Something unexpected

Master Potter,

My heartiest congratulations on escaping the Dementors. I expect, by now, you will have reached Miss Granger - do not worry, for we will not give you away. By 'we', I mean, of course, myself, my assistant and Miss Weasley. Do not tarry, Master Potter, for we will do with Miss Weasley what we must........

Until next time.

Harry finished the letter and stooped to pick up the small leather pouch that had fallen out when he had unrolled the parchment. The owl clicked its beak angrily, but Harry barely heard it. As if in a dream, he paid the owl a few coins and let it fly out through the window. Curiously, he opened the pouch, and emptied the contents into his palm. A lock of silky red hair tied up in a ribbon fell out. He gasped - for it was Ginny's hair. The phrase was echoing around his head. "Do not tarry, Master Potter, for we will do with Miss Weasley what we must....."

******

Abrielle's head whipped around. Ron took off his deerstalker. Abrielle paled.

"Ron, eet is you, non?" she asked fearfully.

"Abrielle, what are you doing here?" Ron was truly shocked.

"Please, I implore you, do not tell anyone, you 'ave seen me here. I come from a very respectable family, zey would be mortified," Abrielle confessed, tears leaking from her eyes.

Ron moved forward and slipped an arm around her shoulders. "Why are you here, Abrielle? I thought you were wealthy, and desired by many men. In fact, you could have your pick of the men. Why pick these ageing men?"

Abrielle gave a derisive snort. "Desirable? Yes, I'm desirable, if you mean no men will come near me, for fear of....." Abrielle struggled for the right word.

"Rejection?" Ron answered.

"Oui, rejection, exactamente. Zis is a way of checking I am still wanted with ze men." Abrielle finished.

Ron had never heard something so ludicrous in his life. "I won't tell anyone, Abrielle," he said, "but would you do something for me?"

Abrielle looked up at him and widened her eyes. "What is eet?"

"Will you accompany me to the Freshers' Ball next week?" Ron gabbled in a nervous rush, blushing red to the roots of his tawny hair.

"I would be 'appy to go with you, Ron," she said in her throaty French voice.

******

Hermione took her ball gown from out of her wardrobe and smiled happily. She turned to Harry and held it up self-consciously against herself. It was a beautiful colour, deep red and was crafted from flowing silk. Spaghetti straps were attached to a fitted bodice. The dress would cling to every curve, the skirt fanning out behind her as she walked.

Harry gave a low whistle. "That looks amazing, Hermione."

Hermione blushed prettily, accentuating the freckles on her nose. She hustled into the bathroom and Harry heard the shower turn on. He heard her singing quietly and smiled to himself.

******

Draco waited by the main doors for Camille to turn up. He sighed impatiently and looked at his watch. Ten minutes late already! A tap on his shoulder and a slight cough indicated that Camille was behind him. He turned slowly and cast a glance lazily at her through slitted eyes. He widened them. Camille was wearing a black silk ball gown. The bodice clung to her every curve, and Draco suspected she had used a holding charm to keep her dress from falling down.

"Well?" Camille asked, pouting.

"Very....nice," Draco drawled, "let's go in."

He took her arm and they walked down the stone staircase into the Functions Hall. A band was playing on a stage at the very end of the hall. On the ceiling, butterflies fluttered, fairies and nymphs cavorted. The dancefloor was made of what seemed like ice, but with beautiful little enchanted flowers captured in it. The hall was swathed in deep red and purple drapes and a doorman stood ready to announce to couples entering the hall. Draco himself was wearing a black dress suit, which contrasted starkly with his silvery blonde hair. He spotted Hermione over the other side of the hall with Zackary de Tritus. She looked beautiful, a white orchid in her her stood out and the deep red dress she wore showed off her lean, lithe body as she whirled around the dance floor, never taking her eyes off of her date for one second. A smile radiated her features and her eyes twinkled. Her hair hung in a deep brown curtain, cascading down her back.

"Draco?" Camille sounded bored. "Get me a drink," she snapped. Draco sighed and reluctantly made his way to the drinks table. He scooped out a glassful of punch and gave it to Camille. She sipped it delicately. He noticed Camille was no longer in the hall. He also noticed that Zackary was fetching a drink for when she arrived. He watched as Zackary brought a small bottle out of his pocket, and, checking no one was watching, emptied the contents directly into Hermione glass of punch. Draco felt the rage bubble up inside him. He marched over to Zackary, barely hearing a faint voice behind him saying:

"Draco, what are you doing? You're not going to show me up are you? Draco? Draco!"

"What do you think you're doing, de Tritus?" he asked, lowering his voice to a menacing hiss.

Zackary smiled pleasantly at Draco. "I'm getting my date a drink, whilst she takes a trip to the ladies' room."

"I saw you spike her drink, de Tritus." Draco said through clenched teeth.

Zackary grew angry. "I most certainly did not!" he huffed. "Why are you doing this, Draco?" he said pityingly, "Just because I've got the date you want...." he teased.

"Let's see if you can fight as well as you act," Draco replied threateningly. Zackary attempted to land a punch on Draco, but Draco caught his fist neatly and laughed. "You fight like a girl, de Tritus. Unfortunately I'm a man." He turned to leave the hall. Couples all around had turned to stare. Nobody noticed Hermione come in from the ladies' room. Zackary leaped on Draco the minute his back turned and punched him around the head repeatedly. Draco staggered backwards and aimed a punch at Zackary. Draco's fist and Zackary's nose met together in a sickening crunch.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Hermione screamed and pushed the two apart. "What is going on here?"

"He spiked your drink so he do what he wanted with you, and treat you like his whore," Draco said malevolently.

"Is this true, Zack?" Hermione enquired, turning scarlet with anger.

"NO!" he denied emphatically.

"Save it, de Tritus," Draco sneered, or tried to with a cut lip, bloody nose and rapidly swelling eye.

"FUCK YOU ALL!" screamed de Tritus, so loud that even the nymphs on the ceiling were momentarily distracted and the band stopped playing.

He launched himself at Draco. Hermione, thinking quickly yelled "Expelliarmus!"and pointed her wand at Zackary. Zackary sailed through the air and crashed into the drinks table. Glasses, punch bowls and punch rained down on the unsuspecting guests. Draco stalked from the hall, a furious look on his face. Hermione hesitated, before following Draco out of the hall.

******

Hermione anxiously followed the pattering footsteps of Draco out of the main campus building. She had half expected him to turn into the dorm, but instead, he kept going, heading to the very edge of campus. She could no longer hear his erratic footsteps and laboured breathing, but could see his shadowy form. Draco stopped unexpectedly beside the lake. Hermione softy walked up to him.

"Draco," was all she said. Draco did not turn around. She saw him shift from foot to foot agitatedly. Hermione tapped him on the shoulder. "Draco," she said again. Draco flinched and turned around. Hermione looked into his eyes, almost catching a glimpse another Draco. "Did he really do it? Zack I mean."

Draco nodded and winced with the pain. "Yes. I saw him," he said flatly.

Hermione fumbled with the clasp of her evening bag and produced a tissue. She offered it silently to Draco, but he didn't take it. She pushed his hair out of his face and dabbed at it with the tissue. Draco did not move.

"I saw him take out a bottle and shake whatever was in it into your glass of punch," he said hollowly.

"And I didn't think you cared," Hermione teased, quickly realising by Draco's silence that this was not the time, nor the place.

Draco smiled, but the smile was false, as it did not quite meet his eyes. Hermione moved her hand to Draco's lip and lightly brushed it with the tissue. Draco flinched, as if her touch had scalded him.

"Why do you bother, mudblood?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled by the tissue.

Hermione looked up at him slowly and he saw tears in her eyes. She withdrew her hand quickly and looked down, trying to hide her face. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and halting. Draco had to strain to hear it.

"Because I care."

She turned and started across the campus field. "What? WHAT?" shouted Draco after her. Then it hit him. "Because I care."

******

In the safety of Hermione's room, Harry prepared to leave. He wrapped his cloak around him tightly and gripped his broomstick in his right hand. With the left he carried a letter. He left this on Hermione's bed. He took one last look at his surroundings and pushed open the window. The cool evening air breezed in. He stood on the sill and kicked off.

******

Draco mentally slapped himself. He set off in pursuit of Hermione. He broke into a run to catch up with her. "Hermione!" he called. "Stop!" Hermione stopped and did not turn around, just as Draco had done moments earlier. Draco skidded up to her and gently took hold of her shoulders and turned her round to face him. Tears streaked her cheeks and she looked up. One of her straps slid down a slender shoulder. Draco pushed it up with his thumb and felt she was shivering, even though it was not cold. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm sorry." He took off his cloak and enveloped her in it, an act of tenderness very uncharacteristic of Draco. Impulsively, he pulled her to him and covered her mouth with his. Hermione protested weakly, and tried to pull away. Draco smelt her hair and caressed her back. He felt true satisfaction when Hermione began to kiss back. She opened her mouth slightly, inviting Draco to explore. Draco slipped his tongue in and the kiss began to get more heavy. Hermione pushed him hard back against the dormitory wall, pressing her body up against his. Her fingers entwined in his hair. Draco shifted his body away slightly, not wanting her to know what she was doing to him, he felt like his mind was going into overload. He stoked her hair and ran his hand down the gossamer thin silk of her bodice. The kiss became more sensuous. He stroked her leg distractedly. It was Hermione who finally broke the kiss, her face flushed, her eyes bright.

"Should we be doing this, Draco?" she asked shyly.

"It feels good to me," Draco said quietly.

He took her hand and they walked into the dormitory.

******

Ron strolled into the hall where the ball was being held with a smiling Abrielle on his arm and heads turned. Some looks of envy were projected across the hall to Ron, and some of surprise to Abrielle. Ron smiled broadly. "Care to dance?" he asked Abrielle.

"Certainly," said she. He took her hand and led her into the centre of the seething mass on the dance floor. What Abrielle had not counted on, of course, was that Ron had two left feet. Ron whirled Abrielle around, jeopardising the lives of the fellow students. She threw her head back and laughed. Ron grinned. "'Ere, I will show you 'ow to dance," she said, smiling. "Step back with ze left. Now to ze side. Now forward. Eh bien!" she clapped her hands in delight. Ron's dancing hadn't improved by a great deal, but it was a start. Ron blushed and smiled widely. He felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around.

"May I cut in," a man asked, obviously wealthy by the various insignia on his cloak.

"I believe this dance is mine," Ron replied sweetly.

The man pushed Ron roughly. "Don't you know who I am?" he demanded.

"No, why don't you enlighten me?" Ron replied sarcastically.

Abrielle spoke. "Ron, 'e is the son of the French Minister of Magic. I will dance with 'im."

Ron looked at her with imploring eyes. Abrielle shook her head and mouthed "I will be back soon" through seductive, pouting lips. Ron grumpily sat down on a chair and watched them dance; the guy was obviously a much better dancer than he. He watched as the guy's clammy hands slid down to rest on Abrielle's buttocks. She was obviously uncomfortable with this arrangement, and looked over to Ron helplessly. Ron saw the guy try to steer Abrielle out of the door. He stood up. He strode over and wrenched the wandering hands off of Abrielle. "Get your hands off of her," he ordered roughly. The guy looked incensed.

"Only when you get your dirty hands off of my robes," he said smoothly. "You're so poor you couldn't even afford my spit!" He continued trying to hustle Abrielle from the hall. "Now, if you don't mind, Abrielle and I have a little.....business to attend to."

Ron blocked the doorway. "I. Do. Mind," he hissed slowly, taking care to enunciate each word.

The guy punched him hard and he staggered backwards. He grabbed his wand and pointed it at him. "You never told me your name.....but perhaps when I'm done with you, you won't be able to," Ron seethed. They guy let go of Abrielle and reached for his wand. "Stupefy!" Ron yelled. He grabbed Abrielle's hand and ran before the crowds could pour out of the hall to see the what the commotion was all about. He and Abrielle ran, laughing down the corridors. "They may come looking for you later, let's go to my room," he said to Abrielle. Abrielle nodded, gasping for breath from her exertions. Ron led her by the hand to his room. He realised he was still holding her hand and dropped it immediately. He wrestled his door open. Abrielle stepped in and looked around, and then directly to his pile of dirty underwear on the floor. Ron coughed loudly and kicked it under the bed.

******

As Draco and Hermione entered the dorm, they were oblivious to the shouts of fear emanating from the Functions Hall. The rest of the campus was being plagued by Dementors, looking for the late-departed Harry Potter. Muffled shrieks and curses were let forth and people streamed from the building through any possible exit and fled to their dorms. The Dementors moved relentlessly around the room, looking for any trace of Harry Potter. It seemed the victim had fled in any case. They drifted silently from the building and the shaken students returned to the ball.

******

Hermione and Draco meandered in silence up to her room. She juggled her evening bag, Draco's cloak and keys. She got the door open and barely had time to turn on the light when she felt Draco's mouth upon hers once more. She kicked the door shut roughly. They fell onto the bed, locked in an embrace. A piece of parchment fluttered to the floor, but neither Hermione nor Draco noticed it. Hermione raked her hands through Draco's fine hair and took off his cloak he had given her to wear. Draco pushed the straps down of her dress and planted a necklace of butterfly kisses around her collarbone. He carried on further, intoxicated by the sheer thrill. He pushed up the skirt of her dress and stroked the inside of her leg softly. Hermione moaned, ever so softly. Draco pushed himself against her hard. Hermione ground against him, wanting to feel more. A slight thrill passed through her body as Draco moved his hand up her thigh. Her hands splayed across his back, now moved to his trousers, pulling at the belt buckle with nervous urgency. He looked at her face, her eyes shining in the moonlight, her hair dark hair spilling out over the pillow. He searched in her eyes, looking for regret, anger, sadness. He found none of these.

******

Abrielle sat on Ron's bed, whilst Ron brought her a bottle of Butterbeer from his trunk. She noted the small picture of his family, all smiling and waving madly in a frame, almost obscured to view by the piles of course books and piles of papers. The family looked......happy. There was no other way to describe it. They stood in front of a humble, ramshackle old cottage. Abrielle's heart clenched when she looked at the picture, remembering that she had never experienced this kind of happiness with her family. Sure, she was rich, she could afford Ron's whole house with all the possessions in it, but she wasn't happy. She chewed her bottom lip and accepted a bottle of Butterbeer from Ron. He lay down on his bed and put his hands behind his head. He smiled up at her.

"Zis is your family, non?" she asked, indicating the photograph.

Ron's cheeks reddened and nodded. "This woman is my mum, and this man is my dad. This is Charlie, my eldest brother. He works with dragons. This is Percy, he works in the Ministry. These are my twin brothers Fred and George. And this....." he struggled to keep his voice from cracking, "this is Ginny, my younger sister."

"And, zees are your friends, ne c'est pas?" she enquired, looking at a battered picture of Ron, Hermione and Harry in their last year at Hogwarts.

"Yes. Harry and Hermione."

"'Arry?" Abrielle bent closer to examine the photograph. "'Arry Potter?"

"Yes, the very same," remarked Ron drily.

"'E is a very 'andsome boy now," she said.

Ron could not help feeling they had strayed from the point slightly. He had brought her to his room, he thought she liked him, but all she seemed to want to talk about was Harry. Ron felt the old insecurity from Hogwarts, the feeling of being Harry's sidekick, living in his shadow. He plucked up the courage and tapped Abrielle on the shoulder. She turned and looked at him expectantly. He planted a soft kiss on her lips. She did not resist. He pulled away and this time it was Abrielle's turn to go red.

"Ron, what are you doing?" she squealed.

"Sorry," he muttered, bending down and hiding his face.

"If you were attracted to me, you should 'ave just said so," she said, with laughter in her voice.

Ron looked up and stared. Brown eyes looked straight into green eyes. He moved forward and kissed her once more. She wound her arms around his neck and then into his hair. He felt her heart beat pick up and brushed her hair away from her face.

******

Hermione's hands strayed down to the waistband of Draco's trousers and deftly unbuttoned them. Her fingers found the zip and pulled it down. She aided Draco to wriggle out of his trousers and tossed them to the floor. In the moonlight she caught a smile, a real one, on Draco's face. She reached behind her and unzipped her dress. Draco pulled this down, over her legs and tossed it somewhere into Hermione's room. Hermione pulled the blanket over them both, and moving forward, brazenly kissed Draco on the mouth, her tongue insistently probing his mouth, flicking and caressing his tongue. The anticipation was bittersweet. She yanked his boxers off and moved her hands over his lean, toned chest. She felt him against her and they moved together, joined in unity.

******

*tap tap tap*

Ron heard the sound from the back of his mind, but was surrounded by Abrielle, so chose to ignore it.

*knock knock knock*

Ron ignored it once more, although Abrielle looked up. He heard the banging once more and this time it was accompanied by muffled shouts. He sighed and got up. Abrielle looked a bit knowingly pissed off. He opened the curtains and peered out into the swirling fog. Harry popped up, suddenly into view. Ron screamed "Argh!", lost his balance and went toppling into Abrielle's lap. He got up, scratching his head and opened the window. He stepped back, and did a mock bow, allowing Harry to come in. Harry looked frantic. Abrielle was the first to speak.

"'Arry Potter?" she asked, in awe.

Harry ignored her and spoke to Ron. "Ron, we have to leave. I have Dementors on my tail. I got a letter from the person who kidnapped Ginny." Harry handed Ron the letter in silence. Ron read it, his face paling.

"They might hurt Ginny!" he cried.

"That's not all," Harry added, his green eyes flashing. "They sent me a lock of her hair as an incentive. We have to find her."

Ron looked thoughtful. "She was last seen in Hogsmeade, I suggest we go there." He grabbed his broomstick and then hesitated. "I'm sorry, Abrielle, I have to go."

Abrielle just stared in wonderment. "'Arry Potter," she repeated, more to herself than anyone else.

"Right," said Ron awkwardly. "Let yourself out."

He and Harry walked to the window, Ron casting one last glance at Abrielle. They clambered out the window and pushed off from the window sill. They flew into the night sky against a backdrop of a multitude of stars.