Dance with the One that Brought You

Chapter 10: Meetings

Harry paced back and forth in the dark cave. It was dank with moisture and chilled with the November frost on the walls. He could see his breath and tried keeping his gloved hands warm by tucking them into his jacket pockets. His godfather sat on one of the rocks, attempting to build a fire for both of them by using his wand to ignite the few pieces of wood they had gathered. He would not have much time to spend with Harry, but he knew that his teenage godson needed to talk with him. After so many desperately lonely years in Azkaban, it was a relief to be in the company of a loved one--- especially this enigmatic young wizard, who happened to be the son of his best friend.

“I’ve mucked things up royally, Sirius!” Harry continued his pacing.

“Harry, do stop your pacing and come and sit next to the fire. I can’t make heads or tails of what you’re going on about.”

“It’s Hermione,” Harry explained, still pacing. “How could I be such an idiot?”

“What’s happened with Hermione?”

Harry blushed as he ducked his head, stopped pacing, and kicked at the ground. “I kissed her, Sirius. I don’t know what got into me! One minute I'm reasoning that there was no way I’d do it, and the next I had my lips on her, eating her face off.”

He buried his hands in his face. “She’s my best friend, and I snogged her!” Harry quietly admitted. “Ron fancies her! I knew how he felt about her! And Hermione is dating The Proud Son of Durmstrang.” Sirius grinned at Harry’s obvious jealousy.

“Ah, young love.” Sirius smiled. “Harry, you really do need to come and sit down, you’re making me dizzy with all that pacing!”

Harry complied, but he refused to look his godfather in the eye. He preferred to try and remain as invisible as possible by gazing into the fire. “What if she hates me now?”

Sirius pulled out a flask of warmed butterbeer. If there was any time to initiate his godson into a discussion about the proverbial birds and the bees, now was the time. He was going to need sustenance for this discussion. He opened the flask and took a long swig from it. Smacking his lips together, he offered Harry the flask. When Harry declined Sirius shrugged and kept the flask in his hand.

“Harry, now might be a good time to tell you a bit more about the Marauders.” He then followed Harry’s gaze in to the flames, summoning the memories of years past.

“Not sure where to begin with this, or even if it’s my place to tell you. But it seems appropriate, so they’ll have to forgive me if I’m overstepping my bounds.”

Harry looked up at him, questioning with his eyes.

“You know about James, Remus and I--- and later Pettigrew.” He spat the last name out as if it were rotten meat. “Well, we were closer than any three friends had ever been. We were brilliant together! There was nothing that could stop the omnipotent, massively popular, and extremely handsome Marauders. Oh, I almost forgot to mention modest, very modest!” He chuckled at his own description and continued. “Nothing could separate us. No power could divide us.”

Sirius smiled at the fond memory and inhaled deeply. “And then along came a breathtaking beauty: Miss Lily Evans. She had more intellect, more maturity, and more magic than the three of us put together. There was no other witch that could compare to her.”

Harry smiled fondly at the description of his mother, and something in him longed to see her as Sirius could see her in his mind’s eye.

“She could have had anyone. She was the one witch that every wizard wanted. We all loved her, I suppose, even Remus, although he never acted on it. He was much more resolute in his friendship than I.“ Sirius ran a hand through his hair and continued. “I was quite full of myself back then. All the young witches stroked my ego. You see, Harry, I was quite the rogue in my day. You wouldn’t know it now, but back then, I kept the young ladies busy.”

Harry grinned, remembering the few times he had seen the trio: Padfoot, Prongs, and Moony, in Dumbledore’s Pensieve. Sirius Black was an extremely good-looking wizard, with a strong build, long thick black hair, and a winning smile dented with deep dimples.

“There was one witch, however, who didn’t accept any of my advances. No matter how determined I was.” Sirius looked up at Harry, hesitating. “Yes, well, we won’t go into too much detail here. Just suffice it to say I made a fool of myself trying to win your mother’s attention. I didn’t know at the time that she had her heart set on another. Neither had your father seen fit to tell me that he was smitten by the very same witch.”

“Well, I guess we know who she picked.” Harry smiled broadly, proud of his father and pleased with the opportunity to tease his godfather.

“Sadly, she never allowed the Black charm work its magic on her. But there was a moment.” Sirius looked back into the fire. “A wonderful moment that I shall never regret or forget. It’s one of those memories that I held on to while the Dementors surrounded me, trying to suck every ounce of happiness from me. She was one of those pearls that kept me alive.” His face had hardened as he spoke of his time in Azkaban. He went silent for a few minutes before continuing.

Harry waited patiently while Sirius seemed to be replaying the memory over again in his mind.

“I kissed her." He had almost whispered it. "I put every ounce of charisma, desire, and affection I could manage into that one kiss.” His eyes were young again, sparkling with the sight they could almost see in the fire.

“It was after a dinner we'd had in Hogsmeade. Remus and James were in detention. The three of us were supposed to take Lily out to celebrate her perfect scores (again), but I was given the honor, since they had managed to get caught--- ah well, that's another story in itself." He looked as if he wanted to deviate for a moment, but he plunged forward with his story.

"I don’t know if it was the candlelight, the music, the way the entire room lit up when she laughed, or if it was her impenetrable emerald eyes. I was smitten on the spot. Me---the Sirius Black---master wizard, wealthy wonder, and Hogwarts' most sought after rogue. I melted at the very sight of her. No sooner had we left the tavern then I grabbed her---and well...”

Harry shifted his weight, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the idea that his godfather had snogged his mother! This was a revelation he wasn’t expecting!

Sirius felt nervous about relaying any further detail to his best friend’s son. “Anyway, I knew no witch had ever been impervious to the best snogger in Hogwarts! That is, until your mother came along.”

Harry laughed at Sirius’ description of his own sexual prowess and Sirius chuckled at his own expense as well. He had long ago come to terms with the true love that was shared between James and Lily. No one can compete with true love. He smiled apologetically at the teen and shrugged. “We both know the better man won.”

“History has an odd way of repeating itself, Harry. Your little Hermione reminds me of Lily. She has all the same qualities. And if I’m not mistaken, I am sure more than one wizard or two are interested in her, if they haven’t started queuing up for her already.”

Harry nodded at Sirius’ astute description of Hermione.

Sirius drank deeply from the flask. “If you want Hermione Granger, Harry, you’ll need to be prepared to win her. Witches of her caliber don’t come along every day. I’d say once every generation!” He stood and stretched, knowing their time together must end for now. “We can’t choose whom we love, Harry. It just happens. But I can tell you this much: I will never forget or regret that kiss I gave Miss Lily Evans. Although there was a part of my heart that always held out hope, at least I knew---I had done everything in my power to let her know how I felt.”

After a short pause, Sirius continued. “I could have lived my whole life wondering, Harry. If I hadn’t kissed her, I would never have known. It would have eaten away at my soul, What if it was supposed to be me?” Harry smiled at the confidence that this man had shared with him. He looked at Harry with an affectionate smile. "Thank goodness for true love, eh? Otherwise you and I would not be here today, having this conversation."

Harry nodded as his godfather stood and stretched. “Let’s put out the fire, Harry. You need to get back.” They both kicked at the dirt and smothered the short-lived fire.

“Now there is just one more thing,” Sirius said. “The least I can do is share a little of the famous Black technique with you. There may be some old roguish charm still left. I don’t like the sound of the eating-her-face-off.” He laughed at the teen as he put his arm around his shoulder. “We can’t have that now, can we? After all, you're James Potter's son!”

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

Blaise had been following Viktor Krum around for two days. He was trying to be as surreptitious as possible, but it was difficult to not appear as if he had been stalking him, just as the fan club had done! Draco needed some thing from Krum: a sample of his hair, saliva, or blood. The easiest of these would obviously also be the most preferable: his hair. There was no other way to gather the other two ingredients without being killed on the spot.

Thus began Operation Bulgaria. They attempted to pinch his comb, but his hair was cut so short that he never had any left any follicle remnants. They confiscated his used towels after he had bathed, but were almost relieved not to find any body hair on it after feeling rather perverse by searching for it. Blaise had even tried to pinch the Bulgarian’s fork after dinner one night, but the damned Seeker had eyes in the back of his head, and grabbed it up with his plate, at the last minute. Apparently he was trying to impress Granger by carrying his own plate into the kitchen so the house-elves didn’t have to clean up after him. Draco had him pegged as whipped by the Gryffindor, and his best mate tended to agree.

This morning, Blaise was in the bathroom with Viktor, combing his hair, brushing his teeth, and checking out his reflection in the mirror, waiting for Krum to finish shaving. He tried to appear as detached as possible. It didn't work.

“We have problem.” Viktor glared at Blaise.

“We do?” Blaise tried to respond with a confused look.

“You want autograph; fine. After autograph, you stop following me.”

Blaise nearly choked at the accusation. “I’m not following you!”

“Yes, you and the pale one always follow me. You the same as those girls.”

Blaise felt the blood rush to his fine Italian dark features as he tried to deny it. “No, no Krum, you’ve made a mistake! Look, I’m not sure what you think, but I’m not following you, and I don’t want your autograph.”

Blaise couldn’t help but feel a bit intimidated by the hulking Seeker. He wanted to kill Draco for not being there to help defend himself. This was all his bad idea!

Viktor sized up the young Slytherin and crossed his arms in front of his broad, muscular chest. He narrowed his eyes. “I like girls,” he said resolutely. “No boys.”

Draco Malfoy, I could Avada Kedavra your arse right now!

“I’m no fudge-packer, Krum! You’ve got it wrong! I can't speak for Draco, but I like girls too!” The younger man was indignant at the insinuation.

The muscle-bound Bulgarian stepped closer to Blaise, almost threatening him. The young Italian fervently wished his best friend were here to see him die.

Forget Avada Kedavra Draco! Let me spend hours making you suffer with the Cruciatus curse.

“You don’t want autograph. You don’t want ... “ He searched for an appropriate word, but couldn’t seem to find one. “What you want?”

I want to live! Just let me live long enough to kill Draco!

Why did he have to be the one doing the dirty work, while Draco Malfoy was off being romanced by none other than the Head Girl, the Slytherin Virgin Fairy, Melanie Payne! So what if the girl was determined to be Draco's vamp; there was a mission here to take care of!

You want Payne? I'll show you Pain!

Blaise thought quickly and grasped for an answer. “Listen Krum, I’m not sure how things are done at Durmstrang. But here in Hogwarts, the House of Slytherin is serving as your host. Therefore we have your best interests at heart. If it appears that we are overly attentive, then I apologize. We just want to make sure you feel at home during your stay.”

Viktor eyed the Italian, questioning his sincerity.

After several seconds of scrutiny he concluded. “The sons of Durmstrang are grateful to the House of Slytherin. You and the pale one should help others with this hospitality. I am fine.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Blaise said, most relieved that he was still amongst the living.

“The pale one and I thank you!”

Maybe they could have Parkinson get a saliva sample after all.