Essence of Hermione

Chapter 7: Let the Games Begin

Draco smiled at the piece of parchment that he held in his hand. It was glowing red, which meant, of course, that she had said yes. But then he knew that she would. Who could, after all, resist the Malfoy charm? He had her now; he just had to wait for the Ball to set his plan in action. He smiled in anticipation as he imagined the looks on Potter and Weasley's faces. It was going to be priceless! His smile faded a bit as an image of a horrified Hermione flitted across his vision, but he shook his head violently. She was a mean to an end, nothing more. It wasn't as if he was becoming attached to her. He shuddered at the thought, and set his mind back on track. He wasn't home free yet. Hermione was full of surprises, and he couldn't take any chances. She had to want him, and want him bad, the night of the Yule Ball, so he wouldn't be able to be with her until then. After all, absence makes the heart grow stronger. Plus, she would be wearing the necklace he had given her. He smiled. The tricky little charm he had found in one of his father's old book's had proved most useful. Tempero esurio. It made the mind need whatever the body wanted. Made it need in the most powerful way. The charm blocked fear and rationality, and, as he had said, was quite useful. He had woven it into the threads of the necklace, so that when she wore it, it would take hold of her. There was no way his plan could fail. He just wouldn't let it.

~~~

Ron sat at a table in the common room, jabbing his quill at some poor, unsuspecting piece of parchment.

"Er, you're not expecting anyone to read that, are you?" Harry asked him, leaning over his shoulder and looking at the mess of black marks and scratches.

"Charms essay," Ron mumbled and Harry plopped down in the chair next to him.

"I'm guessing she said no."

"She's. Going. With. Someone. Else," Ron managed through gritted teeth.

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Who?"

"Wouldn't say," Ron said, his voice sounding oddly strangled.

Harry sighed.

"Ron, I think it's time we talked to her."

Ron harrumphed.

"No, listen to me. Something is going on with her, something that she doesn't want us to know about. I don't know what it is, but I plan to find out."

"She won't talk to me."

Harry sighed.

"Did you have another row?"

"All I asked was if she was going with Victor."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Aren't you even the least bit worried about her?"

"Seemed fine to me."

"Ron!"

"What? If she wants to go cavorting around like some scarlet woman and not tell us then that's her business," he grumbled.

"Ron," Harry gave him a look.

"Alright, alright, your starting to sound like mum. As long as this snooping doesn't involve anything to do with spiders, or huge three-headed dogs, or-" Ron shuddered, "Voldemort."

Harry grinned, a rare sight these days.

"Alright then."

"But just for the record, she's not going to tell us anything and you know it."

~~~

Hermione waltzed through the school halls; completely unaware of the conversation about her that was at present going on in the common room. At the moment life was good. She was taking Ginny's advice and for now was determined not to worry about the Ball, or boys, or a certain Draco Malfoy. For now she was just Hermione, headed to her favorite spot to curl up in her favorite chair with her favorite book and pass the afternoon away. Smiling, she hummed to herself as she walked, admiring the decorations that decked the halls and reveling in the spirit of the season. Entering the library she headed to the back of the room where the comfiest chairs were. Hogwarts: A History in hand, she sank down into the big green chair with the fluffiest cushions, tucked her legs up under her and opened to her book marked page, ready to lose herself for a while. She was just ready to start reading when she heard her name.

"Hermione. Oi! Hermione."

Sighing, she looked up to see her two best friends headed towards her.

"Can we talk?" Harry asked her and her mind flashed nervously back to her's and Ginny's conversation from before, and how she had said that Harry was suspicious.

"Um, sure," she told him, making no move to get up and hoping that they would leave it until later.

The boys pulled up chairs next to hers.

"Well, we- I," he corrected himself upon seeing the look Ron gave him, "was wondering... who are you going to the Ball with?"

Hermione's eyebrows rose.

"Look. I know you guys are curious but I'm not saying. You'll find out at the Ball. Don't you have your own dates to worry about?"

Ron snorted. Hermione ignored him.

"Harry?"

"He got turned down. By my sister."

"Did not," retorted Harry. "I just asked her if she had a date and she said yes."

"When I asked her that I nearly got hexed," Ron complained. "What's with all the secrecy? Who cares who your going to the bloody ball with!"

Hermione smiled a wry smile.

"My point exactly."

"Ok, fine, we won't bother you anymore about that. But, Hermione, this is probably none of my business either but is something wrong?
"Why would you ask that?"

"Well, because you're never around anymore. And..." Harry trailed off, feeling foolish.

"Look, Harry, Ron. I'm fine, really. I have things to do, and I'm sorry I'm not around much anymore but there's nothing to worry about. Really. Now please, I'm trying to have a quiet, peaceful afternoon."

Harry sighed and Ron shot him an I-told-you-so look as they got up.

"Alright. Hermione, you would tell me if you were in trouble though, right?"

She nodded and then watched the two boys exit the library, whispering to each other heatedly. She sighed, a lump of guilt settling in her stomach, and turned back to her book, not really in the mood to read anymore at all.

Later on that night Hermione headed up to the Astronomy Tower. It was the one place she could go to clear her thoughts, and they definitely needed clearing. The Ball was the next day and she still felt so guilty. Rounding the last flight of stairs, she found herself face to face with the problem she was trying to get away from.

"Geez, Granger, do you ever watch where your going?"

She sniffed.

"I believe it was you who walked into me."

He laughed.

"After all this time we still can't have a decent conversation."

She shrugged and walked past him to the window.

"I came up here to get away from you and all the problems you've caused you know," she told him.

"Problems?"

"Oh, like you don't know. When we walk into that Ball together the whole world is going to explode."

"Does that bother you?"

"Of course it does. Harry and Ron are going to be furious. Not to mention the Slytherin's. I'm not looking forward to getting hit with a dozen hexes from back on while I'm dancing with you."

"They wouldn't dare," he said and she sighed.

"You're totally missing the point."

"And that would be..."

She sighed and turned back to the window. He came up beside her and she noticed for the first time the ring that graced his slender ring finger. It was a silver serpent with emerald eyes, expertly made so that it seemed almost alive. Something passed over her as she looked at it and she shivered.

"Where did you get that?" she asked him, for reasons even she didn't understand, as she stared at the ring.

His eyes clouded and he shrugged.

"Why do you care?"

"Just wondering," she said, and the feeling that she had had passed. "I-never mind," she said, looking away and feeling suddenly foolish.

"My father gave it to my mother when they got married. Before he turned into the power hungry bastard that he is now." Draco sneered. "She cried when they sent him to Azkaban, you know. Said she loved him. If that isn't the biggest load of shit I've ever heard then I'm nobler then Potter. Anyways, she gave it to me two years ago, going on about love and some crap. I wear it because it's a symbol of power. My mother, weak as she is, outlasted my father, for all her belief in love and such nonsense. She said the ring gave her the power to go on and told me to wear it until I had no more need for it."

Hermione stared at him. Had he just opened up to her? She was sure she was the first to hear this story and she could feel tears prick the back of her eyes.

"You're mother does love you, Draco," she said softly and felt a tear spill onto her cheek. She felt so sorry for him, not to believe in love, or family.

Upon seeing her weakness he sneered.

"Save it for someone who needs it," he said coldly and turned his back on her.

She sighed.

"I'm only trying to help. What kind of person doesn't believe in love or family?" she asked heatedly.

"A Malfoy," he said simply, with no hint of anger or any other emotion and she sighed again.

"That's your answer to everything, isn't it? Malfoy this, Malfoy that. Being a Malfoy doesn't make you who you are, it's just a name! It doesn't mold your person or your morals or dictate what you can or can't believe in!"

"Ah," he said softly, "but it can. You have no idea." Then he turned abruptly to face her. "Here," he said, sliding the ring off his finger. "Take it."

"What, no, I can't. It's a family heirloom, I couldn't possibly."

"I don't need it nor do I want it. You said that Malfoy is just a name, but you are wrong. This ring is the only physical thing now that binds me to my family, but I don't need it to know who I am. Take it."

She reached out with trembling fingers to take in from him and slid it on the same finger he had worn it on. Surprisingly it fit. Seeing the questioning look she gave him he smiled.

"It is only proper that it is worn on the ring finger," he said. "The ring will shrink or expand to fit its owner, and that would be you now. Strange," he said, trailing off.

"What?"

"Well, you never noticed my ring before, right? But I have never taken it off. I couldn't, not until I had someone to give it to. See, the ring has an ancient family magic of its own, and can only be noticed by a chosen few. But you're neither a Malfoy or a Slytherin, so why should it choose to reveal itself to you?"

Hermione shivered as she remembered the feeling that had come over her as she had seen the ring. Draco shrugged dismissively.

"Good night then," he said and turned, cloak sweeping behind him as he disappeared around the corner.

Hermione sighed.

"Until tomorrow then," she said softly and turned back to the window, even more confused then before. She glanced down at the ring she wore. She had been so sure that it had been encrusted with emeralds, but now the eyes shone with blood red rubies. She shivered once more before deciding to head back to bed, thoroughly creeped out.

~~~

The day of the Yule Ball started out well for Hermione. She saw Harry and Ron at breakfast, but they made no mention of their conversation the previous day. Ron seemed to be desperately trying to make an effort to make things normal again, considering what he said carefully before speaking, anxious not to make her mad. She would have laughed if she hadn't been so touched by his thoughtfulness. The topic of the Ball didn't come up once, and after breakfast she joined Harry, Ron, and Ginny in yet another snowball fight. It felt as if things were back to normal now, felt as if there were no secrets keeping them apart anymore, and Hermione almost would have believed it if Ginny had not stopped the fight at four-thirty, declaring she had to get ready. It was then that Hermione remembered that it was not her two best friends she would be going to the Ball with, but with their most hated enemy, and she had reluctantly gotten up and followed Ginny inside, all sense of familiarity fading.

Now she stood in the showers of the prefect's bathroom, letting the hot water warm her toes and remembering the feel of Draco's body pressed up against hers as water had rushed around them. Sighing contentedly, she shut off the water and stepped out onto the tiled floor, wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel. She felt strangely calm as she re-entered her dormitory. Parvati and Lavender were already there; dress robes smoothed on their beds as Parvati curled Lavender's hair up around her head into an elegant do with her wand. Hermione took her robes carefully from her trunk and headed quickly into the bathroom. She put on her robes and necklace slowly, twirling in front of the mirror and admiring the way the fabric shifted and sparkled, before she stepped back out into her shared room. Parvati noticed her first, and Lavender whipped around to see what her friend was gasping over.

"They're beautiful," Parvati whispered.

"Where did you get them?" inquired Lavender.

Hermione blushed.

"Thank you. But... I'm not sure how to do my hair," she confided and the other two girls were at her side instantly, ushering her into the chair that Lavender had been previously occupying.

"What do you think?" Parvati asked Lavender, taking bits of Hermione's hair and holding them up at different angles. "Wait, do you still have that magazine?"

Lavender looked at her questioningly for a second before her eyes lit up and she dove for her chest.

"Here!" she squealed as she tore it open to a page with a very pretty witch sporting an up-do of locks that wove expertly around her head while diamonds glimmered here and there among the twists and curls. "It's perfect. What do you think?" she asked, anxiously shoving the book in front of a very disgruntled Hermione.

"You could do that, with my hair?"

Parvati scoffed.

"Please. Of course we can. We even have the little diamonds."

"But it will take too long," Hermione protested. "And you still have your own hair to do."

Lavender waved her off impatiently.

"Nonsense. My hair is done, and Parvati's won't take but a minute. I've always wanted to try something with your hair anyways."

Hermione sighed, outnumbered. Besides, the hair-do really was quite beautiful. She let Lavender and Parvati style her hair for the better part of an hour, and when they finally announced that they were finished and gave her a mirror to have a look, she gasped. It looked exactly as it did in the book.

"Thank you," she breathed. "It's amazing."

The two girls smiled, looking extremely pleased with themselves. Hermione glanced down at her watch.

"It's quarter after six!" she exclaimed, and then with one last thank-you, rushed out the door into Ginny's room.

Hermione found Ginny sitting in front of her mirror, carefully applying make-up.

"Wow, you look nice," she told her.

She wore strapless emerald robes made from some shimmering material with matching gloves and had her hair tied into an elegant bun at the base of her neck, fiery curls framing her face.

"Thank-you," she said, applying one last stroke of mascara and turning to look at Hermione.

"You look stunning!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "Come here and sit down while I do your make-up."

Hermione laughed.

"I don't think I've done a thing for myself since the night started."

Ginny grinned.

"Glad to help."

She had just started in with silver eye shadow when Kendra emerged from the bathroom in robes of icy blue.

"Whoa, love, are you sure you should be wearing those robes?" she said to Hermione.

"Why?" asked Hermione, feeling suddenly insecure.

"Because you're like to give some poor dear a heart attack when you waltz in looking like you just stepped off a page of Witch Weekly. You too, Gin. I mean, come on, have a heart." Then she grinned.

Hermione blushed and Ginny laughed.

"Aren't you supposed to be meeting Griffin at six-thirty?" Ginny asked her.

"Oh, right you are," Kendra said, and then sighed. "It looks like us three vixens are going to be split up then. Catch you girls later," she said, and winked at them before grabbing her matching purse and leaving.

Ginny shook her head, laughing.

"Completely insane," she said and Hermione smiled.

~~~

Draco looked in the mirror one last time, making sure his hair was perfect, his Slytherin green robes immaculate. Once he was satisfied, he moved to the desk near his bed and sat slowly into the hard wooden chair. The night was finally here; Potter was finally going to get what was coming to him. A small shadow of doubt hovered in his mind however, and he pushed it away quickly. Hermione was expendable. She had been from the beginning, from when he had first come up with this brilliant idea. He had always known that she would be caught up in the pain that he was bringing upon Potter, and it had never bothered him before, and he wasn't about to let it bother him now. Not that there was any reason that it should. He was the same cold, heartless Malfoy that he had been from the start, and she was still just a stupid girl, nothing had changed.

Having reassured himself, he hauled out a piece of parchment and paused, quill poised above it, wondering how to start.

Harry and Ron,

Meet me at 11:30 in the hall out side the Ball. Concentrate hard next to the portrait of the Giant Squid and a door will appear. It's important, please come.

Love Hermione

Satisfied, he gave his wand a flick and watched as his writing became smaller and loopier in perfect imitation of Hermione's own script. He tied it to the leg of the school owl that was perched on the window ledge, and then muttered a time charm, so that the owl wouldn't deliver its message until 11:15. He smiled in satisfaction. Everything was in place, now all he had to do was wait. Getting up he glanced at his watch. Almost seven. Let the games begin.

~~~

At seven o'clock, Hermione stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, nervously smoothing her robes. Ginny had gone on to meet her date at quarter to, so now Hermione waited alone, anxiously tapping one heeled foot on the cold stone.

"You look stunning," came a low voice from behind her and she whirled to stare into the cool eyes of Draco Malfoy.

Backing up a few steps she felt her mouth go dry as she took in the rest of him. He was wearing robes of deep Slytherin green and his silvery blonde hair fell in his eyes as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Ready?"

Swallowing heavily she nodded, taking his arm as it was offered to her and with one last deep breath, headed into the Great Hall.