A Wonderful Fortuitous Love

54. Over or Just Starting?

“The saddest kind of sad is the sad that tries not to be sad. You know, when Sad tries to bite its lip and not cry and smile and go, “No, I’m happy for you?” That’s when it’s really sad.” 

- John Mayer

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“There you are!”

Having only entered the ball not all of three seconds ago, Draco had to stifle down a womanly shriek when a hand suddenly came down on his arm. He spun around to see his mother, looking anything but amused.  

“I told you they’d be around,” Lucius said to her. He caught Draco’s eye from over Narcissa’s shoulder and gave them a look that plainly said he, too, wasn’t happy with their tardiness.

“Where have you been?” she asked them, but when neither Hermione nor Draco could come up with an excuse, she gave an impatient wave. “Oh, never mind. We’ve got more important things to worry about. Natalie said a few minutes ago that she’d love to see you start the next dances.”

It took Draco a second to absorb this, his brain still in ‘freedom’ mode, and he had to remind himself that he couldn’t do what he wanted anymore – those few hours were finished, and now was the time to do what was required of him. The fun was over. He gave an obedient nod. “Right. Where’s Ophelia?”

“Ophelia? No, darling,” Narcissa shook her head and pulled Granger, who had begun moving backwards from the conversation, back in, “she means you and Hermione should start the dances.”

“What, why?”

She shrugged indifferently. “I don’t know. Does it really matter? The point is you’ve got to –” She broke off and sniffed at the air, her brow creased. “Why do I smell sea water?”

From the corner of his eye he saw Granger turn her face away; either to hide her guilt or a smile, he wasn’t sure. “I don’t smell anything,” he said, pretending to also sniff.

“Hm. Strange.” She looked at her son closely for a moment, then started pushing him and Granger towards the dance floor. “Now, go.”

Ophelia was at the edge of the crowd, waiting for the dances to begin. When she saw Draco and Hermione, she smiled and joined them.

“About time. Everyone’s waiting.”

“We can’t dance,” Draco said instantly, speaking the thought that had been repeating over and over for some time.

Hermione snorted, and Ophelia looked at her, startled by the unladylike sound. “Speak for yourself.”

Draco glared at her. “You’re not that brilliant, you know.”

“Better than you,” she shot back childishly.

“I suppose I should apologise,” Ophelia said cautiously, interrupting their argument. “It was my idea to have you dance, like a farewell thing to the year.”

“Oh,” they said together. Granger brightened first and took Draco’s arm. “Then it’ll be our pleasure.” And before Draco could further protest, she led him to the dance floor.

“I’ll be watching!” Ophelia called after them.

“Granger,” Draco murmured as he tried remembering where he was supposed to put his hands. “We really can’t do this, and yes, I know, you don’t suck at dancing, but ‘c’mon. We really lack the elegance.”

Granger’s face was quickly turning red at all the eyes suddenly upon them, but other than that she hid her nerves well, her hands not shaking and her voice calm, and later he would think that maybe this was more for his benefit. “Just pretend we’re back home and I’m Blaise.”