Dervish

What is that thing Mum always says? Oh, whirling dervish. I think one just swept past me up the Astronomy Tower stairwell. All right, it was clearly Pansy Parkinson, but she put me in mind of one of those dervish things. What could she be doing? The last astronomy class ended almost half an hour ago. I know 'cause I was in it. Professor Sinistra made me stay to re-work my constellation diagrams as Neville accidentally splattered ink all over them. For some reason it didn't seem like Pansy was on her way to rework a constellation diagram and it was far too early for the other possibility (unofficial snogging hours don't start until 3 a.m., after Filch finally gets tired and goes to bed). Let's see . . . a Slytherin is doing something secretish alone in the Astronomy Tower after classes have ended. I reckon I suspect foul play, I do. Guess I better have a look.

She is not in any of the lower classrooms, nor is she in one of the observatory rooms. Hmm . . . now, where could she have gotten to? I am just about to go back down to recheck all the rooms when I hear a scrabbling sort of noise on the roof. There, it happened again. Pansy's on the roof? I lean out as far as I can through the nearest window and I can just make out the top of her head. She is standing in the middle of the slanted tower roof. What the devil could she be doing?

I work up my nerve and climb onto the narrow window sill. Using a gargoyle as a hand hold I clumsily pull myself onto the roof. Now I am lying face down with my feet just at the very edge. When I roll over and look up, Pansy has her wand trained on me.

"Keep away from me Weasley." She spits my name out like it was a vomit flavored bean. Her back is to the full moon so her features are in shadow.

"No, worries there, I'm a bit afraid of heights. I wouldn't want to get into a shoving match up here." I look up and over my shoulder to where she had been standing; hoping to see some incriminating aid for dark magic but, there is nothing over there. "So, d'you come here often?" I say with my best disarming smile.

"What are you doing here, Weasley? Classes are over." She is still tasting bile in her words.

"Looking for a snog?" I try pathetically. Comedy never works against darkness but, it is still the best I've got here.

"Get back inside. I want to be alone," her voice breaks and she seems to wither a little. I hear distinct sniffling from her direction. I sit up and she sits down. Actually, she more folds in on herself like a collapsible caldron. She looks out into the lunar brightness and I can see that her face is shiny with tears. "Fine, stay. It's not like you'll want to stop me when I decide to do it." I am cottoning on; tears, dark, tall roof in the middle of the night and the phrase 'do it'. Pansy came to jump. Bloody hell, Pansy came to jump.

I have no clue what to do here. Everyone talks about doing it (we are teenagers after all) but no one actually does it, at least not here at Hogwarts. "Um . . . right, so . . . why?" I ask.

"Because you're a Gryffindor." These words are less bile and more snot or snottyness.

I can't help but laugh a little, "Not that, why are you going to 'do it'?"

"Draco, broke up with me. Well, more like hexed me into next week and told me he was only ever with me because I was 'easy'," she explains, starting out whiny but ending with whispers. Sniffle, "He said I was 'just vile'."

"Of course you're 'vile', you're a Slytherin. Isn't it part of the dress code?" Blimy, I hope she knows I am putting her on. She is really striking, not traditionally pretty, but there is something about her. I wish I could say that to her but, if she doesn't jump, she will surely use such a statement against me later.

She is crying again. Wait a minute. That is laughter. Pansy Parkinson is sitting on the Astronomy Tower roof, in the middle of the night, with me, laughing her arse off. She settles down, wipes the tears from her eyes and the snot from her nose onto her sleeve, and croaks;

"Dress code!" followed by another bunch of giggles. I just shrug. You never know which jokes are going to fly do you?

"Really Pansy, how could you let yourself get all mucusy over the Amazing Bouncing Ferret? Like he knows quality when he sees it, if it doesn't have a price tag he has no idea how to judge anything. Look at who he has for best friends. Honestly, if they were any smarter, they might pass for trolls. I hear they were planning on going in together on a bridge to live under after graduation, but, they couldn't afford the rent."

"All right, he is definitely not worth this," she says, gesturing towards the edge of the roof. "But I thought he truly liked me. I mean, I gave him my first . . ." she breaks off, looking uncomfortably at her hands.

"Oh, sorry." We lapse into quite awkwardness. "Um . . . you do know he was wrong, right? You really are quite . . . fetching. I mean in an ambitious, evil sort of way as is appropriate to a Slitherin; still, fetching nonetheless," I smile gently.

She looks over at me through the corner of her eye with a half smile and suddenly I know she won't ever use my words against me. They are too precious a thing to use as a weapon. She bumps her shoulder against mine in the universal signal that she wants my arm around her. I respond accordingly, surprising both of us. She leans into me just a little and I can't resist the urge to smell her deep-black hair. In such a way that I could never have told you who started it, we lean slowly back until we lay on the incline of the roof. For an indefinable amount of time, we stargaze.

A shiver runs through her and she snuggles into my side against chill in the night air. I look from the stars to her brilliance. She is watching me. She wordlessly reaches up and strums her finger down my nose and across my lips. I can't wait any longer. I catch her fingers in my own and draw them back to my lips. She smiles and leans up to me like I'm magnetic. I place the hand I am still holding on my shoulder and find that she is magnetic as well.

Her exhalation invades my mouth as our lips meet and now I shiver. By anyone else's standards our kiss is chaste. Neither of us even tried to deepen it but, it is the most erotic moment I could imagine. As we draw apart I can't stop myself from saying, "You know, Draco was right . . . you are easy."

Giggles are her only response.