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Pride & Prejudice & Leprechauns	By : Refictionista Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 4178 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Nothing from the wizarding world of Harry Potter is mine, and I make no profit off of my writing. The fact that this story is on this site obviously implies that I am a fan writing fanfiction.

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Hermione loved balls. Ever since her roommate at Hogwarts, Miss Pavarti Patil, had shown her the wonders of using liberal amounts of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion before the Yule Ball their fourth year, she had no reason to abhor them. The hair care potion was too troublesome for everyday use, but to look like a proper lady for an evening once in awhile was quite a treat.

The Ministry’s Annual Victory Celebration Ball was a glittering event. It was the event, and Hermione was overjoyed to be an honored participant at the festivities. Everywhere she looked, she saw something that made the evening special in the ways that only magic could make happen. After the obligatory speeches, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes provided the Wildfired Whizz-Bangs, and Hermione thought that they were wonderful fireworks.

The celebration continued into the evening as the attendees moved into the main atrium of the Ministry building. Enthusiastic witches and wizards danced in beautifully choreographed movements across the floor. Ron asked Hermione for the first dance, and they talked and laughed in the most pleasant manner.

He had yet to compliment her on her hair or her new gown, or offer any compliment for that matter, but she was certain he would follow proper etiquette at some point. She knew that would have to come later, as there were more witches than wizards on the dance floor, and Ron felt obliged to ask another young witch to dance. She saw him hold out his hand to Miss Lavender Brown. Hermione therefore passed the time in a lively and dreamlike conversation with Miss Luna Lovegood.

Then, a hush settled over the crowds and the music died down.

A small party had entered the assembly room. It consisted of only five altogether: Draco Malfoy, his parents, and his good friends Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, who was engaged to Mr. Theodore Nott, already in attendance.

Blaise was good-looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners; he immediately locked gazes with Luna and asked to partner with her for the next dance. However, his friend Draco soon drew the attention of the whole room by his fine, tall person and aristocratic features. He wore a beautiful green coat with silver embroidery. Lace gathered at his throat and over his hands. He was cold and masculine, with waves of authority and arrogance emanating from him.

It soon became clear to Hermione that Draco was still the proudest, most disagreeable pureblooded wizard in the world. She had been obliged, by the scarcity of wizards, to sit down for two dances; and during that time, Draco had been standing near enough for her to hear a conversation between him and Blaise, who came from the dance for a few minutes, to press his friend to join it.

“Come, Draco,” said he, “I must have you kick up your heels. I hate to see you standing about by yourself like a goblin after tax season.”

“I certainly shall not. You know how I detest dancing, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this it would be insupportable. Pansy’s dance card is full, and there is not another witch in the room with whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up with.”

“Upon my honor!” cried Blaise, “I never met with so many pleasant witches in my life as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”

“You are dancing with the only handsome witch in the room,” said Draco, looking at Luna.

“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her friends sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

“Which do you mean?” and turning round he looked for a moment at Hermione. Upon catching her eye, he withdrew his own and coldly said, “I know Miss Granger; she works at the Auror office. She is tolerable, for a Muggle-born that is, but I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young witches who are slighted by other wizards. You had better return to your partner and enjoy her dreamlike smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.”

Blaise followed his advice. Draco walked off, and Hermione remained with no very cordial feelings toward him. She told the story, however, with great spirit among her friends; she had a lively, playful disposition, which delighted in anything ridiculous.

Later that evening, Luna begged Hermione to change her views of her interest’s best friend, and bade her join their party in conversation. As they walked across the room, Luna could not help cautioning her in a whisper not to be a simpleton, and allow her highly speculated fancy for Ron to make her appear unpleasant in the eyes of a man ten times his consequence. Hermione made no answer, and took her place in the group’s circle, amazed at the dignity to which she was arrived in being allowed to stand opposite to Draco, and reading in Pansy’s looks, equal amazement in beholding it.

Pansy eyed her with distaste in a look that all but commented aloud regarding her blood status, and made her excuses to go find Theo. Blaise and Luna made happy conversation, punctuated by simple and short replies from the other two. When a waltz was announced, Blaise and Luna took their leave to join the dancers.

Hermione and Draco stood for some time without speaking a word; and she began to imagine that their silence was to last until one of them had an excuse to take their leave as well, and at first was resolved not to break it; till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater punishment to oblige him to talk, she made some slight observation on the dance. He replied, and was again silent. After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with: “It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Malfoy. I talked about the dance, and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”

He smiled, and assured her that whatever she wished him to say should be said.

“Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent.”

“Are you like your weird and free-spirited friend or do you talk by rule?”

“Sometimes one must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent; and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged, as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible.”

“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?”

“Both,” replied Hermione archly, “for I have always seen a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room, and be handed down to posterity with all the brilliance of a proverb.”

“This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure,” said he. “How near it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it a faithful portrait undoubtedly.”

“I must not decide on my own performance.”

He made no answer, and they were again silent till another round of dancers swirled by, when he asked her if she enjoyed her research work in the Auror Office. She answered in the affirmative, and, unable to resist the temptation, added, “Perhaps if you had been there yesterday, you would have been assigned the latest case involving the illegal trade of cursed four-leaf clovers. As it stands, Auror Weasley and I have been assigned as partners.”

The effect was immediate. A deeper shade of hauteur overspread his features, but he said not a word, and Hermione, though blaming herself for her own weakness, could not go on. At length Draco spoke, and in a constrained manner said, “Mr. Weasley is blessed with such happy bravery as may ensure his catching Dark Wizards—whether he may be equally capable of retaining partners is less certain.”

“I have heard that he has been so unlucky as to lose your partnership,” replied Hermione with emphasis, “and in a manner which he is likely to suffer for the rest of his career.”

Draco did not deign to answer, and seemed desirous of changing the subject.

“I have quite some expertise in dealing with the fair folk, and I confess my surprise that the assignment did not go to me,” he said staunchly. “Tell me, how goes your case?”

“Little has passed thus far,” she admitted. “I have yet to delve into the appropriate research and only know the bare essentials of the case. I’ve spoken with Miss Luna Lovegood,” she paused with a happy smile as she looked at Luna and Blaise dancing, “as she is an expert in finding rational explanations when the situation is irrational to all others.”

The latter part of this address was scarcely heard by Draco; but Hermione’s allusion to her friend seemed to strike him forcibly, and his eyes were directed with a very serious expression towards Blaise and Luna, who were dancing together. Recovering himself, however, shortly, he turned to Hermione, and said, “The mention of your fanciful friend has made me forget what we were talking of, for I worry that Zabini has so attached himself to her."

“I do not think we were speaking at all. The mention of my dear friend could not have interrupted two people in the room who had less to say for themselves. We have tried two or three subjects already without success, and what we are to talk of next I cannot imagine.”

“What do you think of books?” said he, smiling.

“Books, oh! No. I am sure we never read the same, as I prefer Muggle authors.”

“I am sorry you think so; but if that be the case, there can at least be no want of subject. We may compare our different opinions on the opposing styles of wizards and Muggles.”

“No, only one prejudiced and ignorant of both styles would believe them to be of opposing natures,” she replied, without knowing what she said, for her thoughts had wandered far from the subject, as soon afterwards appeared by her suddenly exclaiming, “I remember hearing you once say, Mr. Malfoy, that you hardly ever associated with those inferior to yourself, that your resentment once created was unappeasable. You are very cautious, I suppose, as to its being created.”

“I am,” said he, with a firm voice.

“And you think you have never allowed yourself to be blinded by prejudice?”

“I hope not.”

“It is particularly incumbent on those who never change their opinion, to be secure of judging properly at first.”

“May I ask to what these questions tend?”

“Merely to the illustration of your character,” said she, endeavoring to shake off her gravity. “I am trying to make it out.”

She shook her head. “I do not get on at all. I hear such different accounts of you as puzzle me exceedingly.” For what, thought Hermione, was Draco Malfoy, the renowned prejudiced pure-blooded scion, doing entertaining a conversation with a Muggle-born witch?

She said no more, and they parted in silence; and on each side dissatisfied, though not to an equal degree, for in Draco’s breast there was a tolerable powerful feeling towards her, which soon procured her pardon, and directed all his anger against another.
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Pride & Prejudice & Leprechauns