Dance With Me Harry

DANCE WITH ME HARRY

By Aerie22

CHAPTER 17

"I Decide"

"Ron, get up!"

A muffled moan came from beneath the covers.

Harry smiled at Seamus and Dean. "I talked to Dobby. They're having your favorites this morning. Batwing omelets and monkey brain soup with a nice cup of hot, steaming dragon bile."

Seamus and Dean snickered and made gagging sounds.

Suddenly, the grinning Seamus brought out his wand. Harry shook his head vigorously. Seamus was one of the funniest people he knew. But sometimes, Seamus could be a little overzealous and heavy-handed in his pranks. Once, Harry got up out of bed only to fall eight feet to the floor after Seamus decided it might be fun to levitate the beds. And Seamus had gotten a serious set of hexes when he hit Parvati with a charm as she was walking out of the common room on her way to a date. Parvati's plaits unraveled and her hair frizzed up into a huge ball of tight curls. Seamus couldn't sit down for hours after that little stunt.

So Harry managed to restrain Seamus this time. Instead, he tried to pitch his voice up an octave as he gently shook Ron's shoulder. "Ron, honey. It's me. Parvati," Harry whispered, trying to mimic her voice. "You were wonderful last night. But could I please have my bra back."

Ron stirred, then rolled over with a groggy half-smile on his face. "Hmmmm?" he said sleepily. Suddenly, his eyes came into focus. "Whaaaa?" he said, sitting up quickly and looking around in confusion as Seamus and Dean began laughing hysterically. "What's going on?" he said in grumpy confusion.

Neville walked in from his shower and looked around at his three laughing roommates. He gave a small smile. "What's going on?"

Dean looked at Neville, gasping for breath. "Ron won't give Parvati her bra back," he managed to choke out.

Neville looked at Dean, then at Ron. "Ron," he said quietly, the smallest of smiles playing around the corners of his mouth. "Give Parvati her bra back. I don't think it will fit you," he said evenly, and walked over to his bed.

At this point, Seamus and Dean and Harry and Ron looked at each other in shock, then collapsed in laughter.

* * *

It was a beautiful late summer day. It was warm and there were few clouds in the sky. Harry looked over at Hermione, who was reaching for another piece of toast before Ron finished off the entire plate. She looked so cute, Harry thought. He sighed. Then he looked up at the charmed ceiling and got an idea.

"You know what would be fun, today?"

Hermione turned and looked at Harry with a smile. "What?"

"A picnic. Instead of coming here for lunch, I could go down to the kitchens and get Dobby to prepare some sandwiches and some flasks of pumpkin juice or iced tea and we could go out and eat on the Great Lawn," he said.

Ron's eyes lit up. "That would be great. It's real nice out and maybe we could get a little broomwork afterwards." But then Ron looked at his friend, who was looking with an anxious smile at Hermione. "Oh, wait," he said suddenly. "I promised to get together with Fred and George over some of the stuff they're working on. Sorry, Harry."

Harry looked up suddenly at Ron, who gave him a wink. Harry was surprised. He had made the suggestion innocently. But maybe this was a way to talk to Hermione alone. Maybe...to tell her how he felt. He gave Ron a grateful nod. He looked back at Hermione. She was still smiling but there was something in her eyes that was different.

She tilted her head at Harry and her smile broadened. "Oh, Harry. That sounds like such a wonderful idea," she said in a voice that seemed a little strange. "But I really do have to work on our History of Magic essay. You should, too, Harry. Oh, do come up to the library with me. It'll be fun."

Harry blinked at her. "Hermione. That essay isn't due until Friday. It's Sunday. Come on. It's a day of rest!"

Hermione gave him an almost pleading look. "But...lessons are beginning in earnest this week. No more reviews. And if we get behind at the start, we'll never catch up. Come on. We can spend the day in the library together," she said, now sounding like she was pleading.

Harry closed his eyes in disappointment. "Maybe."

* * *

Harry was strangely quiet as they made their way back to Gryffindor House.

But so was Hermione.

Quiet and preoccupied.

She didn't know what to do. If it were she and Harry and Ron, that would be fine. But just she and Harry. She didn't know if she was ready to deal with that. Not just right now.

It was different in the library. That was her home ground. She felt in control there. She knew she wouldn't say something foolish. Something she would regret. Something that would change everything.

She sighed quietly. Hermione hated thinking about all this. It was so nice now. Harry was almost always with her. He came to the library almost every night. He was always there as a comfort.

And Ron seemed a little calmer this year. He still argued with her over studies or her supposed bossiness. But he seemed strangely calm at times, as if he were preoccupied about something. Maybe he was the one who liked Lavender after all, she thought.

She had been upset and furious when he saw Harry and Lavender walking arm-in-arm, laughing earlier in the week. But, except for exchanging a few words in the common room, he and Lavender didn't seem to be acting any different from before. And Lavender wasn't one for secret romances. If she and Harry were a couple, she'd he on his lap or hanging all over him in the hallways, marking Harry as hers like some she-wolf marking her territory.

So things were back to normal. But Hermione knew they wouldn't be for long if she were to go picnicking alone with Harry. She knew she would say something stupid. She would tell him how she felt. Or burst into tears. Or maybe jump into his arms. And she knew that would ruin everything.

* * *

Harry was troubled about Hermione during chapel services. 'When will Hermione stop hiding in the library all the time?' he thought. 'It's a beautiful day. It's a day to dance.'

Then he turned to his firsties. He was surprised that there were no dropouts among his first years. He had reassured him that they were under no obligation to attend Sunday services, but they were there ready for him before he came down from his dorm for the third Sunday in a row. He hoped that they were not going simply to please him. But he had to admit that he found a sense of satisfaction that they all seemed to be deriving as much value from this quiet hour on Sunday as he was.

The services were about over when he noticed some shuffling off to the side. He turned to see Seamus and Dean quickly leave their seats and start toward the exit ahead of everyone else. He frowned. He didn't like the look on their faces, and decided to follow them.

As he entered the corridor, he saw Seamus and Dean scurry down the corridor, following the Gray Ghost--the figure in the gray hooded monk's robe. Suddenly Seamus stopped. "Ventus Mihi," he said with a wave of his wand.

A sudden gust of wind came rushing down the corridor at them. The Gray Ghost's hood suddenly billowed in the wind and was blown back, revealing a silver blond head of hair. The figure turned, showing a face that was a mixture of fear and fury.

It was Malfoy.

Malfoy reached into the heavy robes but Harry was quicker. "Expelliarmus," Harry said quietly. The wand, which Malfoy still was fumbling with, flew out of his hands as he rocked slightly on his heels. Harry caught it in mid air. The fury on Malfoy's face only seemed to increase as he quickly threw the hood over his head and dashed down the corridor, turning into closet near the end of the hall.

Harry turned with his own fury on his roommates. "Not a word of this. Not one word. If I hear anything about this, you won't have to worry about house points. There'll be nothing left of you to deduct from." Harry turned on his heel and strode toward the closet at the end of the corridor as the rest of the Sunday worshippers started exiting the chapel.

As Harry opened the door and almost was hit by a tin of metal polish being swung by its handle. Harry's reflexes were just good enough to avoid the blow. He caught Malfoy's arm on the follow through with his left hand and pushed the Slytherin against the wall, his wand pressed against Malfoy's throat.

Malfoy struggled a couple times, but Harry was surprised that he was now taller than his rival, and stronger.

Finally, Malfoy stopped struggling and simply glared, nose-to-nose, at Harry. "My wand," he growled.

"What were you doing there? In the chapel," Harry growled back.

"Give me back my wand," Malfoy snarled back.

"Not until you tell me what you were doing."

"Go to hell, Potter."

Harry narrowed his eyes as Malfoy made another sudden move to try to break loose. Harry's grip tightened and he pressed his wand against Malfoy's throat. "Don't try it. You know what a hex to the throat can do."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed even further. "I'll go wherever I please, you filthy bastard."

Harry was breathing hard. "Spying for your master? Taking names of those who worship someone other than your Dark Lord, eh Malfoy."

Malfoy seemed to cringe. Then a new fierceness appeared in his eyes. And a touch of fear. "I have as much right to be there as you, Potter," he growled.

"Chapel isn't for Death Eater scum doing their master's bidding."

Malfoy was now seething. "I..." he snarled, but with a note of uncertainty. "I do no one's bidding. Not Voldemort's...Not Dumbledore's...Not...my father's. And certainly not yours, you bloody bastard. I decide...what's best for me," he growled through clenched teeth.

Harry blinked. He slowly eased his grip on Malfoy and pushed him down on the bench along the side of the closet. Harry stepped back and sat down on a crate against the wall on the other side of the closet. "Why the disguise?" Harry said warily.

Malfoy continued to watch Harry with an angry expression. "What do you care?"

Harry glared at the Slytherin. "Going to services isn't some costume party. It's something we take seriously. Or wouldn't you know about that?"

Malfoy shook his head slowly. "You could never understand, you smug bastard."

"So why?"

Malfoy closed his eyes in resignation. "You'll know soon enough once you and all your pals get done telling everyone and chuckling over it."

Harry blinked in surprise. 'What was he saying? What was going to happen?'

You've been sneaking off to see Meacham, haven't you," Harry said quietly.

"None of your bloody business," Malfoy said sullenly.

Harry paused to ponder as the he eyed his enemy, who had leaned his head back against the closet wall, his eyes still closed.

"Malfoy!" Harry said, suddenly.

The Slytherin opened his eyes in time to see Harry toss him his wand. He fumbled, then caught it.

Harry looked into Malfoy's eyes to see what he could read. Fear. Resignation. Anger.

"No one is going to talk about this to anyone," he said in a low voice.

Malfoy looked at him with suspicion.

Harry watched Malfoy. Then, as if of it's own accord, his hand came out with an offer to shake.

Malfoy looked down at the outstretched hand, then looked up at Harry.

"Go to hell, Potter," he snapped and abruptly turned to the back wall of the closet. He uttered a charm and a door opened up. Malfoy passed through and was gone.

Harry sat there in a daze. Could it be...?

As he sat there, he smelled the odd smells in the closet. The smell of potions and ingredients. Of old mops and dirt. Of sweat. And something else.

Possibly the smell of bridges being burned.