"Hermione, who are you going to the ball with?" asked Ron, for the fifth time that day.
"I'm not telling you, stop asking me"
"Are you kidding, Weasley?" said Draco, materialazing behind them. He couldn't avoid hearing their conversation. Something clicked inside him when he heard that Hermione was going to the ball with someone, and that someone wasn't Potter or Weasley.
Who would she go with? And why she didn't tell her friends? He wanted to know more. He needed to know...
"Are you saying that someone invited the mudblood?"
Harry e Ron turned furiously to him, but Hermione kept ignoring him.
She looked past him and waved at someone behind his back.
"Good evening professor Moody" she smiled, without sparing him a glance.
Draco went pale and jumped backward. He turned: there was noone behind him. Moody was eating his soup at the professors' table.
"You're a nervous ferret, Malfoy" said Hermione, walking away, smiling and laughing with her two friends.
Salazar, he hated her. He hated her with all of himself. And most of all he hated the fact that she kept ignoring him. She wasn't the same anymore. Anything he did to provoke her didn't have any effect.
This wasn't good. He didn't want to be ignored. He wanted to see her screaming, to see her face red, to let her breathless. He wanted her heart to beat fast because of him.
All dressed up, with Pansy on his arm, Draco walked to the great hall.
He was burning with the desire to know who Hermione misterious date was. Who could have invited her if it wasn't Potter? That doubt tormented him for weeks.
He saw Potter and Weasley with the Patil twins, looking nervously around. He kept scanning the entry of the great all for her, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe she didn't come. Maybe it was all a lie. Noone invited her, and she made up that story. Maybe now she was crying alone in her room.
That thought made him more nervous. He wanted her to be there so that he could provoke her, insult her. Anything that could get him a reaction from her.
"The Champions here, please" screamed professor McGonagall voice.
If anything, he was happy that she wouldn't make the triumphant entry on Potter's arm with all the other champions. He was jealous of them.
But his dress, his hair, the way he holded Pansy against his chest: everything was because he wanted to be seen. He wanted her to see this. To see him.
He walked with Pansy on the side of the great hall, waiting for the ridicolous parade of the champions to begin.
The door opened. Fleur Delacour entered on the arm of an astonished Roger Davis. Pansy made a comment about her dress, but he couldn't care less.
Diggory followed with Cho Chang.
Potter closed the line with one of the Patil twin. He couldn't tell which one.
Between Potter and Diggory there was Krum, but Draco didn't even pay attention to him.
"But that is..." Pansy shocked voice turned on his curiosity. And then he realized...
The girl on Krum's arm was her. It was Hermione.
She was wearing a periwinkle dress. She moved differently. Her face was colored with a beautiful shade of pink. But it wasn't make-up. It wasn't the same artifical color he could see on Pansy's face. It was a small shade, a mixture between the natural color of her face and the red that appeared on her skin when she was angry.
She was excited. Happy. And her eyes were focused only on the guy next to her, shining with joy.
And the worst thing was that she didn't spare him a glance. She walked in front of them without even realizing he was there.
He stood there, frezeed. The words he would have wanted to spit on her couldn't reach his mouth.
She had done something to her hair. They were straight and lucid, tied up in a bun behind her head.
That was, despite all his efforts, the only defect he could find in her that night.
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