"Between Father and Weasley over there, there’s going to be trouble, mark my words," Draco said.  As the music started again and he spun her around Hermione got a look at Ron, who still looked apoplectic.  Ignoring him, she snaked her arms around Draco’s neck, and enjoyed being close to him.  When the dance ended, she linked her arm through his and followed him out through the double doors and into the gardens.  It was a relief to escape the stifling ballroom into the cool evening air.  They sat together on an ornately carved garden bench, the scent of late fall flowers all around them.  Holding Draco’s hand, Hermione wished she could escape the dress too.  How women used to breathe in these things, she thought, was beyond her.