Disclaimer: I own nothing. Because, really if I did, I wouldn't be here.

This is my first story in quite a while, and so far I'm very pleased with how it's going. My intention, currently, is to update weekly and I'll try to stick to that or let you know that I'm changing things up. Without further ado...enjoy.

Chapter 1

Devious

"Oh, wear the blue one, 'Mione!" Ginny pleaded. "I know just how we could do your hair with it, and you always wear the black dress…"

Hermione Granger looked at her friend with skepticism as the younger witch rolled off the bed. Ginny plucked the dress from the closet and held it up to Hermione's front. Hermione, patience wearing thin, rolled her eyes.

"Ginny, look at this neckline. You must be insane!" Hermione collected the dress and hung it back up.

"Exactly! It's not a formal ball, they whole idea is to relax a bit. Besides, you're a beautiful, intelligent, single witch. Wearing something a little less conservative wouldn't kill you and it might just fix that last bit," Ginny winked as she rifled through Hermione's shoes to find a matching pair. Hermione just threw up her hands.

"Formal or not, I can't wear this to a Ministry ball!" She plunked down on the bed and while the youngest Weasley cluttered the floor around her closet with shoes and handbags.

Really, Hermione knew she was fighting a losing battle the moment Ginny's eyes lighted on the dress in question. Hermione herself rather liked it, but lacked the gall to ever seriously entertain ideas of wearing it out. The plunging neckline was enough to make the usually boisterous Gryffindor run for cover…and a sweater. Add the fact that the gown somehow managed to cling to her every curve and, well, she'd known from the beginning she would keep it hidden in her closet forever. She heaved a sigh and let her body flop back into her soft mattress.

From her spot on the floor, Ginny rolled her eyes. "What's the worst that could happen, 'Mione? It's just a dress."

"Well, I could be ruin my reputation, be deemed inappropriate, become a social leper in the office, and be let go."

Ginny stood up and turned to her friend hands on her hips.

"Hermione Granger. You are going wear this dress, you are going to have a good time, and you are going to stop worrying about it!"

Ginny stalked over to the edge of the bed. "You have until the count of three to get up and start getting dressed, or so help me…" Hermione quirked an eyebrow at the tiny replica of Molly Weasley standing at the foot of her bed.

"One."

Hermione didn't move.

"Two"

She yawned for good measure.

"Three!"

Ginny launched onto the bed and began tickling her friend, and the resulting fight nearly landed them on the floor several times. Finally, Hermione caught Ginny's hands, declaring, "Enough! Ok, I'm up, I'm going!"

Both girls were still laughing and catching their breath as Hermione hauled herself up and over to her closet.

"You'll thank me later!" the redhead called as Hermione shut the door.

Two hours later, Hermione slipped into her heels and left her bedroom. Ginny had left after finishing with Hermione's hair, and after reminding her friend of what would happen if she showed up in anything other than the blue dress.

"As if I'd chance a Bat-Bogey Hex from you, Ginevra," Hermione sighed as Ginny waltzed out to get ready herself.

Hermione had lollygagged to the best of her ability, but all too soon she was ready and waiting by the floo. She double-checked her hair and makeup in the hall mirror, straightened her tiny living room, and considered making a cup of tea before she finally sighed, straightened her shoulders and grabbed a handful of floo powder. In her strongest voice, she said, "McLaggen Hall."

Draco had thought long and hard about going to the ball tonight.

On the one hand, he really needed to continue making appearances at these sorts of niceties if he was ever to been seen as equal in the public eye. On the other, he had absolutely no interest in making small talk with stuffy Ministry officials or being "seduced" by inelegant witches with nothing more than galleons on the brain. The fact that it was being held at the former Gryffindor's place only added to his displeasure. Cormac McLaggen was possibly the biggest dunderhead in the scarlet-and-golden lot. Spending an evening being pleasant to that host sounded like torture.

Yet, to miss the five-year anniversary of the downfall of the world's worst excuse for a human being would not look well on him or his family. His father was on house arrest and his mother was on her yearly trip to visit all the distant relatives, helping to keep the wheels of the Malfoy name well greased.

She would thankfully be in town for the rest of the festivities. His mother was a master of social graces and small talk, and Draco found that witches were much less likely to throw themselves at him when his mother was on his arm.

He could have easily found a witch willing to escort him that night, but he did not relish the conversation sure to follow with his mother. For more than a year now, she had been dropping hints and side comments about his lack of a serious girlfriend.

"Your father and I were married at your age!"

"Aren't I ever to see my grandchildren?"

All on top of a long weekend with her, it was simply too much. And so, his best option really was to go and hope he could slip away unnoticed before too late.

Sighing with resolve, Draco Malfoy donned his formal attire and signature smirk, and tossed a handful of powder into his fireplace.

Landing as gracefully as she could, Hermione was thankful that the floo point was not visible to the party. She dusted herself off with her wand as she was greeted by a man with a tray of glasses.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," the man bowed slightly and directed her to the main hall. She thanked him and took a drink, pleased that at least with how much press she received, she was easily recognized. She had never been to McLaggen Hall, but had never relished the feeling of being looked up on a list of attendees.

Hermione took a sip of the pink liquid in her glass just before she reached the end of the hall. With one last sigh she stepped into –

"'Mione?"

Hermione turned to see Fred Weasley walking up the hall behind her. He looked handsome in his suit, yet somehow, he looked less stiff than other well-dressed men. She smiled.

"Fred! Wonderful, we can walk in together!" As glad as she was to see a friendly face, she was more than calmed to have a gentleman to walk her in, instead of walking into the lion's den alone.

Fred grinned and kissed her cheek before holding his arm out in the most over-dignified pose he could manage. Hermione chuckled and looped her arm through his.

"My, my, it has been a while since I've seen you! And it's been quite a while since I've seen you in anything so dashing." Fred winked, already sensing Hermione's discomfort. She rolled her eyes.

"I'll have you know, it was your sister who forced me to into this ridiculous getup. I'll be lucky to make it through the night! Oh, Fred, I just want to hide!" Her voice petered out to a whine at the end. Fred only smiled, and moved for the door. "Hermione, I'd be no kind of brother at all if I let you hide back here all night. Just let me have the first dance before the vultures descend on you." His wink only encouraged the raging butterflies in her stomach.

Draco exited the fireplace with a kind of poise one only acquired through years of practice. He stated his name to a man with a list next to him and strolled toward the door. If he was going to make an appearance, he'd decided he would do it well.

Inside, the grand hall was lushly decorated and filled with people. In the middle of the room, witches and wizards twirled around a dance floor to a small orchestra situated at the back of the hall. He scanned the crowd as he strutted down the stairs, looking for all the world to be utterly comfortable and unimpressed.

He spotted a dark mess of hair in between two gingers near the open doors to the balcony, and so he set off, weaving through the crowd to engage in an old past time: antagonize the Golden Trio.

True to her word, Hermione let Fred lead her out onto the dance floor for her first dance almost as soon as they got into the room. She had initially wanted to keep busy until she knew Harry or Ron had arrived, but she quickly realized that Fred was lighter on his feet than she'd ever imagined. Only after five songs did the couple break for a drink.

Another mysterious glass of pink refreshment in hand, her third of the evening, Hermione tugged Fred toward the balcony in hopes of catching a breeze to cool off.

"Oi! Fred! You going to hog the girl all night?" George Weasley was suddenly at their side, a wide grin in place.

"George!" Hermione exclaimed, a little more enthusiastically than necessary. She threw her arms around him without hesitation. Both Fred and George laughed at her excitement.

"Whoa, little thing, how many of those have you had?" George asked when Hermione pulled away. She just swatted him playfully.

"I haven't had hardly any, this is only my third I'll have you know. I can't help that it's been ages since you came by the Burrow!"

Hermione's motherly tone made George laugh even more. "Alright, I'll give you that. But a bloke stays busy when he's getting engaged." Fred rolled his eyes while George winked. "That's hardly an excuse anymore. Everything's planned! You haven't even been around the shop this week." George pulled a face.

"Tell that to Angelina."

Hermione and Fred both laughed, but dropped the topic, just in case George called her over to rehash any wedding plans. Only Angelina could be as fierce when making a seating a chart as when she was chasing a Quaffle.

"Anyway," said George, "I'd better bring you over to the rest. Ginny'll kill me if I let you get away." He turned and beckoned Hermione and his twin to follow. He turned over his shoulder once before they reached Harry's side,

"You've gotta hand it to the little spaz, wouldn't you say Fred? She does a right decent job of dressing up our Hermione."

Fred only winked at Hermione's exasperated eye roll before he snuck away to scare his youngest brother.

"You look fantastic!" Harry proclaimed, pulling Hermione into a hug.

"You look awfully nice yourself, Mr. Potter. Looks like I'm not the only one Ginny dressed this evening." Hermione said, poking Harry's side lightly. Harry nodded and chuckled.

"It's much easier to let her have her way, sometimes, isn't it?"

"Excuse me! I'll have you know, you both look splendid and have me to thank for it!" cried a smug Ginny Weasley. She slipped an arm around Harry's waist and kissed his cheek. "Besides, imagine what they'd say if the Boy-Who-Lived showed up looking like he didn't own a mirror." At that, both girls laughed, having witnessed the dangers of letting Harry Potter dress himself.

"Oh, alright," Harry pretended to huff. All three turned as a yelp erupted another of the redheaded clan. A few feet away, Fred and finally surprised Ron, and the two were roughhousing as delicately as possible. Thankfully, the few people near them cleared out quickly. Harry turned back to Hermione, "Who did you come with, 'Mione?"

"No one, it's so much easier that way," the witch explained, "if I show up with someone, then I spend the whole night explaining to everyone how I'm not dating them, and the prophet still runs a picture of me dancing with Ron, and a piece on how there's trouble in paradise!" Harry knew Hermione wasn't exaggerating. Shortly after the Ministry had started holding different balls that he, Ron, and Hermione all felt obligated to attend, the situation she described actually arose.

Poor Lee Jordan, who had truly only come with Hermione as a friend, had endured several interviews afterward denying that his heart had been broken by "the Gryffindor vixen." It was all a mess too great for Hermione's reclusive nature.

However, Harry hated the thought of Hermione going home every night to a lonely apartment. He had hoped she would have brought a date, due to the lengthy celebrations they would endure this weekend. Harry wasn't sure how he would get through if not for Ginny to balance him out and poke fun at the more "traditionally" dressed Ministry members. Sorry as his fashion sense may be, even Harry could tell that frilly dress robes were well past their time.

As if she could see the wheels turning in her friend's head, Hermione smiled and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't go worrying about me, Harry. Put your hero complex to rest for the night, I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself." Harry smiled and nodded. "Besides, if I get bored, I'll just steal Ginny away."

She and Ginny laughed at Harry's stricken expression.

"Alright, no need for threats," Harry turned to his girlfriend, "I believe it's time I took you out on the dance floor." Ginny's grin stretched from ear to ear as Hermione watched the pair disappear into the crowd.

Hermione turned back to the group to see that Fred and Ron had calmed down. As she approached, she overheard Fred telling Ron about a new line of products he and George had just released.

"It's a bit like a love potion, except we've modified it to only really work on people who already like each other," Fred explained. Ron looked uneasy, having never forgotten his run-in with Romilda Vane's love potion spiked chocolates.

"Instead of fixing them so the victim falls in love with anyone in particular, once they eat it, they act a bit like a love sick teenager. It doesn't create an infatuation so much as it makes a person more affectionate," Fred smirked, "Cuddly, if you will." Hermione stepped up with doubt written clearly on her face, "You might be better off not referring to those using your products as victims, Fred."

Fred chortled while Ron nodded and turned to Hermione. The discomfort that had weighted his features suddenly lifted when he took stock of his friend.

"Blimey, Hermione!" Ron cried, his eyes going wide. Whatever chemistry the pair had felt in school had dissipated as they grew older, and now they were nothing more than friends. However, Ron was still male, and he was having a hard time looking away from his very well dressed friend.

Hermione was torn between laughing and being annoyed at the absolute bewilderment on Ron's face.

"Ronald, put your eyes back in your head for goodness sake. Has it really escaped your attention that I'm a girl, after all this time?" Hermione's tone was enough to make Ron regain his composure and smile sheepishly at his friend.

"Oh, you know what I mean. You look great, 'Mione," Ron responded. He pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. Hermione sighed good-naturedly and returned his hug. As he released her, she turned to Fred.

"Perhaps you could come up with something that encouraged thick headed men to say the right thing." She grinned at him as Ron huffed.

"Aw, where would the fun in that be? Plus, this way, I get a better shot at all the ladies my little brother sends running." Fred wound his arm around Hermione's waist again and the pair laughed as Ron threw up his hands and cried, "Blimey, enough already. What else is new in the shop?"

Fred started back in on their newest inventions, just as the most devious of Weasleys sauntered up behind them.

Just as Draco made his way into a clearing, he spotted Potter and the youngest Weasley heading on to the dance floor only a few feet away. Though they wouldn't exactly be considered bosom buddies, he and Potter worked together and it had set them into an easy friendship. As it turned out, they were both quick witted and convicted. It made working on the same squad of Aurors very easy. While Ron had taken a while to come around, he too had eventually come to an understanding with the young Malfoy.

Harry caught a glimpse of familiar blonde hair out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see Draco. He nodded and then whispered in Ginny's ear, who turned around and began leading them over to their friend.

"Evening, Potter," Draco said lazily. No matter how close the two were, he imagined first names would never feel quite right.

"Malfoy," Harry nodded, "had a good week off?" Due to lull in dark activity and the upcoming events, Harry and Draco's squad had been one of several given the week off.

"It's been quiet. Mother's been out making rounds to the relatives, which I will say has been a nice reprieve." The eyebrow Draco contemptuously raised in an unintentional display of emotion reminded Harry of the stories of Draco's grandchild-crazed mother. He smiled and nodded at Draco in understanding.

"I don't see your date anywhere, Draco," Ginny noted with a coy smile. Both Harry and Draco were instantly on the alarm – Draco wasn't the only one who brought stories of crazed women to work.

"Nice to see you, too, Weaslette," Draco drawled, trying to replace his bored mask. Ginny only waved off the long-standing nickname.

"Come now, you're already hiding? Is this one really that awful?" Ginny asked mildly, sipping her drink. Draco sighed and resigned himself to whatever game the girl was playing.

"I came alone. With my mother coming back so soon, I'm sure you can imagine the fiasco of finding a date only to tell her to disappear after one night. Simply easier than battling you witches and your overwhelming attraction to me," He studied his nails, seemingly unaffected by admitting he was dateless.

Ginny only barely kept from clapping her hands in excitement! However, used to playing these games with Malfoy, she did her best to keep her face blank and uninterested. It almost worked, but Draco saw the telltale flash of triumph in her eyes.

The look was not missed on Harry either, who decided to intervene on his friend's behalf.

"Oh, look, Gin, they're just starting up another song! Malfoy," Harry nodded quickly and started towing away his girlfriend.

"Harry Potter! You wouldn't think of leaving Draco here alone while we went to dance! Here, Draco, come with me – I'm sure Ron or George are still around here somewhere." Too late did Harry realize what Ginny was up to. He let his head drop for a moment, defeated, before patting Draco on the shoulder and motioning for him to follow.

Draco knew his options were limited at best and so he followed his friend, the boy wonder, and the fiery redhead that they both knew better than to cross.

AN: Well friends, there you have it! I would absolutely love some feedback, so leave a review! Hope to see you next week.