Those Magic Changes

"Mate, why didn't you tell me you could sing?" Ron asked him suddenly on a rather rainy Friday. The fire crackled softly in the fireplace, and warmth seeped into every thread of the seats and cushions. Harry stilled mid-movement at hearing Ron, his chess piece hanging in the air. It glared at him and wriggled in his grip. Harry put it down and stared at Ron.

"How... How do you know-"

"Heard you singing in the locker room shower, Harry," Ron said with a raised eyebrow. "Hermione would maul you if she knew you were keeping a voice like that from her ears. You know how she feels about that kind of thing."

Harry paled, and stared at the unfinished chess match before moving a pawn. "Ron, nobody was supposed to know."

"I don't see why you're keeping it a secret, mate." Ron shook his head, moving again. "You'd get people tripping over you to get you to sing for them. You'd never have dating drama again."

A voice carried over to the two boys. "What's this about singing?" Hermione came over to them, looking curious. Harry groaned and banged his head on the table, jostling the chess pieces and ignoring their cries of "Hey!" and "Watch what you're doing!"

Ron looked distinctly smug. "Our Harry's got a brilliant voice."

Hermione looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Why do I doubt that?"

"You should," Harry said with conviction. He lifted his head up off the desk and glared at Ron.

"I heard him in the showers a few days ago, and I couldn't believe it. Sounded like something straight out of the Wizarding Wireless."

"Ron!" Harry said, glaring fiercely at him, but Ron didn't listen.

"What's this? Harry's got a voice on him?" Seamus came over, grinning wickedly at them. "Let's hear it, then!"

"No," Harry said flatly. "Absolutely not. I am going to bed. And I hate you, Ron." He threw another scathing look at Ron before trying to get up the stairs to bed. Seamus pulled him back down.

"All right, all right. Let's up the stakes a little, shall we? Play a game of exploding snap with me. If I win, you have to go to open mic night tomorrow at the Three Broomsticks for the Hogsmeade weekend and wow everyone with that lovely voice of yours."

Harry stared at him. "And if I win?"

"I'll be yours to command for a day. You can tell me to do whatever wacky stuff you want me to do, and I'll do it." Seamus grinned wolfishly, and they were beginning to draw a crowd. Harry turned red, looking down and considering. He could seriously get Seamus back for helping to embarrass him, and for a whole slew of other things, too. But what if he lost? He shuddered. "You're not scared, are you Harry?" Seamus added softly. Harry's head snapped up and he glared.

"You're on!" he said, sitting down almost theatrically. Seamus smirked.

"S'what I thought you'd say."

-----

Harry sat at a table farthest from the mini stage set up in the Three Broomsticks, almost shaking with terror.

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder placatingly. "Harry, it's really not so bad. No one is going to laugh at you, especially not if you have as good a voice as Ron is saying."

"Hermione, this is ten times worse than anything I've faced before," Harry said, looking particularly white. "There are Slytherins in here! Malfoy, too, probably! I'm going to make a fool of myself and he's going to laugh at me, stupid git, and the rest will follow."

Hermione cuffed him on the head, glaring at him. "You'll make a fool of yourself if you keep carrying on like this. Relax! This is your chance to show Seamus up, to show him that even in losing, he can't embarrass you."

Harry moaned, putting his head down. Hermione rolled her eyes as she heard him mutter something close to "Worse than Voldemort."

"Is not and you know it. Madam Rosmerta is very interested in hearing you sing, I'll have you know."

Harry nearly cried. "Did you see the look on her face? She doubts it, like the rest of them will. I don't want to do this! I've never sung before anyone before!"

"Here's the first act," she said, putting a hand over his mouth and forcing his chin up to watch. "Notice the terribly pale face with small patches of pink on her cheeks. She's scared out of her wits, just like you. And then she opens her mouth."

It was timid at first, but grew, and Harry was surprised to find that he rather enjoyed the sound of her voice. "She's pretty good."

"See? People begin to pick up on that, and they start noticeably looking more appreciative. She picks up confidence, and she starts moving."

Harry watched as she described it, fascinated. "She's got a lot of nerve."

Hermione grinned at him. "Well, it's nerve you're going to have to scrape up in about ten minutes, Harry Potter." Harry let out another moan and tried to put his head down again. She forced his head back up. "Oh, no you don't. You are watching every person who goes up to do this until it's your turn, and then you'll find that you all follow the same pattern. You go up, are nervous, start, and it all melts away and you come down from the stage feeling better than ever."

Harry sighed. "Only you could keep me from running away from here screaming, Hermione."

"Yes, well," Hermione said darkly, glancing at the table with Ron and Seamus and the other Gryffindor boys. "I doubted Ron would be a calming influence on you right now."

A small looking woman sidled up to the table after a few moments of silence, looking shyly at Harry. Harry almost didn't notice her, until she opened her mouth to speak. "Mr. Potter, you're up next. Could you come with me?"

Harry felt a rush of panic and barely resisted the urge to cling to Hermione. "W-what? Now? Why now?"

"Well, the other lad is almost done singing, and you're scheduled next," she said, looking confused.

Hermione gave him a gentle shove in her direction. "Go on, Harry."

"Augh! Hermione! Don't let me do this!" he whispered harshly to her, looking terrified.

Hermione grinned again, this time a bit more wickedly. "You'll be fine. I'll enjoy watching you up there, and I'll enjoy being smug about this when you come back down from the rush you get from being up on stage."

The woman had to rather forcibly pull Harry to the shadowed side of the stage where she cast sound spells on him. Harry's heart hammered madly in his chest, and he took deep breaths, desperately trying to calm himself down. Note to self, he thought darkly, kill Seamus. He let out a shaky breath he'd been holding, waiting for Madam Rosmerta to announce him with pure dread.

"And now, we have a rather unusual attendee to open mic night, certainly unexpected, but certainly very welcome - Harry Potter!" Silence greeted this, until people seemed to catch on and started clapping enthusiastically. Harry couldn't find it in himself to move. Madam Rosmerta stepped down and peered at him curiously. Harry stared at her, and she smiled at him. "I just announced you, dear. Go on up." She gently ushered him onto the stage.

Harry smiled for a brief moment, a nervy smile that everyone could tell was fake. He tapped the magically enhanced microphone and spoke, trying desperately to keep his voice from cracking. "I... I'm only doing one song... I uh... lost a bet." He gave a nervous laugh, and that drew a few laughs from the audience. "Hope you like it."

"Get on with it, Potter!" a familiar voice said from another side of the room. Harry glanced over, and recognized the owner at once. Malfoy smirked at him from his table of sycophants, looking positively gleeful at the chance to embarrass him again. Anger slowly took the place of the terror rising in him. What did Malfoy know? He'd show him. He glanced at the music instruments, thinking of a song he wanted to sing. One of his favorites. He'd heard it from Aunt Petunia's radio, and had sang it at the top of his voice whenever he got bored or had to do chores. He grinned, and the enchanted instruments began to play.

People seemed to laugh a little at the gaudy sounding music, but he didn't care. He was in familiar territory again. "What's that playing on the radio? Why do I start swinging to and fro?"

There were slight gasps as the song continued, and Harry had a very hard time keeping a straight face as he sang. People stared at him with their mouths open. Even Hermione seemed stunned into silence. He couldn't keep a big smile off of his face, and he thought it was rather inappropriate considering it was supposed to be a sad song.

"Those magic changes, my heart arranges a melody that's never the same, a melody that's calling your name and begs you please come back to me..."

The reaction he got was almost enough to send him into fits of laughter. Parvati and Lavender stared at him with starry eyes as if they had never seen something so wonderful. Seamus looked absolutely gobsmacked. And Malfoy...

Malfoy looked intense. Harry's big smile faltered, but he determinedly continued, keeping his charm on for as long as he could. Why was Malfoy looking at him like that?

"I'll be waiting by the radio, you'll come back to me someday, I know."

He chanced a glance at the Slytherin table again, and saw Pansy looking at him with a strangely calculating look on her face. He looked away, his smile almost gone until he caught sight of Seamus with his mouth still open. His faint smile almost turned into a smirk.

"Oh my heart arranges, ohh those magic changes..." The music played louder, and he sang the last bit of the song, going up into a high note that he could swear caused some swoons in the audience, and stopped as the music did, grinning like an idiot. "Um. That's all. Thank you." And he quite literally ran off of the stage.

-----

His friends crowded around him just outside the Three Broomsticks, all clapping his shoulder and grinning at him.

"Damn, Harry! If I knew you could sing like that!" Seamus said.

Dean lightly punched Harry's shoulder. "I think you've worked up your fan club again. I expect this will be all over Hogwarts in a matter of hours. Golden Boy with a Golden Voice." They laughed.

"I told you," Hermione said, looking supremely smug. "I told you that you'd be fine, and did you listen to me? No. You insisted on whinging on about how everyone was going to make fun of you."

"Mate, you're going to have girls lining up for you, just you wait."

"For autographs, I suppose?" cut in a rather loud sneering voice from the side of the group. Draco Malfoy strode up to the Gryffindors, smirking at Harry in particular. "Well, Potter, I suppose you're pleased with yourself. I expect your fanclub will be grovelling at your feet like usual. Nice little publicity stunt there."

Dean restrained Ron from starting forward. Harry almost backed up, feeling stung. "Publicity stunt?" he repeated, outraged.

"Why yes, Potter, I didn't imagine you were deaf, but-"

"Draco, darling," came a rather feminine voice from behind him. Everyone stopped and stared, even Draco. "stop antagonizing the entertainment." Pansy peeked out from behind him, and unceremoniously shoved him aside, holding out a ringed hand for Harry to shake. "Hello, Potter. I'm sure we've seen each other around, but never met formally. I'm Pansy Parkinson."

Too startled to refuse, Harry reluctantly reached out, and she shook his hand, smiling in a businesslike manner. "Um... hi?"

"As I'm sure you know," Pansy continued, "there is an Inter-House Unity Party that we are... reluctantly hosting. We Slytherins make the best of things. And while we've secured most of the entertainment tonight, I'm sure your glowing voice could surely be added to the list of performers. I imagine it would be a good opportunity to let the students who weren't in the tavern hear you."

Harry stared at her. Draco elbowed her in the side, glaring at her. "Pansy, what the hell are you doing?" he hissed. "We were going to-"

Pansy placed a hand over his mouth, and Draco looked even more outraged. Several of the Gryffindors bit their lips to keep from laughing. "Shut it, Draco. Anyway, I imagine this means you will want to have your friends along to keep you company, so, of course, they are invited to attend too."

She glanced around at the group, as if waiting for a response. When none came, she let out an impatient sigh. "Well, I can't be here all day. Party preparations to be attending to. Do think about it, though, Potter." With that, she dragged a very pink looking Malfoy off to another Hogsmeade shop.

Harry stared after them, completely bemused. Hermione coughed. "Well that was the oddest thing I've ever seen," she said lightly.

"She's got him completely whipped!" Ron crowed, laughing. Harry agreed, though privately wondered what on earth posessed Pansy to invite him specifically to their house unity party.

And what were Slytherins doing hosting a house unity party, anyway?

----

Draco raged at Pansy the entire way back to the common room. "What the hell were you thinking, inviting him to the party? We were going to ignore the Gryffindors, we were just going to not tell them about the party, and then say we forgot when they complain." He glared at her.

Pansy gave a long-suffering sigh. "Look, Draco, Dumbledore roped Snape into being on his side on this, and Snape will not buy that excuse. Besides, I don't turn down opportunities."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, opportunities?"

"We have nothing to fear if we cozy up to the Gryffindors a little bit. I imagine Blaise can tick a few more on his To Shag list. The Dark Lord is dead, Potter made sure of that, and our parents are in varying states of limbo. Too busy to be caring about who we associate with." She cast an amused glance at him as patches of pink formed on his cheeks.

"Mudbloods! Half-bloods!" he spluttered, looking outraged. "What are you thinking, Pansy?"

Pansy rounded on him, and he stopped immediately. "Stop it." She hissed, glaring at him. Draco obeyed, still looking mutinous. "Now you listen here. You haven't been properly happy once since we came here this year. Sure, you've had your chances to smirk and make fun, but it's all been a fucked up kind of content, and I'm sick of it, Draco." She backed him into the common room door.

He looked a little panicked. "Pansy-"

"No, shut it and listen, Draco. I thought I could be the source of your happiness, but I obviously don't suit your preferences, but you know, neither did Blaise. Neither did Nott. And I think I know why." She opened the common room door, ushering Draco in. He sat in one of the plush green chairs in the room, glaring up at her petulantly.

"Oh, this should be rich. Why, dear Pansy?" he asked scathingly.

"You feel too strongly for someone else," she said softly, raising an eyebrow at him.

Draco groaned, putting his head in his hands. "Not this again."

"I'm serious, Draco," she said, getting defensive. "He's the first person you look for in every room. You have a bad day every time a day goes by and you haven't seen him around. And I've seen the two of you fight. It practically crackles around you. You're obsessed with him."

Draco looked insulted. "I am not!"

"Hmph!" Pansy snorted, waving away the idea dismissively. "Even Crabbe and Goyle see it. They're always asking me why you like Potter so much. Why you like to pick on him. It's pigtail pulling, Draco! All of it!"

"I hate him!" Draco raged. "Of course I'm going to pick on him!"

"You wanted to be his friend once." Pansy said, looking at him. Draco stilled, glaring at her.

"What do you know about that?"

"You were charmed by him," Pansy teased. "You thought he was something special. You wanted to be his best friend and have him hanging on your elbow, grinning at you like he grins at those friends of his."

"Shut up!" Draco threw a pillow at her, looking infuriated. Pansy caught it, sitting next to him. He turned away from her, glaring at the cushion under him.

"You liked him once. And I think the reason you're so angry now is because you wanted him to be your friend so badly, and he turned you down."

"Well, obviously he's not interested, Pansy, otherwise he'd be here with me," Draco said bitterly.

Pansy tutted. "For shame, Draco. Malfoys always get what they want. And because you're Slytherin, I have no doubt you'd find a way. I just provided an opportunity." She grinned.

Draco glared at her. "To do what, pray tell?"

"Well, you certainly want Potter in one way or another. Tomorrow night would be your chance to seduce him." She smirked.

Draco choked. "What?!"

Pansy's smirk turned to an amused grin. "What? Don't play innocent Draco, you know what I mean."

"I don't like him like that!" Draco snapped, turning scarlet.

"That would explain the hour-long shower after he beat the hell out of you after Quidditch in fifth year. Had his hands all over you and everything. Draco, you are one messed up boy." Another pillow sailed at Pansy, hitting her in the side. She laughed.

Draco grumbled, drawing his knees up to his chest. "Too damn perceptive for your own good. But assuming that I even do want him - which I don't - " he added vehemently, "he wouldn't want anything to do with me."

"And that, my friend, is why you'll have to turn on a bit of that Malfoy charm of yours."

"How do you know he's even gay?" Draco asked, sounding incredulous.

Pansy outright laughed. "Well, it's obvious, but I think he had a bit of a fling once with Finnigan before that spark burnt itself out. It was all over the Hogwarts rumor mill, Draco. I'm amazed at you. I would have thought that would have been fodder for you to make fun of him with."

"Pansy-"

She silenced him by putting a hand over his mouth. "I know, I know, you hate me, I know you too well, I am too perceptive for my own good, and I am the biggest bitch in Slytherin." She grinned at Draco, who stared at her open-mouthed. "Now go plan, my Draco. It's about time you had some real excitement outside of the war." With that, she went upstairs to the girls' dormitory.

Draco slumped in his chair, staring at the fire in the fireplace. "Maybe she's right..." he murmured.

-----

Flames gently licked the top of the fireplace, dancing in their own subtle way against the dim lighting of the common room. The faint light made Harry look like a phantom, and he watched the fireplace, almost mesmerized. His arms crossed over his chest, and his nose wrinkled in thought. The silence in the common room pressed down around him, but he didn't mind. It was actually kind of nice.

A voice behind him broke the silence. "You know, normal people sleep at this hour."

He started so badly that he nearly flew out of his seat. Hermione smirked and sat down next to him. The fire crackled softly in the background. "Do you make a habit of checking down here at obscene hours to make sure I'm in bed?" he asked, more than a little annoyed. Still, he moved over, making room for her to sit.

"No, I just happened to hear you blundering down the staircase. Honestly, Harry, you could wake the dead." She grinned. "So what ails you that you're up this late staring at the fire? It's not even that interesting."

"I'm thinking." He sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Wondering if it's a safe idea to go to that party thing I got invited to."

Hermione bit her lip, looking thoughtful. "Well, it's a house unity party, so we wouldn't be stuck in a crowd of Slytherins. There would be Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs. And I'm sure that much more people will show if you go." At this, Harry snorted.

"Probably because of that stunt I pulled in Hogsmeade."

"Don't let him get to you, Harry," Hermione said sternly. "Seamus made you do it."

Harry smiled, albeit weakly. "Yeah. Seamus wasn't able to talk in full sentences to me for hours after that." He shook his head. "But that reminds me, if I go to this, I'll have to put up with him. I'll be in the belly of the snake. I don't feel like putting up with him."

Hermione pursed her lips for a few moments, staring at the fire too. After a moment of silence, she spoke. "Honestly? I think only good can come of this. The war is over, Harry." She glanced at him, though he refused to look at her, as if looking at her would accept the truth in her words. "I don't know what Professor Snape did, but he managed to talk most of his house into claiming neutrality. Including Malfoy."

Harry snorted. "Probably trying to save his own skin."

Hermione smiled sadly. "Probably. That's a Slytherin attribute. Either way, it worked out for us. He lost that many new supporters. But that isn't the point, Harry. The point is that these people aren't your enemies anymore. That they never really were. You and Ron still demonize Slytherin house, and quite frankly, I don't know that they're deserving of all the verbal abuse you both spew."

He stared at her, incredulous. "Even after they've made fun of you and called you horrible names?" He shook his head. "Maybe you're that forgiving, but not me, Hermione."

Hermione sighed, looking resigned. "They've grown up, Harry. Maybe you refuse to see it, but I've seen it. Nobody really calls me mudblood anymore. They might not really talk to me too much, but they don't go out of their way to hurt me anymore. It's Malfoy that does it, and he only does it to you."

"I feel honored," Harry said sarcastically. "They take after him, Hermione, he's their Slytherin King. I can't help but wonder if nothing but bad things will come of going to this."

Hermione stood, looking fed up. "Honestly, you're almost as bad as Ron in this. You have a choice, Harry Potter. You've saved the world, you've done great things, but I have yet to see you find it in your heart to show one of the most important qualities, and that's forgiveness. Didn't it once occur to you that this might be their way of sending an olive branch your way? A peace offering?"

"Hermione, you've been harping on about house unity for ages now, so excuse me if I'm not so quick to trust what you say about them." Harry snapped. Hermione stilled, fury etched on her face.

"Fine," she hissed, visibly trying to keep her temper in check. "Don't go. Wallow in your grudges, and I hope they destroy you!" She shouted the last part, and turned on her heel and headed up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. Harry watched her go, open-mouthed, and wished dearly that he could take back what he said. He let out a sigh, putting his head in his hands.

"What are you shouting about?" came another shout from the stairs of the boy's dormitory. Ron limped down the stairs, tripping over the blankets still around his feet. He kicked free and came to the common room, glaring at the girl's domitory. "Hermione!"

Harry turned beet red, and tried to pull Ron back as he tried starting up the stairs. "Ron, remember what happened last time you tried to get up there..."

He ignored Harry, shouting up the stairs at the door. "Hermione! You come down here and talk to me!"

Harry forcefully dragged his friend back. "Bed time, Ron! Bed! Don't wake up the whole house, for Merlin's sake!"

"What are you two doing shouting at each other at two in the morning?" he grumped, squinting at Harry with one eye.

"Nothing, just... Having a bit of a disagreement. It'll be solved tomorrow."

Ron snorted, picking up the blankets he trailed behind him. "Hate it when she does that. Just shouts at you and leaves. Makes you feel like you've done something awful, but you don't know what, and she won't tell you." He rolled his eyes. "Girls."

Harry privately disagreed. He knew exactly what he'd done. And he knew exactly what he had to do. The trouble was, he didn't want to do it. Not one bit.

-----

"So are you coming to the party then?" Pansy asked, beaming hopefully at the Ravenclaws. They shuffled their feet on the hard floor of the corridor, looking at their feet nervously.

"Uh... Maybe..." one said, almost reluctantly.

Pansy kept the smile screwed in, in spite of her growing urge to throttle them for being indecisive. "Well, chances are, we're going to have Harry Potter doing a little live entertainment."

"If he goes, maybe," another said, taking the other two by the arms and steering them off. Pansy watched them go, eyes overbright.

Draco sidled up to her, putting a steadying hand on her arm. "You're taking this whole party thing a bit too seriously, Panse."

Pansy scoffed, turning on her heel and disappearing into the dungeons. With a sigh, Draco followed. "Honestly, Draco, I'd have thought you'd be more sensible." She stared at the list as if it had offended her deeply. "This party is the first one I've been specifically given the responsibility of hosting. The amount of people that show up reflects on me!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, so it's a girl pride thing."

She slammed her fist against the wall, causing a loud smacking sound to echo throughout the dark hallway. She turned on him, angry tears in her eyes. "Yes, Draco! It's a girl pride thing! I know it hasn't occurred to you, but some of us like holding parties, ok? Some of us, perhaps, take pride in our ability to throw a very entertaining bash."

"Well, Potter's going, right?" he said, voice taking on a more placating note. Pansy was quite scary when this angry. "If he goes, I don't see why the rest of them won't follow."

"That's just it," she said mournfully. "Blaise brought the news in. Granger and Potter had a fight last night over whether or not they'd come. Potter's not interested. At all."

Draco's lip curled downward, but he said nothing, staring ahead.

Pansy sighed, leaning against the wall. "This was supposed to be the biggest event of the year, and now it's in danger because Potter is being stubborn."

"Here's to hoping Granger knocks some sense into him," Draco said darkly. Pansy gave him a watery smile.

"I don't know, Draco. I guess they really must hate us."

"Me," he said, voice hard. "It's me they hate, and it's me they are trying to avoid."

Pansy glared at him. "Don't talk like that, Draco." She sighed, lifting herself up off the wall again and setting off for the common room. "He'll come. He's too noble hearted. He won't let Granger stay mad at him because of this."

"I still don't see why no one coming to this would be so terrible," Draco said, raising an eyebrow at her. "We'd have an all Slytherin party, and we'd still have fun."

Pansy turned to look at him, stopping in place. "Draco, we're seventh years," she said, her voice soft, but her eyes intense. "This is our last year at school. There is an entire world outside of Slytherin that I've missed because I've bought into your anti-muggle philosophies, and I'm about fed up with it. There is more to life than purity of blood, and it might have taken our parents their whole lives to learn that, I'm not going to be as slow on the uptake."

"We'll get to see them after school, won't we?" he asked, still skeptical.

"Not really, Draco. How many excuses can you come up with for going up to Harry Potter's house and knocking at his door to say 'hello'? Naga." The common room door opened at the password. "This is our last opportunity to be forced together for the rest of our lives. This is our last opportunity to make them see that we aren't Death Eaters, and our last opportunity to prove to ourselves once and for all if these people are really worth being near. That, Draco, is why this party matters to me."

Draco paused at the doorway, starting as the door slicked closed behind him. He leaned against it and ran a hand through his fine hair. "Do you think about normal things, too, Pansy? Like makeup and boys? Or are things like that always running through your head? Merlin, no wonder you're insane." He ducked as a pillow sailed his way. Successfully distracted, he was surprised to find himself in a headlock. Pansy grinned unrepentantly at him.

"Admit it, Draco, I'm right."

"Argh, Pansy, let go!"

Pansy cackled, tightening her hold. "Not until you admit that I'm right. And while you're at it, admit that I'm the most beautiful Slytherin in the school."

"Never!"

"Come on, Draco, I see you grinning." Pansy smirked at him.

He struggled against her grip, trying to wipe the grin that had been forming off of his face. "All right, all right, you're right about the rest of it, but not about the beautiful bit. You've got an ugly mug compared to me."

The wrestling match that ensued drew quite an audience.

-----

The sun set, casting orange light through the windows of Gryffindor Tower. Harry rested on one of the cushy armchairs in the common room, vaguely flipping through Quidditch Throughout the Ages, mind quite far from Quidditch.

'Tomorrow is the party...' he thought. 'And tonight's my last chance to make it up to Hermione.' He let out an audible sigh, and Ron eyed him curiously.

"You all right, mate?" he asked. He glanced at Hermione, who was on the other side of the common room, nose buried in a book about ancient runes. Neither of them had spoken to each other all day.

Harry nodded, turning his attention back to the book. Ron pulled it down and glared at him. "Don't you go getting lofty on me," he said, keeping his voice low. "What happened? It's usually me and Hermione having these rows, not you and her." His look suddenly turned suspicious. "You've gone straight, haven't you? You like her?"

Harry turned a bright shade of scarlet. "No!" he said, too loudly. Heads turned, and he sunk in his chair, making no other noise until the others went back to what they were doing. "No, I'm still, eh, as gay as ever, I guess. It's just..."

"What?" Ron asked, looking impatient. "Did Finnigan do something else? I'll pound him if he-"

"No, Ron, it's that party thing that Parkinson invited me to."

Ron stopped, looking wide-eyed. "Oh." He blinked. "I forgot about that completely. Did she start spewing house unity tripe or something?"

Harry's look darkened considerably. "Not quite to that effect, Ron, but yes."

"Well, honestly, don't do anything you don't want to. But I don't really see why not. We haven't had adventures like we had in the old days for a while. I could use a little excitement. If you go, the rest of Gryffindor is probably going to go. So it's not like Crabbe and Goyle will be able to go after you." He grinned. "Safety in numbers, and all, eh?"

Harry returned the grin, considerably reassured. "And if Malfoy tries anything-"

"Then we all band together and give him a piece of our minds," Ron finished, grin turning to a smirk. Harry laughed. Ron leaned forward, lowering his voice even more. "Honestly, mate, it's not worth a row with Hermione. Besides, think of all the pranks we could leave behind as tokens to remember us by!"

Harry laughed again, setting the book down on the table stand next to his chair. "You sound more like Fred and George every day." He turned to look at the rest of the people in the common room. "Oy, you lot! Busy tomorrow?" he asked, grinning. Hermione's head snapped up, and she stared at him, eyebrows raised.

There was a surprised murmur of dissent, and Harry grinned. "Good, cause there is a bit of an Inter-House Unity Party. Figured I'd crash it. Anyone else in?"

Appreciative laughter rang out, and people nodded at him. Hermione dropped her book completely.

Harry grinned at her, and she smiled back, a big smile that he didn't see that often. He glanced up at Ron, who was rolling his eyes at him. "Always with the theatrics," he muttered.

"So Harry," came the almost too-sweet voice of Parvati. "Who's in charge of making you look half decent for this party?"

"Yeah," said Lavender, appearing on his other side. He paled. "We can't have you representing Gryffindor house looking like that."

"No, I'm fine..."

"They don't fit, Harry! At least we can get you some nice pants that fit."

"Maybe leather!" added Lavender, grinning ear-to-ear. Ron was reduced to fits of mirth, and Hermione smirked at him.

"No! No leather!" Harry said, desperately backing away. "Honestly, I don't want to be attacked while I'm there!"

Hermione appeared behind him, shaking her head at the two girls. "I've got him covered, Lavender."

Lavender snorted. "Hermione, what do you know about fashion sense? Honestly!"

"I know plenty that my suggestions won't mortify Harry. Trust me. I can make him look half decent." She yanked him out of the two disappointed girls' grasp, and pulled him up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. He breathed a sigh of relief once they got up there. Ron followed them into the room, still laughing.

"You should have seen the look on your face when they suggested leather!" he said, clutching his sides.

Hermione quietly went through his clothes. He sighed, falling backwards on his bed. "Thanks, Hermione. You're a lifesaver."

"As much as I would have paid to see you in leather, my loyalty to my friend overrides my slight sadism," she said loftily. Harry grinned at her. She threw most of his clothing aside. "We might have to sneak to Hogsmeade and go shopping for you, unless we can borrow something."

"Seamus probably has stuff," Ron suggested.

"Yeah, but it's all ridiculous," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'd rather not look like a complete poof, thank you. It's enough to already be known as one."

Hermione sat up, grinning at him. He decided very quickly that he did not like that grin. He suddenly wished he were back in the clutches of Lavender and Parvati. He glanced at Ron, and noticed he was uneasy too. Hermione spoke, her voice distinctly sweet. "What did you have in mind, Harry?"

-----

The Slytherin Commons weren't exactly how he remembered them. Darkness obscured most of the features of the room, and shimmering lights flickered across the walls lighting up people's faces in eerie ways. Sparkles that Hermione said were produced by magic floated around the dance floor, giving everything a very surreal feel to it. Enchanted instruments up on the stage played themselves to the tune of whatever the performer was singing, and the loud music filled every corner of the room. Students mingled and danced, and what Harry had expected to be a sparsely filled room nearly brimmed with life.

"Word got out that you were coming," Hermione whispered to Harry, an ill-concealed smirk on her face. He sighed, tugging at the sleeves of his collared shirt. Black slacks and a button up white collared shirt. Hermione said it was modest but good looking, but he rather thought he looked much poncier than usual.

Pansy Parkinson appeared in front of Harry, startling him so badly that he yelped. Again, she held out a ringed hand for him to shake. "Potter!" she said, way too enthusiastically for Harry's comfort. "Glad to see you could make it. I'll let you know when a spot opens up for you to perform."

"Th-thanks..." he murmured, not really sure how to react.

"What did you expect, Harry?" Hermione asked him after she left.

"Poison, probably," Ron said, grinning.

Up on stage, a weedy looking boy that Harry recognized as Nott was singing. Harry was startled to realize that he didn't sound half bad. He moved away from the crowd and towards the table. He sat, watching the dancing around him. Hermione eyed him sternly as Ron sat down next to him. He looked at the plate in the center as it filled with bottles of butterbeer.

"Harry, you're not going to spend tonight as a wallflower, are you?" she asked, glaring at him.

Ron laughed. "Leave him alone, Hermione. The boy can't dance."

Harry glared at him. "I can, I just don't like parties that much!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at them both, and grabbed Ron by the arm. "Honestly, you both aren't going to get away with being wallflowers." And with that, she dragged the squawking Ron off to the dance floor.

Harry watched the dancers wistfully, fully realizing that he wasn't particularly good at dancing. They moved and turned and twisted and bent in ways that Harry could only dream of doing. Sure, he had a voice, but to be able to dance like that, to be able to mesmerize with only gentle curves and wicked twists...

Unfortunately for him, Seamus Finnigan noticed his wistful staring. "Aye, it's nice out there, isn't it?" he asked, sitting down and leaning over to Harry. Harry started, and looked at him, before nodding faintly. "Dancin's fun. Relatively easy too. I could show ya, if ya like. For old time's sake." He leered, and Harry scooted back in his seat.

"Um," was all he could get out.

"Actually, Finnigan, I believe that priviledge is mine," came a cool voice from above them both. Harry jumped out of his seat, and jostled his bottle of butterbeer. Seamus looked utterly gobsmacked. Draco Malfoy smirked down at both of them, leaning on the table with one arm. Harry had never seen Malfoy in anything but robes, but he looked much, much different in plain slacks and a white, rather thin shirt that looked suspiciously like silk. Harry blinked, and tried very hard to look away, having completely forgotten the subject of discussion. Seamus still looked stunned.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, tearing his eyes away and looking irritable.

"As per tradition of the House Unity parties, the host must choose the... shall I say, leader of sorts of another house for a dance." He smirked at Harry, who suddenly remembered that they had been talking about dancing. He blanched.

"Me?!" he almost shouted. "Why me?! Why not... A girl or something? Susan is nice and she's... well, mostly a leader of Hufflepuff! Or... Some other Ravenclaw!"

Draco examined his nails patiently, still giving Harry a very odd look. "No, Potter, they won't do. Besides, Pansy's a big fan of the idea, and I am loathe to let her down. Come on, Potter, dance with me."

Harry desperately looked for excuses. "But... But...! I can't dance! I'll step on your nice shoes. You wouldn't want that!"

"How nice of you to be so concerned with the state of my shoes. What? Scared, Potter?" Draco added, voice low. He smirked at Harry, knowing his challenge hit home. Harry glared at him fiercely.

"I'm not scared of you!" Harry said, getting up. Draco held his hand out, a very strange look on his face, a cross between a smirk and the intense look he had on his face when Harry was on stage in the Three Broomsticks. Harry shivered. It was almost... predatory.

"Dancing's easy, Potter. Hand here." He put Harry's hand on his shoulder, and took the other in his own hand. The music started up again, and Draco raised an eyebrow. The song was unlike anything he'd heard before, having almost the same qualities of the funny little song Harry sang at the Three Broomsticks. He rose to the challenge of the unfamiliar song, and began to move. "Follow my lead."

"I don't know what you're playing at," Harry muttered, looking darkly at the floor. Draco only smirked at him, before suddenly twirling him away, keeping a good hold on Harry's hand. Harry gasped, before he was suddenly twirled right back, snugly in Draco's arms.

"I'm the best dancer in Slytherin, Potter," Draco whispered in his ear. "People pay for this honor."

"It's nothing!" Harry said, trying to twirl Draco and failing.

Draco laughed at him, tugging his arm. "I said to follow my lead, Potter."

"Now with passion in our eyes, there's no way we could disguise it secretly. So we take each other's hand 'cause we seem to understand the urgency..." the voices from the stage rang out.

They fell into step, and Harry swore he felt Draco's hand creep down to his hip from its original place on his waist. He let out another gasp as Draco dipped him and yanked him back up. He glared. "Are you always this rough?" he asked, awfully breathless. Draco grinned.

"If you like it that way, yes. And up you get!" He lifted Harry up, and he let out a yelp.

He looked out of the corner of his eye and saw that people were beginning to part into a circle to watch them. He turned very red. "Malfoy, we're drawing an audience."

Malfoy pulled him in far closer than was publicly decent while continuing to move to the music. Their hips locked and ground, and Harry felt a good sign that Draco was enjoying this a bit too much, and it didn't help his own growing problem. Gasps erupted from the crowd. Harry was rewarded with a wicked grin worthy of Fred and George, before Draco leaned in to murmur in his ear. "Good." Harry continued to look around, seeing wide eyes staring at him as if he'd grown two heads, but the Slytherin forced his head back to face him. "Eyes on me, Potter."

"You're not exactly nice to look at," Harry said scathingly. The crowd seemed to buzz, as people whispered to each other and pointed, some looking stunned, others annoyed, and a few looking knowing. Draco whirled him around so that they were back to front, and he held Harry's arms crossed over his chest as he stepped side to side.

"You love me, Potter. I keep you on your toes," Draco said, unnecesarily close to Harry's ear, in his opinion. "Ready?"

"For wha-" His question ended in a yelp as Draco whirled around and dipped him again, this time very low, and then pulled him back up again so that their chests met, and their noses were quite close.

"That."

Harry felt sure the eyes of the entire room were on them, and he was quite unnerved at how tolerable this kind of proximity was with Malfoy as they moved to the beat. 'I have some standards, don't I?' he thought mournfully.

They danced fast now, and the song got ever louder. People actually clapped along to the music, and Harry heard cheers erupting from the Slytherins. "Not bad, Potter," Draco said, twirling him again, and then moving, hips way too close to his own.

Malfoy leaned in, and mouthed the words of the song against his ear, causing him to gasp.

"You're the one thing, I can't get enough of..."

But he convinced himself he imagined it as Malfoy twirled him again. People started milling back into the dance floor, and it suddenly got very crowded. Malfoy spun away, so that their hands were the only things keeping them together. Another couple barged through, knocking their hands apart, and Harry got pushed back, and immediately got lost in the crowd, nothing but Draco's intense eyes and his wicked smirk on his mind.

Hermione caught up with him as he tried to fight his way out of the crowd, heart hammering in his chest. "Harry! Are you all right?"

Ron stood beside her, looking an impressive shade of puce. "That bloody ferret!" he managed to choke out. "I'll kill him!"

"What was that all about?" Hermione asked, looking shaken. "You've always had two left feet! Up there, though...!"

"Did he hex you?" Ron asked, cracking his knuckles and scanning the crowd.

"No, no, I don't know, Hermione! I need some air," Harry said, voice dangerously near a whine. "Desperately. I'll be back." He pushed out of their grip and headed to the common room door, sliding it open and heading out.

-----

Harry slid down against the dank wall of the dungeons, cradling his knees in his arms and looking up, heart still beating wildly. He gathered his breath, though the moist and cold air of the dungeons did much to calm him down. "What was that..?" he murmured, staring at the ceiling.

The common room door slid open, and Harry tensed, and slowly looked up. Grey eyes stared back at him. Harry snarled.

"Are you happy now?" he rasped, voice still not entirely in working order. "Have you humiliated me enough?"

Draco scoffed, leaning on the wall next to him. "I was under the impression that I just did you a favor, Potter. I labored under the delusion that you couldn't dance. It appears you lied to me."

"I can't..." he murmured, burying his head in his drawn up knees. "I normally can't, Malfoy. I don't know what happened."

"Maybe it was me," Draco said softly, eyebrows raised, and a smirk forming on his face. "I'm magic, after all."

Harry groaned, and glared at him. "What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked, a note of pleading to his voice.

Draco stiffened, but he sat down in front of Harry, a very unreadable expression on his face. He reached out, and Harry started when he felt cool fingers brush his cheek. "I should think that would be obvious by now."

Harry stared at him. "You're supposed to hate me..." he said, with the air of one's world falling apart around him.

Draco said nothing, and stood again, turning away. Harry was almost convinced he was going to leave, but he turned, a touch of anger in his eyes that darkened them considerably. "I do," he said, his voice almost rough. "I hate you, Potter. I hate that you stole my attention. Do you have any idea how hard it was, when I was a kid, for anything to hold my attention for so long? But you got it somehow. You stole it, and held it and ran with it, and you were nothing but a scrawny little boy with huge glasses. I hate that you never, ever gave it back."

Harry stared at him, completely taken aback. "I-"

Draco cut him off, apparently not finished. "I hate that I went out of my way to try and be friends with you, and you turned me down. I hate that I still think about you in spite of it, all the time. That you still won't give my attention back." Draco turned away again, staring hard at the floor. "I hate that I can't even have one part of you for myself, that Voldemort took the only thing I could have gotten, your hate, away from me. I hate that I have nothing but your scorn, your disdain."

Harry stood, staring at Draco, completely moved. "Malfoy..."

Draco turned again, pinning him with another intense gaze. "So," he said, voice dispassionate again. "I'll say it again. Scared, Potter?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, though this time in determination. "No, Malfoy." He stepped forward and leaned in, but Draco pushed him back.

"Potter, Much as I appreciate the effort, if you are going to kiss me, it's going to be because you want to. Not because you aren't afraid to."

Harry stopped, startled. His shoulders relaxed and he stared at Draco, a calculating expression on his face. Draco met his eyes, though kept his gaze guarded. Harry looked down. "Ron is so going to kill me," he said. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late. Harry flung his arms around Draco's neck and kissed him.

A jolt went through Draco's chest, and his eyes widened. Slowly, almost as if afraid to, he put his arms around Harry and returned the kiss.

Harry tasted of the butterbeer he was drinking earlier, and his lips were irresistably soft. Draco smiled against the kiss, and slowly moved Harry so that his back was to the wall, threading his fingers through Harry's and pressing his hand up against the wall, keeping the other hand rested on his hip.

Harry's other hand gripped Draco's shoulder, and he almost unconsciously pressed into Draco, leaving little space between them. Draco squeezed his hand, and Harry's mouth opened under his, and he deepened this kiss. Harry moaned, and could swear that his toes curled. Draco grinned and pulled away to kiss his jaw, keeping Harry's hand pinned to the wall. Harry squirmed under the attention, arching and breathing erratically. Draco moved down to his neck, kissing and sucking, and leaving marks that he knew he was going to have to explain later. 'Worth it...' he thought, mind quite muddled.

They didn't leave that spot for quite a while.

-----

Pansy peeked out of the common room door, and grinned, resisting the urge to giggle. Harry and Draco were quite absorbed in each other. Hermione peeked out as well, and she turned a very bright red.

"So that was what that was all about!" she whispered, looking awestruck.

Pansy nodded knowingly. "Guess this means the crowd won't be getting their Harry Potter," she said with a smirk.

Ron's head poked out of the common room as well. "What are you looking-" He stopped, finally catching sight of the two boys. "What the hell?!" he shouted. At that, the two kissers immediately broke apart, and Harry panicked.

"Run!" he hissed, and grabbed a very surprised Draco by the arm and took off down the hallway.

"Harry!" Ron called, tripping over the two girls and trying to go after them. He looked baffled, and rather angry. "Harry, get back here!"

He turned to Hermione to appeal for help, but she and Pansy both were reduced to hysterical laughter.

Ron gave a long-suffering sigh, and turned back to the door. "All right, all right, as long as I get to keep calling him the ferret," he grumbled.

Harry didn't return to the Gryffindor Common Room until the next morning, and by then every person in the school knew why.