HOME | DD

Description
It's Sunday... and I'm still working on Wednesday's picture.

I'm going to let all you outsiders in on a little secret: Dramione fans LOVE the Yule Ball. Seriously. Because it's not too hard to imagine fun stuff happening. Say, for example:

Malfoy, upon seeing Hermione all dressed up and lovely, was at first at a loss for insults. (Noted in the books.) However, certainly not getting engaging conversation from his date, Pansy, he made it his personal project to find the perfect words to crush the spirit of the mudblood back to where they belonged. It didn't take too long, once he was able to get over the initial shock of a Granger without bushy hair and an arm full of books.
He ran over the taunts in his head as he shook off Pansy, (not an easy feat,) and began to look for Granger. He scanned the room, not seeing her. He looked again. And again. But she was gone. Cursing his bad luck, he reasoned that she was off with Krum. He sniffed in disgust, mentally noting to burn all of the Bulgarian team's merchandise that he had purchased.
He considered returning to the dance... briefly. But he'd had more than enough of Pansy for one night, and thought that he might enjoy himself more back in the common room. (Heck, he might enjoy himself more in the bloody whomping willow.)
He drifted through the dim halls toward the dungeon, when a splash of color caught his eye. He turned, and stepped backward in shock - it was Granger, seated on a bench to the side of the hallway. The insults that he had prepared came rushing to his lips, almost leaving... but fell flat as he saw the tears on her face.
Those tears, first, made him feel rather mad. Here he was, insults ready, and she was already crushed. Wasn't that his job?
Then he felt very foolish - he didn't like to think about the face of a person hurt - it took some of the fun out of hurting them. He didn't want to see Granger like this. It was better when she was upright and furious; that was the expression that he knew how to handle.
Then he felt incredibly hollow, knowing that he could never have hurt Granger this much, anyway, no matter how hard he tried. Whoever had done this to her meant something to her, was important to her. He was nothing. All these years, all the time he had spent tormenting her... and he meant less to her than than the dirt on the floor. An annoyance - nothing greater.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" He was shaken from his thoughts, looking at her with what he hoped was a somewhat collected expression. She had certainly collected herself in the moments that he'd hovered nearby, though her face was still red and her make-up running.
Malfoy scrambled for a response - what did he want? To insult her? To tear her down? "I - I'm sorry..." he said weakly.
Her reply was quick, if slightly watery. "I don't care." The hollowness within him seemed to grow.
There was a terrible, weighted hush between them. The sound of music and laughter and far happier people drifted to where they regarded each other.
Malfoy, later, could never decide what had possessed him to do it, but he held out his hand in invitation. Granger looked up at him, confused. However, hesitantly, she accepted, muttering something that could have been, "...show him fraternization with the enemy...."
They didn't dance long. It was awkward to dance with someone that you did not want to touch. They both left shortly afterward. The next day, it was not mentioned, and regular hostilities resumed, if anything more poignant between the two of them. They never talked of it again; but what was not spoken of was also not forgotten.

That was way longer than I had planned... heh. It was suppose to be a paragraph or so... and in present tense... oops. Oh, well.

Description
It's Sunday... and I'm still working on Wednesday's picture.

I'm going to let all you outsiders in on a little secret: Dramione fans LOVE the Yule Ball. Seriously. Because it's not too hard to imagine fun stuff happening. Say, for example:

Malfoy, upon seeing Hermione all dressed up and lovely, was at first at a loss for insults. (Noted in the books.) However, certainly not getting engaging conversation from his date, Pansy, he made it his personal project to find the perfect words to crush the spirit of the mudblood back to where they belonged. It didn't take too long, once he was able to get over the initial shock of a Granger without bushy hair and an arm full of books.
He ran over the taunts in his head as he shook off Pansy, (not an easy feat,) and began to look for Granger. He scanned the room, not seeing her. He looked again. And again. But she was gone. Cursing his bad luck, he reasoned that she was off with Krum. He sniffed in disgust, mentally noting to burn all of the Bulgarian team's merchandise that he had purchased.
He considered returning to the dance... briefly. But he'd had more than enough of Pansy for one night, and thought that he might enjoy himself more back in the common room. (Heck, he might enjoy himself more in the bloody whomping willow.)
He drifted through the dim halls toward the dungeon, when a splash of color caught his eye. He turned, and stepped backward in shock - it was Granger, seated on a bench to the side of the hallway. The insults that he had prepared came rushing to his lips, almost leaving... but fell flat as he saw the tears on her face.
Those tears, first, made him feel rather mad. Here he was, insults ready, and she was already crushed. Wasn't that his job?
Then he felt very foolish - he didn't like to think about the face of a person hurt - it took some of the fun out of hurting them. He didn't want to see Granger like this. It was better when she was upright and furious; that was the expression that he knew how to handle.
Then he felt incredibly hollow, knowing that he could never have hurt Granger this much, anyway, no matter how hard he tried. Whoever had done this to her meant something to her, was important to her. He was nothing. All these years, all the time he had spent tormenting her... and he meant less to her than than the dirt on the floor. An annoyance - nothing greater.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" He was shaken from his thoughts, looking at her with what he hoped was a somewhat collected expression. She had certainly collected herself in the moments that he'd hovered nearby, though her face was still red and her make-up running.
Malfoy scrambled for a response - what did he want? To insult her? To tear her down? "I - I'm sorry..." he said weakly.
Her reply was quick, if slightly watery. "I don't care." The hollowness within him seemed to grow.
There was a terrible, weighted hush between them. The sound of music and laughter and far happier people drifted to where they regarded each other.
Malfoy, later, could never decide what had possessed him to do it, but he held out his hand in invitation. Granger looked up at him, confused. However, hesitantly, she accepted, muttering something that could have been, "...show him fraternization with the enemy...."
They didn't dance long. It was awkward to dance with someone that you did not want to touch. They both left shortly afterward. The next day, it was not mentioned, and regular hostilities resumed, if anything more poignant between the two of them. They never talked of it again; but what was not spoken of was also not forgotten.

That was way longer than I had planned... heh. It was suppose to be a paragraph or so... and in present tense... oops. Oh, well.