Sour Grapes

Chapter 9 - A Talon Tap Away

Gabrielle Delacour was a vision in periwinkle blue with a sheen of magical light cascading behind her as she stepped out onto the balcony at the top of the large staircase. The high-ceilinged ornate room was beautiful on its own, yet its beauty had been magically amplified somehow. Hermione had heard of witches with Veela blood being able to transfer their magical allure to physical objects and locations for a period of time, and she wondered if that was the case here. It was a desperately enchanting scene.

Having just wrenched herself away from Rita Skeeter for what had been a most painfully intrusive interview, she now joined the throng that had been awaiting Gabrielle's entrance. Mademoiselle and Monsieur Delacour were standing at the foot of the stairs, beaming up at their beautiful daughter. Next to them stood Bill and Fleur with looks of equal admiration on their faces, three year old Victoire at their side.

A portly man in a French army uniform stood on the opposite side of the room and announced, "Ladies and gentleman! It is my distinct pleasure to present to you, Miss Gabrielle Apolline Delacour!" The crowd cheered adoringly. Hermione glanced around, smiling at the level of joy in the room, then looked up at Gabrielle. For all that she had complained about the hassle of having this party, Gabrielle truly looked to be enjoying this moment as she descended the stairs, a pair of blue-white magical doves holding up the back of her ball gown as she walked. She would be dancing first with her father, who would then proceed to pass her hand to the first eligible young man in the room who offered. It was an old tradition, participated in mostly out of loyalty and nostalgia. Hermione knew the Delacours fairly well, and while they enjoyed a spectacle, they truly didn't mind who their daughters chose to marry, so long as they were fantastically in love. Hermione smiled to herself as she watched Gabrielle begin to dance with her Father. Her heart sank a bit, as she began missing her own.

She was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of camera flashes off to her left. Bozo was lifting his camera high into the air, working to get all the right angles. Rita, however, was nowhere to be found. Hermione was extremely puzzled by this absence. Had she gone back to her office to immediately put her story to print? The horrible hag! Not even staying to cover Gabrielle's special evening? Hermione found herself longing for the days when her life was nothing that anyone could remotely relate to as a "scoop."

She glanced around the rest of the room and spotted Harry and Ginny standing together and also gazing wistfully at the dancing pair. She looked to their right and left, but her eyes did not fall upon who they were searching for. Had he gone? He must have done, after that scene with Skeeter.

Hermione hadn't known what had come over her. She had noticed a glimmer of fear in Malfoy's eyes which she had only ever seen before on the day when Katie Bell came back from St Mungos. He had been responsible for the cursed necklace that she had touched, and rather than being proud of it, he had turned ashen and run from the room. Harry had caught him in the bathroom, splashing water on his face and... sobbing. It was a difficult thing to imagine, though she knew Harry wouldn't have made it up. That day, he'd been fearing for his life. He'd looked that same way tonight, and it had acted upon her like a spell.

He had surprised her by standing up to Ron on her behalf. The way he'd stood up alongside Harry and protected her... grateful didn't begin to describe her feeling. It was also quite surreal, given that he, Malfoy, had been the one attacking her for most of her magical life. The change in his persona was giving her whiplash.

Scanning the room once more to see if Malfoy had perhaps stayed and was just blending into the background, her eyes fell upon Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They still looked blissfully unaware of their youngest son's plight, or else were hiding it well. Hermione didn't think she could handle an interaction with them, lest she fall again into a puddle of tears. She wanted to prolong the time before having that conversation as long as possible. Looking around for someone else to talk to, her gaze fell immediately upon...