Struggling Through New Beginnings

Chapter 30

Draco's.... Draco's.... Draco's...

That one word was bouncing around in her mind like an errant ping pong ball. As if watching from outside herself, she heard herself ask Ginny, with false cheeriness, for a minute alone before she went downstairs. She'd watched Ginny nod, smile and hug her quickly before turning and walking out the door. But, in the fog that was her mind Hermione couldn't quite grasp when the door had closed, why she couldn't seem to get a deep breath, or why she was sitting on her childhood bed with her knees pulled up, her arms around them, in a beautiful outfit. 

Draco's.... Draco's.... Draco's....

Slowly it began to filter...the coming out ball part of the day had been his idea. He...he'd...he'd imagined what she would look like in her ball gown; her navy blue, sparkly, revealing ball gown.

Why? Did he know?

"Oh God!" she gasped as she stood abruptly and her hand went to her stomach. "How?!"

Her mind was awhirled with questions. How could he know? Did Pansy tell him? No, she wouldn't have, she promised. But, was I acting like I was interested? Oh, man, was I flirting with him and didn't know it? And, she did say he was interested, too. So, maybe he...But, why a dance? Why would he care what I wore? I thought he liked gre...Does he like me? Is he interested in us maybe...No. He probably just wanted to...what? He has been different so far this year. We haven't fought once, not really and sometimes when he looks at me, I...BREATHE!

Gasping loudly she shook her head slightly and straightened up. Panic would do her no good. If he knew, or suspected, she would deal with it. She would...well, she would figure it out, wouldn't she? And, if he didn't and this was some kind of sick joke on his part...well, she would deal with that, too. Right? Right!

With her bravery and a bit of righteous indignation strapped back on, she grasped the handle and flung the door open ready to face whatever came next.

As she stepped into the doorway, her eyes fell on her father in his tuxedo and her bunched shoulders relaxed as she saw the pride and admiration in his eyes. He held out his hand to her as he started in her direction and she began the walk to him as things began to move in a hazy fashion in her mind.

She remembered her first dance recital as a child when she'd fallen on stage during the dance, but her father had told her she was the most beautiful, perfect, dancing flower he'd ever seen; his encouraging wave from the side of the field before her first jumping lesson on her new horse, Phantom; and the pride in his eyes when she'd come off the train that first year at Hogwarts waving her Top of The Class papers. She smiled brightly as she thought of the way he'd looked at her all that day. His eyes held such pride and an unbelievable amount of love.

As she reached him and his hands grasped hers, she looked up into those eyes she knew and loved and could only whisper, "Thank you, Daddy. Thank you for always being you. And, thank you for always loving me."

He nodded, but had to clear his throat before he could speak, "You look beautiful, honey. Just a picture."

"Thank you. You don't clean up so bad yourself," she smiled to soften the joke.