Remain Nameless

Chapter 14

Tomorrow evening's trip to the ballet was not a date. Hermione repeated this to herself the entire week leading up to Saturday. Malfoy had only agreed to go with her because she'd practically begged him to way back in November. He was only fulfilling this social obligation as a favor to a friend.

It was very much not a date. They weren't even having dinner or drinks before the show, just meeting outside the theater.

Then why had her stomach been in knots all week? Why did she feel jittery at the thought of sitting close to Malfoy in a dark theater? And why couldn't she decide on what to wear? Hermione owned a number of lovely dress robes and gowns, and normally before a formal event, she'd pick one at random or let Ginny choose.

For some reason, Hermione hadn't asked Ginny's opinion this time, nor had she decided for herself just yet. Merlin, she hadn't even thought about what to do with her hair! These decisions plagued her day after day, and at the end of her internal struggle the same thought kept rearing its head: this is not a date.

They'd come upon their parting point for the morning and Hermione felt a restless sort of energy coursing through her. The next time she'd see him would be the following evening, presumably all dressed up and among the wizarding public.

"I'm looking forward to the show tomorrow," she offered tentatively. Malfoy let out a small sigh and refused to meet her gaze.

"About that..." he began and Hermione felt her stomach drop. "Are you sure you still want to go?"

Hermione couldn't believe his words. After all that petulant angst he'd given her over choosing to honor her date with Anthony over a night out with him and now he's trying to squirm his way out of their... their... non-date?

"Malfoy you promised! Are you seriously trying to back out now?"

He shook his head swiftly and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Hermione waited while he looked down at the ground and scuffed lightly at the sidewalk with one of his expensive shoes.

He's nervous.

"No, it's just... are you sure you still want to go... with me?"

The anger left her body as Hermione's heart clenched in anguish for him. He was clearly worried about people seeing them together and damaging her reputation. Being friends with Malfoy the past year, she learned that his self-confidence manifested in peaks and valleys, and that in this moment he seemed to be in quite a deep valley.

"Malfoy," she began gently, and didn't continue until he looked her in the eye. "I want to go with you. As my friend you should know that I will hold you to your promises. And as your friend, you should know that I do not care one bit about what other people will think or say about the company I keep."

After a beat, he nodded and offered a small smile. "All right then. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow night."

"I'll hold you to that."

Not a date. This was not a date.

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Draco paced back and forth along the cobblestones at the entrance to the theatre district of wizarding London. He'd arrived early, not being able to stand the deafening silence of his home while he waited for time to pass. Why hadn't he thought to suggest dinner before the show? A little wine might have helped take some of the nervous edge off.

Except there was no reason to be nervously on edge because this was very much not a date. Not a date. Yes he was dressed in very fine black dress robes, but he only owned the finest of robes, so that really wasn't on purpose. Was it on purpose the amount of time you spent in front of the mirror, wondering if Granger preferred your hair a certain way?