Tutoring A Dragon

Soufflés, Dresses, And... Old Feelings?

But they really didn't want to know.

The girls had made a chart. It had their names down one side, and guys name's across the top. Little check marks were made where the guy had asked the girl to go with him to the dance.

So far, Lavender & Justin, Hermione & Ewan, Susan & (maybe) Jon, Pansy & Ernie, and, get this, Neville & Parvati!

"I can't believe," giggled Lavender, "that you asked Neville Longbottom!"

Parvati blushed. Apparently, after the Fourth-Year fiasco with Harry, she'd developed a crush on Neville. And so, the serial dating had been a way to catch his attention.

But, after three years, she finally had taken Hermione's advice about him.

**Flashback to the Previous Day**

"Um, hey Neville," said Parvati. They'd had to stay behind in Potions to clean something up.

"Yeah," said Neville, not turning around.

"Could you come here for a minute?"

"Sure."

He got to where he was a foot away from her, and she grabbed the front of his cloak, pulled him close, and kissed the living daylights out of him.

"Oh, my," he said, and leaned against the table next to them. "Oh. My."

"So, Neville," asked Parvati, whistling, "D'you want to go to the dance with me?"

"Sure," said a dazed and confused Neville, wiping the table absently.

**End Flashback**

"Well, I'm not sure if I'll be able to handle Neville," said Parvati, totally serious.

Lavender and Hermione gaped at her.

"I'm serious! I think Neville might be too much of a man for me!" protested Parvati.

Hermione snorted. "Parvati, my love, the day that Neville becomes too much of a man for you is the day that You-Know-Who and I have a commitment ceremony."

Lavender giggled. "Hermione's right, dear. I think you're too much of a woman for Neville, if you know what I mean."

~*~

Life in Ernie's rooms went back to normal. Why? Because Neville's soufflé was done!

He'd served it with ice cream and powdered sugar, a thin slice of strawberry and a sprig of peppermint for garnish. The guys were eating it with gusto.

"Oh, man, Neville," said Ron, "this is delicious! You're the dom biggety!"

"That is 'bomb diggety,' Ron," corrected Harry. "But you are Neville!"

"You should have been the one to plan the food for the ball, Neville!" shouted Ernie.

"Well," said Neville, blushing a bit, "thanks. This was my first soufflé that didn't fall. Maybe I did something different..."

Then, suddenly, there was a bang on the door.

"All right, open up," said the unmistakable voice of Severus Snape.

Draco went to the portrait hole, crawled through, and pushed it open, quickly retreating as someone came in behind him.

"Who's been cooking?" asked Snape. "Because whoever it is, is going to get a chance at Advanced Potions." He looked around. "Who?" he said in his most menacing tone.

Neville raised his hand, and gulped. "Me, sir; it's me."

"You?" sputtered Snape. "This cannot be true. Cooking, as most people know, is closely akin to Potions, and you, as everyone knows, cannot make a potion of your life depended on it. So, who is it really?"

"It's Neville, sir," said Draco. "He really can cook. The House-Elves were only just here to take away about a ton of mashed potatoes-"

"We would have eaten them," yelled Dean Thomas, "but they wouldn't let us. So, Neville moved on to soufflés."

At this surprising news, Snape fainted dead away. Normally, his sweeping robes would cover his shoes, but the fainting uncovered them. He must've forgotten, in all the wondrous smells, to put his shoes back on, because he was wearing ducky slippers.

The boys giggled.

"Ducky slippers?" asked Seamus Finnegan.

"Let's drag him off," suggested Draco. "When he wakes up, he'll just go back to his rooms, and won't come back."

"Ok," responded Seamus.

And the dragged Snape out of Ernie's rooms and out into a corridor that was two staircases, three corridors, and a classroom away.

Then they ran back to Ernie's rooms at top speed.

"Well," said Draco, dusting his hands off, "if he wakes up and remembers what happened, we should get out of Dodge now, or we're dead meat."

Seamus slapped his forehead. "Ugh. Why is it you always forget when you need it? We're wizards! We could've done a short-term memory charm on him. He wouldn't be the wiser, and we wouldn't have to move to Saudi Arabia or somewhere like that."

"Are they that bad in Saudi Arabia?" asked Harry.

Ron grimaced. "If the government finds out what you are, they chop your head off in public."

Harry blanched. "So, moving on; Neville, have you got a date for the dance?"

Neville reddened, and cleared his throat loudly. "So, Ron, how 'bout those Cannons?"

"No," said Ron, grinning. "No weaseling out of this one, Neville. Who is it? Eloise Midgen? Or some other nondescript Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw?"

"ParvatiPatil," said Neville so fast, it came out as "paverpail."

"Paverpail?" asked Jon, finishing his carving. "Who's that?"

Neville turned even redder, if that was possible. "Parvati Patil," he said, loudly. "She asked me yesterday after Potions. I, er, said yes. She can be very, erm, forceful."

"No bleeding' way," breathed Dean Thomas. "She'd.... Whoa...."

"Yeah, I know," said Neville. "Apparently she really liked me, or something. I dunno why, though."

~*~

"So, Parvati, where're your robes?" asked Lavender, fingering the soft, white crushed velvet dress she was going to wear to the ball.

"I'll get them," said Parvati, grinning. She went over to a dress bag, and pulled out a pair of plum satin robes.

"Whoa," said Hermione. "If you don't make Neville into pudding, my name's Rita Skeeter."

Parvati grinned. "You should see Padma's. They look almost the same, but her's are emerald green to match," here she put on a high, squeaky voice, "Ronniekinn's hair. I mean, I love maroon, but it makes dear Ronnie look awful!"

"I do not sound like that," said an amused Padma Patil, leaning in the doorway.

"Yes you do!" yelled Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati.

"Okay," admitted Padma, "maybe a little." She came and sat on a pillow. "So, what're you doing?"

"Just showing our dress robes off," said Lavender. "Though I don't know how Hermione could go with Ewan, since their robes won't match at all..."

Padma's eyebrow went up. "And why would that be?"

Hermione sighed. "Because I bought my robes with Draco, and they were supposed to match, but Ewan has black robes, so we'll probably match. Maybe."

"So, Padma," asked Parvati, eyes twinkling, "did you hear who Draco's going with?"

Padma smiled smugly. "Actually, I did," she said, not uttering another word.

"Spill," said Lavender, eyes alight.

"C'mon, spill," reiterated Parvati.

"Ok," said Padma, dramatic. She leaned in close. "I hear from Ron who got it from, well, Draco, that Draco's going with that slut Pug-Face Parkinson." She paused, for drama. "You know, his ex-girlfriend! The one he broke up with when he got to know you, Hermione," said Padma, smiling.

"What, me?" asked Hermione. "I didn't know he'd broken up with her...for me. I heard he'd already broken up with her before then."

"Well," said Parvati, "they had. But, he got back together with her for a bit until you showed interest in him. I hear that he went back to her when you turned him down the other day. And she welcomed him back. With arms wide open."

"Stop, stop, stop!" said Hermione, putting her hands over her ears. "I don't want to hear it!"

Lavender, Parvati, and Padma smiled at each other.