Chapter Text
The Heroes Gala was one of the worst ideas the Ministry could have had. Hermione tensed her fists as she stood in front of the mirror, golden fabric clung to her sparse curves. The bones still stuck out a bit too much after starving in the war. She couldn’t see herself as beautiful no matter how much they’d gilded her. And how they’d gilded her. She trailed her fingers over the dusting along her collarbones. It emphasized the hollowness of her chest. She hated it. The detailed golden crown curled through her hair.
Ronald tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow, his dress robes were a far cry from the gaudy robes he wore at the ball in school. She turned from the mirror to look at him head on. He’d worked hard to build back his body after the war, his shoulders filled out the coat in a way she knew was desirable. He never did shrink away from attention the way she had. Even Harry, Chosen One and Hero of the Wizarding World, did not soak up the affection of strangers quite like Ronald had this year. She ran her hands over his robes, smoothing them over his shoulders and down his muscled biceps.
He grinned, a lopsided raise of his right dimpled right cheek. “You can grope me later, we’re going to be late.”
Her lips twitched, a smile pushing to the surface. She dreaded this gala. Being late was a great idea, they should be so late that they miss it entirely. Ron would never allow that, though. He’d been looking forward to this day in a way no one else likely had. She wasn’t ready to return to Hogwarts. To stand in the Great Hall with the new ghosts and portraits of those they’d lost. Her hands left sweat streaks down her dress that Ronald quickly vanished away. He lifted her chin with the tip of his finger, a soft smile on his face, “It’s going to be alright, Mine.”
She nodded and tucked her shaking hand back in the dip of his elbow. He led her through their manor. She’d never imagined she’d have a manor, but when you get an Order of Merlin, First Class, it comes with certain royalties. Vaults full of them, to be precise. They walked outside beyond their wards and Ronald lifted the invitation in his hand. She took it in hers and he whispered, “First Anniversary.” The portkey activated, twisting and pulling at her already sickened stomach and deposited them into the Great Hall.
She marveled at the way the castle repaired itself. The twinkling of lights and the wonder around them. For one blissful moment, she knew peace. Then, the guests noticed them. Or rather, heard Ronald loudly comment something she didn’t hear. Hands were on them instantly, pulling her and her attention around the room. The Golden Girl. And didn’t she look so lovely? She shook as she met the concerned ghostly eyes of Remus Lupin. It was a horrible idea to come here. Too soon. Too fresh.
Harry stood on the stage, welcoming everyone in a Ministry prepared speech. She knew he hated this as much as she did, but if she didn’t, she would think he was completely genuine. He was always better at putting on a face than she was. Not that anyone noticed. Anyone but the ghosts. Hermione swallowed thickly as Harry captivated the audience. She slipped back, avoiding the guests as she slowly exited the Great Hall. As soon as she’d slipped away, she ran, her heels in her hands as she rushed for anywhere to hide.
The Room of Requirement was already there waiting for her. She cursed and flew inside, running smack into a firm body. “I’m sorry.” A deep voice said just as she was uttering the same apology. Strong hands gripped her biceps and held her still. She looked up into Draco Malfoy’s ice grey eyes.
She should have known it would be him. He swallowed, his throat bobbing at her eye level. He dropped his hands quickly, nearly pushing her with the force of his release. She staggered back and looked around the room. It was all cosiness and green. This wasn’t her hideaway. It was his. Her face softened as she took in the small tremor of his hands, his thin bones poked through the collar of his shirt.
“Can I hide with you?” she asked. She didn’t know why she did. The castle was full of places to hide. She could have left and found somewhere else. Anywhere else and hidden away completely alone. Draco jerked his head in a nod and dropped onto the soft couch in the middle of the room. She slowly sat with enough distance between them to hold three more people. Draco cracked his knuckles, twisting his neck side to side. The silk of her skirts twisted and wrinkled under her hands.
“What do you have to hide from?” Draco whispered with a bit of a bite. “Golden Girl comes on the arm of the Chosen One’s sidekick. Everyone adores her and asks her to kiss their babies.”
A small laugh blew through her nostrils. “And you…the poor reformed Death Eater. Ready to bring on the new world.”
He laughed without humour, his head hung over the back of the couch. “The Brightest Witch of Her Age. The brain of the Golden Trio.”
“The Ponciest Wizard of His Age. The strutter of the Death squad.”
“Death squad?” He laughed, a squeak of surprise as he bowled over and held his stomach. “And I do not strut.”
“Sure.” She leaned back, her cheek against the back of the couch. “And I’m not brilliant.”
His lips twitched, a whisper of a smile as his eyes locked on hers. “It’s awful isn’t it?”
She nodded, “Ronald loves it, but I-” She looked down at her dress, “I feel like a dressed up skeleton.”
Draco chuckled, “You look like a dressed up skeleton.”
“Speak for yourself,” Hermione swatted at him, “you’re all bones and skin in a fancy suit.”
He adjusted his lapels, “Poncy bones and skin.”
“The ponciest.” She smiled. They relaxed some, the tightness and tension in the room faded as they lean back in the cushions. Hermione could breath for the first time. No one wanted her attention. No one looking at her to be the Golden Girl. She was just Granger. She trailed her hands over the skirts, smoothing out the wrinkles that refused to settle. She knew they were likely looking for her. Hunting for her in the castle. She wondered if she’d missed her turn on stage. Did Harry take over saying her lines? Did Ronald have to dance with one of his admirers when she was no where to be found?
Maybe no one cared. He certainly didn’t notice the way she withered away while he flourished. Draco kicked her shoe with the side of his. She hadn’t even noticed him scooting closer. He arched a brow in question. She closed her eyes tight, “do you ever feel like you’re drowning under the weight of everyone’s expectation?”
Draco whistled, “yes.” He brushed his hands over his trousers. “Which is why we need to go back.” She pulled her brows together in confusion, not following his train of thought. “Everyone expects me to do something evil here. Sneaking off with the Golden Girl?”
She laughed, “like anyone would believe you snuck off with me.” She stood and spelled her silk to rights. “I’ll leave first, you can wait ten minutes…Just in case.” She slid out of the Room of Requirement and made her way back to the Great Hall.
“There you are!” Ron whisked her into his arms and onto the dance floor. She felt eyes on them all around the room as he spun her. It was just her, Ron, Harry, and Ginny dancing in the centre of the room while the crowd looked on. Ginny grinned up at Harry as if this was the greatest day of her life. Ronald’s hands slid down her waist. “Where were you?”
“Just…needed to get away.” She assured him with a small smile, but her eyes weren’t on him, they were on the tall, skeletal form by the wall with a drink in his hand. He lifted his drink to her in quiet acknowledgment.
Ronald dragged her onto the stage, she held his hand like a lifeline while he smiled at the crowd from the side of the stage waiting for their turn. She forced her own smile onto her face. Harry kissed Ginny’s hand before he joined them on the stage. He whispered in her ear, “you look like you’re being crucioed.”
“I’ve been crucioed.” She hissed back through a false smile, “I think I’d prefer it.” A small chuckle surprised her from behind. She turned to see Malfoy rolling his lips in to hold back his smile.
“Malfoy.” Ronald greeted, his name like an insult on his tongue.
“Weasley.” He said in response, the name more like a joke than an insult, but it landed all the same. Hermione pressed her hand to Ron’s chest to stop him from making a scene up on stage.
“I didn’t realise they were going to have you speak.” She whispered as Draco’s eyes went from Ron to her. “Something poncy, no doubt.”
Ronald chuckled, his arm heavy around her, “good one, Mione.” Draco’s eyes sparkled.
“Well, they needed someone of class up here. It is a gala after all.” He fixed his tie and straightened his robes.
“Come, come, it’s your time.” The minister’s secretary clapped her hands and ushered them to the front of the stage where the crowd locked on them. Hermione shook under their gaze. Draco scooted forward, he pressed into her slightly a firm presence from behind. A reassurance. She exhaled and waited for Ron to get them started.
At his greeting, the crowd cheered. Awe filled eyes looked up at him. Hermione forced her breaths in and out, they all looked at her. They all…wanted something from her. She shook, her breaths could not slow, her heart could not calm. Ron nudged her. It was her turn, but her tongue was heavy in her mouth. She could not lift it. Harry looked at her and whispered, but she did not hear what he said. Ron said something to the crowd, the faces laughed, still looking up at her.
Draco stepped closer from behind and spoke, his wand at his throat, “Sorry everyone, she’s much better with a book.” The crowd shifted from her to him. Contempt on their faces and uncomfortable laughter rippled from them. He shifted away from her, pulling the eyes with him as he stood on the opposite end of the stage. “Today, and all days, we remember those who died under Tom Riddle’s reign of terror. Whether you were raised to be dark or a beacon of light.” His eyes met hers for a moment, “We all owe our lives to the heroes we honour here tonight. I will forever mourn my part in this war and be grateful for those who were brave enough to stand against the dark.”
Hermione breathed easier as Draco took all the focus on himself. He said her part and his own. He took on all of the crowds rage and distrust. Ron tensed beside her as Draco finished and canceled his charm. “You just have to take all the attention on yourself.”
Draco flicked his eyes up and down Ronald in disinterest, “don’t worry, Weasley, it’s all yours.” His eyes met Hermione’s and flickered away dismissively save for the slight lift of the corner of his mouth.
“Chosen One.” Draco mock bowed.
Harry rolled his eyes and turned his back on Draco as he strutted away, his shoes clicked down the tiles. Hermione watched him wondering if he would be alright. Ron held her tight around the shoulders, his thumb trailed over the glitter on her collarbones. “Ready to go home?” Ready for this day to be over, she thought, and nodded in reply.