Divine Humiliation

Divine Humiliation

"In the mood for showing off?"

"Are you? Wait." She grinned. "Stupid question."

"I take that as a yes, then." He smirked at her. "Good. It's time we show these idiots how this dance is really done."

He slipped an arm around her waist, his palm falling into contact with the soft fabric of her gown. She positioned her hand against his, their fingers curled in each other's. He then prompted her other hand to land around his shoulders, just to bring her closer. She cocked her head to one side, but a smile played on her lips. "You do realize this is not how Flitwick taught us to hold each other, don't you? I remember there was much more space between us than this."

He moved his thumb against her skin. "I really don't think he'll interfere with us now, seeing as we're about to do 'The Dance'. Or, as I call it, 'The-torture-a-bitter-Flitwick-inflicted-on-us-since-none-of-the-Ravenclaws-were-valedictorians' routine."

"There's a mouthful." But she was laughing.

"Yes. Well." He shrugged. "I would've also christened this dance 'The-bane-of-my-existence', but that title's reserved for you."

"Now I feel so special," she said dryly.

Draco grinned widely. "Want to know what I gave to Weasley and Potter?"

Granger shook her head, and mock-glared at him. "It's not like I have a choice. You're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn straight!" He winked at her. "I gave them names along the lines of a leprechaun and a doormat---well, not in that order but--"

"I won't even ask the reason behind all this, since I sense there'd be no sense in it!"

"Whoever said there was any sense in it at all? We're talking about Weasley and Potter here. Sense has no place in them."

"Oh, do shut up." Granger looked past him, then quickly met his eye. "Flitwick's looking at us strangely. He noticed! I knew it... oh, if we get in trouble for this--"

"But don't you see?" Draco lifted a brow at her. "We are. We've been in trouble from the very beginning. You can even say we caused it ourselves."

The look on her face told him she completely understood what he was alluding to. "Only because you started it!"

He smiled patronizingly. "You could've easily ignored everything I did to you."

"What, and miss the opportunity to put you in place?"

"Or miss the opportunity to be in contact with me every now and then, you mean?" He shrugged again. " I reckon women do have difficulty in going against the thought--"

"Cocky bastard." Granger hit him again. "I knew there's a reason I hate you."

"Well of course there's a reason! You're Hermione Granger. You have a reason for everything. But as for the hate part..." He placed his mouth close to her ear, and spoke softly to it. "You hate me so much you're willing to be caught with me like this. You hate me so much you're going to express everything you feel about me through this dance. Won't you?" He leaned back and stared at her eyes. The look he sent her was something he knew she couldn't resist - after all, it was a challenge, and a challenge was something she could never refuse.

Especially if the challenge came from him.

"Will you?" she shot back without hesitation.

Draco opted for a wounded expression. "You're talking to a Malfoy. Don't mock me, woman!"

She grinned widely. "Then what are we waiting for?"

When Flitwick clapped, the beginnings of the familiar music haunted the room. Draco looked around him to see that all the dancing pairs were in position already. He and Granger were placed at the very middle, and the onslaught of lights from the ceiling heightened their visibility, which meant that the attention of the audience would be mostly focused on them.

Which was where it should be, anyway.

Seconds later, their dance started.

It began with a simple sway of the hips, the simple movement of the feet. Then, it evolved into something more, something potent and passionate and powerful. There was rhythm and flare and pulse and everything was alive. Every sway was made with gusto and every movement was coupled with delight. The dance was life in itself; it had freedom and exuberance and pleasure in what it celebrated.

Draco stepped away from her, and not letting go of her right hand he twirled her once, twice, thrice. Granger followed the movements fluidly, her every step an echo and an equal to his. He mellowed a bit as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him, and she arched her back as he lowered her in a dip. Pulling her up, he then placed his hands on the sides of her hips, and they swayed together three times to the left, three times to the right.

He dared to take this dance with her further and it was fiery, intense.

She matched his moves with hers and it was explosive, dynamic.

They turned and twisted, stepped and bended. Draco had time to look around him, and noticed that no pair danced as well as they did. He grinned, bent to her ear when he had the chance, and told her so.

She chuckled. "Always this humble, Malfoy?"

"Of course. It's one of the things you hate in me, remember?"

Granger turned in his arms, and when she had both her arms locked around his neck she said, "I believe I term it 'egotistic' and 'conceited' then."

"It's the same thing. Basically." And he dipped her again.

The dance was similar to the one they had practiced a million times, but the ambiance and atmosphere in the Great Hall helped in infusing it with drama and force. The fast feats were executed with more energy and the slow swings were done with more fervor. All the students were smiling; all were energetic and vibrant and alive in their dance.

At the end of the routine, everyone was breathing heavily. Everyone was drained of energy.

And yet everyone was utterly pleased with what they had accomplished.

"Excellent, excellent, excellent!" Dumbledore exclaimed as he stood in front. He clapped and smiled and his eyes twinkled more than it usually did. "I am most proud of how beautiful you all have performed tonight. You did your best, and it was splendid! That dance is certainly something extraordinary. Well done, well done all of you!"

The professors all smiled at the students, whistling and cheering as they did. Even Snape seemed to be in a jovial mood; even if he wasn't smiling there was serenity on his face that before meant either him imagining life without Gryffindors or life without Harry Potter. He was probably thinking of it right now - especially after seeing the lot of them dance - but...

Dumbledore continued. "I would like to personally thank our wonderful Professor Flitwick and Professor Trelawney, for guiding these students not only in their respective subjects but also in this part of the ball... this dance wouldn't be possible hadn't they contributed their creativity and ingenuity! Splendid work!"

And the clapping sounds grew louder, especially when the miniscule professor did a shy little wave.

"And so..." Dumbledore smiled as the noise died down. "With the routine part of the Ball over, I now invite you to enjoy yourselves for the rest of the evening. There is an abundant supply of food and drinks and music, and as I am very sure you are all aware of tonight being the last night of your stay in Hogwarts..."

There was a sudden stillness in the room, as though everyone had been too caught up in the thrill of the moment to realize that, indeed, it was officially their last night together, as a class, as students. Draco felt Granger sneak her hand in his, and he squeezed it. She squeezed in return.

"Allow me to impart a few words to you all, my dear students. Along with the good things that had happened to us, there were... occurrences, shall I say, that threatened to divide us. But they did not become hindrances to our triumphs. We were able to overcome these problems, and in so doing we proved our strength, our faith... our courage."

Draco kept himself from rolling his eyes. Trust Dumbledore to put the goody-goody Gryffindors into the spotlight!

"These past seven years have been very painful and pleasurable to all of us, and, like all things they, too, must come to a conclusion. Tomorrow, such an end will come to us. Tomorrow, another chapter in your lives will be fulfilled and closed. However, tomorrow is still hours away. As tonight is a night for your dreams and fantasies, for your every desire and wish... let us celebrate this moment. Let us be happy and enjoy this night. Let us make this a night to remember for all of us!"

And there were cheers and whistles and claps again.

The night was alive once more.

"Dumbledore's such a spoilsport, don't you think?" Draco asked as they went to get their drinks. He gritted his teeth and shoved Thomas away when he thought the Gryffindor was getting too close for comfort.

Granger didn't seem to notice the commotion around them. "He's just keeping everything real," she said softly, tugging at his hand and catching his attention. "I mean--if he didn't say it I wouldn't even realize that--"

"No, I wasn't talking about that," he said. "I meant the part about him--"

"Hermione!"

Draco turned around and saw Weasley running towards them. The red-haired sod moved so fast he hadn't enough time to execute his plan of casually placing his foot out and tripping the bastard.

Damn. That would've topped an already perfect evening.

And now the red-haired sod was hugging Draco's date. Oh, frickin' great. Plunge a knife into me and twist it, why don't you?

"Ron!" said Granger. Would it kill her to not gush? "Ron! Hi! Wow, you look absolutely--"

"Hideous?" piped Draco helpfully. "Ugly? Dreadful?"

But no one was really paying attention to him, or to his growing list of adjectives for the red-haired sod.

Damn it.

"--great! You look absolutely great!" Granger hugged him again. "I would've gone and told you that earlier but you were too busy with... something else." She pinned him with a very meaningful look. "Or should I say, someone else."

Weasley's ears turned purple, and let out a strangled chortle. "Yes, well, about that... see, I was--"

"Yes?" Granger coaxed, a sly look on her face. "Anything you might want to share?"

"Heh, erm, I--"

"Hermione! Ron!"

"Harry!"

"Harry! Mate! Thank Merlin!"

Cue the girly gushes, coming mostly from Weasley and Potter's general directions.

Gag me, Draco thought spitefully, watching as the Golden Trio reunited. Someone put me out of my misery and kill me NOW.

"Did you see us dance?" asked Potter, puffing out his pathetic chest in a pathetic effort to draw attention to his pathetic person.

"'Us'?" asked Granger, smiling hugely after untangling herself from Potter's unattractive grasp. "You mean you and Zabini?"

"Well..." Potter pushed up his glasses and drew Draco's attention to his ghastly hair and--wait, what the--is that gel on his hair? No! NO! NOOO!!!

That is it. Will not use any more gel from now on.

Damn you Potter! Damn you for killing the attractiveness of hair gel on men!

"Sorry, didn't see you at all Harry," said Weasley, winking at Granger before turning back to Potter. "Zabini's arms were all around you I wasn't able to distinguish which parts were yours and which ones weren't."

"Well - heh-- about that, I was, um--" Then Potter grinned. "Never mind that. You should've seen that part where I--"

Draco had had enough. "We didn't see that part, Potter, nor would we care if we did," he said calmly, taking his rightful place at Granger's side. "We were too engrossed in doing the dance ourselves since - don't you know? We all did it. Not just you. That gel on your hair doesn't really make you any better--"

"Go away, Malfoy," said Weasley readily.

"Oh, I will, believe me - but I'll be taking Granger with me."

"What? What--"

"No!"

"Don't! Hermione--"

"So, I take it you don't want her to leave?" He gave them his special blend of a smile full of promised pain and suffering. "I have an idea. Since we're forced to spend this time together, let's have this fake conversation where you pretend to worship me and I pretend I don't want to grab your throats, all right?" He leveled his gaze against this sod, as well as the other sod. "Enjoying the dance, you two?"

"We were," said Potter gamely. "Until about three seconds ago. Amazing how everything was ruined the moment you appeared."

"Malfoy, Harry, Ron--"

"I'm hurt you think that way, Potter. I thought... I thought that we're all friends here."

Weasley and Potter looked absolutely horrified at the notion.

It made Draco feel a bit better that he was the one who evoked the scarred expressions on those scarred faces.

"I'll say it again, Malfoy: Sod. Off!"

"Actually Weasley, your idiotic memory is failing you. What you told me was--"

"There you are!"

A hand slipped in the crook of Weasley's arm, and Pansy, a not-so-horrifying vision in lilac, appeared at his side. She sent Draco and Granger a slightly belligerent look before she gave her full attention to Weasley. "I thought you left me. You just disappeared without as much as a word."

Instantly, Weasley's face contorted to one filled with contrite. "Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "I--"

Draco chuckled and sent Pansy an approving glance. "Sure did whip him fast, Pansy."

"Shut UP!"

Pansy flipped her hair and smiled. "Of course. Don't mock me, Draco."

"Finally got what you wanted, didn't you."

She gave him and Granger a sly look. "Could say the same to you."

He casually, possessively, slipped a hand at Granger's lower back. "You could."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Potter, eyes bulging through his glasses.

"Heh!" That muffled, nervous sound came from Granger. "Yes, well, about that... see, we were--"

"Coming through, coming through!" Blaise emerged from between Pansy and Granger, pushed a full glass of sparkling, bubbling blue liquid to Potter, and kept one tall glass for herself. "Having a bit of a Slytherin/Gryffindor convention here, I see!" She gave everyone a fleeting glance. "What are you all talking about, huh? What? What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Granger was quick to say.

"Nothing?" Blaise asked. "Not even the fact that Harry and I kissed?" She turned to him. "Did you not tell them?"

"Well - heh-- about that, I was, um--"

"Do not corrupt us with filthy images," Draco snapped. "I, for one, would like to sleep tonight without horrifying visions for dreams!"

Three heads vigorously nodded their assent.

"Fine. Whatever. Let's talk about something else." Blaise drank first before she opened her big fat mouth. "Pansy and Weasley kissed. So did Draco and Granger. Anyone want to comment on that?"

Everybody froze and was afraid to look at the others in the eye.

Draco just knew he wasn't the only one thinking of Blaise in a severely excruciating and potentially fatal situation.

She giggled, blissfully unaware of the murderous plots hatching against her. "Dare I say that love is so all around us tonight? Cheers!" And in a single gulp she emptied the contents of her glass into her throat and senses.

"Um, Harry--" Granger still had that nervous quality in her voice as she spoke. "How many drinks have Zabini consumed for tonight?"

"Not drunk if that's your point, Granger," defended Blaise, glaring at her.

"Of course you're not, because only those people who aren't really drunk will ever admit that they're drunk already!" snapped Weasley.

Draco rubbed his chin. "I don't believe anyone can sense some sense in what you said," he said to Weasley. "I certainly don't know where to start looking."

"Shut UP!" Pansy shrieked, right before Weasley opened his mouth.

"How many glasses did you have, Blaise?" asked Potter in that annoying, obnoxious, knight-about-to-rescue-a-damsel-in-distress tone.

Blaise fondly patted his cheek. "Don't worry, luv. I'll give you the signal once I'm out of my mind drunk. Of course, it could get mixed up with the 'I'm-ready-to-be-taken-to-bed-and-in-any-which-way-you-want' signal, but--"

Four faces screwed dramatically at once.

"Disgusting!" exclaimed Weasley.

"Stop it!" hissed Pansy.

"Harry!" cried Granger.

"You evil, conniving woman," swore Draco with deep and true conviction.

Potter just chuckled nervously and stupidly and blushed.

"Speaking of evil, conniving women..." Blaise took Harry's drink and sipped from it, before giving him her empty one, "Georgiana's here to see you, Draco."

And suddenly all eyes were on Draco.

And suddenly there was that ugly, throbbing feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"Who?" asked Granger.

"She's that reporter from The Daily Prophet, isn't she?" said Weasley, for once displaying his knowledge about something in his life.

"The one and only," answered Blaise in between sips.

"What is she doing here?"

"You know her?"

Pansy raised her brow at Granger's question. "Of course I do. Georgiana's a few years ahead of us and since she graduated ages ago I can't imagine why--"

"I certainly can't imagine what she was thinking when she chose to wear that awful pink ruffles at our Ball." Blaise grimaced and shivered. "So hideous! Gah! Pink!"

"If she's a reporter, then she might be doing a story for The Daily Prophet," Potter pointed out. "Maybe it's her--"

"But why would she wear that awful pink--"

"So, is her family a royal pureblooded one?" Granger wanted to know.

Pansy shook her head. "Oh no. Their family's not that old, but they're rich enough to associate with my family as well as Draco's. I think... no, I know, that my mother likes her very much. Draco's mother is also very fond of Georgiana. She's a hit with old women, because her writing is so--well, old, or something."

"I--I see, I think," said Granger in a small, strangled voice. "But why would--"

"I really don't see why we should be focusing our attention on one measly reporter," Draco said, taking Granger's cold and clammy hand in his. "Tell you what, why don't we just--"

"Oh, but Draco, she's looking for you," Blaise told him. "Didn't I say that out loud?"

"Did you tell her I'm here?"

"And get in touch with her god-awful pink ruffles? No thank you! I'd rather--"

"Blaise--"

"No, no." Blaise shook her head. "I didn't talk to her. I just overheard her talking to a couple of students, asking where you are."

Granger looked up at him. "Maybe you should go see why she's here," she told him. "Maybe it's important."

"Maybe she wants to do an interview on you and your ambition of modeling for Witch Weekly," sniggered Weasley.

"Shut up, doormat!" But what the bastard said made some sort of sense.

Weasley looked taken aback. "What? What did you--that's not even--"

"Just go." Granger gave him a little push.

Draco relented. "All right, I'll see what the fuss is about." And absently, he dropped a kiss on her cheek. "I'll be right back."

"See? See? They kissed! Now we can ask Granger--"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he heard Potter demand.

"Hermione!" shrieked Weasley. "What the bloody hell--"

"Well - heh-- about that, I was, um--"

And, even with the throbbing pain in his stomach, a smile blessed Draco's face as he thought of how Granger would attempt to explain their... predicament to her friends.

Finding the reporter wasn't that difficult. All Draco had to do was look for the person wearing the - according to Blaise - God-awful pink ruffles and he'd see her.

True enough, there she was.

And so were the god-awful pink ruffles she was wearing. Hideous! Ugly! Dreadful!

"Draco!" Georgiana exclaimed, spreading her arms wide in welcome. "Sorry I was late, but--" She shook her purse. "Had to do some notes on your dance for the next edition - my assignment, you know, because--"

As if he cared about that. "Why are you looking for me? I'm not ready for that interview, damn it! I told you I'd contact you if ever--"

"What? What are you talking about?"

He blinked. "My interview, in the-- I mean - isn't that why you're here?"

"No!" She frowned. "Don't you know?"

"Know what?" Draco looked around him, then grabbed Georgiana by the arm and pulled her out of the Great Hall. They only stopped when they were out of anyone's earshot. "If you're not here about that then why are you here?"

She was still for a few seconds, before she sighed. "Oh, no," Georgiana said, shaking her head. "I can't believe--I mean, when I talked to--"

"Sinclair--"

"Your mother sent me here, Draco," Georgiana said, looking at him straight in the eye. "She told me about your situation and--"

His mother.

That throbbing pain in his stomach became a sickening ache.

"My situation?"

Georgiana nodded. "She sent me a note, then saw me a few days later, and--"

"What did my mother tell you?" he demanded, his voice low, flat.

"She said that--"

Suddenly, there was a creaking sound somewhere from their left. Draco looked at the direction the noise came from, and winced.

Oh, bloody hell.

This just kept getting better and better.

Why won't someone just kill me and be done with it?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, pretend I'm not here, I'm just--"

"Ah, Miss Granger," said Georgiana coolly, as she stepped away from him. "My, don't you look lovely tonight."

She took her hands off her face. "Miss... Sinclair," she muttered in response. "Malfoy. There you are." Granger drew her brows together, pursed her lips, then approached him. "I--"

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked, the nerves in him making his voice sharper. "I told you I'll--"

"I was looking for you. The professors, they want us to--"

"I believe," said Georgiana, "that you will have to wait a while. See, Draco and I are having a conversation. A very private one, and you're intruding."

"Oh. I'm really sorry." Granger frowned, then glanced at him. "All right. Fine. I'll just be at the--"

"He'll look for you if he wants to." The smile Georgiana sent her was especially meaningful. "If." She then grabbed his hand and held it.

Draco glared at the woman and pulled his hand free. My, she was behaving worse than a clinging, whining Pansy! "I think our conversation is done," he said curtly. "Come on, Granger."

They were about to leave when Georgiana spoke. "Is this the way you treat your date, Draco? You just leave me around while--"

That one word froze them on their tracks.

And suddenly there was a roar of sudden silence that screamed in his head. "My what?"

"Your date. That's what I am. That's why I'm here."

Draco winced again as he noticed that Granger had become so still and silent, he wondered if she was still breathing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Of course you know what I'm talking about, luv. Didn't you ask me yourself?" Georgiana fanned out her fingers. "I received your letter, you know. I have it if you want proof." She looked at Granger as she said this.

"What? What? Bloody--"

"Did you?" The quiet question came from Granger, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were affixed somewhere at their feet.

"Yes, he did." Georgiana flashed her teeth again. "Don't tell me, Miss Granger, that you actually expected yourself to be Draco's date for this ball. Why, I can't imagine why you would think that! Then again--"

"Shut up, Sinclair!" Draco snapped. He then grabbed Granger's arm. "Listen, Hermione, it's not--"

She whipped around to face him, and on her lips was a tight, tight smile. "Why don't you," Granger pushed through thin lips, "just go to hell." And she tugged her arm free and walked away from him.

Just like that.

"Huh, what lovely manners she has," huffed Georgiana.

Draco started to follow Granger, then remembered their audience and stopped. "I'll deal with you later," he gritted out. Then he ran.

He had no idea how she was able to move so quickly, but it took him a few minutes before he found out where she was. She stood just outside the locked Charms classroom, her back against the closed door and her face cradled in her hands.

Ironically, they were back where everything started. "Granger--"

"So this is it, then," she said softly, looking up and away from him.

"This is--what are you--"

Granger pushed herself off the door, but the dark halls prevented him from seeing her full expression - only her silhouette. "I should've expected something like this from you," she said, her voice harsh. "I just wonder-- why didn't you do a formal announcement? Like, 'Here, I present to you, my true date to this Ball - Miss Georgiana Sinclair! Ha! Eat your heart out, Granger!'" She laughed, the sound severe and spiteful. "Wouldn't that be funny? Wouldn't that just humiliate me to the point of--"

"Granger--"

"Want to hear something even funnier?" Granger advanced to him, then pushed him with both hands. He almost stumbled. "I'm stupid. That's right. I admit it. I'm stupid - stupid enough to trust you, to let you manipulate me like this!"

"I--"

"You must wonder why I trusted you in the first place. The idea's so laughable that--" She shook her head. "Why? Why did I trust you, the Almighty Draco Malfoy?" She pushed him again. "Because I thought that a near-death experience on your part would've changed you somehow - but did it? Did it? Of course not! Who the hell was I kidding? Why on earth would someone like you change?"

Draco took a deep breath, trying to think of a way to calm her down... but the hurt in her voice was too damn much for him, and-- "Stop pushing me!" He tried to catch her hands, but she was fast enough to evade him.

"Did you know that I also planned on humiliating you tonight?" she rasped out, her voice low and trembling. "Yes, that's right. I planned on bringing you to your knees one last time, because, hey - last chance to do so! But after seeing you all bloodied and bruised that night... the thought never crossed my mind again. Until this moment. Until I realized that you--that all along--" Granger lifted her hand and pointed at him. "I should've continued with it. Damnit, I should've done something to you tonight, so at least I'm not the only one reeling from this blow. I should've hurt you!"

"Then do it," Draco finally said, moving towards her. She stepped back, but he could feel the heat of her glare. He'd been at the receiving end of it for too damn long that he knew too well what it felt like. He grabbed her shoulders, and she fought to free herself, but his determination prevailed - his hold remained. "Do it, why don't you? If that's what will take you to believe--"

"Do you honestly think," she spat, ceasing her actions completely, "that I will believe you after this? Never again. I'm done with it. I'm done making a fool out of myself. I'm done with you." Granger spoke calmly, directly, to his eyes. "Let me go."

"Granger--"

"I said - let me go."

He did. Reluctantly, he released her and stepped back. Draco looked at her directly; now that she was out of the dark halls he noted the thin trail of tears on both her cheeks. Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it! "I'll have you know," he said loudly, "that I never planned on anything like this to happen tonight. What I had in mind was to have such great fun--"

"Oh, at my expense? How thoughtful of you."

"No, you thickheaded woman, I--" He shoved his hand through his hair. "Look. You're being irrational and--"

"I'm being irrational? How dare you! How dare--"

I'm handling this wrong. Damnitdamnitdamnit! "Let me finish, for once!" he shouted. "I never had any part in Georgiana being here. I didn't know why she was, or who sent her--I only found out when she said that--"

She didn't speak, but the disbelieving, scathing look on her face didn't disappear.

"Believe me," he said low. "You have to believe me when I say I've no plans of humiliating you tonight. I didn't plan this! I didn't want to hurt you!"

"Too bad. You did."

Why didn't she believe him? Why would she even think that-- couldn't she see that she was not the only one reeling from all these? His night was ruined, damnit! She wasn't the only person angry at this sudden turn of events! "I told you I am not responsible for this," he told her tightly. "That's the truth."

Granger cocked her head to one side. "Why do I find that hard to believe? Oh, I know. Because you're a liar."

Draco took a sharp intake of breath. He was getting sick of her accusations. "And you're an idiot," he snapped. "Of course, I knew that from the beginning."

"Bastard!" she hissed. "You admit it, then?"

"No. But I sure as hell won't try to convince you any longer." He shrugged. "It's your problem that you don't believe me. Your loss."

Her eyes flashed. "If this is your way of apologizing--"

"Why? Why do I have to apologize? I've done nothing! Don't you understand?"

"No," she retorted. "I don't. Would you care to elaborate? Or at least, be honest?"

"Fine. Fine. You want honesty? Well here it is!" He spread his arms wide. "You said you planned on humiliating me tonight, didn't you? Well, guess what - I did, too. But contrary to what you think, I did change the night I got attacked. When I heard Nott saying out loud how he planned to hurt you, did you think I relished the feeling? I got scared, dammit - for you. I didn't know why, or what it meant at that time, but now that I do, I wonder if I'm better off not knowing." Draco glared at her. "You say you don't believe me? Then be stupid and continue with it. I know you well enough to realize nothing I say will make you change your mind."

They stood there, staring at each other for a few seconds. Draco hung his head, and willed his feet to move away - but it wouldn't. Granger was breathing rather loudly, a few muffled sobs escaping from her once in a while.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Finally, she moved. His attention was caught when a very audible snap echoed in the hallway.

"Here."

Draco looked down. There, lying on his feet, were the necklace and the corsage he gave her earlier. He didn't say a word, didn't lift his eyes.

Granger took off her earrings and threw them at his feet as well. "Good night," she said through clenched teeth. "I had such a lovely time. Thank you." And she turned on her heels and slowly walked away from him.

When she broke into a run and disappeared around a corner, Draco muffled a stream of curses and closed his eyes. He opened them again, slowly, reluctantly. The rubies on the necklace and earrings gleamed brilliantly, mocking him. The sweet scent of the flowers on the corsage wafted easily through his senses, taunting him.

He left them lying on the cold, hard floor.

Someone was bound to throw them away later.

There was very little sense in going back to the Graduation Ball. His night was most effectively ruined - there was very little sense in doing anything else except--

"I knew you'd be here."

Wrong move, Sinclair.

"Should've gotten yourself out when I gave you the chance," he stated, looking dully at the portrait that guarded the Slytherin common room.

Georgiana glanced at the direction he came from, then at him. "What happened?"

Draco chuckled. "Wouldn't you want to know? You reporters always have the twisted desire to know everything, don't you?"

She adjusted the ruffles on her dress. "Listen, I--this isn't my fault."

"Of course it isn't."

She winced. "It's not like that. I--the reason I'm here is because I've been assigned to write an article on your--"

"And in your article," said Draco in a harsh tone, "do you have to say that you're my date to this Ball? Or is that just to spice things up a little bit?"

"It was your mother who said I should--" Georgiana paused. "Draco. Listen to me. Your mother sent me here to save you from having to take that Granger woman tonight. Your parents, oh, you should've seen how worried Narcissa was when I saw her! She insisted that I go here to check if that Mudbl--"

"I'd be very careful if I were you." The words were said in a singsong, menacing voice.

"But don't you see?" Georgiana gripped his arm. "She must've manipulated you to take her to the Ball! That's the only reason why--"

Draco laughed. "Want to hear something funny?" He carefully laid his hand over hers. "I was the one who manipulated her into coming with me."

"What? No, that's--"

"Didn't you even stop to think that there was actually a reason she's the Gryffindor and I'm the Slytherin? You underestimate me, Sinclair. Your Ravenclaw traits are failing you." He squeezed her hand rather painfully. "I suggest that you leave immediately, before I manipulate someone into dragging you out. Plus, you can just forget that interview I promised you and - Georgiana?" He used his saccharine voice - the one that promised torment. "If you ever - ever - mention anything about this incident in your article I will personally see to it that you won't be able to write anything again. Do I make myself clear?"

Georgiana bit her lip, then pulled her hand free and rubbed it. She smiled pathetically - but he can sense the fear beneath it. "Dear boy, I guess nobody ever told you that you shouldn't be threatening reporters, especially those working for The Daily Prophet like me. The pen is mightier than the sword, after all."

Draco sneered. "And I guess you didn't understand what I said, so let me put it this way: I was having the perfect night until you arrived. You spoiled my Graduation Ball, Sinclair - that basically gives me every right to spoil your life, if I ever choose to." He did a mock bow. "Good night, Georgiana, luv. I had such a good time, thank you." And he left the reporter.

The Slytherin common room was dismal, deserted, and desolate - perfect words to describe how Draco felt. There were some dying embers on the fireplace, giving the place a fiery glow. He sat on a chair, stared at the fire until his eyes hurt. Draco loosened his tie and adjusted his sleeves, then halted his movements altogether and just sat, numbed, on the chair.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

He sat like that for an indefinite period of time, watching as the fire roared then died then soared again, thinking of how the night started, how the night held so much promise... then came that stupid, stupid Sinclair and that stupid, stupid Granger's reaction and how stupid it was that he felt absolutely guilty for hurting her when in fact he had no fault in it at all.

It was ironic. How long had they been going at each other's throats, hoping to rip it apart? How long had they shred each other's reputation, each other's pride, hoping that this revenge would hurt the other like hell? And now... the one act that hurt her the most was the one thing he didn't do.

And it was hurting him, too.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

"Well of course I'm annoyed, I mean it's our night and--oh, all right. All right! Just go and I'll wait for you. Here. Go!"

Draco glanced at the door and found Pansy coming in. She clutched her chest when she saw him. "What the--don't do that!" she said. "You scared me half to death! What are you--" Then she frowned. "Where's Granger? Don't tell me she's in here!"

He didn't answer.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, you look like someone died and you just cried in front of people and--oh, wait, you already did that." Pansy smiled, then cursed when not even a flicker of emotion showed on him. "What's the matter with you? Didn't I just see you in your cocky bastard self not more than an hour ago?"

"Ball's over?"

"No," she answered, watching him like a hawk. "But Ron decided to look for his darling Hermione because he was worried about her when you didn't bring her back."

Draco gritted his teeth. "Then tell your darling Weasley to look for her in hell because that's probably where she is."

Pansy lifted a brow. "This--this has got something to do with Georgiana being here?"

He looked at her, but didn't say a word.

She sighed loudly. "Draco--"

Loud giggles disrupted her from saying anything more.

"Why you little--tell you what, I'll be back, I'll just get--no, don't you dare, Harry Potter! Just stay there and I'll--" Blaise giggled and walked in. "Oh! You're both here. I--" Then, in all her drunken stupor she managed to see that there was something brewing in the air. "What's wrong? What happened?" She looked around. "Where're Granger and Weasley? Don't tell me you two brought them in here!" She looked highly disgusted at the thought.

Pansy glared at her. "Of course not. Ron's not here, and Draco here has a problem."

Blaise sympathetically laid a hand over his. "You've seen Sinclair's dress, haven't you?" She shook her head. "I'm telling you, there's something clinically wrong with just--"

Draco snatched his hand away. "Shut up," he said tiredly. "Get out, you two." He closed his eyes. Damn it, why didn't I go directly to my room? Why am I here?

The situation's muddling his ability to think logically and it was driving him insane. And if these two won't stop with the totally fake concern I--

"Ron!" Potter's voice clearly floated through the open door. "What--why are you--"

Weasley said something incomprehensible.

"What? What? Malfoy did what?"

Warning bells resounded in Draco's head while the two girls exchanged alarmed looks.

"Malfoy!" Weasley bellowed, stepping inside the Slytherin common room. When he saw the object of his search, his ears purpled deeper and, as it was possible, he became even more incomprehensible. "WhatthehelldidyoudotoHermioneyoudisgustinggit! She'scryinginherroombecauseofwhoknowswhatyoudidand--"

Pansy went to her. "Ron," she said, "slow down, they can't understand--"

Draco stared at him, impassive.

But Potter caught on. "Ron, Hermione... she's crying?"

"Yes!" And Weasley pointed at him. "Andallbecauseofsomethingthisferretdid!"

Potter pinned on him a murderous glare. "That is it. You've crossed the line, Malfoy."

Blaise approached him and took his hand. "Come on, Harry, I know that--well, actually I don't know what the hell's going on, but--"

"HehurtHermione! That'swhatthehell'sgoingon!"

"Shut up, Weasley, you're not helping!"

"WHAT," said Potter, managing to capitalize all his letters without as much as moving a muscle, "DID YOU DO TO HERMIONE?"

"Nothing," answered Draco calmly, challenging the two with his eyes. "I did nothing to her, and that's the truth."

"Ha! That'ssuchalieyoudisgusting--"

"I SWEAR I WILL BEAT YOU DOWN IF YOU DON'T--"

"This has been a rather repetitive night," Draco drawled, drawing himself to his feet. "I'm retiring to my room. Good night."

Then Weasley made the mistake of grabbing Draco's shoulder. "What the bloody hell do you think you're--"

And suddenly he was facing the pointy end of Draco's pointy wand.

"Draco!" shrieked Blaise.

"Ron!" cried Pansy.

"Back off, Weasley," he muttered, deadly calm. "If you want to graduate tomorrow then back off." Draco then shoved Weasley to the ground. "You too, Potter," he added, when he noticed the other boy reaching for his wand. "Don't want you to die now after everything you've been through, right?"

"Lower your wand Draco," said Blaise, the slur in her voice disappearing. "Please."

Pansy ran to the Gryffindor, concern written all over her face. "Ron, Ron, are you all right? Did he--"

"You're going to pay for this, Malfoy," swore Potter, his palms balled to fists.

Draco just smirked at him. "Funny, but with how this night ended... I think I already have."

Author's Notes: As I replied to a reader when she asked for a summary of this chapter, "Chapter 14's going from good to bad for Draco and Hermione..." Some of you... well, I know most of you already hate me, so... do you hate me more, after reading this chapter? Sorry, couldn't help but spin the story around... hehe. Sorry! ;-)

So... it's been almost a year already when I first published this story! To be honest, I was really aiming for this story as a one-shot but you gave such good reviews they boosted me to continue. So now, here we are... and I'm so glad we're almost done with this journey! Woohoo! Happy one year anniversary, everybody! -throws confetti around--

Last chapter, ladies and gentlemen. Just one more chapter and we're done... hehe, I can't wait! What would happen to Draco and Hermione? Who knows? But I hope I'll see you when it happens!