Hogwarts Ball - Concert and Dancing

[fi_admin]

Date: Saturday, 03 March, 2001
Time: 7:00pm
Location: Hogwarts
Rating: PG
Characters Involved: Anyone who wishes to attend

Comments

Re: 19:30-ish

[thelastgranger]

Hermione herself wasn't the sort to jump up and down to the music, much preferring his way to many of the others she'd observed. They danced comfortably, in step with one another and that, really, was the point.

Something about him had seemed a little off and Hermione hoped it wasn't something she'd done. Keeping his hand in hers she quickly glanced around the room, finding there wouldn't be anywhere that would work to talk, let alone answer an awkward questions. "Come, we'll go for a walk."

The grounds looked huge at night, each shadow full of mystery and terror. Hermione was reluctant to drop his hand, so didn't, because would there ever be a better reason? Than a moonlight walk around the lake. "Ask away." Hermione said as she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She felt comfortable with him, with his soft voice and spine tingling accent. If he had questions, Hermione would do her best to answer them and expect the same in return.

"I've not done something wrong have I?" Hermione worried he might say something like 'You don't think this is a date do you?' And it would turn out she'd got this all so very wrong... Merlin it could be anything. Okay, time to just pay attention, stop thinking about what it might be and find out what it IS.

Re: 19:30-ish

[smallbruises]

Even if Hermoine would have attempted to surrender his hand, he would not have let her. His hand, calloused as it was, encased her's, holding it strongly between his fingers. No protest came from his lips as she led the both of them from the ball. There was something comforting in the thought of privacy. The dancing was just as well, but here, on the lake, he would have her all to himself.

His resolution to keep hold of her hand waivered for a brief moment. And in that moment he let it go. The release of her hand was followed by the shrugging off of his suit jacket. "Of course not, ma petite chère." He said softly, covering her bare shoulders with the soft silky inside of his jacket.

"I am confused about the nature of this... holiday." Conall continued, reclaiming her hand. "Voldemort was defeated twenty years ago, n'est-ce pas? I was just a school boy then. Why is it celebrated so now?"

Re: 19:30-ish

[thelastgranger]

It was more than a relief to hear that her paranoia was unfounded and Hermione laughed softly as she slid her arms into the oversized sleeves of his jacket. "Thank you."

At his words Hermione stopped walking, hand limp against his. He had to be joking, but who would joke about such a thing? Although maybe... It made sense... He'd been away from the wizarding world a long time and he... He hadn't known who she was... Not that everyone did, but most at least knew her name... But, he had to have been told before this... He...

He didn't know.

"No, he wasn't." Hermione tried to swallow the lump in her throat with no success. This wasn't a story she'd ever wanted to tell, but if he didn't know... Well he had to be told. Giving his hand a squeeze, her eyes were locked on the lake as they started to walk again. "Come, I'll tell you about it. It's not something I like to talk about... But here we go." Hermione wasn't sure how to tell this story from an impersonal level and there was a part of her that wanted him to know about, about why she was the way she was. "I'm sure you know about how everyone thought Voldemort originally died, trying to kill Harry Potter? Well in my first year of school I met The Boy Who lived... We became friends and due to natural inquisitive nature, we stumbled on a plan to bring Voldemort back to life..." Hermione remembered that year so vividly, making their way through the tasks and having to leave Harry alone when he went forward...

"Harry faced Voldemort again, stopped him coming back to power. Then again in our second year, believe it or not. By the time we got to our sixth year, Voldemort had regained his magic and Dumbledore had been killed." Hermione gave a shiver, but tried to keep her lips moving. "Harry, Ron and myself had created... A bond, friendship unlike any of us had ever had before and when Harry said he wasn't coming back for our last year, we stayed with him..." It struck her she'd never spoken this story out loud. It was a topic best avoided for everyone, but he'd asked...

"I won't go into what we did that year, but we knew where we were heading... People were dying faster than we could keep track of, muggles and wizards alike." Her eyes watered as they looked into the cool surface of the lake, remembering her time here, the fight here. "My parents were murdered in an attempt to draw us out, but we had to keep going... It was right here." She glanced up at him when they reached the edge of the lake. "The final battle was right here, a year ago." Tilting her head back the scar at her throat shone silver in the light and she ran her fingers over the skin.

"Harry killed Voldemort and it was over." Hermione dropped his hand to cross her arms over her chest, scanning the lake for any signs of the giant squid. "We helped rebuild the school, did our best to put our lives back together and now... We celebrate." It seemed surreal, like none of that could possibly have happened, that she was talking about someone else's life, not her own.

"Everyone is here tonight to raise money for those orphaned by war, so they can attend Hogwarts with the books and robes they need."

Re: 19:30-ish

[smallbruises]

Her tale seemed completely unbelievable-- too far-fetched to be true. What was it people said? The crazier the story, the more likely it is to be true.

For a long time after Hermione's story, Conall remained silent. His eyes, that had stayed focused on her while she spoke, were now focused on the rippled surface of the dark water. He had never doubted his English until that moment. Her words were turned over in his head, over and over. Though he knew what they meant, he still searched as though he might have been wrong. As though killed didn't really mean tuèrent.

Such a tale was hard to believe. For Hermione, he tried.

"Je suis très désole, ma chère." Conall said softly. It was quite like that by then Hermione had already figured that he had turned into a statue under the moonlight, or wasn't listening at all. In the absence of her hand, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder-- an attempt at comfort.

"I had no idea."

Re: 19:30-ish

[thelastgranger]

Hermione leant into him, her arm resting easily around his waist as they stood together and watched the water. She wouldn't have blamed him if he'd called her mad, sometimes she wished it was all just an invention of a diseased mind.

"That's one of the reasons I guess I... Well I like you so much." Turning her head she was able to rest her cheek against his chest. "Everyone always wants to know the 'real story' they ask questions and pry..." Hermione sighed, letting her eyes close and inhaling the soft scent of musk and vanilla and sun kissed leather. Her name had been in the paper too many times to count, it was hard to keep up with the latest rumours.

"My name's been splashed across gossip magazines, they printed an article about my 'love affair' with all three men I was living with." Hermione rolled her eyes as she looked up at him. "All lies, I promise." A ghost of a smile settled in place.

"It's been a year, sometimes it feels like forever, yet some days you wake up ready to fight in a war that's long over... I have more than my share of ghosts in my closet, I would understand if you would prefer to end our night here."

Re: 19:30-ish

[smallbruises]

"You are a foolish girl, mademoiselle Granger." Conall mentioned, his voice so soft it could have been a whisper. His accent was strong then, in the gentle of his voice. It hung on consonants and forgot vowels. He sounded like a man who had just left France and not one who hadn't seen his countryside in nearly a decade.

Hermione was a foolish girl and his arm remained. His eyes stayed on the water of the lake and the only movement around them. Just faintly over the breeze and the hills they could still hear the music of the ball. Conall didn't pay it attention. His world remained in the bright moon and the breeze that tugged at his shirt. Hermione's words.

"I remember what it was like the first time. It was my second year at Beauxbaton when he was killed. Even children know when something is wrong." Conall said finally. His eyes, blue and strangely clear in the moonlight, found hers then. "Fighting for a right to survive is not a reason for someone to be running away from you."

His hand, the one that had been residing in his pocket, rose. Gently his fingers traced over her cheek and brushed away her hair. They left trails of warmth despite the cold air that surrounded them.

"We all have ghosts, ma chère. Not even I am so fortunate to be rid of them."

Re: 19:30-ish

[thelastgranger]

Hermione sighed, mostly from relief as his arm remained around her. "I know, but now I know I've given you an 'out' I'm sure that you do want to be here..." If she'd stayed quiet, Hermione knew she'd have worried that he'd wanted to leave but felt obligated.

Moving closer to the warmth of him, her eyes fell closed as his fingers moved across her cheek, sending little jolts through her skin and down her spine. Hermione was far from easy or uncomplicated, but just the action of her hair brushed from her face was so reassuring.

Her eyes refused to stay closed a moment longer, looking up at him as her hand reached to gently trace the line of his jaw, thumb gently tracing the outline of his lower lip. "One day I hope you'll tell me about yours." Hermione wouldn't push him for information he didn't want to give, but that didn't mean she wasn't eager to learn more.

"Our ghosts help make us who we are, without past happenings, who knows who we'd be without them." The night had been so lovely, dancing with people she was truly fond of, catching up with old friends. Right at this moment, Hermione could appreciate where she was and who she was with. "Or where we'd be and with who..."

Re: 19:30-ish

[smallbruises]

"Perhaps someday." With a soft sigh, his chest falling with the exhale of his breath, his eyes sought refuge in the sight of the lake. He could still recall nearly every place he'd gone and for those he'd forgotten he'd kept pictures, tucked away in the history book of a journal he'd kept through his travels. Even the ghosts he'd rather forget were tucked safely into it before he tried to forget them all.

The sky - the black, star-filled sky over the open ocean - he would never forget.

"I was a bit of a wild man before my ghosts." His attention wained from his own mind to her once again. "They have settled me." Or was that his age? He could hardly tell anymore. Whatever the cause it had lead him here. He too was thankful, in some part for them.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Those fingers that had been tracing designs across her cheek and followed the lines of her jaw had grown cold outside of the protection of his suit, but he barely noticed. They found a shelter at the nape of her neck, teasing her hair as just the very tips of his fingers nestled amongst it, as his palm cradled her jaw.

"Mademoi..." He interrupted himself with a pause, one which he would allow to hang between them for a moment. "Hermione," he corrected himself before continuing, "May I kiss you?"

Re: 19:30-ish

[thelastgranger]

Hermione couldn't even pretend to know what she might have been like had the world been different. If her parents hadn't been killed, if she'd never had to raise her wand to another person. Or if Remus had never given her the opportunity to be here, made her pull herself and her life together.

"So you're not anymore? That's a shame..." Her smile was rather mischievous as she looked him slowly up and down. "Here I was, all misinformed about your wildness. Too late to trade you in?" Hermione winked as she pressed closer to him.

Her stomach gave a colossal lurch as that hand held her jaw in his work hardened hand. She shivered, even if it was rather warm in the confines of his jacket. What sort of man asked permission when it was so obvious she wouldn't push him away? This man. Momentarily she thought about Ron, but pushed it away, she couldn't keep living for other people, she just couldn't.

"I'd like that." Hermione's voice was hardly a whisper as she ran her hand down his neck and chest to rest over his heart. Turning her body towards him she was able to step even closer, face to face apart from the height difference. She licked her lips, suddenly rather nervous. Yes, alright she'd kissed people before, but that didn't mean she wasn't complete rubbish at it... What if she messed all this up?

Looking into his eyes she promptly forgot all her worries.

Re: 19:30-ish

[smallbruises]

The very corners of his mouth were tugged at, curling upwards just slightly as the soft answer from Hermione caressed his ears. His skin wrinkled there, and under his eyes. They were the slight wrinkles that told the tale of his age and were lost under the weight of a full smile. He remained still even after the permission of her words had long faded. It wasn’t that he was scared, or even that he was rethinking his question, but he was watching her. He was watching the way her brows furrowed ever-so-slightly under her nervousness. He was watching the way her tongue glided quickly over the rosy swell of her lower lip, leaving the skin to glisten under the cold, robbing light of the moon. In the wake of the soft, pink organ, his thumb stretched across her jaw, the hardened pad of his finger tracing the slow curve of that lip. His thumb lingered there, gliding along the path left before him, memorizing the muted softness of her skin beneath the callous.

Conall’s chest rose slowly with a deep inhale. The warm jasmine scent of her skin invaded his lungs and made a hazy mess of his mind. It was then that his hand disappeared from her jaw, her lips, and curled under her jaw. The outside of his first finger tilted her jaw upwards. His lips met hers in a gentle brush of skin-- a ghost of a kiss. He was not so cruel to end the kiss at such a touch, his lips pressing against hers, memorizing the softness of her skin. He was not so reserved to leave the kiss so chaste. His lips parted, taking hostage her upper lip. He would not be satisfied until the taste of her kiss was left against his lips. Even as the kiss ended, he wouldn’t draw away fully from her. Their lips would still touch as he sighed against them, the thrill of a first kiss forcing his heart to his throat.

There was a certain beautiful thrill in the first kiss of a relationship that made his heart speed in his chest and his stomach somersault even then. His lips trapped hers once again, desiring the taste of her kiss a last time before he drew from her completely.

Conall smiled as his eyes watched Hermione once again; the way her cheeks reddened with her lips. He could feel the beat of her heart against his chest, a rapid movement like a bird fluttering against a cage. His lips left a kiss on her forehead before his arms wrapped around her completely.

Re: 19:30-ish

[thelastgranger]

She'd half been expecting him to launch straight into a kiss, tongue pushing into her mouth before she knew what to think and while she wouldn't have minded... Hermione had never felt so special in all her life, as he took the time to watch her face, look into her eyes. When his thumb glided across her lip she let out a sigh, pressing a kiss to the pad of his finger when it lingered.

Hermione's hand slid into his hair the moment before their lips finally touched, pushing closer her fingers met the warmth of his scalp. The heat of his mouth, the subtle taste of him, it made her head spin in the most delightful manor. Her lips opened and she gently teased his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, finally getting to taste his skin. She'd had no choice but to let her eyes fall closed, eyelids suddenly heavy, even though her head was so light.

This was the sort of kiss you remembered for the rest of your life, one that stole her breath and made her pulse race. Her lips were untutored and unsure but Hermione pressed her mouth back against his regardless.

Gently running her fingers through his hair she met his eyes with a blush colouring her cheeks. 'Wow' probably wasn't the right response, but it was the only thing she could think of as she tried to regulate her breathing, so she said nothing. It was Hermione's turn to sigh as she wrapped her arms around his waist, her cheek resting against his chest, putting her in the perfect position to just breathe him in.

"You got to kiss me, does that mean I get to kiss you now?" Her words and the accompanying laugh were muffled against his chest, her face buried in his shirt.

Re: 19:30-ish

[smallbruises]

The fingers in his hair caused a chill to run down his spine. It had been some time since anybody had chanced to play with the long, blonde locks. Conall had forgotten just how good it felt, such a simple token of affection. He could remember nights, spent with lovers past, where they’d play with his hair until dawn. Those were the nights he could have been convinced he kept his hair long just for that.

He remained quiet for a long moment as he held her. His cheek rested against her hair and his lungs filled with the gentle scent of her perfume and shampoo. Her back became a playground for his hands, but they only smoothed over the fabric of his jacket in long, slow movements from her shoulders to her waist. In such a moment, it was easy to consider staying all night.

“Was the one not enough, ma chère?” He asked gently, finally.

Re: 19:30-ish

[thelastgranger]

It was hard to find the right words to describe this, although bliss came close. With everything that had happened, never again had she expected to feel safe, but wrapped in his arms, it was impossible to feel any other way. Safe and warm and completely out of harm's way. Soothing hands on her back might well have lulled her into the ever elusive sleep, had she not been standing and dressed as she was.

Looking up with her cheek still pressed against him, she smiled softly "One, five, hundreds, thousands... It wouldn never be enough." Shy eyes dropped back down and she unwound her arm from his waist to twist the ends of his hair around her fingers. Hermione had never really imagined she'd find herself in the arms of a man who had hair quite so long and it was rather pleasant to be able to run her fingers through.

Merlin, 'just a work thing' had turned out better than she could ever have imagined. Hermione would be content to stand in his arms all night, but that didn't seem to make her any less eager to feel the warm glide of his lips again.

Re: 19:30-ish

[smallbruises]

A smile spread across Conall's lips at her words. His hands stopped at their movement over her back so his fingers could tangle in the ends of her hair. A soft sigh escaped his chest as he watched her, the way her eyes fell to the ground. Even in the pale wash of the moonlight he could see the way the apples of her cheeks pinked with her nervousness.

"Ma petite chère," he said, his voice barely above a whisper even though they were in complete solitude. "That is a good thing to hear."

His fingers untangled from her hair, only to brush gently over the mass of curls. "Mais, I should get you inside before we freeze. We won't be able to reach thousands if we do." He laughed softly then, his stomach muscles tensing as his chest vibrated. "I will allow you to kiss me goodnight."

Re: 19:30-ish

[thelastgranger]

He was so softly spoken, Hermione couldn't help find it charming. That and he didn't laugh at her, or think her wish for thousands of kisses was silly and if he did, he wasn't making fun of her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, stepping back from the circle of his arms and giving his chest a playful shove. "You'll allow me?" She put her hands on her hips, the action rather loosing it's impact lost inside his jacket. "On second thoughts, I've changed my mind. I don't want to kiss you." Hermione raised her chin in a mock-sulk, looking away from him.

Men. Honestly. Although really, it was just this man. Allow her to kiss him, what an arse. "I think you've got an over-inflated opinion of your kiss, Monsieur."

Okay, maybe she was a little worried there was a reason he wanted to stop their kiss at one (had it been that awful?) but Hermione knew paranoia wasn't an attractive trait... "Find yourself some self confidence, girl!" She said to herself.

Re: 19:30-ish

[smallbruises]

Conall laughed. It was a deep, rich sound that shattered the silence surrounding them. He spread his arms as she pushed him as though asking what he had done wrong. He didn’t reach out for her, though he wanted to. He wouldn’t stop himself from taking a step closer to her. He took two as his arms fell back to his side and he was close enough to her to smell her perfume once again.

“My Anglais,” he started, his accent thickening with his words. “Iz not good.” Even though the thick, nasal accent, his amusement could be heard through his voice. His laugh…

“Per’aps I choose ze ‘rong vords?”