"And finally we honour the three pillars of our survival," McGonagall finally heralded. "The three heroes of the war who took up every possible escapade to shield us from the dread of the Dark Lord. May I present before you, the Golden trio. Please step on stage, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter!"

Cheers erupted from every corner of the Great Hall. Hermione flounced upright, held Ron-cum-Draco by his arm and pulled him up too. Draco glanced around him and a discontented frown appeared on his face. Two reasons for it. Reason no. 1- Weasley was supposed to be a useless, little, slug-spitting git. Reason no. 2- Even if he wasn't, he should have had at least some sense to wear considerably appropriate clothes to such a stupendous gathering. He sighed as he looked at his scarlet sweatshirt with the initials 'Go Go Gryffindor!' and informal jogging pants.

What if his father heard about this?

It was, after all, Weaselby he was talking about. Any person with something in his head wouldn't wear his mum's old frill robes to the Yule Ball.

"Come on, Ron!" Granger looked at him. She wasn't much good of fashionista herself. But compared to Weasley, she looked like a goddess. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, and she wore a white satin shirt and a black knee-length pencil skirt. He mentally made a note to get her some better clothes whilst he was her boyfriend.

"Ladies first, please." He tried to give her a crooked smile as he showed the way to the stage to her. Midst the incessant roaring of the crowd, Granger flashed him a surprised smile with her perfect teeth. As far as he'd remembered, Granger was known for her square, large front teeth. There were so many things he needed to know.

"You're being a gentleman, Ronald!" Hermione laughed. "That's too ironical."

"There's nothing about me if not ironical." Draco glared at her with his orbs. They belonged to Ron, but the spirit they displayed was unknown to Hermione.

Hermione slipped her arm into his, and although Draco felt a twinge of discomfort dwindle up him, he didn't react. Potter was already trundling up the stairs. They needed to go too.

As the couple marched onstage, wild roaring from either side shot Draco's head up. He was a Malfoy. There was nothing he could do better than creating scenes. He slipped his hand around her waist, and the crowd roared even louder.

"What are you doing?" Granger's eyes widened as she stared at him wildly.

"Exactly what you think I am doing." Draco responded soberly. He acted as though it was perfectly normal for him to win prizes for defending the world.

"You're creating a scene here."

"No, I am doing a favour to the media." He steered Hermione to the right, and she was almost blinded by the clicks of the cameras.

"They anyways haven't gotten hot news for a while now."

..........................................***......................................................

Hermione scanned the crowds for Ginny. And then she saw her. She looked equally mystified as Hermione. Ron had changed drastically. Not only had he developed a type of self-respect and confidence, he also knew the art of handling the media well. What enlightened his mind after the bathroom-trip? Moaning Myrtle?

Ron and she stepped onto the podium and the crowds cheered. McGonagall smiled at her, and she returned the favour. She flipped three big, gold medals out of a red chest and held one of them in her hand.

"Miss Hermione Granger is awarded the Cleverest Witch of the Age." The entire hall broke into a series of applaud as the medal slung down her neck. Hermione beamed at the crowd. There was at least something that her boyfriend knew more than her.

"Mr. Ronald Weasley is declared the most loyal and faithful of all Accomplices!"

Ron walked to McGonagall in his new, boisterous fashion.

No, Hermione. She told herself. One cannot start walking like Rihanna from Mad-Eye Moody in such a small span of time. How is he walking so smoothly?

McGonagall decorated the medal on his chest and he gave her a brisk, cold smile. She didn't mind. Then, he walked to Hermione, kissed the medal and held it before the crowd. It boomed louder than a lion. There was something inappropriate.

"Mr. Harry Potter, the bravest Gryffindor of all time."

As Harry received the honour, the crowd went nuts and all began clapping, Hermione scrutinised Ron. He was clapping too. But his face reflected something else. Monotony and disinterest shone through his eyes. It was as though Ron had been wearing someone else's shoes and was unable to fit in. Or vice versa.

Author's Note:
Hey there! Thanks a bunch for reading this chapter of Brandy- A Dramione fanfiction. I really hope you loved it. Also, I would really appreciate it if you could encourage your fellow WatPadders to read it, and if loved, vote for it.

XoXo
Clevator