Kissing Lessons

Kissing Lessons

Gilderoy was quite satisfied with his progress. As a fourth year student, he was now old enough to be permitted to attend the Yule Ball. The students of his year had hardly talked of anything else for two solid weeks. There was much discussion of who was going with whom and colors of robes and what the entertainment might be. It was all too exciting, really, and Gilderoy had been as involved as any of the others.

On the last Hogsmeade weekend, he'd made a special trip to the custom robes shop and selected what he was sure was the most handsome set of robes in the place. They were a stunning turquoise with a thin silver thread woven throughout. Without a doubt, they brought out the sparkle of his eyes most engagingly. They had been delivered just the previous week and Gilderoy had finally managed to get the dorm to himself for a bit to try them on.

Standing proudly before the mirror, he had to admit they were even nicer than he remembered. The sheen of the fabric went well with his hair and the cut of the collar only accentuated the fine way in which his profile was developing. Yes, his mother hadn't been exaggerating over the summer when she'd pointed out his fine chin to his father. Father hadn't really seemed interested, Gilderoy reflected huffily, but it was true just the same. Mother was very attentive to such things and had a very discerning eye. With her to guide him, Gilderoy need never worry about not knowing how to appear to advantage.

The excellent cut of the robes was only a part of his state of satisfaction. That very morning had been worthwhile, indeed. He had invited Gladys Gudgeon, a pretty Hufflepuff fourth year to attend the ball with him and she seemed suitably flattered to receive such attention. It seemed the approaching ball was going to be a pleasant evening. Gladys wasn't nearly as clever or as interesting as himself, of course, but she was quite nice looking and always appreciated his wit, so it was alright. He'd look well dancing with her on the crowded floor of the Great Hall. Gilderoy smiled as he imagined the picture they'd make.

His pleasant musings were harshly interrupted, however, by the return of his dorm mates from an obviously raucous snowball fight in the courtyard. Still stamping snow from their shoes, four boys crowded into the room, laughing uproariously.

"Roy, you should have come! It was brilliant! We actually got Filch's cat! Completely covered her in slush balls! Mrs. Norris! Can you believe it?"

Gilderoy listened with interest as he carefully removed his formal robes and hung them in his wardrobe. It really was something to boast about if you could attack Mrs. Norris and walk away from it without detention. A sudden image of himself throwing the snowballs that vanquished the wretched cat popped into his head. How he wished he'd been the one to do it. Then, wouldn't his classmates be impressed? Yes, someday he'd have to show them what he could do. Why, they'd be toad green with envy once they heard of the things he would do.

With a jolt, he came back to the present when he realized they were talking about the ball again. Malcom and Paul were comparing notes regarding their dates for the evening.

"Well, Anne agreed to go with me," Malcom was saying with evident relief, "but I think she'll hex my ears off if I try anything with her." The other boys laughed. "Seriously, she's so touchy. I only tried to kiss her that one time. You'd think it was a vampire attack or something the way she acted."

"Well, maybe it's the way you kissed her," snorted Paul. "Did you kiss her like a vampire?" More laughter rang out as Malcom caught Paul neatly on the side of the head with a pillow, but Gilderoy didn't join in. He was lost in a new and troubling thought.

Kissing. He hadn't thought of that. Surely, he'd be expected to kiss his date goodnight, wouldn't he? She'd be counting on it, he was quite sure. After all, hadn't she been practically bouncing with anticipation when he'd asked her to the ball in the first place? Not that it really mattered, he supposed, but it wouldn't do to disappoint Gladys that way. How would it look to the other students? Gilderoy frowned in thought. Only two days remained before the Yule Ball. Not a lot of time to acquire the proper skills, but he would have to make do. There must not be any stories of Gilderoy giving vampire-like kisses. Gilderoy was quiet at dinner that night. The other boys noisily planned the next day's snow battle but he sat apart hatching a very different sort of plan.

The next afternoon was clear and cold and perfect for snow fights. It didn't take long for the courtyard to fill with laughing students. The dorms stood empty and quiet. Empty, that is, but for one fourth year dorm. Gilderoy, now in sole possession of his room, was ready to enact his plan.

Stepping carefully up to his full-length mirror, he regarded his reflection carefully. Referring briefly to a fashion magazine in his hand, he adjusted his stance slightly and smiled at his reflection.

"Right, what can I do for you today, deary?" Gilderoy started and took a step back.

"I just need to practice, er, something. I didn't realize you could talk," Gilderoy spluttered uncomfortably.

"Well, it hasn't ever been needed for you, has it? I'm just here to advise you, like. Now, you, your robes are always hanging straight and your hair is always combed. Not much for me to be telling you, is there?" the mirror remarked cheerfully. When Gilderoy didn't respond, the mirror spoke again. "Well, if it is practicing you need, go on then. I'll tell you what I think."

Gilderoy studied the mirror for a moment, thinking. He shrugged and, looking once more around the deserted room as if to be sure he was alone, he squared his shoulders and leaned in.

"Here, now!" The mirror exclaimed in surprise. "Whatchyoo go droolin' on me for, anyway?" Gilderoy jumped away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and looked miserable. "Oh! Wait just one minute now, deary," the mirror said in sudden understanding. "You want to practice KISSING. Well, why didn't you just say so?"

Gilderoy gaped a few times giving a very good impression of a rather pale fish. The mirror chuckled. "Right, well, I think I can help you after all. First off, you needn't be so damp about it, am I right? No one likes to be spat on, if you get my meaning." Gilderoy nodded in silent amazement, his face crimson.

"And don't open your mouth so wide to start with. A fellow ought to walk before he runs, I mean to say." Gilderoy looked blank. "Nevermind," the mirror said with another chuckle. "That'll be for another lesson. Now, step up and purse your lips. Let's have a look at your form." His embarrassment subsiding somewhat under the easy cheer of the mirror, Gilderoy stepped up and pursed his lips tight. "Oh my," the mirror murmured, tsk-ing slightly. "You'll have to relax a bit, deary. That looks right uncomfortable, that does. Your lips will be numb before we've gotten anywhere." Blushing slightly, Gilderoy relaxed his taut expression. "Better," the mirror commended. "Now, lean in a bit and give us a kiss, then."

Mindful of the earlier admonitions, Gilderoy complied with a dry little peck on the glass. "Oh no, no, no," the glass sighed. "When I said you needn't be so damp, I didn't mean you should dry up like a shrivelfig!" The mirror hummed in thought for a moment. "Right. Look at it this way, deary. You want a kiss to be something like a fine toffee. You don't want it sticky or drippy and you don't want it stale and hard. Just sweet and smooth. Now, have another go."

Gilderoy considered for a moment. Then, nodding to himself, he leaned in again, planting a firm kiss on the silver surface.

"Much better," said the mirror, obviously pleased. "That's the ticket! Silky as a hussy's knickers. That's what we're after." At Gilderoy's astonished expression, the mirror spoke hurriedly. "Oh, I am sorry, deary. I guess I forgot where I was. I haven't always been at a school..." the mirror trailed off, vaguely. Gilderoy considered asking where the mirror had been before, but decided that, on the whole, he'd rather not know. Instead, he leaned in for some further practice.

Several kisses and a half hour later, Gilderoy stood regarding his reflection again. Yes, this would be a ball to remember. He'd left no detail unattended. Of course, that was part of his charm, really, he thought complacently. Hair, smile, robes, escort... and now, he was quite confident he'd not be handing Gladys any 'vampire kisses'. Gilderoy was quite satisfied.