Exception Chapter 4: Forbidden Dance

[greywolfheir]

A look at Dramione behind the scenes of the Harry Potter series. This one's super long because I combined the two chapters (it's split up into two parts on ff.net and ao3)

From the protection of the trees, Draco watched the Death Eaters, one of them his own father, cause complete havoc in the campsite of the World Cup. He knew he should be amused, but the thought of one particular Muggle-born worried him.
Ironically, he heard the voice of this Muggle-born anxiously asking about the fate of the Weasel. When her wand lit up, and Draco saw her, frightened but unharmed, he knew he had to make his presence known, and what better way than to insult Weasley. Then, as soon as he could, he made sure they knew how much danger Hermione was in.

"…You wouldn't like her spotted, would you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco saw the anger in her eyes, and knew she wasn't getting his message.

"Granger, they're after Muggles," Draco said, trying to give the meaning in his eyes instead of his voice so as not to give too much away to Potter and Weasley. He seemed to be doing a good job of it, based on Potter's reaction.

"Hermione's a witch," he snarled.

"Have it your way, Potter. If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are." Draco knew that his father would recognize Hermione right away.

"You watch your mouth," Weasley yelled. This enraged Draco. Could they not tell that he was trying to warn them? Were they that stupid? He nearly yelled at them, but Hermione spoke first, and her words made Draco relax immediately.

"Never mind, Ron," she said, trying to stop him from attacking Draco. He looked at her again, and they locked eyes. She knew what he was doing, if the rest of them didn't.

Draco, relieved, kept up his usual unpleasantness until they finally ran off, and he couldn't help but say, "Keep that big bushy head down, Granger."

It was the closest he could get to, Stay safe, Hermione.

Hermione's head was whirling as she raced through the forest again. She knew Draco had been warning her and she was grateful for it, but another thought ran through her head-something Harry had said before they left Draco. Where're your parents? Out there wearing masks, are they?

That would explain everything. That was why Draco wasn't scared and why he thought the Death Eaters would recognize her. What she didn't understand, though, was why Draco was trying to protect her in the first place. Did he not believe in his father's own mantras? Or was it just Hermione that Draco was worried about? The latter seemed most likely, as she thought of the cruel way he'd laughed at the Muggles. It didn't give Hermione satisfaction to know this; in fact it made her feel sick. That was the precise reason why Hermione again shoved it away.

It seemed that her relationship with Draco consisted of that action, shoving away thoughts of him, thoughts inspired by veiled meanings. She was sure that she had to have some interpretations wrong, surely, Draco wasn't skilled enough to put that much meaning in such cruel statements as he did. Well, whatever the meaning before, Hermione thought, Draco was definitely trying to protect me tonight.

And this thought was the only one that didn't get shoved to the depths of her mind.

It was all Draco could do not to run from Moody's office in horror. It was the most bizarre experience of his life, being a ferret-and not in a good way. And to be flung around by Moody's wand was that much more bizarre-and probably the scariest thing Draco had been through.

Briskly walking through the halls, Draco spotted Pansy, who must have been unaware of the ferret incident, as she didn't even mention it, nor Hermione, who she ranted on about constantly. Instead, she was smiling mischievously.

"You'll never believe what I told Skeeter," Pansy said excitedly.

"What did you tell Skeeter?" Draco said in monotone to cover up his terror at the memories of ferret-hood.

Pansy ignored the lack of interest. "I just told her that Potter's in love with Granger!"

That got Draco's attention, though he immediately smothered any signs that may have shown on his face and said, "Only a child would think that's funny, Pansy-I mean, how often have we heard that before?"

"Well, she got the 'proof' from a Gryffindor-Creevy," Pansy said reluctantly.

"I don't know, Pansy, we'll see," Draco said, and continued down the hall without another word.

Hermione knew it was an accident, that Draco hadn't pointed his want at her directly, but she couldn't help but think that her teeth "problem" was his fault. After all, he had just made another Mudblood jab and Harry was defending her. Though she had tried to warn Harry against it.

Hermione didn't necessarily think of the jinx that had hit her as bad, not any more. Sure, Pansy still shrieked to whoever would listen that Hermione looked like a beaver or something along those lines. But to have gotten her teeth to look normal, not buckteeth in any way, Hermione felt like she'd drunk a dose of Felix Felicius.

This was probably why, when she saw Krum in the library, Hermione sat within speaking distance. The fan-girls hadn't arrived yet, so Hermione felt peaceful enough. She expected him to studiously ignore her, as always, but he looked up.

"Miss Granger?" he asked.

Hermione almost didn't respond, she was so shocked. "Oh, er, yes?"

"I haf been trying to ask you for a vile, but I haf never gotten the chance until now," he said.

"To ask me…what exactly?" Hermione asked, getting nervous.

"Vill you go to the Yule Ball vith me?"

Hermione hesitated, sure that she'd misunderstood his accent.

"Do I want to…go to the ball with you?" Hermione asked.

Krum nodded.

Hermione hesitated again, but as she felt she wouldn't get asked by anyone else, she could only reply with, "Of course."

Draco walked through the procession with everyone else, Pansy at his side. The events leading to their being dates to the ball were really uneventful. Pansy asked Draco, and Draco accepted without thought because, after all, he didn't care about silly things like Yule Balls, as he'd been to so many as a child with his father and mother.

Draco, bored by the formality, looked around at the others-the champions specifically. He passed his eyes over them one-by-one. He noted that Krum's expression had a tiny bit less brooding about it. Draco's eyes flitted to Krum's date, which he assumed was why he was happier. The girl was definitely pretty. It was no wonder-

Draco did a double-take. Almost unrecognizable with her bushy hair smoothed, Hermione Granger was dancing from one foot to the other in anxiety. Her dress robes made her look beautiful. No, everything made her look beautiful. She was like a new person, only…not.

"Draco, who are you looking at? Draco? Hello-Draco! Draco!" Pansy jabbed Draco in the ribs, making him jump.

"Pansy, what-"

"You were looking at Fleur, weren't you?" Pansy interrupted him. "She's part vela, so that would make sense. Yes, of course, that was it."

Not wanting Pansy to know who he was really looking at, Draco just nodded, but he kept casting glances in Hermione's direction throughout the dinner, and indeed between dances. It was just such an occasion when Draco saw Hermione standing all alone. Making a quick excuse to Pansy, Draco hurried over to her.

Without even asking, Draco took her hand and pulled her to the dance floor. He ignored her squeak of surprise when she saw him, and immediately said, "You look quite lovely tonight."

"I-er, thanks," she said, turning pink. "You look nice as well."

"Nice?" Draco asked, spinning Hermione around as the dance called for.

"Excuse me for being at a loss of words right now," Hermione said with amusement.

"Oh no, I completely understand, after seeing you," Draco said.

"I'm not sure Pansy would appreciate you saying that," said Hermione with a glance in Pansy's direction. She was dancing with Blaise Zabini.

"Pansy isn't here, is she?" Draco said mischievously.

"How do you stand all that shrieking?" Hermione asked suddenly as she and Draco turned together.

"You learn to ignore it," Draco answered. "But I didn't ask you to this dance so that we could talk about Pansy."

"I don't exactly remember you asking, exactly."

"That's beside the point. Anyway, I was wondering if you gave any thought to our conversation in the library."

"Oh, you mean the one before I slapped you for making fun of Hagrid?" Hermione asked icily. "Besides, Mudbloods are off limits for you, aren't we?"

"Do you remember what I called you on our first train ride to this school?" Draco said, making sure their eyes were locked together.

"Er…besides Mudblood, no," Hermione said with a quizzical expression on her face.

"You're an exception, Granger," Draco said. "In every way."

They were inches from each other, toe-to-toe. The song had ended, only the murmur of the crowd around them as the lights changed. Draco wasn't sure what he'd been about to do-kiss her most likely-when Pansy's voice shoved its way into his befuddled brain. He stepped back, and just managed to hear Hermione say something about talking to Harry and Ron.

Hermione ran from her argument with Ron, not knowing exactly where she was going. Tears were blurring her vision as she ran down a hall, so she didn't know someone else was there until she ran straight into them.

"Oh, I-I'm so sorry, I-Draco?"

And it was, indeed, Draco who was standing next to her, straightening his robes. Hermione made sure to wipe her cheeks of the tear tracks accumulating there, but she couldn't hide the involuntary sniff that immediately alerted Draco to the fact that she was crying.

"Is something wrong, Granger?" he asked.

"No, I mean-well, yes, but-oh it's just Victor and you and Ron, and-I've never had my affections toyed with so much with in my life," Hermione said, attempting a smile.

"Had your affections-do you assume that I was flirting with you?"

"Well, to be perfectly honest, yes. So, I'm an exception?" Somehow, this interaction was making her feel better. She was already smiling.

Draco looked around as if making sure the hallway was clear before saying, "Follow me, Granger."

As they walked, Hermione had to asked, "So why were you in this hallway?"

"Let's just say that Pansy didn't like that I was dancing with a…well, you," Draco said-he was avoiding the use of the word Mudblood. He'd lead her to one of the larger broom cupboards, which didn't completely thrill Hermione, but she continued the converastion anyway while they both lit up their wands.

"That's funny," Hermione said. "Ron didn't like my dancing partner either. Though he didn't see our dance."

"I figured that he or Potter would have asked you to the dance," Draco admitted.

"Ron tried, but I just can't see being with either of them as being more than just like brothers to me," Hermione said, not sure why she was telling Draco this.

"Well Krum seems odd. Did you ask him?" Draco asked. Hermione wasn't quite sure why Draco was asking, but she answered any way.

"No, he asked me, but I have to agree, it is quite odd."

"So…forgiving my terrible insult to Hagrid, did you ever rethink that conversation I asked you about?"

It came so quickly and suddenly that Hermione had to answer truthfully, "Almost every day."

"Really?" Draco asked with interest. Hermione was suddenly aware of how confined they were in the broom closet.

"Well, nearly," she said quickly, her cheeks feeling suddenly warm. "Especially during the Quidditch World Cup. Thanks for warning me, by the way."

"I wanted you to be safe," Draco said, turning a bit pink himself. Then he sighed, and added, "Did you know I visited you when you were petrified?"

"You-I…no," Hermione breathed. Suddenly the words came back to her for the first time since that stressful third year. I really care about you, Hermione.

"I did, and I promised that I would never speak to you on good terms again," Draco said. "Of course, I broke that soon enough-right now for instance."

"Why are you telling me this, Draco?" Hermione said softly. She was shaking suddenly, as if expecting something big.

"Because, Hermione," Draco said exasperatedly, "I thought it would be a good thing-that I would stop caring about you in a way I knew I shouldn't-but all it's done is cause me to want you more. I want to have another conversation like that first one on that train ride. I want to be around you when you smile. I want…I want…"

But Draco went no farther. Hermione only registered that he seemed to be giving into something as he leaned down, just before kissing her full on the mouth.

It was as if Hermione had a spark flare up inside her. Her heart seemed about to explode with emotion, and her hands stopped their shaking. Instead, they found themselves on Draco's shoulders, one continuing on its way into his white-blond hair, holding on as if he was something valuable about to slip away. Draco himself had his hands cupping her cheeks. He moved them slowly upwards to her hair, and, finding the pin holding up the knot she'd so carefully put it in, pulled it out and caused her hair to tumble down to her shoulders again. This action brought Hermione somewhat back to reality, and she pulled away with a gasp.

"Oh, I really shouldn't be doing this," she breathed.

"Why not?" Draco asked quietly, his breath tickling her cheeks.

The thing was, Hermione really didn't know the answer, not in that moment. "It-it's just too surreal. I mean, you of all people…I have to be dreaming.

"Is this what you dream about, Granger?" Draco said with a laugh. Hermione was really having problems thinking with Draco so close like this.

"Oh, shut up, you know what I mean," she said, unable to stop a grin.

"So am I still just toying with your affections, or have I won them?" Draco asked with a crooked smile in return.

"You-oh no, Krum!" Hermione exclaimed. She saw Draco's face fall, and quickly added, "No, it's not that. He went to go get drinks ages ago, and oh, he must think me so rude!"

Hermione opened the broom cupboard door, and left. Draco followed, saying, "Yes, we should probably go back, now that I think about it."

They walked down the hall in complete silence until Hermione stopped suddenly.

"Draco, what does this mean for us?" she asked anxiously.

Draco sighed as truth began crashing through his thoughts. "In my head, a whole number of things, but in reality, probably nothing. With my parents and your parentage, us just isn't possible. I'm sorry, Hermione."

"I figured that's what you would say," Hermione said sadly, walking again. "I guess it would just be better if we avoided each other and try to act like we normally do."

Draco pulled on Hermione's arm, stopping her again just before the door that lead to the Great Hall.

"Kiss me, Hermione. One last time, please," he pleaded.

Hermione looked into his stormy grey eyes for a long time. Then she shook her head. "If I do, it will only make us both feel worse. Just…remember the kiss we had, the moment where nothing mattered for once. Let's both hold on to that moment. Promise me that, and promise that we'll avoid each other to spare ourselves. I promise the same for you."
Draco looked like he wanted to argue, but he only gave her a quick "I promise", and they entered the Hall again.

Draco left the Ball soon after to go to his common room. He couldn't just pretend that nothing had happened, pretend that his heart didn't ache when Krum took her hand in his. On top of that, Draco was frustrated-with the world, with fate, with logic, and with himself. How was it that the only girl in his sights was the one he couldn't have? He looked back on the kiss Hermione had told him to remember. How could he forget it? It was the one moment where he'd let go of his own restraints and allowed himself the thing he wanted most of all. It felt so powerful, and he wanted more.

But Hermione was right, if she had kissed him, he would have felt that they could find a way to get around everything, when he knew that it wouldn't work. They would only cause themselves more despair.

In his bed, Draco turned over, smothering his face into his pillow and letting out a growl of frustration. Why was it that he had to go and kiss her in the first place? He had faltered in his careful control of his emotions. In fact, they had controlled him, seeing as how until that moment, thoughts of kissing her hadn't crossed his mind. He could blame it all on that stupid dance he'd had with her-he'd gotten too close and wanted more. And then, seeing her crying, so vulnerable, he'd just given in. He wanted to say that the worst part was that he liked it, relished the feeling of her lips on his, the feel of her skin and her fingers in his hair, but it hadn't been. The worst part was that she kissed him back.

She had liked it, too, he could tell. Tell by the way she'd gotten closer, by the way she'd clung to him, and by her bloody sadness before they departed. She wanted this nearly as much as he did, and that just made things difficult. If she'd jumped away in disgust, slapped him again, or at least ran off, leaving him to wonder at her thoughts, then he'd just fill with anger and move on, keeping her as his enemy and nothing more. But no, now he had to wallow in despair about the relationship he couldn't have.

"Erm…Draco?" It was Crabbe, having returned early from the Ball for reasons Draco didn't care for.

"What?" Draco spat, with as much venom he could muster. He was satisfied when Crabbe took a step back.

"I-I was just-just wondering what you were doing. Pansy's angry because-"

"Shut up!" Draco said, knowing what was coming. "Why don't you run off to Goyle? Merlin knows he can't remember his way to the bloody dormitories without your assistance."

"Okay…if you insist…" Crabbe was backing towards the door now.

"I do insist, you blubbering idiot!" Draco yelled. "Leave. Me. Alone!"

Crabbe left then, slamming the door behind him, and Draco sunk back to his pillow.

Of course Hermione noticed when he'd left the room, but she still couldn't help looking around for him over Viktor's shoulders. Once Draco's presence was gone, Hermione was left with memories, and for some reason, only the bad ones cropped up.

In her mind's eye, Hermione saw Draco picking on first-years, making fun of Harry, and all the other vile things he tended to do. That was purely Draco-without any blood-line restriction there. Because, she realized, Malfoy was still the same Malfoy who she decided she didn't like purely because he was a bully.

Thinking back on the kiss, Hermione realized that her emotions had been running high. She had been caught up in the excitement, angry because of Ron's jealousy, and just plain surprised that Draco had talked to her. Of course she had acted the way she did.

Now, she would just avoid him at all costs, hoping that it would steer her mind away from any justifications of their relationship being possible, because it wasn't.

Even if the feeling of his lips against hers had been absolutely intoxicating.

And if his hair had been so soft to the touch.

"Stop it, stop it," she'd chided herself under her breath.

"Vot vas that?" Krum asked.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione said with a reassuring grin.

She was grateful for Ron and Harry's interruption when Viktor said goodnight to her, as she was fairly positive he'd wanted a kiss from her. At that moment she'd hardly cared that she felt another argument coming on between Ron and her, as long as she didn't have another kiss confusing her judgments. One was quite enough.

But the argument between her and Ron had been almost as confusing as a kiss. She really didn't know why she had to tell him to ask her before anyone else did. She just had the tiniest feeling that her emotions wouldn't have been such a wreck if Ron had simply asked her. Then he wouldn't have fought with her and she would have never run into Draco, and the kiss wouldn't have happened.

Still, she couldn't lie to herself and say it wasn't wonderful-it was. It was a perfect first kiss, even if she had shared it with the person she'd least expected to.

All the blood drained from Draco's face when he saw the eagle owl and the red letter it was holding the next morning at breakfast. As soon as the Howler dropped on the table, Draco stood up-the dishes rattling as he caught his knee on the table-and ran out the doors to, ironically, the same broom closet he'd shared with Hermione the night before.

He'd barely shut the door when it exploded, "DID YOU HONESTLY THINK WE WOULD NOT FIND THIS OUT! DANCING WITH A MUDBLOOD! HOW DARE YOU EVEN TOUCH ONE, DRACO, ESPECIALLY WITH WHAT IS GOING ON! THIS MATTER WILL BE ATTENDED TO THE SECOND YOU COME HOME! FOR NOW, KNOW THAT YOUR MOTHER AND I ARE COMPLETELY DISGUSTED AND IF ANOTHER INCIDENT OCCURS AGAIN, WE WILL PULL YOU OUT OF SCHOOL IN AN INSANT!"

Draco breathed again when the thing flared up. Pansy had probably just told her mother about his dance, and she had told his mother, who had told his father. No one had heard about the events in the broom cupboard.

Of course Lucius had told Draco about his ever-darkening Dark Mark, and that any affiliation with Mudbloods would be against everyone's interest. But Draco couldn't care less. He was at Hogwarts, and besides, Hermione and Draco had already decided to keep away from each other, so it wasn't like any incident could occur again, not if they both kept their promises.

Draco walked out of the broom cupboard, and headed back to his dormitory, lacking something better to do. As he was picking up his dress robes from the night before, something made a tinkling sound on the ground. Draco realized it was the pin he'd pulled out of Hermione's hair. He must have absently slipped it in his robe pocket later on the night before.

Draco stared at it. It was a simple pin really, diamond-encrusted and made of gold. He figured that it may have been expensive to Hermione, but would be nothing to his own mother. Draco turned it over and over in his hands, debating whether their promises excluded giving back an item. Eventually, Draco realized that he didn't really want to risk it, not when there was a chance he would be even more depressed than he already was. He pocketed the pin, and moved on to other things.

Hermione kept to her word throughout the rest of the school year, making sure to even keep Ron and Harry away from Draco so she wouldn't have to break up one of their fights. That being said, she barely listened when they mentioned Draco looking like he was using a walkie-talkie in her desperation to keep them away. But listen she did, and soon, the connection with Rita Skeeter hit.

It came when she glanced over at Malfoy. She really hated how much he was making fun of Harry, but she'd already accepted that he was a bully, no matter how amazing his kisses were. Hermione shook that thought from her mind and turned her thoughts to figuring out about Rita Skeeter's plans, when the memory of the walkie-talkie thing came to mind.

Draco, done with imitating Harry, had cast a longing (was it really longing or had she imagined it?) look at Hermione. That was when the memory of the kiss took over, and suddenly Hermione ran fingers through her hair, remembering the way it had fallen that night.

"Are you alright?" Ron's voice brought her out of her daze.

"Yes," Hermione breathed. She allowed herself to run her hand through her hair one more time before the theory ran through her head again. Rita Skeeter was an animagus-but what exactly could she be? It had to be small enough to hold in a hand. Hermione had to leave and research animagi.

Leaving a vague explanation for Ron and Harry to interpret, Hermione left, knowing full well she had an exam to do soon. She found the information soon enough, and headed back to exams and then the third task, where she was confident Harry would do well. He'd mastered all his spells really well, so she just sat back to enjoy the task…

Draco knew, in the back of his mind, what had happened when Karkaroff had run off. He knew that Voldemort had come back and Karkaroff was either leaving in fear or going to the Dark Lord. Draco suspected the former. This was probably why, when Potter came back with Diggory's body, Draco merely turned to where the Gryffindors sat, searching for that bushy hair.

He found it soon enough, but she wasn't looking at him, of course not. She didn't know what Karkaroff leaving signified. She didn't yet know that Diggory wasn't dead because of the Tournament. Draco knew that all she cared about was Harry Potter, and what had happened to him. This hurt Draco unreasonably, and he felt stupid, knowing there were other things he should care about at the moment. He looked away from Hermione and began to do so. Voldemort was back, and-if his father was an intelligent man-Lucius would have come at the Mark's burn. He would likely tell Draco everything he needed to know, so Draco moved on to Cedric's body. Did Voldemort kill him? Most likely. But why kill a pureblooded wizard? Draco didn't have an answer, and before he knew it he was being escorted by the prefects of Slytherin house, who were leading students back inside. Of course he didn't sleep that night and instead sent an owl to his father to confirm his suspicions.

The next morning, however, some of Draco's suspicions were confirmed. Dumbledore's speech about Voldemort's return and his plea for them to join together was barely heard by Draco. He let himself worry over the things his father would write, but it wasn't long before he began casting glances over at Hermione. Voldemort's return meant that she was in danger, and especially if Draco showed any amount of care for her.

Then, surprisingly, Hermione's eyes met Draco's. She jerked her head towards the entrance of the Great Hall, and Draco, knowing immediately what she was signaling for, nodded. When Dumbledore's speech had finished, Draco left, keeping his eyes on Hermione as much as he could. Seeing as how she hardly looked at him, Draco just followed her to wherever she was going.

Hermione led him to an empty classroom, promptly locking the door behind them. When she turned around, Draco saw the tears forming in her eyes. She quickly rubbed them away, and then said, "Well, I guess we both know what this means."

"Yeah, we do," Draco said. It wasn't much, but he wasn't really sure what else to say. He knew two things: that he hadn't been this close to Hermione for nearly a semester and that he had wanted to comfort her more than he knew was normal.

"Well, we've been doing well so far, keeping our promises," Hermione said.

"And yet we're breaking them right now," Draco couldn't help but point out. That's when he remembered the pin that he was still carrying in his pocket since the Yule Ball.

"Yes, but what about-about the other promise?" Hermione asked nervously. "Did you-"

"I keep my promises, Granger," Draco said before the memory overwhelmed him. He pulled out the pin. "And how could I forget when I've got this to remind me?"

"Is that…that's my hair-pin from-from that night?" Hermione whispered. "I've wondered-but does this mean that you've been carrying it around all this time?"

"No, Granger, I thought I'd carry it today, knowing full well I'd talk to you for the first time since that night," Draco spat bitterly. "Looks like Divination is paying off."

"There's no need to be that way," Hermione retorted. "I was just surprised that you…cared."

"Well, it doesn't bloody matter anymore does it?" Draco said angrily. "The Dark Lord's back, and any association I have with a Mudblood like you will just lead to problems for the both of us. You're in enough danger already just from being born-you don't need any more attention from him."

Hermione stepped forward. Draco tried to avoid her eyes, but when she touched his cheek, he had to look at her, if only to find out what she was doing.

"Draco, you care about me," she said. It was the surprise in her voice that provoked his next reaction.

"Of course I care about you, Granger!" he blurted out. When he realized what he said, Draco tried to cover up his mistake. "I mean, I'm worried about you. The Dark Lord-"

"Don't ruin it, Draco," Hermione interrupted. "I care about you, too."

And she moved even closer, planting a gentle kiss on his lips that didn't last nearly as long as it should have, in Draco's mind.

"Granger-" he wasn't sure what he'd been about to say, but it didn't really matter.

"I have to go," Hermione said. "Ron will be wondering where I am."

"Gr-Hermione, don't leave," Draco pleaded. "It doesn't have to be like this."

"You and I both know it does have to be like this," Hermione said without turning around.
Draco knew he should have said something-anything-to prove Hermione wrong, but he couldn't think of one word. So he let her go.

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