From the direction of the Forbidden Forest ca the occasional cry of animals. If one listened closely, the rustle of swaying trees and the soft sounds of creatures passing through could also be heard.
A cold wind swept in from the distant hills, gliding across the surface of the sleeping lake before reaching the top of the tower.
Yet even such a biting chill could not cool the heat in her heart, nor could it scatter the anticipation hidden in the girl’s eyes…
Under the moonlight.
Hermione stood there, having made a slightly imperfect invitation to dance. That awkward yet courageous appearance held Draco’s gaze for a long mont.
It was only then that Draco noticed the evening gown Hermione had changed into at so point.
‘This… is an evening gown?’
He had expected Hermione to choose blue, symbolizing wisdom and hope, or perhaps pure white, representing innocence and the pursuit of truth. What he hadn’t expected was that she would ultimately choose a fiery red gown, a color that embodied courage and passion.
Perhaps that alone explained why Hermione had been sorted into Gryffindor.
It even explained why she had dared to drag Draco up to the Astronomy Tower in the dead of night.
This wasn’t sothing an ordinary girl could do…
“But… when did you change?”
Draco paused, then caught sight of sothing out of the corner of his eye. At so point, a Gryffindor robe had appeared near the wall of the tower. It seed Hermione had simply thrown a robe over herself before coming to find him.
So it really had all been planned ahead of ti…
Still waiting for a response from Draco, Hermione shut her eyes tightly, her face turning pale. As though so thought had crossed her mind, she lowered her head in disappointnt, hiding her expression completely.
It was a misunderstanding.
For Draco, that brief mont of distraction might not have ant much.
But for the girl standing here now, sensitive to every small reaction as she waited, it was all too easy to start overthinking.
Was he hesitating?
Or was he troubled?
As those thoughts surfaced, Hermione, who had finally gathered her courage only to receive no answer, felt the warmth in her heart slowly sink. The cold wind she hadn’t noticed before now seed to seep in, or perhaps she was only feeling it belatedly…
She took a deep breath.
The proud Gryffindor witch lowered the hand that had been clutching her skirt and straightened her back with effort. Her pale face struggled to form a smile.
She was hurting, but a proud girl like her had no intention of showing that unsightly side to soone else…
“…I guess so. In weather this cold, only an idiot would think about dancing in a place like this…”
Draco watched Hermione as she tried her best to pretend nothing was wrong in front of him.
Only then did he suddenly realize sothing. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and at the sa ti, seeing her reddened eyes and the grievance she couldn’t quite hide, a strange and unfamiliar emotion surfaced in his chest.
It was sothing Draco wasn’t used to at all…
Seeing Hermione look as though she might turn and flee at any second, Draco finally shook his head hard, pushing that odd feeling aside.
“I’m just saying, that’s not how you smile…”
“What?”
“Whose smile is just lifting the corners of their mouth?”
As he spoke, Draco stepped closer and lightly pressed his fingers at the corners of Hermione’s eyes, tugging them upward in an annoyingly deliberate way.
The result was an expression that looked more than a little ridiculous.
Hermione froze at his sudden action. Whether it was the pressure or the tears that had already been welling up, the ones she’d been forcing back spilled out all at once.
Feeling even more wronged, Hermione bit her lip, let out a muffled sob, and grabbed Draco by the collar.
“Draco… you bastard!!”
That did it. Draco had genuinely pushed her over the edge.
Seeing her sorrow instantly turn into anger, Draco finally raised both hands and let out a sigh.
“Hey. Haven’t you misunderstood sothing?”
“……”
“Think about it. When have I ever refused you?”
“……”
“Other than this dancing thing, when has there ever been sothing you asked that I didn’t agree to?”
Staring into Draco’s gray eyes at such close range, eyes that didn’t seem to be teasing her at all, Hermione blinked.
For a mont, she didn’t know how to respond.
Her lips parted slightly, tears still clinging to her lashes, giving her a dazed, almost foolish look.
She slowly loosened her grip on Draco’s collar and tilted her head in silence.
So… that wasn’t a rejection?
…
Watching Hermione’s back as she turned away, Draco felt a wave of helplessness.
After that misunderstanding, the little courage she’d managed to gather seed to have vanished entirely. She wouldn’t even look his way now.
If not for the faint hope still lingering in her heart, she might have already grabbed the Gryffindor robe lying by the wall and fled from this place.
As Hermione stood there, tangled in her thoughts, Draco slowly drew his wand behind her.
“If we’re going to dance, this place is still missing sothing.”
Hearing that, Hermione cautiously turned her head to look at him.
It had to be said, her careful, tentative expression was undeniably cute.
“First… music.”
Draco gave his wand a light flick.
The items piled nearby, originally ant for astronomy class, began to twist and shift under the influence of his Transfiguration. One by one, they transford into instrunts you’d expect to see at a formal banquet.
Floating violins and bows, cellos standing upright in midair as if awaiting orders, and a conductor’s baton poised above them.
It was a miniature orchestra.
In the next instant, Hermione’s eyes widened slightly. As the baton moved, the instrunts began to play on their own.
What surprised her even more was that the music sounded genuinely refined.
Draco’s mastery of Transfiguration, sothing he’d never shown before, made Hermione forget her earlier embarrassnt entirely…
Noticing the excitent on her face, Draco let out a soft laugh.
“Next… my attire.”
Magic couldn’t create sothing from nothing, so Draco naturally couldn’t just conjure a brand-new formal outfit. Under Hermione’s gaze, he twirled his wand and pointed it at himself.
The Slytherin robe he wore imdiately began to change.
The spell he used was just as advanced.
A dignified black suit accented with pale gold took shape, and combined with Draco’s natural presence, it perfectly highlighted what he embodied.
Maturity.
And dominance.
Step. Step. Step.
Seeing Draco walk straight toward her, Hermione snapped out of it in a panic. Her already unsteady gaze turned completely flustered.
Especially at the mont Draco extended his hand, Hermione felt as though her heartbeat was loud enough for all of Hogwarts to hear.
“Hermione, would you care to dance with ?”
Under the moonlight.
Draco’s smile left Hermione utterly srized…
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