Dance with the One that Brought You

Chapter 9: Wands



Draco had it all planned out. Parkinson would drink the Polyjuice Potion and sneak into the Gryffindor girls' dorm. It was the perfect plan. Or at least it had been, until Pansy had turned into a jealous shrew and refused to help him. What was her problem, anyway? He had never told her that they were exclusive, so why did she get so worked up when she found him making out with another Slytherin girl? He couldn’t even remember the girl’s name now, but he grinned at the memory of how eager she had been. He could still feel her under him.

He stretched as he stood, slipped his feet into his lambskin slippers, and headed to the bathroom wearing nothing but his green silk boxers. Kissing didn’t seem to do anything for him anymore, he reflected. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the effect it had on his partners, but he just didn’t find any satisfaction from it. He needed more. He was ready to make his father proud --- the way all young Slytherins did by their fifteenth year. Draco had turned fifteen during the summer, and he knew that he would have to have shed his virginity by Christmas or his father would hire him a professional to ensure he entered into manhood. This was the way Slytherin fathers had done it for decades, if their sons lacked sufficient prowess.

Draco knew he would never need to seek the services of any professional based on the willingness and availability of the girls that appeared to flock around him ever since the closet incident with Pansy. It would appear that blokes weren’t the only ones who talked about such milestones! He should thank Pansy for her gossiping; because of her, there were girls who would brush up against him while reaching over him to get something, or run their feet up his calf while sitting across from him in the Great Hall, or even pass him notes requesting a rendezvous. Perhaps the Slytherin girls knew what was expected of their fifteen year-old male counterparts, which would explain a great deal! His life was good; everything was just spiffing.

Yet there was one small matter that had to be taken care of before he could consider it perfect. He had to pull that high and mighty Gryffindor off her bloody high horse. His plan had to work, whether Pansy helped or not. He wasn’t about to let it go now.

“Oi, looks like you were busy last night. Whose heart did you break this time?” Blaise stopped toweling his face to look at Draco.

Draco shrugged as he shuffled in. “The dark haired fifth year --- what’s-his-name’s older sister.”

“You might want to take care of the evidence, mate. Or were you intending to wear it as a badge of conquest?”

Draco eyed his reflection in the mirror and flinched. He turned his head to the right and left, leaning it sideways as he took in the purple marks that trailed all the way to his collarbone. “Feckin' hell.” He winced. “She’s a bloody vampire.”

He turned to his best friend, who was chuckling to himself. “Wipe that damn grin off your face and do the honors, mate.”

Blaise lifted his wand and whispered a few words, magicking away the hickeys.

After inspecting Blaise's handiwork, Draco leaned down and commenced his morning tooth-brushing ritual. “Wenneedanewplan.” His toothpasted mumble was impossible to understand.

Blaise combed his dark black hair into place and responded, “Spit and rinse, Draco. Don’t be so primitive!”

A few good gargles later, Draco flashed his Cheshire teeth at the mirror, inspecting its gleam. Running his tongue over them, he continued, “We need a new plan. Pansy won’t help. She turned into a green-eyed bitch since finding me with what’s-her-name last night.”

Blaise rolled his eyes and spoke to his friend’s pale reflection in the mirror. “Your timing couldn’t have been worse could it? Merlin, what now? Where are we going to find another girl to help us?” He put the comb down and turned his head from side to side, eyeing his dark, wavy hair as it set into place. “It’s just a good thing that Snape extended the deadline another week!”

“Yeah, well, that’s another thing. There's very little Wolfbane Potion in his storage room; he’s running low. So whenever we do this, it will have to be quick. We won’t have much time.”

“Pity we can’t do it ourselves.”

Draco smirked. “I wouldn’t mind being a girl for a few hours --- even if it was a Gryffindor girl. Imagine the possibilities!”

They turned to face each other and exchanged knowing looks. Their eyes sparkled with laughter, and their smiles broadened as they mutely conveyed their thoughts.

“Can you imagine having unlimited access to knockers! Merlin, hours of fondling yourself!” Blaise chuckled.

“The places I'd explore...” added Draco.

They both burst out laughing at the suggestion.

“To go where no other man has gone --- experiencing the female orgasm!” said Blaise with a laugh.

“No, no, no.” Draco slapped his mate’s back. “Multiple orgasms!”

“Wretched shame Polyjuice Potion won’t allow us to cross gender,” Blaise concluded with a sigh.

Draco nodded in agreement. “Pity.” The possibilities they had both envisioned slipped away reluctantly.

“So what’s plan B?”

“It’s not as good, but it will do,” Draco explained. “The Durmstrang boys are sharing our dorms, right?”

Blaise nodded cautiously, having an idea of where this was going.

“So we have ample access to Krum.”

Blaise raised his eyebrows at the daring of his best friend. “Are you sure you want to go that route, mate? I mean, this is Viktor Krum we’re talking about!”

“And? We just need to work out the timing! We only have enough potion for one person. Pansy isn’t going to help anymore. We don’t have anyone else who is close enough to a Gryffindor at the mo’.”

“But Krum is massive!” Blaise shuddered. "If this comes back at us, we’re dead!”

Draco eyed his reflection confidently in the mirror before slipping off his boxers and walking over to the shower stalls.

“Listen, Blaise, I already tested a bit of the potion last night, on what’s-her-name. I can tell you that it does need a bit of fine-tuning before it’s complete, but we’re very close. I’m not about to let this glitch detour me. So what if he’s massive? So what if he’s the all-powerful famous seeker. He’s still just another bloke with all the same working bits as you and me.”

Blaise disagreed, “No, mate, I’m sure his bits are much stronger and larger than yours and mine put together!”

“We just need a few minutes!” Draco argued. “Since Pansy won’t sneak in and exchange the bottles, we move on to this plan. I can make it a birthday gift, as Krum. She will never suspect a thing. And besides, this is Granger we’re talking about. I’m sure that she hasn’t even come close to Krum’s bits yet!”

“How did you work out that it’s her birthday?”

“Intellect, my dear boy --- it’s called research. Some Muggle once said, Hold your friends close but hold your enemies closer. It happens to be great advice --- even if it did come from a Muggle.”

“He’ll kill you if he finds out. He’s a bloody ape, Draco! A bloody, massive ape!”

Draco turned on the shower and stepped in, running his hair under the steamy water.

“Blaise, hasn’t anyone ever told you: It’s not the size of the wand that matters; it’s the magic it wields!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Blaise turned to exit the bathroom. “But the bloke that said that had a small wand!”

Blaise had his back turned to Draco, so he didn’t see the bottle of shampoo come flying over the stall, hitting him squarely between his shoulder blades.

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

Harry passed the first task due to his flying ability. He was quite agile on his broom, and thanks to Hermione he was able to summon it to him without a problem. Fleur and Cedric had been charred by their dragons, and Krum had accidentally crushed several of his dragon’s real eggs. Harry had the fastest, most effective method for recovering his egg. He also recovered his friendship with Ron. Harry felt happy and relieved that his friend had finally come to the realization that he would never undergo the danger of these tasks just for attention or eternal glory. But with the renewed friendship came guilt.

Ron was in a panic, pressuring Harry to quickly find a date for the Yule Ball before the only girls left were trolls. Harry knew whom he wanted to go to the ball with, but she was obviously going with someone else. He would have to set his sights elsewhere.

He couldn’t stop thinking of his other best friend. It seemed like now that Ron was at his side, he had somehow managed to muck things up with Hermione. He had avoided her since the summoning lessons. Had she not come to wish him well at the first task, he would not have sought her out. He wasn't sure how to deal with her yet.

Harry was still quite sore and bruised from the first task. He ached all over. He slowly and quietly descended down the stairs that led to the Gryffindor common room. He had not expected to see her sleeping form on the overstuffed sofa. Harry had come down to prepare for another meeting with his godfather. But there she was before him, like an angel, Harry couldn’t help being drawn closer.

He took in every contour, shadow, and curve as he silently observed her. The flames from the fireplace had died down to soft, fiery embers, and the gentle glow added to the already breathtaking sight of Hermione Granger’s sleeping form.

Fearing he would wake her, his approach was cautious. His strained muscles seemed to relax being near her. Standing over her, she looked so small, so childlike. So innocent.

He remembered the anger he'd felt when he'd seen the love bite on her neck. He reasoned that it must be because he was feeling protective of her, and possibly of Ron, too.

He knelt down by her side, reaching out his hand to her hair, wanting to lower it, to feel its texture. His hand hovered for a tad longer, and his fingers flexed with want. If only he could drag his knuckles across her cheek. If only he could watch her eyelashes part as he placed a kiss on her lips.

Who was he kidding? He wanted to snog his best friend! He felt immediate remorse trickle down from his throat into his chest; releasing a deep sigh of frustration, he balled his hand into a fist. Something inside his chest ached more than his battered body.

He leaned in and listened to her even breaths; his own breathing was short and deep. “Mione,” he barely whispered. She did not stir. “I’m sorry.” He had said it more for himself than for her. He didn’t understand why he had been so enraged at her. She hadn't deserve it.

You want her for yourself. He couldn’t quite come to terms with that thought.

She’d probably smack him if she knew he was this close to her. He smirked when he thought she would decapitate him if she knew what he was thinking. What right did he have to think about snogging her, when he had all but pushed her at Ron? He slowly brought his knees up to his chin, leaned on them, and wrapped his arms around his legs; closing off the strain he felt in his back. She hadn't even known that she had kissed him. His first kiss, and she hadn't even realized it.

It wasn’t that kind of kiss.

He eyed her lips and smiled, his emerald eyes shining with affection. Those lips had touched his just days ago. He sighed deeply, remembering that those very same lips had also snogged Viktor Krum probably within hours of kissing him!

It’s a good thing you don’t know what you do to me, Hermione Granger. He smiled, almost shyly, whispering to her soundlessly. “Because if you knew... and if you had really kissed me, more than just a friendship kiss... or if I had kissed you, that would have been it for me. I can handle anything but that.”

He was fascinated by how peacefully she slept. Her dreams were not disturbed with nightmares of Voldemort. She would never be awakened by an agonizing burning of a scar. He hoped that it would always be like this for her. He felt an overwhelming urge to protect her, to pull her into his arms and hold her close, keeping her locked next to his heart forever.

Now who’s the traitor?

He knew that Ron fancied Hermione, but he couldn’t help the way he felt. All hell would probably break loose if Ron knew. All hell would probably break loose if Hermione knew!

He struggled with this inner conflict, not wanting to ruin the best friendship he could ever wish for, yet not wanting to let Viktor Krum take her away from him, all because he was too slow-witted to do anything about it. He had already made the mistake of not asking her to the Yule Ball in time, and now he would have to find a substitute that could never replace her.

He saw the blanket she had wrapped up in had fallen over the edge onto the floor. He reached for it, intending to tuck her in. She had jeans and a t-shirt on; one arm was curled under her pillow while the other fell over the side of the sofa. She wasn’t his girlfriend, he regretfully realized, as he lightly replaced the blanket over her. He had no claim on her. He should really get his priorities straightened out: Was he willing to destroy their friendship over his own selfish feelings for her?

It was the crackling sound of the embers that broke into his reverie.

“Harry.” Sirius' voice croaked in a whisper as his head raised out of the burning remains of the fire. “Are you alone?”

“It’s just Hermione, Sirius. She’s asleep.”

“Back in thirty, Harry. We must be alone,” said Sirius, lowering his head back into the dying flames.

She began to stir as she heard voices, but she didn’t open her eyes.

“Harry?” she mumbled sleepily.

She stretched her free arm up above her head, and he watched her toes extend to the edge of the sofa. Such a luxurious stretch! It caused something in him to tighten as he watched her arch her back toward him.

“Whatcha’ doing?” She looked around her, blurry eyed. “Who were you talking to?”

He needed desperately to talk to his godfather, but he also wanted Hermione to sleep by his side for the rest of the night. He would be happy just watching her sleep.

“You fell asleep on the sofa, Mione,” he whispered to her, extending a hand to help her sit up. Her hair was a mass of tangled curls, falling across her shoulders and down her back. He could resist no longer.

Reaching down, he took a curl between his fingers and pulled on it gently, feeling of its texture. He knew if he had leaned down and buried his face in her hair, he would smell that jasmine fragrance that was hers.

“I’m a complete arse, Hermione. Can you forgive me for being so bloody useless all the time?”

He didn’t take his eyes off of her curl, liking its feel, he wrapped it around his index finger. “If I can battle a dragon, I suppose I can face my best friend and at least admit that much yeah?”

“Oh, Harry.” She leaned and tousled his hair. “What am I going to do with you?”

I can think of several things!

“For starters,” he tried to steady his voice, “you can let me make it up to you. Come with me tomorrow afternoon, That is..." ---this can't sound like a date ---" and help me gather up the Nirvae.”

She scrunched her face at him. “And this is making it up to me how?”

“Faeries.” He lowered his voice back down to a whisper.

“What!” She jumped at his revelation, her remaining sleepiness completely shattered.

“In the forest, where the Nirvae is, there are faeries there.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” She folded her legs up onto the sofa and leaned forward with anticipation.

“I wanted to surprise you for your birthday. But now I need to redeem myself, so I’m digging down deep and pulling out all the stops.”

Her mind swam around the rare opportunity to see the tiniest of magical creatures in the wizarding world. Harry was taking her to see faeries! She had read so much about them, both on the Muggle Internet, (which was all rubbish), and whatever she could place her hands on in Hogwarts' library. There were only certain areas of the world that faerie colonies existed now, and they were always guarded from the outside world.

“Harry,” she said dreamily, “will we really get to see them? I mean, aren’t there special spells of protection or something meant to keep us out?”

“A guardian,” he said solemnly.

“A guardian? What kind of guardian?”

“I’m not sure, but each colony has its own guardian of protection. We will need the invisibility cloak as well as my Firebolt.”

Her back stiffened at the mention of his broom, crashing her back to reality. She had come to the common room in the evenings to not only escape Viktor Krum’s fan club, but also to escape Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy had gone too far. He was such a wretched letch! He was evil personified. His personage, dressed in all black, came blazing into her mind. The dark clothing which made his pale features stand out even more. He was like the Angel of Death --- except scratch the 'angel' part! Obviously he had wanted to torture her her with his treatment during their last dance practice. The unmitigated gall --- holding her so close, whispering in her ear, touching her lips...

She swallowed and tried to remember what Harry had said. All she could manage was a frown as she bit at her lower lip. Harry had mistaken the gesture for one of nervousness.

“I know you don’t like flying, Hermione. But there’s no other way to that side of the lake.”

She cleared her throat and raised her chin. “Harry, do you think I’m a slag?”

“What!” he sputtered.

“I know what everyone is saying about Viktor and me. And the article in The Daily Prophet has everyone thinking that you and I...”

“Hermione,” Harry said firmly, “that’s rubbish!“ He ran his hand through his hair and fumbled for the right words. “You’re friendly. Not in a bad way. You just like to show your friends that you care about them. You’ve got a big heart, ya’ know?”

He thought back to her kissing him and knew that if he was going ever have the bollocks to speak to her about it, now was the time.

He looked up from his glasses, his cherubic smile fainting away. “There is one thing.” He paused.

She waited for him to continue.

“I mean, I know we’re best friends. I know you like Viktor.” He looked at her reaction to see if she would deny any of it, but she merely nodded. He shifted and fidgeted, not sure how to continue. Not sure if he should continue. The time was ripe, and the pain from his inner battle outweighed the caution warnings.

“I’m a big girl, Harry, spill it.”

“I would never do anything to lose you, Mione. You know that, right? You know that you’re the most important girl in my life?” His face flushed crimson as he called upon the courage that he had used to overcome the Hungarian Horntail. You can do this, you bleeding amateur!

“What is it, Harry?”

“When you kissed me a few days ago, I know you didn’t mean anything by it or anything. I mean, I know you don’t think of me in any other way than your best mate. But...“

She straightened up on the sofa. Had she kissed Harry? She quickly flipped through the pages of her memory searching for the moment. Then she remembered.

“Oh, Harry!”

“No, it’s not that I minded or anything like that... because... well... because I didn’t ... mind. I mean... I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.” He took off his glasses in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see her when he continued. “That is to say, if you want to do that again any time, I’m okay with it.”

She smiled at him, seeing his discomfort. All this time she had thought that Harry never saw her as a girl. In her mind, she was just one of the guys. But now just maybe Harry had realized she was indeed a girl.

It was then that the thought hit her. “Harry, was that your first kiss?”

He looked back at the fireplace, willing Sirius to come out and save him. He felt awful. He was nauseated and butterflies were warring in his stomach. He knew Ron fancied Hermione, and Hermione fancied Krum. Bugger this!

He inhaled deeply. Now or never mate, now or never. He turned to her, and grasped hold of her shoulders. Hermione had no idea what he was thinking! She wasn’t sure why her head was spinning or her heart was pounding. He completely ignored the adrenaline that raced through his veins, and even though some small voice inside his head was telling him what he was doing was wrong, he didn't care! He needed her at this very moment. He needed to feel what it was liked to be properly kissed, and he knew it was Hermione Granger, his best friend, that he wanted to experience this with.

“I can do better, Mione!" His green eyes seemed to grow black with intent. "It was my first kiss, but it should have been like this.”

He pulled her to him without warning or permission. Their lips came together, and Harry nearly exploded with need. She gasped inwardly at the force that pressed down on her lips. He wasn’t gentle; he was hungry. Her conscience warned her that they were doing something that friends shouldn’t do. But she liked it. She didn’t want to stop, but she knew she shouldn’t be doing this while she was dating Viktor. Harry moved one hand from her shoulder to the nape of her neck, adhering her to him, not wanting her to escape. Even with his eyes closed, he saw black spots behind his lids, and he had the same feeling he got before he fainted from being hit on the head by a Bludger.

Hermione was the first to pull away, looking at Harry’s dazed state. “Sorry!” It was all she could manage before she ran up the stairs to her bedroom. Harry collapsed on the sofa, taking over the empty space she had abandoned. He groaned loudly, wishing the damn Hungarian Horntail had done him in.

He picked up the cushion she had been holding and smacked his face several times. What. An. Idiot! Could he be any more of a greenhorn? He had done the unforgivable; he had betrayed her as a friend and taken advantage her trust. Painfully, he lowered himself next to the fireplace waiting for the return of his godfather. He desperately needed advice!