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Chapter Sixteen:

As always the Malfoy's have outdone themselves. The walls are decorated with pretty and intricate snowflakes, ranging from tiny ones about the size of a hair's width to humongous ones the size of an average house -- they glint silver whenever you stare at them for a few seconds too long. Trees loom around them, pale and white and without any leaves. They are shiny and large and their thin twigs reach all the way up towards the archway of the ceiling. From the ceiling come lanterns shaped like stars, they glow dimly as they float about.

Children dressed in colourful robes and glittering ball gowns run around the hall, giggling loudly as they tumble around the strict adults. Behind them trail two tired looking maids, apologising to the guests as they do so.

Tables are filled with rich food, sweet, salty, savoury -- Harry spots his beloved treacle tart on a beautiful silver tray and makes a beeline straight for it, only to be stopped short by a hand wrapping itself tightly around his wrist.

"Harry," Hermione sighs, long and deep, suffering really. "Where do you think you're going?"

"'Mione," Harry says, turning back around to face the girl with a large smile. "Have I mentioned how wonderful you look today?" He asks, batting his eyelashes innocently.

Hermione gives him a deadpan look, not quite believing him. It's the truth though. Her robes are pale, blue and purple. They're shiny and silk-like, held together by a silver clasp in the front that's shaped like a crown. Below her robes, Hermione is dressed in a nice, soft looking, baby blue coloured dress. It's short in the front and long at the back. There are purple butterflies gliding lazily across the blue material and when Hermione so much as moves, their wings flutter with life.

"Really," Harry let's his smile soften, his voice quiet between them, "I'd say even breathtaking."

Hermione flushes and ducks her head, the silver clips in her curly hair glinting with the movement. "Alright. Alright." She grumbles, "let's politely introduce ourselves to the Malfoy's and then I'll take you to the treacle tart."

"Yes ma'am."

Harry easily -- ahem, okay, eagerly -- tucks his arm around Hermione's and guides her from the overly large doors of the ball room towards the three Malfoy's stood at the greeting area just to the side of it. A small group of Wizards and Witches just finish their gossip with the trio when they duck their heads and head off into the ballroom.

The moment Draco spots them, the dead look in his eyes brightens with life. His expression flickers between excitement and... something that resembles worry.

Not batting an eye and sensing something off, Harry grins at him. He greets with a bow of his head, Hermione following his movements, "Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy, Dra-," his words get cut off as Draco engulfs both him and Hermione into a sudden and tight hug.

"Not safe," Draco hushes between them, voice muffled and words quick, grip momentarily tightening even more. He then quickly pulls back, a large grin plastered across his lips. "Harry! Hermione! So glad the two of you could make it."

Hermione blinks, a slow, confused flutter of her lashes and Harry leans into her side with a laugh, covering her expression from the older Malfoy's. "Miss us that much, did you?"

"Apparently," Hermione rolls her eyes. "Can't even go a few weeks without us, can you, Draco?" She banters like she's been friends with the young Malfoy for years and wow , Harry is so proud of her for catching on.

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