DRAGON'S HEARTSTRINGS || dramione | harry potter

Chapter Nineteen

They stepped out of the fireplace on the other end. A marvelous giant lobby opened before them, lit up by chandeliers, adorned by vintage furniture, with tables set with food and people dressed immaculately. There were waiters carrying trays with snacks and appetizers as well as flutes of wine and champagne. Hermione always imagined this is what pureblood parties looked like, and this one, at least at first glance, did not disappoint. She couldn't help but feel uneasiness creep up her spine.

"If you see someone you know, don't talk to them and don't acknowledge them," Malfoy hissed to her, perhaps remembering their last outing. Hermione nodded, although wondering who she could possibly meet here.

They went through the lobby in small confident strides, Malfoy leading the way and her following. A few people turned and went to them to say their hellos to the High Reeve, and Hermione recognized a few of them. Most of them were men with women by their sides, their escorts perhaps. A lot of those who came to talk to the High Reeve seemed like normal people, and Hermione wouldn't be able to differentiate them in a crowd if she had to disperse monsters from heroes. Although some had that mad fire in their eyes that made Hermione want to dig herself into the ground and never get up; those people reminded her of Crabbe and Goyle, when he was still alive, and she was sure those mad-looking people kill without second thought, and not because they must, but because they enjoy it. she witnessed a similar flame in Malfoy's eyes when she saw him kill, even if that was for a reason.

Still, Hermione kept her head down, staring at her legs, while Malfoy spoke little and with a deadpan manner, looking bored as ever and wishing to be anywhere else but here. None of the conversationalist stayed to chitchat for long, even the maddest of them visibly disturbed by the High Reeve's cruel demeanor. When she saw the last three pairs of designer shoes leave her field of vision, she asked quietly, "Where is Blaise?"

"Somewhere around. I need to talk to him, and then we can leave this hellhole since I already talk to enough people to testify that I attended."

"What—" she began to ask but she another group of people come their way, and was forced to shut her mouth.

It was Crabbe and Pucey, both of them visibly drunk.

"Hey, my friend..." Crabbe drawled, getting closer to them. "Sorry, I mean... High Reeve..."

Hermione let her head down, hoping they would leave her alone, but Pucey exclaimed, "Aye, you brought your Mudblood with you!"

From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Malfoy grit his teeth. "What is it?" he asked, annoyed.

"We just came to say hi," Crabbe said, hiccupping. "See, we also have some mudbloods with us..."

That seemed truth, since there were three young girls with them, all of them younger than Hermione. She recognized two of them from Hogwarts, they were muggle-borns, both of them only first years when Hermione was in her sixth year. She did the math and realized those girls weren't of legal age even in wizarding terms. She did not recognize the third girl but she could tell she was a muggle because the usual magic intrinsic ti the wizarding folk did not emanate from her. All three girls seemed frightened and scared, keeping their heads down and their shoulders slouched. Except unlike Hermione, they weren't faking their fear.

Malfoy opened his mouth to bite back, but Zabini appeared in front of them. He smiled widely but Hermione noticed the dark bluish circles under his eyes and the hard lines around his lips.

"Hey there," he said to no one in particular. Hermione gasped when she saw the young woman with him. She didn't look any different, maybe just a bit more exhausted, which you wouldn't be able to tell because the dark blue dress looked mesmerizing on her. Her blonde wavy hair were put in a fancy updo, her big eyes as kind and dreamy as ever.