A/n- A little snippet of something I've thought up. Oneshot only, I mean it this time! Teehee. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Seriously? Seriously?

Summary: Yule Ball. All Hermione wanted was to dance at the Ball, a nice slow dance in the arms of someone who cared. But all she got was a foreign blockhead and both her friends being furious at her. Will she get her wish? Dramione.


Hermione crumpled onto the steps, tears leaking out of her eyes to splash down onto her lap.

With a pained motion she reached down to slide off her shoes.

Right foot first.

Left foot next.

If she kept focusing on those shoes, perhaps the world would cease to exist all together and then none of this would have happened.

Someone nearly knocked her over as they stumbled wearily up the stairs, arm hooked around their partner.


Oh god.

Hermione looked up, rivulets of tears running down her cheeks.


Stooping low she gathered up her shoes; hiking her dress up she practically ran out of the Entrance Hall and down a nearby corridor just before Krum rounded the doorway.

Hermione leaned against the wall as she walked, tears still stinging her eyes. She couldn't ever face them again- Harry and Ron- what would they think of her?

She sniffed.

Hermione didn't even realize where her feet were taking her until she was facing the Library a few minutes later.

Looking up at the large doors, Hermione felt her spirits rise just a fraction.

No one would be here tonight, not with the Ball.

Creaking the door open she ventured inside, dropping her healed shoes by Madam Pince's vacent desk.

Walking slowly into the din, Hermione stepped from pooled moonlight to pooled moonlight as columns of chalky whiteness stained the floor in long troughs; filtered in through the tall windows.

Standing in the middle of one of those pools, Hermione looked upwards at the full moon emerging from the clouds above. The snow on the ground made the land glow more ethereal then usual.

She could still hear the slow music through the walls.

Twirling around on the spot, Hermione soaked up that moonlight, feeling her tears ebb a fraction, the pale illumination drying them upon her cheeks.

"All I wanted…" She murmured to no one, eyes closed, slowly turning on the spot, hands out to an invisible partner. "Was to dance like beautiful woman on the arm of a beautiful man."

Her voice echoed off the walls, the musical notes of it mingling and mixing with the treble and base of the band a corridor down.

"I would hardly call that brute of a man beautiful," a voice drawled out from behind her.

Hermione whirled around, nearly crashing into a chair, arms still out in front of her.

Malfoy stood, tie undone around his neck, shirt un-tucked, leaning against the far wall of the Library, one of Hermione's delicate heels in his hands.

He turned it over and over, marveling at the way its pinkish hue seemed so dull in the darkness.

"Go away," Hermione half order, half pleaded, albeit weakly.

"No," he smirked, looking up at her, dropping her shoe back onto the ground next to its pair.

"Look, I just want to be alone."

"No you don't, Granger. Although, I can see why you would be, mudblood," Malfoy's arms crossed over his chest. "I heard you practically begging the night not to leave you alone."

Hermione turned away from him, propping herself up atop a table, her rosy dress creasing under her.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Followed you."

Hermione let out a hoarse little laugh, sniffing in dried tears.

"Why on earth would you follow me?"

Malfoy shrugged, running a hand through his white-blond hair.

"You're the perfect end to my perfect night, Malfoy," she uttered sarcastically, " I didn't think it could get worse- then you show up. Utterly perfect..."

Malfoy dropped his hands and moved a few steps toward her, walking round the table she sat upon. He stepped into a bright pool of moon shadow, opposite Hermione, and leaned against a book case.

"I am perfect, aren't I Granger?"

Hermione smiled bitterly.

"Ah, you see?" He said, a slight smirk cresting his pale lips. " Not teary any more, are we? All smiles?"

Hermione said nothing.

"I don't care, you know," Malfoy continued, "cry yourself silly, Granger. Go off yourself, I wouldn't mind."

"Then why did you follow me?" Hermione laid her hands on the table, chin tilted down, eyes lingering on the blonde.

Malfoy pushed off the books, standing a little closer to the table and gave no answer.

Slowly, he raised his hand to her.

She looked at him inquiringly.

"Dance with me?"

Hermione smirked, uttering a panicked little laugh.

"Here?" She said, gesturing around at the dusty volumes.

Malfoy dipped his chin fractionally, something close to a nod.

Hermione bit her lip, listening for a few long moments at the music through the walls.

"All- all right."

She dropped her hand into his, her chilled skin warmed by his delicate grasp.

Pulled off the table, they were both bathed in light, the moonbeams making Malfoy's hair look completely white. His gray eyes held hers, lingering.

Hermione drew a shuttering breath.

Without a word he dropped a hand to her waist, the other still grasping her delicate fingers. Hermione did the same and after all the dancing she had done that night, she found that in his embrace, she knew not what to do.

Malfoy pulled her a little closer and Hermione could smell the burnt almond wood from the Common Room hearths lacing his dress robes.

Before she could register how tight his hand had become around her middle, they we're moving.

He lead, but not as forcefully as Krum had.

He allowed her to take a few bold moves toward him, only after to recount her steps with a few quick paces of his own.

She twirled, only once, out from his grasp, then back towards him, landing against his chest fully- his pull so powerful.

"I-" She started, embarrassed at their closeness.

"Shh," Malfoy whispered, turning round again, smirking, Hermione still against him.

They moved, the sound of music bleeding in through the walls and ceiling. Their feet stirred up the silver silt upon the ground, Malfoy taking extra care not to move his black loafer over Hermione's pale toes.

Three songs had gone by then and they hadn't stopped.

But then, the last song wound down, and as the loan note carried, they heard clapping from the room beyond.

The Ball was coming to an immediate close.

Still, it took the pair a good thirty seconds to slow. Hermione found she couldn't resist dancing, the ache in her legs having vanished the second she took ahold of the boy's hand.

But then they had stopped, even if they both still felt as if they the world were revolving on without them.

"I-" Hermione uttered again, stepping away just so they weren't touching, but so he still held her. "Thank you, Draco."

Malfoy dropped her waist but held her hand to his lips. He did not kiss them but instead spoke against her fingers.

"Are you happy now?"

Hermione didn't answer, but watched him with widening eyes.

"Don't cry any longer, Granger."

Malfoy pulled her hand away and leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss upon her forehead.

Moving from her, he rounded the Library table, a hand brushing the top of the varnished wood. Hermione turned her head to watch him, feet rooted to the spot.

Malfoy did not utter another word, yet, smiling a fraction, he turned to leave, stepping over her shoes and grasping the door handle.

With a final glance and flashy grin he wrenched the door open and left as easily as silver smoke against the wind.

Hermione turned back around again, leaning against the table, watching the moon shine brightly in the sky.

She felt beautiful.


A/n- yet another idea I just had to type out.

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