Dance With Me (DM&HG)

Dance With Me

My Eyes by the Lumineers

December 24th, 1994

"Dance with me."

Hermione looks up, from where she curled into herself on steps. She frowns in confusion at the hand that's hovering before her face. That confusion quickly turns to anger when she sees who is offering that hand.

"Leave me alone Malfoy, I'm not in the mood." She sniffles and wipes her face to try and regain some dignity.

"Just dance with me, Granger." His hand is still outstretched in front of her. His position slightly bowed to reach down to her.

Hermione looks around the hall, to see if his friends are waiting and laughing at her humiliation.

"I don't want any part of whatever sick joke you're playing Malfoy, I told you I'm not in the mood." And with that said, she rises from her place on the steps, grabs her shoes, and begins her ascent.

She hears a growl from behind her. An actual growl. She pauses, a foot hovering over the next step. Malfoy rounds on her position to stand above her and grabs the hand that isn't holding her shoes. She stumbles a bit as he attempts to lead her back down the stairs, towards the emptying Great Hall.

He stops suddenly before entering and she nearly rams into his back. "Put your shoes on" he all but demands and turns around to face her. Shocked as she was, she put her shoes on. She was so surprised that he had actually touched her, that she felt herself faltering and simply doing as she was told. Once her shoes were righted on her feet once more, she looks back up to him with a bewildered expression. He simply shrugs and takes her hand once more, pulling her into the mostly deserted Great Hall.

Once they reach the dance floor, he positions them correctly, his hand slightly shaking as it curls around her waist, the other clutching at the hand. She can do nothing but gape at him as he begins to push forward, making her step back. The music is beautiful, and calming. A slow dance song. She stares at him, his grey eyes reaching somewhere above her head. He is practically the same height as her, but his straight back posture makes him seem taller, with her clutched in his grip.

They dance in silence, while Hermione gets over the shock at what is actually happening at this moment.

"Why" She whispers, sensing the strained atmosphere. He doesn't reply for a while, as they continue to dance, and one song bleeds into two.

"Because I wanted to dance with the witch that stole the night." She looks up at him sharply. She is tempted to snatch herself out of his grip. She doesn't want to play his game, whatever that may be.

"I don't understand," she says resolutely. He has the nerve to smirk in response as he lowers his eyes to her.

"I wanted to dance with the girl that made every male in the room forget about their dates, the one that made everyone stop and stare." Her breath hitches at his words. He just stares back, his eyes boring a hole straight through her. She doesn't know what to say back, it feels like her brain has just stopped firing.

He looks away again, his eyes above her head and she studies him. She takes him in. His blonde hair and grey eyes, so distinctive, so different. Nobody else looks like Malfoy, it's a little jarring, to be in the arms of everything the wizarding world has come down to. The perfect pureblood, the act of hundreds of witches and wizards breeding to have the perfect line, the perfect wizard.

He looks strange, she thinks, she only ever saw him when his features were turned ugly, sneering or spitting hateful words in her direction, she had never seen him looking so... so normal. She searches his face for a lie, for the hint of a sneer at the corner of his lips, or the hatred usually centred in his eyes. She finds nothing.