Dragon Dance, Phoenix Dance

It probably started as a wild idea, hatched somewhere in the depths of a dorm room. It might have been rooted in the minds of a certain pair of red-haired twins.

The origins didn't matter, though. The students knew, and the teachers knew, and a time was being set.

There was going to be a dance.

It would be an interesting dance. A strange dance. Nobody would be shocked if your dance partner was of the same gender. Everyone would be startled if you even touched.

It was to be a art dance.

The idea was simple: duels were dangerous. Dances were not, unless, of course, monsters were involved, and that generally didn't happen. It was a healthy way for students to compete. They would step out onto the dance floor with their partners, and they would improvise. No attack spells. No physical contact. Just improvised steps, and artistic spells, to see who was better at magic, and who was more impressive.

Some said it was a preposterous idea. But the teachers liked it. And so it was arranged.

***

It was Sunday, and everyone had been allowed to simply sleep in. Practices were canceled; breakfast was served late. The dance was to start at sunset. Some teacher had thought it poetic to have it end at the last strike of midnight: between the sun's day and the moon's day. (Students whispered to each other that Firenze had probably thought of it. He was like that.)

So the students whispered and twitched and practiced in quiet corners and forgotten classrooms.

And then the sunset came.

***

"Harry!"

"Ssh. I'm watching." Harry waved his hand at Hermione. "Wait until it's over."

Hermione made a face, nodded, and turned back to the first dance of the evening. It was, unsurprisingly, between Ginny, and a girl that she'd been squabbling with in her dorm room. The rest of Gryffindor dorm had heard plenty of the fight the past few weeks. They were both holding their own remarkably well, and were near to finishing, as each dance had a time limit of five minutes.

Since there were really no winners in the dance, just applause, both competitors came back cheerfully to sit with their friends, and Hermione got her chance to ask a question that had been bothering her all day.

"Harry, will you be dancing?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. I think I'd like just watching."

But of course, as soon as he said that, and indeed before, the strange creatures who control luck and circumstance began planning for his dance.

***

It was fifteen minutes to midnight. Nobody else particularly seemed to want to dance, and for the moment, the hall had fallen silent.

"Go on then."

Because of the general lack of noise, the voice of the blonde girl standing behind Draco was quite noticeable. Heads turned. The girl blinked, waved at the other students, and then gave Draco a gentle shove. He flashed a slightly irritated look at her and stepped onto the floor.

Professor Dumbledore looked down at him. "Well, Mr. Malfoy. Who shall your opponent be?"

"Him."

And immediately everyone in the school knew who he was.

Harry winced and stood up, rubbing the spot where Ron had jabbed him with an elbow. Dumbledore turned to him. "Mr. Potter, do you accept the challenge?"

"Yes."

"Then step onto the floor."

Harry did so.

"You may begin."

***

The two bowed stiffly to one another. A formality. Easily finished with.

They brandished their wands. Another formality. Over quickly.

Slowly at first, the blonde girl who had pushed Draco onto the dance floor began to clap a rhythm, and other students around her joined in until every student in the room was clapping, TA-ta-tataTA-ta-tataTA-ta-tataTA.

Slam.

Simultaneously, Draco and Harry each stomped a foot, flicking their wands. Long ribbons of light shot from the end of each wand - Harry's was a bloody vermilion, Draco's an icy blue. They circled, keeping very far apart, ribbon-lights waving and flickering above them.

The clapping of the students got faster.

Suddenly the blue ribbon whipped out, wrapping itself around the red, and the dance truly began.

The entire atmosphere of the room was martial, from the rhythm of the clapping to the stomping of the feet of the dancers. Draco snarled, spinning, and as he spun, the light arcing out from his wand twisted and writhed and became a dragon with cold eyes and breath like ice. Harry started, stared, and then dove forward, rolling, and as he rolled, his wand-light shuddered and shook, and became a phoenix, which screamed and fell to pecking at the dragon.

Outside the dance floor, the clapping students peered in. Everything seemed to have gone blurry, and though they could still see the two dancers and the creatures that battled above them, it was as if through a veil.

The clapping died away as the dance stretched on, past the five-minute time, and the air became seemingly thicker and thicker, until the boys could not be told apart except by color, one red-and-black, the other gold-and-blue. The blue was puzzling, though, since everyone knew that the Slytherin color should be green. And in the air the magic things wrestled, neither seeming to win.

As they neared midnight, the two figures began drawing closer and closer to one another, though there was no end in sight for the battle between their creations.

Somewhere a clock began to strike midnight. This startled most of the students, until they saw that one of the professors had conjured a great timepiece to signal the end of the dance. But the two on the floor did not stop.

Abruptly Dumbledore stood. "That is enough, boys."

They didn't hear him. He sighed and muttered something under his breath, waving his wand, and with a bang the veil that had fallen around the floor was taken away.

Harry and Draco still stomped and circled, wild-eyed, their hair disheveled, snarls on their faces. This surprised the Gryffindors, because they'd never seen Harry that angry, but it surprised the Slytherins even more, because they figured that Draco would have gone for the throat ages ago.

"Boys."

They either couldn't hear him, or chose not to.

"Finite incantatem!"

All the magic stopped.

Someone began to clap. It was the blonde girl again. "Three cheers for the Slytherin Dragon!"

The applause spread, until the Gryffindors felt obliged to respond with their own cheer. "Long life to the Gryffindor Phoenix!"

The teachers nodded, some of them letting out strained laughter, until Dumbledore gave a genuine smile. "I see that this has been a fruitful competition. Good-night, everyone. Classes will be delayed by half an hour tomorrow, to let you all get a bit more sleep."