Just Between You and Me-A DraMione story

Title: Just Between You and Me
Author: Yours truly, Padfoot
Ship: Draco M./Hermione G.
Rating: T, to be sure
Summary: The fourth year Yule Ball took an interesting turn for a certain Slytherin and Gryffindor.
Hermione Granger was fraternizing with the enemy. Or that's what Ron Weasley said so.

She felt betrayed and offended with what her friend has to say. She couldn't accept that he thought so and that even Harry sided with him. What's wrong with having fun for one night with a person who appreciates you for who you are and not how you look? She huffed. It was his entire bloody fault anyway. If he had asked her earlier, in a rather polite manner, too, then she would have him as her partner tonight. But he didn't. And his snide remarks about her femininity which was definitely obvious made her feel worse.

Then she showed up at the Yule Ball, her hair no longer bushy, her dress accenting her curves and her simple makeup donned on her angular face. From the looks of the people around her, she could tell that her appearance was totally unexpected. She grinned and gave herself a good pat on the back for a job well done.

But her happiness was short-lived. The only night where she felt really beautiful on the outside was also the night where a friend of hers became a jerk and accused her of hobnobbing with the enemy which was Viktor Krum.

She sat on the abandoned staircase away from the sounds and the merriment at the Great Hall and cried her eyes out while hugging her knees.


Draco Malfoy was bored to death. The Yule Ball was not as exciting as he thought it would be. It actually turned out to be a complete waste of time. Potter and Weasley walked out shortly after the Champions' Dance started and if he could, he would've stopped them from going because he hasn't gone to torment them for that night. That would definitely make his night. The victory would be the Scarhead and the Ginger being humiliated in front of everyone.

He frowned inwardly. He never had the chance to do that. Because the two dunderheads had a huge row with their Mudblood friend, Granger causing the both of them to leave.

Granger. Bloody Granger.

Luck really wasn't on his side that night and even his mind flew out of the window. He actually thought that Hermione Granger looked pretty. No, not pretty but beautiful. He couldn't believe that he actually thought about that so he mentally reprimanded himself as soon as it entered his fogged mind.

Well, everyone gaped at her, too. They never expected to see the Gryffindor know-it-all on the arms of the Durmstrang Champion, Viktor Krum, looking like she was transfigured into someone else, someone gorgeous and glowing. Even Draco was so shocked that he actually got tongue-tied and eventually swallowed all the insults he has been reserving for each of the Golden Trio.

But other than that, the Yule Ball was completely uneventful. Except that Pansy kept throwing herself at him and insisting that they could always do a business of some sort alone. He had the urge to shudder for he was never comfortable with innuendos although he kept saying those at times but tonight, he felt oddly different. He had eyes for another.

But that another has left.

"Hermy-own-ninny?" Viktor Krum called out to the large crowd hoping to see his bushy-haired—yet not anymore—date. He was holding two glasses of butterbeer for them to share but he frowned when no shadow of her appeared to be inside the Hall. The Durmstrang lad put down the butterbeers on a nearby table and headed out to look for Granger.

Oh, the gallantry. Draco nearly laughed in sarcasm. It looked like the famous Quidditch player was like most Gryffindors. Always thriving to do good.

But amidst his mirth in seeing Krum act all Gryffindor, he wondered where Granger might be. She didn't look well when she left. Not that he noticed.

He had to mentally battle with himself before sighing and setting down his pumpkin juice. He would just go get some fresh air and if he found Granger, then wonderful luck. He groaned. His mind sarcasm was losing its touch.

With his hands on the pockets of his elegant robes, he strode out of the Great Hall, hopefully unnoticed. He couldn't afford someone to accuse him of looking for Hermione Granger. He'd rather be caught dead.

December air was chilly, as expected but there was little snow.  The weather was right for the Christmas season and he rather liked it. Probably because the moon looked regal and outstanding above the rain of white snow like how purebloods like him stand above the rest.

The hallway leading to the Potions classroom was eerily quiet and deserted. Except for the hushed sobs resonating from the bottom of the staircase leading to the dungeons.

"Hello?" he called. The sobs stopped. "Anybody there?"

No one answered but he was sure there was someone there because her silhouette was the only thing to see on that dark staircase. She was wiping her face with a white cloth before finally turning his way. "Malfoy?"

Her croaked voice indicating a sign of her silent cries, proved to Draco that it was her. It was Hermione Granger. Her dress which looked simple yet elegant the first time Draco laid his eyes on it was rumpled to the sides. Her face was tear-streaked and her brown eyes glittered with another batch of tears for another round of crying. Her perfectly coiffed hair was now disheveled. In short, she was a mess.

"Granger," he greeted her with a curt nod. "Wallowing in self-pity, I see."

His comment had struck a nerve in Granger's defense. Her eyes sparkled once more, now in fierce determination, and she glared at him convincingly. "Self-pity? You think I'm wallowing in bloody self-pity?" she scoffed. "Never."

"Well, it looks like it. Pothead and Weasel actually left you alone earlier after that argument you had with them. Since you're a Gryffindor, then you must be taking the blame all to yourself," he explained, feeling the need to. He expected her to cry again or snap at him for his comment but she did neither. She just sat and bowed her head even more, feeling more dejected than ever.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, Granger finally spoke up before he had the chance to turn away. "I'm not. Taking all the blame, that is. I felt betrayed, actually that my own friends would rather believe that I was fraternizing with the enemy than giving me the time to be happy for the first time."

Draco never expected such admittance from her to him, who was supposedly one of the enemies. Won't it be fraternizing, too, if she was talking to him like he was her confidante?

He cleared his throat awkwardly and then cursing himself before sitting primly on one of the steps above her keeping a fair distance from the distraught Gryffindor. "Who are they to give judgments about your choices?"


His question nearly brought Hermione to her feet. She hadn't realized that the blonde stayed instead of walking away to report to his Slytherin friends of his triumph seeing Hermione Granger crying by the staircase. She cautiously looked up at the Slytherin who caught her eyes as soon as she held her face up. His nonchalant expression was expected but she never anticipated that it was a forced one.

"W-What do you mean?" she sputtered. She hadn't meant to confess her feelings out loud earlier because she fully intended it to be on her head. The words just slipped out from her mouth maybe because there was someone willing to be vented out to.

But Malfoy was not someone you'd like to confide in with your secrets. You're never really sure if your secret would still be one after a few hours.

"I mean, aren't they just friends of yours? They're surely not your parents, I really hope not, so they shouldn't be accusing you of the things you do out of your own free will. If you get harmed, that would all be your own bloody fault, not theirs entirely," he muttered. She stared at him in disbelief. Who knew Malfoy could spout out words of wisdom?

"You're right," Hermione unconsciously conceded. This caused the blonde to raise his pair of golden eyebrows in incredulity and astonishment. "What?"

Malfoy put on his trademark smirk and said, "I think you just complimented me, Granger. I thought I was just an evil, foul, loathsome, little cockroach?"

Hermione was sure that he was exaggerating with his own retelling of that fortunate incident in third year. She felt triumphant at the flashback that she grinned up at the Slytherin behind her.


Draco leaned back—he hadn't noticed that he was leaning over the witch earlier—and gulped nervously. She looked victorious at the moment and he knew that she was recalling that resounding slap she gave him last year. He guessed that Granger was planning to do it again.

"Whatever you're planning, Granger, leave me out of it. I was trying to help you here," he said, swearing inwardly when he stuttered at first. Curse the Gryffindor for bringing out such reactions in him.

Granger shrugged nonchalantly. "I wasn't planning to do something, Malfoy," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I'm just…well, grateful."

"Grateful?" he spat. Granger just raised a delicate eyebrow and regarded him with a shadow of a smile on her lips.

"I caught you off guard, didn't I?" she teased and then chuckled softly to herself. "You made me feel better with your back-handed way of giving advice."

Draco knew he wasn't capable of being in civil terms with a Gryffindor, especially with one of Scarhead's loyal friends, but he knew that he does now. He was actually having a civil conversation with Granger sans their wands pointed at each other. His smirk grew more pronounced. "But of course. I am a Malfoy, after all."

With that, Hermione Granger shared a laugh with Draco Malfoy. Hell has officially frozen over.


"Do you want to dance?" Malfoy announced suddenly after a few moments of awkward silence that preceded their shared laughter. She looked up at him again and was surprised to see that even he was astonished that he actually voiced out the offer. "It's okay if you don't want to. It was just a polite offer, you know, because I haven't danced at all tonight and it was funny for me to call it a Ball when some, including me, hadn't even—"

She chuckled softly and remarked, "You're being oddly gullible now."

Malfoy pursed his lips at an instant that Hermione felt guilty for cutting him off his explanations. "I mean it in a good way, Malfoy."

"How can being gullible be meant in a good way?" he retorted, clearly frustrated that he was humiliated by a muggleborn Gryffindor like her.

She sighed and then stood up. She faced him determinedly and bravely held her hand out. "It was a teasing joke. Sorry if it offended you. But if the offer still stands, I would like to have the dance."

He glanced suspiciously at her outstretched hand before accepting it tentatively. She knew his mind was reeling with the fact that he was holding the hand of a Mudblood and that she was the one to offer her hand, not otherwise.


Draco kept a respectable distance from Granger. It was a surreal moment that he wondered if he was in a dream. He slowly placed his hands on either side of her slim waist and she, on the other hand, raised her arms to put her hands on his shoulders. The stiffness in their actions proved that they were perfectly uncomfortable with their positions.

She was avoiding his eyes as she proceeded to look at his shoes which seemed interesting at the moment. He was looking everywhere but for the witch in front of him.

"This won't do," she grumbled suddenly. Draco looked down at her and furrowed his brows in confusion. She sighed heavily and laughed silently. "There's no music."

That simple sentence shook Draco's nerves. He relaxed at that instant and after she flicked her wand to conjure music out of nowhere, awkwardness was gone. She smiled up at him and he, in answer, gave him the barest hint of a smile.


As they swayed to the music, Hermione knew Malfoy—Draco—was slowly changing. She, then, casually leaned on his shoulder and she felt him tense.

She giggled despite herself. "Did I scare you?"

The blonde shook his head immediately, determined not to speak. The music went on for a few minutes and they continued to be in that position, swayed by the surrealism of the moment.

When she knew that was enough, she heaved a deep sigh and then pulled away from the embrace.


Draco didn't do anything wrong, for that he was sure. But Granger pulled away in a jiffy after breathing heavily. She shot him another grateful smile and he returned it with a smirk of his own. But when they tried to move from their places, they realized that they were frozen on their spot.

"What the—" Draco exclaimed when he tried to get away in vain. Granger—erm, Hermione—was also struggling to move.

"W-What is this?" she asked, squirming.

He shrugged and then chanced a look up. And there it was. Above them in all its glory, was the enchanted mistletoe.

"Bloody hell," he muttered in frustration as he heard a faint sound of crazy laugh above the staircase. He shared a knowing look with Hermione and they both said, "Peeves."

"How can we get out of this? I don't want to be stuck here forever," he complained. Hermione sniffed in disgust.

"As if I would like that myself," she murmured, inaudibly. "We couldn't do anything—"—Draco groaned—"—except…"

"We kiss," he stated dryly.

Irritated, Hermione spat, "You're not the only one who felt disgusted with that idea—"

Draco crossed the short distance between them and smirked, "Who said I was disgusted?"

Then he leaned over and kissed her full on the lips. She was unresponsive but he didn't mind. Her thoughts went overdrive; her reason flew out of the window. She circled her arms around his neck and sighed inwardly. Who knew Malfoy could bring her to the point of hysteria with an earth-shattering kiss?

Before she knew it, he pulled away and she opened her eyes—she hadn't even realized that she closed them—only to see his trademark smirk again.

"Not bad, Granger," was all he said before walking away.

Hermione was confused and at the same time, dazed. What did he ever mean?

Draco, on the other hand, grinned impishly as he walked away from the witch. He knew he hated Granger less now.


FIN