Tutoring A Dragon

Seventh Year First-Term Prefect Rave

Or

Steel Gray Eyes

Hermione ran up the stairs, and to her closet. Looking over her clothing, she grimaced. She didn't have anything that would be suitable at a first- term-Prefect rave.

Then, brilliance struck her. Narcissa had told her before they had left that she could floo her anytime. She grabbed a flower pot, and walked to the fireplace.

"Narcissa Black-Malfoy!" she stated. The fire turned green, a Narcissa appeared, apparently brushing her hair.

She caught sight of Hermione and smiled. "Oh, hello Hermione, dear. How are you?"

Hermione grinned at the fashion mogul that was her boyfriends' mother. "I'm fine, Mrs. Malfoy, but my clothing is in desperate need of an update." Then, she told Narcissa what was the dreadful matter.

The blonde woman smiled, and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "Hmmm....I remember the night of my first first-term-Prefect rave. It was absolutely glorious." A mischievous smile crossed her perfect features. "I snogged Peter McAlister that night. Bloody good kisser, he was." She tapped her dressing table, and moved out of sight. "I'm going to go look in my closet for something," she called. "I'll be right back if I find anything... tasteful."

As she waited for the stylish blonde to reappear, Hermione could hear music playing in the background. "What're you listening to?" she called into the fire.

"Oh, a Muggleborn friend of mine gave me this CD called 'Queen's Greatest Hits' or something like that. I believe this song is called 'We Are the Champions' or something-" Her voice cut off in a girlish squeal. "Here! I've found it!" She came back in front of the fire, and was holding a black knee- length skirt, that had gauze over it embroidered in jet beading in climbing flowers. The top was a bright pink halter that was very fifties.

Narcissa beamed at Hermione. "What do you think?" she asked, shoving the clothes through the floo.

Hermione grabbed them, and hugged them to her. "They're gorgeous!" she breathed.

A lovely tinkling laugh erupted from the other woman. "Of course they are! I designed them myself!"

Hermione's look of shock made the Veela-rivaling woman laugh again. "You design clothes?"

"Well, of course I do!" said Narcissa. "Why do you think I'm always at the runway? Did Draco trick you into thinking that I was a ditsy, empty-headed, Laris Milton wannabe?" She laughed again. "Where ever did he get that idea? Probably Lucius..." She wrinkled her nose at the name. "But, I am an up-and-coming designer. About fifty people have bought my designs already, and I have orders practically flooding in, so I'll be fine. I hope you enjoy the clothes, and don't do anything I would!" There was a snap and the fire turned regular again.

Hermione spread the clothes out on the bed. They were absolutely GORGEOUS!!! Something she would wear but wasn't that slutty. She pulled them on, and went to her jewelry box.

Opening it, she found a sliver chain that had a chunk of rose quartz hanging from it. Hermione felt that the necklace gave the outfit some class. She pulled on a pair of comfortable black sandals, and ran down her staircase.

~*~

Draco, however, had sat for five minutes thinking about what he wanted to wear. Finally, he went up to his room, and lazily opened his closet. He pulled out a green-and-silver striped polo shirt, and a pair of jeans. Pulling them on, he walked to his mirror. He ran his finger through the silvery locks and shook his head all over the place. It gave his hair a lovely tousled look.

He made sure to put a little dab hair gel in there--just to keep it that way. He rubbed it from the back forward then shook his head again.

He grinned at himself in the mirror. He would sweep her off her feet for sure!

~*~

They met downstairs and quietly made their way out of the castle.

The Prefect rave was in an extremely original place: the Shrieking Shack. As they entered the building, the music was already on. They were playing a song by Good Charlotte: Lifestyles of the Rich and the Famous.

"Only see it on TV
Read it in the magazines
Celebrities that want sympathy
All they do is piss and moan
Inside the Rolling Stone
Talking about how hard life can be

I'd like to see them spend the week
Livin' life out on the street
I don't think they would survive
But they could spend a day or two
Walking in someone else's shoes
I think they'd stumble and they'd fall
They would fall
Fall

Lifestyles of the rich and the famous
They're always complainin'
Always complainin'
If money is such a problem
Well they got mansions
Think we should rob them..."

"That's a good song!" shouted Hermione over the first chorus. "You want to dance?"

"Of course!" replied Draco. "Unless you were talking to him!" he said, pointing to the ever-so-attractive Ewan McAlpin, who was grinning at Hermione.

"Why not?" she said, and made her way over to the Ravenclaw. "D'you want to dance, Ewan?"

He bowed his head. "I'd be delighted to, shall we?" And he led her out on the floor.

Harry, who was there with Ginny, came over to Draco. "Hard luck, 'eh man?"

"She asked him," muttered Draco from between clenched teeth. "Not the other way around."

~*~

The song ended, and Hermione thanked Ewan for dancing with her.

"Anytime," he said, smiling at her. "In fact, would you like to dance later on?"

"Sure," said Hermione, "but I have to dance once with my boyfriend, you know!" A favorite of hers came on. It was 'Another One Bites The Dust,' by Queen. She ran over to Draco, who was pretending to chat up a blonde girl and dragged him out on the floor.

"Wow," said Draco. He'd seen Hermione dance, but never experienced it. When asked about it, she'd say, "Oh, it's a bit of a ballroom Beyonce," and change the subject. He didn't know who Beyonce was, but she danced flirty.

"So," Hermione said. "d'you like this song?"

"What?" said Draco, looking at her non-swinging hips. "Oh, yeah, I do."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

~*~

Three songs later, Hermione separated herself from Draco.

"I'm going to go find Ewan now," she yelled at him.

"You're going to ku-an your cow?" he yelled back, joking. She rolled her eyes again and set off, looking for the inexorably gorgeous Ewan.

She found him by the punch bowl, looking around, presumably for her. His eyes set upon her and the chocolate brown pools lit up. "I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up," he told her.

"Nevah!" Hermione said, grinning at him. "Oh, it's another Queen song!"

The next song was 'We Will We Will Rock You,' by Queen.

"I love that song!" yelled Hermione.

"Who's it by again?" asked the curly-haired brunette.

"Queen; their lead singer, Freddie Mercury, died of AIDS in the eighties the day after he announced it to the public," stated Hermione. "Very sad... He was a great singer. I think Robbie Williams sings with Queen now, or he did. I'm not quite sure."

"AIDS?" asked Ewan, running a hand through his hair.

"It's a Muggle disease. It breaks down the immune system and then you can die of basically anything. Cold, flu, pneumonia, anything... A cousin of mine died of it when I was, oh, three. Never met him, though..."

"Sorry," said Ewan, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Can I walk you back to you rooms?"

"Sure."

And they walked off, oblivious to the cold steel-gray eyes that followed them.