Damaged Goods by slytherin_after_dark

Chapter 18

- NOT MY STORY!! ALL CREDITS TO @slytherin_after_dark ON A03!!
-

She was nervous even though she shouldn't be because this wasn't a date. It hadn't helped that Pansy had practically broken into Hermione's room and insisted on doing her makeup. The dress, she had to admit, looked beautiful. It fit her like a glove. The silk hugging her just right.

Pansy also brought different heels and Hermione had to break it to her that she wasn't too experienced walking in them. Pansy settled on the lowest heels she owned, which were still too high for Hermione's taste.

At least there was one small victory. Hermione had insisted on meeting Malfoy at the Ministry rather than having him pick her up.

Not a date, she repeated in her head as she arrived via Floo at the tunnels of the Ministry. When. she walked across the polished floor, she could see Malfoy standing by the fountain. Hands in his pockets, his eyes followed her every move. Damn it, did he have to look this fucking handsome in a suit? Not a date. Not a date.

When she stood in front of him and his eyes traveled down the length of her body, he opened his mouth. "You look—"

She held up a hand. "None of that. You shouldn't even have sent me the dress, which is lovely by the way. This is a pretend date."

He smirked. "I must not be familiar with the rules of pretend dates."

Then he held out his arm for her. She stared at him befuddled for a moment.

"I believe, for this to be a believable date, we should have some sort of physical closeness, wouldn't you agree?"

She sighed, linked her arm through his, and let him lead her.

"What's the plan?" She asked the second they entered the ballroom.

"Desperate to get out of here already, Granger?" That stupid grin was going to be plastered on his face all night.

"I'm serious."

"Whenever are you not?"

She might have to kill him. People were dancing and drinking around them. A string quartet played music on a stage.

"Let's wait a few songs until the majority of them are too drunk to notice anything else," he said.

"Fine, what do we do until then?"

"It's a ball, Granger. I'd assume we dance."

Her mouth went dry. Dancing hadn't been part of the agreement. "You said you can't dance."

"No, I specifically remember to have said that I don't dance. There is a clear difference between the two. But since we're trying to blend in, I'd assume it would look rather odd if we came all this way and weren't dancing."

He held a hand out to her and Merlin help her, she took it.

He led her to the dance floor and once the next song began, he pulled her closer, a hand elegantly placed on her lower back. He moved her with effortless ease and controlled precision. In a way, it reminded her of his dueling technique. He was quick on his feet, not missing a single step. His silver eyes watched her carefully and a smirk tugged on his lips.

"You can say it," he encouraged.

"I'm not going to say it." She waited a beat but it irritated her all a bit too much. "Fine, can you be bad at something?"

He laughed. "Does that mean I am a better dancer than that idiot Potter set you up with last time?"

"A lady doesn't dance and tell."