it.
Hermione was shocked. Any pureblood Slytherin she had ever known would have quickly taken her offer of leave, and gone off, never to glance back. Malfoy might have gone as far as to spit on her or hex her before he left.
Why on Earth was she thinking of Malfoy? She decided quickly not to spoil her evening with thoughts of that…well, she wouldn’t litter her mind with the dirty words. He wasn’t worth it.
It was hard to think that the boy behind the mask had probably been raised the same way Malfoy had. He obviously had been trained to think less of Muggle-borns like her. After all, if he was in Slytherin he had to have some of the characteristics. Why, knowing how the old wizarding families are all related, it was very possible that he was closely related to Malfoy. They were the same age, they might have even grown up together.
Hermione realized suddenly that she was still thinking about Malfoy. She had to stop that. It suddenly occurred to her that she had every right to just leave now. After all, she had put up with six years of taunting from people who were so much like this boy. How was he any different?
But in her heart, she knew he had to be different. Something made her stay, and she had a pretty good idea of what it was.
Hermione Granger was falling hard for this boy, and she knew it.
A/N: Please review this chapter. More to come soon...