The hard backbeat of muggle rap reverberated through the walls as Hermione walked toward the potions mixing room. Why bother going to the ball? Ginny and Harry would try to make her feel included - which would make her inevitably feel like a third wheel. She'd distract Anthony from his date. Her singleness would attract whispers and stares. And worst, she'd probably see Malfoy with some inbred, waifish pureblood with perfect hair and teeth.

It would be odd, being in the potions lab without Malfoy. For the past week, he'd been a near-constant fixture - and not unpleasantly so. The conversation came easily now; once or twice, she'd even elicited a burst of laughter from him.

She mused on the small details he'd shared with her - that he wanted to become a potions master (though his father discouraged such pedestrian pursuits); that his mother was trying to contract his marriage through a matchmaker (fearing he'd choose someone unsuitable on his own); that he acutely missed his best friend Vincent (despite, admittedly, treating Vincent poorly while he was alive).

A pang arced through her heart at the thought of Malfoy at the dance with another girl. It was undeniable now; she liked him. Really liked him.

She pushed open the door to the potions lab -

- and was met with the sight of Malfoy, leaning over a bubbling cauldron. He wasn't dressed for a ball. His white shirt-sleeves had been rolled to the elbows; he wore a pair of rumpled black pants; his robe had been casually draped over a nearby chair.

He looked elegant and beautiful like this, relaxed and focused on his work.

"Malfoy?"

He turned around, leaned against the potions bench, and smiled.

"Granger? I didn't expect to see you here."

"You didn't expect me? Aren't you supposed to be at the dance with Pansy?"

He snorted. "Pansy, if you hadn't noticed, is not my favourite person at the moment." He paused. "I'm surprised to see you skipping out. Goldstein would've dropped Padma Patil in an instant if you'd asked him."

Hermione frowned at him.

"I know, i know, Granger, you're too nice to leave Padma out on a limb like that." He stirred his potion. "But still, you'd have had lots of options. You could've picked pretty much any brawny moron."

His voice held a trace of bitterness. She didn't answer him, just watched as he methodically stirred his potion. A little niggling voice inside her whispered - you like the fact that he's here; you like that he isn't there with some other girl; you like monopolizing him yourself.

"So why didn't you go, Malfoy?"

He stared at her and cocked his head. "The girl I wanted to go with didn't want to go with me."

"Really? Who turned you down?"

He kept staring. His eyebrow lifted incredulously. "Is that a joke, Granger?"

She looked back at him with confusion.

"I asked you to that ball at least six times and you turned me down flat every single time." He didn't try to hide the bitterness now. "You even agreed when I said you wouldn't be caught dead with me."

"It was a joke... you laughed... you said it was charity..." Hermione's words and thoughts were a tumbled mess.

"Like you would have seriously considered going with me," Malfoy snapped.

"Of course I didn't consider it! You don't even like me, Malfoy!"

He slammed his hand down on the counter and turned to her with blazing eyes.

"I don't like you? Then why the hell have I spent the past two months constantly in the potions lab? Why the hell have I spent full days in the library, sitting at the table next to yours? Why do I keep talking to you in class, even though it's cost me nearly all of my friends?" His voice went up a notch. "I like you plenty, Granger, and that's my biggest problem. In fact, I think I like you better than any other woman I've met."

"But... I'm a mudblood. You watched as your Aunt tortured me..." she replied weakly.

"I never said it was smart of me to like you. In fact, it's probably the dumbest thing I've ever done." He sounded disgusted with himself. "It's not as if I intended it, Granger, so you can stop making me feel like a moron now."

Malfoy likes me. He likes me better than any other woman he's ever met. He wanted me to go to the ball with him.

Malfoy looked exhausted and sad. He rubbed his hands over his face.

Her heart hammered in her chest, and she knew she should mutter polite excuses and leave. That would be the smart thing to do.

Instead, she stepped closer and reached for his wrists, just as he had once done to her; pulled his hands from his face.

"It's all right, Malfoy." She hesitated, "Draco."

The sound of his first name startled him. His silver eyes locked with hers.

"What if I had said yes?" she asked softly. "Think about how your friends would react. Your family."

Still he didn't look away. "I never had to decide because even though I hoped, I knew you'd never say yes..."

He licked his lips; Hermione realized that she was still gripping his wrists tightly; that they stood barely an inch from each other, close enough that she could feel his body heat, his hot breath on her forehead. He smelled like pine and woodsmoke. His eyes were dark with what she suddenly recognized as want.

"Hermione." His voice came out a whisper. "You're so beautiful..."

He leaned forward. She realized he was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to. The feeling she had previously characterized as anger, she now realized, was pent up lust.

And then his mouth was on hers. Thin, warm lips pressed hard and insistent against her own. His lips parted, and hers mimicked his. His tongue snaked around hers. He tasted sweet, a combination of the treacle tarts at dinner and a herbal, anise taste that was his own. An arm clamped around her waist, pulling her body tight and needy against his. A pleasured groan escaped his throat and reverberated in her mouth.

Bang!

The door to the potions lab burst open. Cacophony ensued.

"What the hell is going on here?" Ron bellowed.

"Draco, no!" Pansy wailed. "Oh, God, he's kissing her!"

Draco broke away from her mouth, but kept his arm tightly wound around her waist. Ron, dressed in blue velvet dress robes, and Pansy, in a frilly pink gown, stood in the doorway, gaping with undisguised horror.

"What are you doing here, Ron?" Hermione asked softly, still shell-shocked by her sudden, delicious entanglement with Draco.

"I came to escort you to the Valentine's Ball," Ron said through gritted teeth, "since my sister let me know that Malfoy was putting the moves on my woman. And I see she was right!"

Pansy let out a tear-thickened hiccup. "What are you doing, Draco? What are you doing with that mudblood?"

Hermione saw Draco's lip curl with distaste at the foul word; Hermione fought the urge to squeeze him tighter.

Malfoy's eyes flickered between Pansy and Ron, and she caught the uncertainty in his silver eyes. On some level she expected him to go back to "arsehole Malfoy" now that they were no longer alone.

Draco was silent for a moment; then he looked into her eyes, his expression serious.

"Hermione, do you want to go with me to the Valentine's Ball?" he finally asked.

There was no mockery in his voice, no sarcasm. Hermione examined his face for any hint of deception, but saw only the nervousness of a boy asking a girl for a date.

She smiled. "Yes, Draco. I would."

They left hand-in-hand, leaving Ron and Pansy speechless and alone in the potions mixing room.

An Epilogue

Twelve Months Later...

The bride stood at the front of the reception hall, telling a group of guests about how she had met her husband.

"There we were, all alone in the potions lab, dumped in the most spectacularly awful way - I mean, everyone knows how Granger and Draco behaved at that Valentine's Ball," Pansy exclaimed. "But Draco had forgotten a Loquacious Liqueur brewing on his workstation. It exploded all over me and Ronniekins. We spent twelve hours talking about everything imaginable..."

She sighed wistfully and shot Ron a saccharine-sweet gaze. Ron blew her a kiss from the other side of the room.

"I think I'm going to vomit," Hermione muttered.

"Now, be nice," Draco whispered in her ear. "You should be happy for them."

"No, really, Draco, I think I'm going to vomit," she said.

"Oh. Sorry." He passed her a Stomach-settling Draught. "That's the last one. We'd better go home."

Hermione shivered at the thought of portkeying or apparating back to London in her current nauseous state.

Draco hesitated. "I wish we could go to the manor. It's just a few blocks away."

"Your father would love that. 'Hello, Dad, I'm just hoping to stay over with my knocked up girlfriend. Remember Hermione? When you met her, you called her a gold-digging mudblood whore?' Great idea."

"Well...we're married now." He paused. "And he'll be a grandfather."

"That's really not going to change his mind." Her frown deepened as she caught the disdainful glare of an elder Parkinson. "There are just some people who are never going to accept me."

"Accept us," Draco corrected gently. "Let's just say good-bye to our friends and apparate..."

Draco's voice died away, as did his smile. The vast hall had gone icy-silent. All eyes, including Draco's, were locked on the door.

Hermione immediately saw why. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stood in the open doorway. Their impeccably tailored black robes reminded Hermione of Death Eaters. Their icy expressions betrayed no emotion.

Pansy quickly recovered her composure and dragged Ron to the door to exchange stiff smiles and polite words. Draco's hand slid to his wand pocket.

"Do you want to speak to them?" Hermione whispered.

"Yes," Draco replied quietly, "but I won't. They disowned me."

His eyes remained on his parents as they stonily made their way through the room, nodding toward the young Slytherins they recognized. It took a moment before Hermione realized that they were approaching her and Draco.

"Son, I..." Lucius began, but stopped when his eyes caught Hermione's midsection. He stared for a moment before hissing, "Is she with child?"

"Obviously, Lucius," Narcissa whispered.

Hermione felt distinctly uncomfortable. Narcissa's lip wobbled.

"How have you managed to even survive the past ten months, Draco?" Lucius demanded. "You've taken no money from the vault, no gold, no stocks. I waited, yet you never returned for money."

"I work, Father. Hermione has a job. We're fine."

He and his father stared each other down like two tomcats sparring. Hermione spotted at least a half dozen friends, hands on their wands, ready to step in if the elder Malfoy got out of hand.

"Can you not even feign civility for appearances' sake?" Lucius asked quietly.

Draco's lips twisted into a hint of a smile. "No."

"I came hoping that you would see reason." Lucius's voice came out clipped and controlled. "But your behaviour is repugnant - openly revelling with your impregnated mudblood mistress. Let us leave, Narcissa, before we are embarrassed further."

Narcissa did not move. Her eyes lingered on Hermione's hand. Hermione realized that Narcissa had spotted the slender gold band on her finger. Her damp eyes flickered to her son.

"You've married her."

"Yes."

"You don't deny it?" Lucius interrupted.

"No."

Lucius looked ill; Hermione had never seen him so obviously unsettled. "Come, Narcissa, we have been humiliated enough... we are becoming a spectacle."

"No!" Narcissa yanked her arm away from her husband's grip. "Draco, I don't agree with this. You know my feelings about... their culture. But you obviously intend this to be permanent."

"Narcissa..." Lucius hissed, "he will tire of her, and we can contract him to someone suitable..."

She shot him a contemptuous look; Lucius fell silent.

"It will take me some time, but I can accept your choice." She looked down at the floor. "I have to accept it. I miss you. I want to know my grandchild."

"I will not accept this!" Lucius hissed.

"And you don't have to," she replied, "but you don't speak for both of us. People change. I suppose I will have to as well."

She looked exhausted, and if she'd been someone else, Hermione would have handed her a cup of tea and patted her hand reassuringly.

Maybe someday.

"I will be there for the birth of my first grandchild." She said softly. "And, Draco, your father may have warded you out of the Manor, but I think you'll find that he never barred you from the guest house."

Narcissa's eyes met her husband's, as if daring him to contradict her; he did not.

"I'll see you later, Draco. Perhaps even tomorrow morning." She nodded toward Hermione. "And I will see you as well, Madam Malfoy."

And then they left quickly and uncomfortably, their eyes on the floor. The awkward stares from the wedding guests subsided, slowly giving way to dancing, drinking, and eating.

"You know, I think that potion worked," Hermione said, "I'm feeling better."

"Me too." Draco smiled. "Let's dance. It's Valentine's, after all."

With that, he led her quietly onto the dance floor amongst their friends, where no-one paid them any attention whatsoever.

AN: So that's all there is, folks. As with all my stories, I tweaked this to death, and that's why it took forever to finish. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!