A Hogwarts Reunion

Draco was growing increasingly agitated, watching the werewolf spin Pansy around the floor. He didn't know what made him angrier- the fact that she'd accepted a dance with someone else in the middle of their conversation, or the fact that she was dancing with someone who wasn't him. He stood abruptly, knocking his chair to the floor as he did, and made his way onto the dance floor. He tapped the werewolf on the shoulder.

"May I cut in?" he asked, his polite tone sounding forced. The werewolf shrugged, dropped a kiss on the back of Pansy's hand, and began making his way towards the refreshment table. Pansy blinked in surprise as Draco wrapped his arms around her waist and began twirling her around with him.

"It was very rude of you to accept a dance with someone else while you were in the middle of a conversation with me, you know," he informed her. She gave him a small smile even as her cheeks turned crimson.

"Why, Draco," she said, her eyes sparkling with laughter. "If I didn't know that it wasn't possible, I'd think you were jealous." He took her hand and led her to the refreshment table.

"Malfoys don't get jealous," he drawled coolly, handing her a plastic cup of amber liquid. "But we do always get what we want." She arched an eyebrow at him as she lifted the cup to her lips.

"And what happens if you want something, but you don't get it?" she sipped at the sweet liquid. He eyed her thoughtfully.

"That's never happened before."

"It could."

"It won't." The corners of her lips turned up, but she turned her head before he could see her knowing smile.

***

"So this is your idea of mingling?" Harry asked, fighting back a smile. Ginny shrugged. They had been walking outside of the castle ever since the flobberworm (who had turned out to be Terry Boot) had assaulted her in his attempt at asking her to dance.

"I had to get away after Boot the flobberworm groped me," she said, pulling a face at him. He laughed. "I may be scarred for life, you know."

"Somehow I doubt that," he said, the laughter still in his voice. "There's no way you're going to get me to believe that you haven't been through worse with Fred and George."

"True," she said, grinning. "And wouldn't they be ashamed of me that I was put off by a flobberworm, of all things?"

"Frankly, I'm embarrassed, myself," he said. She glanced at him and burst into giggles when she saw his mock-ashamed face, and he stepped away from her as he walked. "Can't have anyone thinking I'm interested in the cowardly Weasley, can I?"

"You'd better hope that if you are interested in one of the Weasleys that I'm the one you're interested in - otherwise you'd have problems. Besides, half of the female population of the Wizarding world would probably enter into convents, or something."

"And why is that?" he chuckled, stepping closer to her again.

"If you didn't like girls," she pointed out. "And I know I'm being positively cheeky, assuming that you do, since you've been away so long that I realize I don't know anything about you anymore."

"You think that my being gone has turned me into a poofter?" he asked, surprised. She laughed. "I assure you, solitary confinement has not turned me away from women."

"Right," she teased, nodding. He stopped walking, and she turned to face him.

"Do you really think I prefer men?" he asked, his face clouding over. She blinked.

"Harry," she took a step towards him and put her hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I was just kidding."

"No, you really believe it, I can tell." He frowned.

"I don't," she protested. Then, "You don't prefer men, do you?" He raised his eyebrows at her. Without warning, he reached forward and cupped her cheeks in his hands, then brushed his lips against hers. She was so surprised that she didn't even get the chance to kiss him back before he pulled away and gave her a triumphant look.

"Did that feel like I prefer men?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. She took a deep breath in a futile attempt to calm her rapidly beating heart, then met his eye.

"Well, I wouldn't know," she said, tapping her chin with her forefinger. "It was over too quickly. But now that you mention it, it sort of reminded me of the kiss I got once from Dean Thomas, and you know he turned out to -" Harry cut her off by pressing his lips against hers again, this time with more pressure.

She was struggling to maintain control of the situation, but it was difficult to hang on to her composure as it sank in that Harry Potter, the object of her unrequited affections for years, was standing here in the moonlight with her, kissing her. His warm hands touched her bare shoulders, eliciting a tiny shiver from her.

He lifted one of his hands to touch the side of her face, and his thumb gently stroked the smoothness of her cheek. When he pulled away, she was breathless and wide-eyed. It hadn't been an open-mouthed kiss, but that hadn't made it any less intense for her. He stared at her for a moment before cracking a grin.

"You're too gullible," he laughed. She blinked at him.

"What?"

"You're too gullible," he repeated, reaching for her hand. "I thought you'd be more alert than that. You let me trick you into kissing me." He threaded his fingers through hers and they began walking again.

"And who says it wasn't me doing the tricking?" she asked, recovering quickly from her initial shock.

"You think you tricked me?" he laughed.

"Didn't I?" she teased, arching an eyebrow. "I called into question your sexual orientation. You were obligated to defend yourself. And let's not forget who brought Dean Thomas' name up." She giggled at the look on his face.

"Okay, you win," he said, throwing his free hand up in the air. "But you have to admit, you did give me the perfect opening for kissing you."

"On purpose," she lied. He grinned.

"Whatever you say, Gin."

***

"Ron, I really don't feel like another dance right now," Hermione said forcibly, effectively ending the redhead's pleading. "My feet are killing me. I just wish we could find Harry and Ginny, because after I talk to them one more time, I think I'm going to call it a night."

"Mione!" he whined, throwing his hands up in the air. "We have to at least stay and watch to see who wins the costume contest!" She rolled her eyes.

"And why would we want to see that? Do you think you've got a shot at winning, or something?"

"I've got just as good a chance as anyone else here has," he said defensively, his chest puffing up a bit. She laughed.

"Oh, all right," she said, shaking her head. "But if I'm too tired for our date this weekend, you'll know why." His face fell. Ever since Harry had left them, they had had weekly chats, whether through floo or in person. Ron had to admit that the floo chats were becoming more frequent than the physical visits, due in large part to Hermione's reluctance to leave the castle.

"You can't be too tired, because this week I'm taking you out," he proffered weakly. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Taking me out where? I thought we were having another floo visit."

"Hermione," he said seriously, reaching across the table for her hand. "You can't keep yourself locked away at Hogwarts all the time. It's not healthy. You need to get out more." Hermione found her eyes locked on his hand, which was covering hers loosely.

"I don't like going out, Ron. You know that." Had his thumb just brushed across her knuckles?

"But there are so many things we need to do," he explained, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He paused for a moment, and his face fell slightly. "Would you go if Harry did?" Her eyes snapped up to meet his, but he was staring hard at the tabletop.

"Ron," she chastised gently. He braved a look at her. "If you really want me to go, I'll go. There's no need to drag Harry along." The grin he gave her could have easily melted silver, and her heart lurched crazily inside her chest.

"You'll go then?"

"Of course," she said. She pushed away all of the reasons she had recited to herself last weekend (and over the last several years, if she wanted to be honest with herself) as to why she should not fall in love with her best friend. It was completely impossible to remember those reasons when he was sitting there, smiling at her like that. "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, first I thought we'd take a walk." He's been my best friend since I was eleven.

"Then I thought we could stop off for some light dinner." He has a really nasty temper, although most of the time it's not directed at me...

"After that, maybe we could go get some coffee or ice cream." He knows me too well. He knows exactly what I do and don't like, and he always makes sure I'm taken care of, doesn't he?

"And then a movie?" He's always checking on me to make sure I'm all right, and he's always the one who listens to me when I cry. He's even given up dating to be with me.

Hermione felt as though someone had struck her, and her eyes widened as she looked at him. He blinked, and his smile faded. "Or would you rather see the movie first?" he asked nervously, shifting under her gaze.

"Ron," she said breathlessly.

"No movie?" he squeaked, his ears turning scarlet.

"Ron." Why hadn't she seen it sooner?

"Yes?"

"Shut up and kiss me."