ILLUSION | A Dramione Fanfiction

Chapter 10

Chapter 10 - The Spring Dance

It was the day of the Spring Dance, two hours before the event started and Hermione sat in the dressing room, frustrated beyond belief. There were two reasons for her infuriation. The first was Narcissa Malfoy, who, despite Hermione's protest, had insisted that the latter starter preparing for the Spring Dance, a whole five hours before it actually began. The main reason was of course that Hermione would be going with Draco, and therefore be representing the Malfoy family, who settled for nothing but the absolute best.

Very reluctantly, muttering under her breath about pompous purebloods, Hermione had followed the dressing maid, hired solely for the occasion, to be pampered and polished. After spending forty-five minutes in a vanilla and jasmine scented bath, she was dragged to a large dressing table, where her hair had been attacked by no less than three hairdressers. They had slaves away for more than an hour, pulling at Hermione's impossible hair, curling it around their wands, muttering various incantations and poured various potions over it to ensure that it did not look anything like its usual "bird nest" as Draco now called it.

Then it was time for her manicure and pedicure. Hermione's nails had been trimmed, buffed and polished into a beautiful French manicure. That process took half an hour, and it was at this point that Hermione began to see exactly why Narcissa had recommended five hours, but the thought did nothing to help her stress levels or high blood pressure.

As the beautician applied powder to her face, Hermione thought back to the second reason of her frustration. You see, she had been fast asleep, dreaming of now only Merlin knows what, when a particular albino ferret and decided to pour a rather large glass of water over her head. She woke up, screaming like a banshee on cocaine, insisting that it wasn't at all her fault and upon seeing the ferret's all too innocent face at the foot of the bed, trying its best not to burst into hysterics, she had completely lost it. Her face turned a shade of purple Harry's Uncle Vernon would have been proud of as she got up and chased Draco around the bedroom until he had bolted into the bathroom, instantly locking the door behind him in a desperate event to avoid being hit over the head with and awfully pink and fluffy bunny slipper. He came out ten minutes later only to have said slipper chucked at his head. But Hermione, who was both furious and had a terrible aim, missed him by no less than two feet.

Cursing in her mind at the arrogant prat, Hermione swore to herself that if Draco were to act the way he did his morning at the Spring Dance, she would blast him into oblivion. With that satisfying thought in mind, Hermione smiled contently, closing her eyes so that the beautician could apply eyeshadow to her lids.

"Daddy, what's that?" Asked Nick, pointing at the fifty-foot high quidditch goals at the end of a world cup sized pitch.

"That is the quidditch pitch." Replied Draco, smiling when he saw the little blonde's eyes go wide and his expression changed to one of pure delight.

"Cool! Uncle Hawwy and Uncle Ron always talk about quidditch. They say it's the best game ever invented."

"Do they now? Well as surprising as it sounds, I actually agree with them there."

"I wish I could fly." Said Nick out of the blue.

Draco stared in shock. "You-you mean you can't fly?" He asked incredulously.

"No." Said Nick sadly, pouting slightly "Mummy says it's too dangerous to fly, says it's not safe. One time uncle Harry let me use one with his help, but that was a very long time ago."

Draco thought back to the photo of Nick floating a few feet from the ground. "Typical Granger!" Groaned Draco. "Of course, she'd say that. I swear that woman takes the fun out of everything. Then again, it's probably because she can't fly herself."