#DRAMIONE || COMPLETE
When Draco Malfoy searches for a girl to accompany him to the Slytherin Ball, the journey was expected to be long and hard.
Inside her heart, Hermione dreamed of attending the Ball with a mature boy who didn't go by the na...
The snow was falling lightly, but enough to lay a thick blanket over the ground and in the trees. Footsteps of students passing were left behind, but soon only became a distant memory as more snow filled the holes.
Draco followed the directions carefully given to him by someone with gracious and curvaceous handwriting and had sent it to him via an owl. It was a surprised at how they weren't even able to approach him in person. But it also struck the idea that it was meant to be a surprise, only exciting Draco even further.
The path down to Hagrids was a little icy, but clearly Hagrid was kind enough to clear the way for anyone who intended on visiting him. However, Draco had recently seen him among the school grounds elsewhere, signally that he and this 'stranger' would be alone.
Well, this 'stranger' had a name that Draco guessed was 'Hermione'. How he knew that? It was a hunch. He knew of her love of the snow and besides, the writing was too neat to be some other dim-witted student that he knew. Pansy's writing was more blocky and symmetrical. So she was ruled out. Crabbe and Goyle weren't even thought of, thus leaving it to Hermione.
The letters curled like the ancient scrolls and books found in the library. It was classic calligraphy – it outlined her high knowledge of such art. It was easy to perform with a simple quill and ink. Although it took practice, Draco suggested that perhaps Hermione put aside time to perfect her writing skills. Nonetheless, it all paid off.
Down on the flat, the snow was a little thicker but fluffier. It fell gracefully onto his lashes and onto his coat, melting away from the beautiful snowflakes to a small, moist spot. Draco remembered trying to catch some on his tongue when he was much more youthful, but even then his father would order him to behave as his mother looked on with disappointment.
He never had a thoughtful childhood. Not many memories were made for him to ponder as he was much older. The years starting at Hogwarts did hold some worth, but if they were compared to his non-existent childhood memoirs, they would be worthless.
He was destined to go to Hogwarts and was told he was to attend. Everything was expected and planned out thoroughly, but ending up Head boy and possibly falling for the most intelligent girl in the school was clearly not. If Draco reported these feelings to his parents, he would be abandoned for having such intentions with a muggle-born. They'd call him dirty as he held the desires to do unruly things with someone who was not a pure-blood like himself.
His parents were stuck in the past, far too much.
Draco looked down at his boots that were covered in snow. And as he took a step back, he glanced at the print he left, knowing soon they'd also be forgotten like the ones up at the school. Sometimes, he thought he'd be forgotten, himself. No one would remember him as the Slytherin Head Boy, or not even as a student at the school. Just like everyone else, he'd leave the as the same man as everyone else.
"What are you thinking of?"
Draco lifted his gaze to the warm smile next to him, as she watched back intriguingly. Draco stifled a chuckle, and looked back down at his feet, but then up to the castle upon the hill. It stood tall and proud, playing a home for hundreds of students, along with himself and Hermione.
"I'm thinking if I'll ever be remembered" he answer distantly, almost like he was still searching for the answer himself. "I don't know if people will look back years from now and say 'Draco Malfoy, the Head Boy of Slytherin' or just look at me as another student. Or maybe not look at me at all..."
The question stretched between then with the crinkling sound of the snow melting away. it was all too quiet, until Hermione's hand slithered into his, sending a symphony of strings and brass that seemed to play from nowhere but his mind.
Draco glanced down at their hands entwined, and spotted Hermione still warmly smiling at him with her lips pressed together and the corners lifted ever so slightly. It was a small smile, but was one of her brightest yet.
"No one will forget you" Hermione whispered. Draco turned to face her slowly, counting the freckles on her nose as her voice soothed his cold soul. "Draco Malfoy, Head Boy of Slytherin. Not to mention, the Head Boy who organised the Slytherin Ball. And they'll all say, 'Ah, yes! The One with the emeralds and flowers and the most beautiful girl by his side.'"
Draco let out a deep laugh, shaking his head and squinting his eyes with amusement. The last part caused it, as he knew that it was true... Well, he hoped it would be true. Otherwise, he would be the 'Head Boy who couldn't even get himself a Date'. What a sad way to go down in history, when yet he wanted to plan such a large and Glamorous evening for the school.
"What?" Hermione questioned, Draco finally wiping away the laughter that bit on his tongue. He shook his head, earning a frown from Hermione, but even she couldn't hide away the smirk that fought towards the surface. "I am pretty sure I am correct. The place will be beautiful and extravagant, and whoever you will take to the ball will be beautiful."
Draco stared at his feet again, his nose scrunched up when he looked through his lashes. "You really think so?"
"I think so."
Strands of hair fell into Hermione's eyes when she nodded her head. It urged Draco to lift his hand to place them behind her ear. He wanted to as it felt like second nature. But with the push of courage from his love-filled heart, he did it. it was ever so tender that Hermione blushed and leaned into his hand slightly.
They stood like that for a moment too long, Draco's hand cupping Hermione's cheek and blush biting at their cheeks. Like two teenagers, they thought they were in love. No trumpets or butterflies, or cupids throwing petals with banners and singing was required to show them their feelings. Just looking into each other's eyes were enough to speak every about every emotion there was.
They were consuming Draco, as he felt like he suddenly needed her. he didn't want to let go as if he were to lose her to the air. But he also needed her warmth. If she left, he would be left as cold as stone and as cruel as their world. He would be a dangerous wizard without her, and he feared for the worse.
So, he kissed her.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Authors Note:
*Mic Dropped*
Literally have nothing to say, as the chapter speaks for itself... (* v *)
