Dance with the One that Brought You

Chapter 7: The Mark

“WANKER!” he spat as he grabbed the blond by his robes and shoved him against the stone wall.

“You never learn, Malfoy,” he continued. “Being the rodent that you are, you just can’t give it a rest, can you?”

“Let go of me, Potter,” he seethed, “before I hex you into a new century.”

“What’s a matter Malfoy?” Harry leaned into Draco’s face; his own countenance was flushed with anger. “Were you not loved enough as a child? Didn’t that Death Eater daddy of yours give you enough while you were growing up?”

Draco had thrown out one arm to push Harry off of him while frantically searching with his other for his wand. He couldn’t find the opening of his pocket in time. Harry had already withdrawn his own wand and brought it under Draco’s chin, forcing Draco’s face upward.

“You listen to me, and listen to me good,” Harry threatened. “You will leave Hermione ALONE. Understand? Don’t go near her, don’t bother her, don’t even LOOK at her.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry, continuing his blind search for the pocket that held his wand. He must be leaning against it, he realized, as he felt the sharp object impressed on his back.

“I’m doing you a favor, Potter!” Draco smirked and looked at the stack of Daily Prophets he had purchased, now laying strewn across the Slytherin table in the Great Hall. “It’s just like the Skeeter woman says, she’s a ...”

“DON’T YOU DARE!” The wand now bruised Draco’s neck, causing him to swallow deeply, trying to twist and turn from Harry’s grasp.

“I’ll have you expelled for this, Potter!” the blond promised. “Get your filthy hands off me!”

Harry was on the edge. His hands shook with rage. He no longer needed a reason to withhold it. He had just found out the evening before that the first task would be battling a dragon. He had been upset all night, barely able to sleep. He had somehow managed to get up early, heading down to breakfast before everyone else, hoping to ponder on his own and figure a way out of the tournament. But when he had entered the Great Hall, he'd been cockily greeted by Draco Malfoy with his stack of Daily Prophets. Malfoy had taken great pleasure in reading the article out loud to Harry, and it only took Harry seconds to storm across the room without Draco taking notice as he read.

“Like I care about being expelled!” Harry countered. “It would be worth it, Malfoy! And you’d be saving me from the tournament at the same time--- two birds with one stone! I think that’s a bargain worth hexing you over and over again!”

Draco struggled against Harry, attempting to push his weight off, and then brought his heel down on Harry’s foot.

Harry yelled in agony as he released Draco, allowing the blond to urgently rummage through his robe and withdraw the wand he had so feverishly sought.

Each wand threatened. Their eyes were locked, arms extended, chests expanding in and out with labored breath.

Draco was the first to speak. “She’s shagging Krum, Potter. It appears the only qualifications she requires in a wizard is that he’s famous and a Seeker.”

“Shut it, Malfoy!” Harry tottered on the edge of reason. “They’re lies! They're rumors that get spread by the feeble minded people like you!”

The dawning of a realization splashed over Draco, and he realized the best way to hurt Harry Potter would not be by casting a hex.

“Then why don’t you ask her yourself.” Malfoy lowered his wand. He knew the most important thing to the boy wonder was his precious golden princess. His precious golden slag.

“Ask her what she does for all those hours she spends in the library,” Malfoy said arrogantly. “Believe me, it’s got nothing to do with reading! Unless of course they are using the Restricted Section to act out the wizarding version of the Kama Sutra!” He straightened his robes and walked to the table, gathering his newspapers.

“You’re a right poofter, Malfoy! You're aren't man enough to fight against anyone except girls. That’s why you can’t leave Hermione alone.”

Malfoy spun around to face Harry, nearly raising his wand again, but seeing a movement from his peripheral vision, he smirked and decided against it. “I saw her, Potter...it’s not like they’re discreet or anything... she was practically climbing on top of Krum, shagging him right there in the library for everyone to see!”

“SILENCIO!” Harry yelled as the spell went flying from his wand and whipped over Draco with a force that caused him to take a few steps backwards.

“POTTER!”

Professor Moody dragged his prosthetic leg as he headed directly toward Harry.

“Potter, put down the wand now!” His all-seeing eye spun around in it’s socket. “In about five seconds we will be joined by an audience of professors and students and I’m sure you don’t want to be caught hexing another student --- do you?”

Draco began yelling although no sound came from his lips. He grabbed at his vocal chords.

Moody pulled at Harry’s shoulder and began dragging him from Draco’s presence. “We’ve much more important things to discuss now, haven’t we?”

He pushed Harry forward toward the entrance, as he pointed his own wand behind his back and muttered a counter spell at Draco.

“You’ll pay for that!” Draco spat. “You just wait...”

Moody spun around to face Draco and the boy paled. The memory of being transformed into a ferret by this mad ex-Auror froze him into place.

“Just as I thought,” muttered Moody. “Good day, Mr. Malfoy!”

---0----0---0---0

Harry’s hair was slicked with sweat and sticking to his forehead. He panted heavily, trying to recover his breath. He was on his haunches and dropped his hands to the ground in front of him, trying to hold up his weight.

“Just hang on,” he panted.

“Harry,” she coaxed.

Their various articles of clothing were scattered on the ground around them --- shoes, cardigan, robes, and ties.

“No,” he said, sapped of energy, “just give me a moment.”

“Harry, maybe we should stop here.”

He looked down at her face and saw that she was in the same state as he was, perspiring, out of breath, and unfulfilled. Her hair was spread out over the grass, and she didn’t care that it had gotten tangled. Her arms lay motionless at her sides and she closed her eyes, her long lashes locked in thought.

“Hermione,” he pleaded. “Let’s try it one more time. Just once... I promise.”

“Harry, you lay down, this time.” She patted the ground next to her. He closed his eyes and knew she would not give up until she was satisfied. “I’ll do all the work.”

Harry rolled down onto the ground next to her, his large, emerald eyes smiled at her determination. He was a such lucky wizard! She was teaching him something no one else had.

They both waited a few minutes for their breathing to subside, when she reached her hand up slightly, gently clasping Harry’s. “Ready?” she inquired softly.

He nodded, looking up into the clear blue sky, and he waited. She released his hand.

“Accio!” she commanded as she raised her wand. A shoe came flying up to her free hand and she caught it, while still laying with her back flat on the ground.

“See, Harry,” she explained, “you just really need to concentrate! Just picture the shoe and focus on it in your mind. Envision it flying to you. You can do this, Harry! I know you can! You must!”

Harry nodded in agreement. She was relentless, never giving up in him, forever loyal. That’s one of the reasons he loved her. She would never betray him. She hadn't lost faith in him the way that Ron had.

Ron. That was a joke. His best mate for four years now, and he still wasn’t talking to him. All because Ron refused to believe he hadn’t put his own name in the Goblet. He felt empty not having Ron by his side, but Hermione was there. She hadn’t left him.

Hermione wasn’t like Ron. She never doubted him. She would always be at his side, no matter what.

He would do this. He would do it not only because his life depended on learning how to summon his Firebolt, but because Hermione believed in him, and was counting on him. He took in a deep breath and exhaled.

They had been at this for almost two hours, but he still couldn’t command objects to ascend to him. The closest they got were several feet away and then they would falter and drop.

“Ok, Hermione,” he affirmed, “go and place it down by the rocks on the path there.”

Hermione looked at the distance, nearly 100 yards away, scrutinizing his ability. “Are you sure, Harry?”

He raised himself up on his elbows, pointed with his wand to the rocks as if commanding her to do it.

She complied, picking up the shoe and running it over to the rocks. She ran back to him, knelt down, and nodded. She was nearly spent.

Harry laid back down, focusing... envisioning...shoe to his hand... shoe to his hand...

“ACCIO SHOE!”

A shoe came flying across the field, and firmly landed itself right into Harry’s hand.

“YOU DID IT!” she screamed triumphantly.

“I knew you could!” She tackled him, barely giving him time to move the shoe from in between them.

“Oomph!” Harry sputtered as she knocked the wind from his lungs. “Hermione, you’re smushing me!”

“Harry you did it! You did it!” She was overcome with pride at his accomplishment. Without realizing what she was doing, she leaned in and kissed him directly on the mouth. It was a quick kiss and over before he knew it; she rested her head on his shoulder and embraced him while he lay beneath her.

“Mione,” Harry whispered incredulously.

She gave him a squeeze, bringing them closer together. Harry was abundantly aware of how close they now were. He felt her pressed against him. He wanted to raise his hands to his lips, because he felt her lips still there. But she seemed oblivious to the warmth that was growing between them, or so it seemed to Harry.

He reached up and stroked her hair, closing his eyes. Maybe if they could just stay like this, and he would never have to let her go, he would survive. Maybe if Hermione would always be this close to him, he could face the three impossible tasks, as well as the future that the nightmares foretold.

But he had to know. It nagged at him. Was there any truth at all to what Malfoy had said earlier?

“Mione,” Harry murmured, lifting her face to his, and searching her eyes intently. “You know I could never do this without you, don’t you?”

She blushed at his praise and smiled in acknowledgment.

“Harry, you’ll be fine. You’re a very powerful wizard. The most powerful of our age.”

Her confidence in him had never waned. Why should he be the one then to doubt her? Still, there was a nagging feeling that wouldn’t let him rest easy.

Even though he wanted their physical closeness to continue, he had felt himself hardening at the feeling of her softness pressed against him. He felt ashamed that he would betray their friendship by reacting to her this way.

He carefully lifted her off him, and sitting up, he faced her. He held his hands out to her, and together they pulled each other up.

As they gathered their pieces of clothing that had been strewn around from failed attempts at using the spell, Harry knew what he must do.

“Mione,” he asked nervously, "err, about the Yule Ball.”

She was placing the tie back around her neck when he walked up to her to assist.

He raised up her collar and reached to close a button that had come undone in the fray of her lessons.

That’s when he saw it. Time stood still.

“What about the Ball, Harry?”

He blinked. His mouth felt dry. He couldn’t stop staring. His hands had frozen in the process of gently pulling her collar to the side.

She didn’t understand the look on his face. It was first one of bewilderment, then something else flashed in its stead. His face hardened, as if he had put a mask of stone on.

Green eyes flashed up to meet her amber ones.

“Harry?”

He released her collar, looked quickly around for his book bag, and turned to leave without speaking a word to her.

“Harry!” she called after him.

“Harry, what’s wrong? Where are you going? “

He stopped in his tracks, breathing deeply, waiting for her to catch up to him. When she came to his side he looked at her accusingly.

“Are you going with Viktor Krum?” It was an accusation more than a question.

She froze in place; her startled look gave her away.

“What?” She searched for words. “Who told you that? Did Viktor tell you that?”

“Then it’s true!”

“Yes, well,” she said hesitantly, “he did ask me a week ago... and no one else had asked...”

“So you said yes,” he confirmed.

“Yes, Harry. I said yes.”

Harry wanted to explode. He didn’t know why, but he felt betrayed. So much for her being by his side forever! So much for her being loyal.

He stomped off with Hermione trailing behind him.

“Harry,” she started.

“Does Ron know?”

“What has this got to do with Ron?”

Could she be so dimwitted? She was the one who was supposed to be clever! What does this have to do with Ron indeed! The impact of betrayal burned within him. First Ron, then Hermione, and neither of them understood anything!

“I told you how Ron felt about you Hermione. You knew!”

Hermione stopped trying to keep up with him. What the bloody hell was wrong with Harry?

“Harry, are you bi-polar or what? Because one minute we are best mates and the next you're jumping down my throat!"

"Oh that's just too ironic, Hermione! I'm the one at your throat?"

"Well, what are you going on about then? What does this have to do with Ron?” she asked. “Ron wasn’t the one who told me; it was you! He hasn’t said a thing to me. Nothing! If he'd wanted to go to the ball with me, he should have plucked up the courage and asked me himself!”

She felt furious. Why was Harry taking Ron’s side on this, treating her so poorly after they just worked together for hours on the summoning spell? She would never understand boys. And they said girls were the ones with mood swings!

Next time he wanted to see a shoe fly, she'd throw one at him!

Harry continued to stomp off ahead of her, not caring that she didn’t follow. He felt she had violated a trust, violated their bond. Unbeckoned, the image burned in his mind. All he could seem to see at the moment was a deep purple mark on her lower neck. It couldn’t have surprised or hurt him more than if he had been looking at a Death Eater mark on her arm. They were both marks of traitors.