Oneshots.

costume conundrum (dramione)

a spinoff to "are you wearing MY DRESS?!?"

What was supposed to be a confrontation, didn't really go quite as planned.

+ + + + +

It's the first-ever Halloween party at Hogwarts. Draco was almost positive that the staff had only began holding special gatherings to to try and "bring the houses together."

Draco is near his breaking point as it is, what with all the mushy, sappy, "I'm here for you" crap from Saint Potter and his friends. Things at Hogwarts have been tough, and he can understand if certain teachers want the houses to be there for one another, but Draco wanted no part in it.

The only reason he was attending the party in the first place was because everyone else seemed to be, and he didn't want to be left alone in the dorm with nothing to do. Besides, somebody has to spike the punch with Firewhisky, so why not him?

The party was to be in the great hall, and after Draco had finished adjusting his collar, he decided he might as well head down there. He hadn't originally planned to go to the costume party as a pirate, but things happened last minute, and he'd run out of options.

Heaven knows that he wouldn't have dressed as something from the muggle world if he had other options. There was no way that he was going to wear an eyepatch, but he did let a 6th year use some dark eyeshadow and other makeup to make him look more ghostly.

You wouldn't believe how long it took for him to grasp the concept of trick-or-treating, let alone the reason behind dressing scary for a party rather than fit.

However, he still managed to dress as appropriately as a few muggle-born Slytherins had advised.

It's so odd. Before the war, he never would've given any of them the time of day, but now everything is different.

He pushes the doors open to the great hall, and is blasted by the sound of a band that's playing on the other end of the long room. Every moving body is either on the darkened dance floor or laughing alongside the wall with glass in their hand.

There's all kinds of costumes - ghosts, monsters, nurses, and princesses, all swaying to the spooky music.

"Oi! There he is! I told you he'd come." Draco looked up to see his two friends, Parkinson and Zabini making their way towards him.

"Nice outfit, Dray. Where's the eyepatch?" Blaise taunts. Draco only scowls. "Piss off. I'm just surprised you're not completely wasted yet. It is that time, isn't it?"

Blaise just chuckles. "You're not that late, I'm only getting started." Draco only laughs at his friend, patting him on the back.

Light conversation between the friends turns into multiple sips from Blaise's flask, and before Draco Malfoy knows what's going on, his vision is incredibly blurry, and he's dancing sloppily with the rest of the group. Draco was in a completely other place.

His thoughts were mushed together along with his vision and emotions. He was taken over by a happy and wobbly feeling. Everything was calm. Just movement and dancing and laughing. That is, until a first year came around.

"Malfoy! I didn't know you were shagging Granger!"

A horrified look washed across his face. "What are you going on about, McNair? I'm not shagging anyone!" Draco was confused, defensive, and almost angry. The whole school knew how much he despised the golden trio - I mean, could he have made that any more clear? Stupid Potter and his stupid friends.

"Come off it, Malfoy! Everyone knows that two people who dress the same for a party dressed together!" The boy winks at him, but Draco's scowl only grows. "Yeah, Drake," Blaise slurs. "You didn't tell us that you were sneaking around with Gryffindor's Princess."

Draco couldn't help the eye roll that followed, and he couldn't contain his rage. "I am most certainly NOT - "

Before he could finish his sentence, someone caught his eye. There stood Granger - alongside Scarhead and the Weasel. And just as described, the witch was dressed in nearly head to toe exactly what Malfoy wore. Before he could finish the sentence to his friends, he started walking as quickly as he could towards the girl.

"Granger," he sneered. The two boys each gave him their signature glare, not that he bothered to pay them any attention.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" She asked, crossing her arms around her chest, which showed a lot more skin than he thought he'd ever see on the girl that always seemed so innocent. Then again, it was a party. "I cannot believe you! Because of your ignorance and that awful costume, everyone here thinks I'm shagging you!" Draco exclaims rather dramatically. Whereas Granger looks hardly phased.

Hermione just rolls her eyes, and looks to both of her friends. "Give me a minute, guys. I think Malfoy has had a little too much to drink."

"You sure?" The weasel asks. "Say the words, 'Mione, and I'll kick his ruddy face in."

Draco scoffs. "If you even think about laying a single finger - "

"I'm sure." Hermione interrupts. The boys walk off, rather reluctantly, leaving the couple mostly alone. Well, other than the entire room of party guests. "One of us is going to have to change." Draco says. The girl scoffs. "Oh, bugger off, Malfoy. I'm not changing. I guess you're just going to have to deal with it. God forbid anyone possibly believe that you'd ever be seen with me, the filthy mudblood."

"I don't care what people think." He says. He didn't know why he was arguing with her, but he couldn't help himself. "Oh, please."

"Fine, then, Granger. I'll prove it to you. I could care less about anyone here."

"You're drunk," she says. "You don't have to prove anything, because I know it's true."

"Oh really? So if I cared what people thought of me, would I do this?"

Before he could stop himself, he grabbed her, and kissed her senselessly. Breathlessly. Mercilessly.

And she didn't stop him.

Before the couple knew it, the entire room was clapping, cheering. There were murmurs of "Finally" and "it's about time." And Draco Malfoy could've sworn, sworn, that he saw Dumbledore slip five galleons into McGonagall's outstretched palm.