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Storm and rain slashed against the window of the secluded corner of the library that Antonin Dolohov had secured for himself to research for the next Triwizard Tournament's task. A lone book lay on the desk but seemed to have been forgotten rather than indicating that the desk was occupied, so Antonin settled into the chair next to the window, gazing into the grey void, letting his mind wander for a moment before focusing on his work.
His eyes fell onto the book again, and he noticed it to be a well-cared-for, but also well-worn copy of a Charms textbook. A smile softened his dark features — a sight not often to be found on his face due to his rather brooding personality — as it made him think of his own current research and his ambition to become one of the best, no, the best Curse Breaker in wizarding Europe.
He picked the book up to browse through it and was astonished by the amount and extent of annotations in neat handwriting on each and every page. The more he delved into the notes, the more impressed he was. All ideas were definitely smart above average and showed a great understanding of magical theory. Antonin skipped back to the front page to find a name or other indicator of the owner of the book and was not left disappointed: In the same neat handwriting he read “ Hermione Jean Granger (Gryffindor)“.
As Antonin had not bothered with the Hogwart's students so far — he didn't even bother with most students from his own school — he hadn't have any personal encounter with that girl but he remembered some of the condescending slurs of the Slytherins during dinner in the Great Hall. “Swot“ & “insufferable know-it-all“ were at the nicer end of the scale, though having seen Hermione's Charms notes, Antonin couldn't help but feel intrigued — deeply intrigued.
This might be someone he would actually enjoy discussing some of his own academic thoughts with, instead of just bearing with mediocre study partners. Her Charms skills at least seemed to be close to brilliant, or in less humble words close to his own, and based on the Slytherins' ill-meant, but essentially probably somehow true comments this might be the case for other subjects as well. After all, envy is a form of compliment.
Gazing out into the dark December sky again, Antonin was briefly lost in thought, considering if and how to approach the witch. Although never being irrational, he wasn't prone to overthinking either and after a few short moments of contemplation, he decided to act straightaway.
He grabbed his bag and books, along with Hermione's Charms book, and headed out of the Library towards the Gryffindor common room. For a Pureblood raised with good manners and knowledge of appropriate etiquette, giving back a forgotten textbook to another student was an inconspicuous matter of mere politeness. At least Antonin reassured himself so.
oOoOo
Antonin knocked on the door to the Gryffindor common room — possibly a little too hard, a little too demanding, a little too persistent — and just as he raised his fist to knock again, he found himself staring down into the wide eyes of a first or second year Hogwarts student about two feet smaller than him.
“Yes please?“, a feeble voice asked.
“I need to speak to Miss Hermione Granger“, Antonin growled. Well, that was not said good manners and politeness.
“I… I'll fetch her, please… just wait a moment“, came a nervous reply.
In lieu of thanks, Antonin just nodded and took a breath to recollect himself. Sometimes he hated his own impatience as it seemed to make him too rash for his own good but once his mind was settled on something he was stubbornly determined, and now he was determined to get to know this Granger girl.
“You asked to see me?“
Hermione suddenly stood in the door and though she was definitely not as short as the unfortunate young Gryffindor answering Antonin's knock, Antonin found himself looking down into the face of a slender girl barely reaching his shoulders.
“Ahm, yes, I guess we've never properly met — I'm one of the Durmstrang students here for the Tournament. It seems you have forgotten your Charms textbook in the Library and I thought it would be simply good manners to bring it back to you before you start looking for it.“ There now, that was halfway nonchalant and polite.
Hermione's eyes widened. “Oh! Thanks, I hadn't actually noticed yet, forgetting one of my books is not really like me... Well, I really appreciate it, most people don't care about such things, so thanks again.“
She seemed a little nervous and self-conscious as if she didn't really know what to make of the situation and how to react, but her thanks was finally accompanied by a genuine smile.
“You're welcome. I must admit I only noticed it because Charms is my favourite subject, so the familiarity of the book caught my eye — “ Antonin hesitated for a moment but then rambled on a little too much for his own taste, “and I must also admit that therefore I took the freedom to pick it up and browse through it“— a major understatement, he had basically pored over her annotations — “and to be honest I was quite surprised to find that another student than myself seemed to have such an interest in Charms and such a level of understanding“. Now, that was a little more than self-confident, that made him sound downright arrogant. He was short of cursing himself for rambling.
“Oh...I guess that's a compliment?“ And after a small but meaningful pause, Hermione added. “Mr Dolohov, right?“ It was not that Hermione didn't know. She had noticed the fierce young wizard in the Great Hall and in the Library quite a few times as the slightly dark reputation he, same as all Durmstrang students, had made him someone to be aware of. That was also why she was caught rather off-guard when he suddenly stood in front of her at the Gryffindor common room to bring her her Charms book.
She would have thought him to be someone who considered it to be absolutely below himself to be the errand boy for a Hogwarts student he'd never had any business with. Then again, they had never had any business with each other before, and Hermione herself knew better than most people about having a certain reputation based on comments and rumours.
“Yeah, that's right, Antonin Dolohov, but please just call me Antonin…“. He stopped a bit awkwardly, as there wasn't really much left to say. “So… see you around then“, he said, and briskly turned to move down the corridor.
“Ahem, yes… Bye!“ Hermione called after him quietly.
oOoOo
Though Antonin wasn't prone to overthinking, that didn't mean he was immune to it. As he lay in his bed in the guest dorm that night, his mind went back to the few moments with Hermione Granger in the afternoon.
Although it had been just a brief encounter, she fascinated him. He had found other girls attractive and as he was a more than handsome wizard himself, he had also been the object of quite a few teenage girl fancies and flirtatious advances but if he was honest he had never had any real interest in a girl, nothing beyond brief superficial attraction and a little physical interaction in an alcove to still the curiosity of a hormonal teenage boy.
Hermione Granger captivated him as someone who could enkindle him intellectually, and her beauty had a quite different quality from the common conception of beauty. She was small and petite and that was something that Antonin found quite delectable, the idea of holding the little witch in his arms, covering her completely with his larger frame, lifting her up into his arms…
And her hazel, slightly wild curls that were not tamed in a fancy intricate up-do, the peachy skin of her face that needed no glamour charms or make-up — she was a type of girl he preferred over the female aristocrats he usually had to socialize with and who all seemed a little too cold, too restraint, too dull to be passionate about.
But Antonin Dolohov wasn't naive. While he actually little cared what the other Durmstrangs thought about him and didn't care at all what any other students thought or said about him, he had sensed the slightly wary reaction Hermione had shown this afternoon.
And he could and would not risk making a fool of himself by outrightly asking her for a mundane Hogsmead date and being possibly rejected. Also, he knew that silly date activities just wouldn't work for him, he wasn't the wooing and swooning type. Well, if the Prince Charming way would not work for him, he would have to approach it like a Charms master. With that thought, Antonin drifted into sleep.
oOoOo
No outsider would have noticed any change in Antonin Dolohov's behaviour during the next couple of days. He did not nod to Hermione Granger in the corridors, he did not look out for her during meals in the Great Hall, he did not approach or greet her when he saw her in the Library.
Hermione had been sceptical about what to make of the Charms book incident but as Dolohov fell back to being strangers she wrote it off as what it seemed to be, a small kind gesture without any double meaning or second thoughts.
She had considered repaying his polite gesture somehow but as Antonin seemed as distant as ever before she refrained from it, not wanting to give the impression of seeing too much in this small act. Unlike Antonin, Hermione indulged heavily in overthinking and overanalysing and unlike Antonin Hermione often found it harder to admit and accept what she found in her mind. Having been mocked and sneered at a little too often, she would be unwilling to admit even to herself that she had sincerely hoped for another encounter with Dolohov, even if it was just an acknowledging nod in the Library.
She had — hopefully inconspicuously enough — sneaked the information out of Professor Flitwick that Dolohov did not only have by far the best Charms grades among the Durmstrang students but was one of the top students, if not the best, in all other subjects as well, and she would love to ask him to recommend books or give advice for her homework essays. She would so love not being the one helping others for once...She would love someone to care for her just once.
Little did she know that in the meantime, Antonin's mind had worked incessantly on forming a plan how to get closer to the Gryffindor girl. The upcoming Yule Ball would be perfect for his scheme.
oOoOo
Neville leaned over to her: “´Mione, would you do me a favour and dance with me later on? I'd feel silly just sitting here all evening during a ball, but I wouldn't know who else to ask without a close-to-100%-chance of being turned down?“
Hermione swallowed hard. As much as she liked Neville and knew he would never intentionally be mean, at that moment it hurt to be asked to dance just to save face, not because he really wanted to and would genuinely enjoy it. She had no official date for the Yule Ball, and although she felt comfortable enough sitting with her friends at the Gryffindor table, it was just not the same as having a proper date for a ball.
The wizard who fiercely wanted to dance with Hermione — and with her only — stood across the room at the buffet in well-cut black dress robes. Antonin had worked furiously on the spell for tonight's plan, but as there was no way of really testing it beforehand, he simply had to trust in his skills. Despite his confidence, he would be willing to admit without Veritaserum that it was more than a tad risky to tweak a spell that was originally created for fatal punishment, but Antonin was no one to shy away from risks, and he wanted to make sure to have Hermione Granger to himself tonight. He braced himself for a last time and stepped up to the Gryffindor table.
“Excuse me, may I be so bold as to ask you for this dance?“ Hermione blinked and looked up to the hand offered to her by the tall wizard she hadn't noticed approaching.
“Yes, I'd love to“, she managed to answer politely after a moment of surprise. Antonin Dolohov! She felt her heart fluttering, as she had not expected to be asked to dance at all. The Gryffindor boys could not really be bothered with any physical activity other than Quidditch and had according dancing skills, respectively lack thereof, and she was not really friends with any male students from the other Houses.
She took Antonin's hand and he instantly swooped her up into his broad frame, with one hand close to the small of her back and the other holding on to Hermione's slightly trembling small hand in his own much larger one. Hermione tentatively put her other hand on his shoulder.
The confidence the wizard emanated as he led her onto the dance floor was not unpleasant but nothing like the calm Ravenclaws or kind Hufflepuffs she had danced with during the training lessons.
“Are you alright, Hermione? To be honest, you seem a little tense. I assure you that I have no nefarious intentions.“ That's debatable, a small voice in Antonin's mind aimed to intervene but was ignored.
Hermione sighed. “Of course not, I'm sorry, it's just that I...”
”Please, Hermione, just enjoy yourself. Isn't that what a ball is for?“
She smiled and deliberately relaxed her shoulders and let herself melt into the young wizard's lean form a little more. There was a sudden short shudder from her spine down to her feet that Hermione couldn't quite place but she assumed it was her body's last effort to struggle against giving in.
Once she felt more comfortable with the situation, she noticed how expertly Antonin led her across the dance floor. It felt almost like floating, as if her feet moved without her volition. When she paid attention to the music for a moment, she noticed that the song had changed — had they already been dancing for more than one song?
Hermione leaned into the wizard's firm hold again and enjoyed the feeling of the pleasant warmth that radiated from his body, the tentative pressure of his hand on the small of her back, his faint smell… She could keep dancing like this forever.
Antonin smiled to himself. At least the first part of his plan worked out splendidly. He had managed to dispel Hermione's hesitation, and he didn't even have to keep up shallow small talk conversation. As many skills as he had that wasn't one and as much as he would enjoy long and heated academic discussions in the future he was glad that for the time being Hermione had simply done what had told her to do: Relaxing into his arms and enjoying the dance.
As far as he could tell, she had not noticed him casting the spell he had created for tonight at all. Wordlessly, wandlessly — and hopefully correctly. Pushing that nagging little thought aside again, he allowed himself to take in the sensations of the moment.
Holding Hermione felt exactly as he had imagined it, one soft little hand firmly in his, the other hand on his shoulder, her slender back with just this thin layer of fabric between his hand and her bare skin, the subtle scent of her hair — truth be told, it felt beyond what he had imagined.
The song slowly faded out and merged into the next one. Hermione looked up into Antonin's dark eyes. “Thank you! It's been a pleasure, but I think I should not leave my friends alone all evening“, she said and smiled at him warmly.
“All evening? Isn't that a bit exaggerated? I'm sure your fellow Gryffindors see you every day and will do fine without you for one more song.“
Hermione aimed to move politely away from him and the dance floor, but before she really realized what she was doing, she found her feet moving to the next tune. She felt confused for a moment, but her thoughts were interrupted by a whisper close to her ear. “I am glad you changed your mind.“
“I …“ didn't , she wanted to say but then reconsidered it as it sounded foolish . After all, she was still dancing with him.
oOoOo
The music moved on from one song to another again, but by now Hermione really wasn't sure any more how much time had passed since she left the Gryffindor table. Something felt off.
“Well, thank you again, but I definitely need some refreshment. Would you care to join for a drink at the buffet?“, Hermione asked.
“No, I'm fine“, Antonin replied shortly. Hermione's heart twitched in disappointment. Although she still couldn't shake off her self-consciousness completely, she had been quite confident by now that he had not asked to dance out of pity or sheer politeness.
“Alright, see you later perhaps?“, she managed to say before pivoting on her heels.
Hermione had not taken more than one step when her feet jerked around again, and with another swift involuntarily movement she was back in her former dance partner's arms.
“Back so soon?“, Antonin smirked. Hermione was puzzled as to what had just happened.
“No, I … I…“ What should she tell him? That she had no control of her own feet? That would make her sound like an imbecile.
Antonin tensed a little. Now it would show if his plan worked out or if he had underestimated the lure of the festive atmosphere, the music and the physical closeness of dancing. She was a smart and rational person, that was exactly what had intrigued him in the first place, but he had also counted on the assumption that she wasn't an overly suspicious person by nature.
“Are you alright?“, he asked, with what he hoped to be just enough concern in his voice. He held on to her a little closer than before.
“Yes, I'm fine, I just… I guess, I really should get some water. How long have we actually been dancing?“ She tried to ask light-heartedly but as a matter of fact, something felt more and more off.
As before Hermione slid out of the Durmstrang's arms and began to move towards the buffet, but again she was jerked back towards him without her own volition and into the next dance. As this was an upbeat song, she hardly had time to catch her breath and to process what happened to her. She felt as if her head was spinning now, and she held on the lean arms that had held her for what seemed to be almost all evening by now. What was wrong with her?
His breath brushed her ear and she heard his whisper somewhere in the blur of the music that suddenly seemed too loud and dissonant. “Are you unwell?“
“No. No, I'm not, I just need to sit down for a moment, please…“. Hermione hardly heard her own voice and as Antonin did not react other than holding her to him even closer than before she wasn't sure that he had heard her. “I feel dizzy“, she tried again.
The music blurred into another upbeat track and everything was just too much and too fast and Hermione felt like clinging to the tall, young wizard for her dear life. Then suddenly everything went black and she fainted.
Antonin inhaled sharply as he felt Hermione's body going slack against his — and exhaled. Truth be told, this was just what he had planned more or less. He moved the pair of them towards the edge of the dance floor and closer to the exit of the Great Hall. A swift look around assured him that everybody, even the chaperoning professors, was engaged in conversation, drinking or dancing so no one would notice him leaving with Hermione. Antonin picked the petite witch up in one swift motion and carried her out of the Great Hall.
oOoOo
Antonin took Hermione with him into one of the hidden alcoves with a little chaise lounge and sat her down gently. She was still unconscious, and her breathing seemed a little shallow, but he would not try to wake her just yet. Instead, he carefully removed the girl's shoes, took out his wand and whispered “Finite Incatatem“.
Along with the short soft glow of the vanishing spell, Antonin sighed a little relief. He had not bungled the spell of the Cursed Shoes that had caused more than one witch to dance herself to death. It had been a quite popular punishment in the past and due to its public nature had not gone unnoticed by the Muggles. Though they had done what they mostly did when accidentally confronted with magic: turning it into fairy tales.
“ But a pair of iron shoes had already been placed in the fire. When they were red-hot, they were brought out with tongs and placed on the floor. And the wicked queen was made to step into them and dance till she fell down dead.“
To keep Hermione by his side as long as possible and then pry her away from the rest of the crowd to spend some time away from the commotion of the ball, he had modified the spell so that Hermione could not stop dancing with him until not death but natural exhaustion would stop her — as it had. He was only in trouble if she asked too many questions and became suspicious of… well, foul play. Antonin would freely admit, not to Hermione though, that his scheme was more than a tad manipulative. But then again — Durmstrang did not have a dark reputation for no reason…
“Lumos“. The alcove was bathed in soft light and Antonin, sitting down on the chaise longue, stirred Hermione gently. Her eyes fluttered a little before she opened them.
“Hermione, do you feel better? You suddenly fainted at the ball, and everyone was so busy with themselves that I took the freedom to search for a quiet place for you to recover. Or would you prefer to go to the Hospital Wing to have your school nurse check on you?“
Hermione still felt a little too dizzy and confused to process everything.
“Antonin? What happened?“
“We danced at the ball and as I said, you suddenly fainted and…“
Hermione frowned. “Yes, I remember …“ She stopped and frowned even more, but before she could utter another thought Antonin interrupted her.
“Would you like me to fetch you some water?“
Hermione slowly shook her head. “No, I just don't understand…“.
Antonin tensed. He had to move her insistent thoughts away from the effects of the spell. “I hope, you will not keep being unwell as the only memory of the Yule Ball. I have to admit that I enjoyed dancing with you very much, Hermione.“
She looked at him, obviously still dazzled. “I did too. But…“
“But…?“, he nudged in, trying to sound just a little hurt. He had to stir the conversation into a different direction by all means if he wanted to stand a chance to get to know her better. Or even more than that.
Hermione frowned again. “What? No, it's not…“
“Please accept my apology if I misinterpreted anything and overstepped. Should I fetch a professor to escort you to your dorm?“ Antonin stood up and turned to leave the alcove.
Hermione sat up. “Antonin! Wait, I really didn't mean it that way. I'm… Merlin, I feel so exhausted somehow, maybe it's just because normally huge festivities are not really my cup of tea, too loud, too crowded, too much gossip, too many drunken people. But tonight I did enjoy myself, I did enjoy dancing with you.“ She took a breath. “A lot“.
Antonin had to compose himself for a second before turning back to Hermione again. Otherwise, she would have noticed his too smug grin even in the dim light of the Lumos he had cast. “Truth be told, I usually don't enjoy formal dances and the likes either.“ He sat down next to her again. “What is your `cup of tea` then?“
“People mock me because of it all the time, but I simply love reading and studying.“
Inwardly, Antonin exhaled the last bit of relief. He'd made it. “Again, same with me. I guess we share the urge to explore. That's why I was quite fascinated when I browsed your annotated Charms textbook, it reminded me of my own way of thinking.“ No use in holding back now. “We could study together some time while I'm still at Hogwarts if you'd like to.“
“I'd …“. Another moment of hesitation. Antonin frowned inwardly. “I'd love to. Which other subjects do you favour?“
“Runes, Potions, Arithmancy - but I want to become a Curse-Breaker after graduation so Charms is my particular favourite. What about you?“
Antonin repositioned himself on the chaise longue closer to Hermione, seemingly to make himself a little more comfortable, but Hermione noticed it for what it was and suppressed a shy smile. She remembered how good dancing with him had felt and copied his manoeuvre so that their thighs touched, though just barely.
oOoOo
For a second time this night, albeit for a very different reason, Hermione lost track of time. They seemed to have talked for hours when she felt tiredness finally taking its toll on her. Antonin noticed how she could barely keep her eyes open anymore.
“Should I escort you to your dorm before you fall asleep here?“
“I am tired but… I fear that if we end this conversation now, although you asked me to study together, this evening will just be like magic that ends at midnight, and then everything vanishes and...”
Insecurity and hesitation had sneaked into her voice once more, but that was exactly what made Antonin feel the opposite. He had to suppress the look of terrible smugness for a last time before he turned to Hermione and looked at her intensely .
“Oh, no need to worry, I'm no fairytale Prince“, Antonin whispered and then captured Hermione's lips in a kiss, his dark eyes glinting with mischief.
~ FIN~