Divine Humiliation

Divine Humiliation

"What's wrong, Draco? You look--BLAISE!!! That's the second time, you stupid-- this is my Ralph Lauren robe!"

"Did you see the way he looked at me?" Blaise said, ignoring the girl beside her who was wiping the spilled pumpkin juice off her robes. She focused her eyes at Draco, who was watching her face screw up into a wide, wide smile. "I'm telling you, Harry Potter is--"

"--not interested in you," Pansy said, savagely shoving the other girl away. "Besides, it's just his luck you got Flitwick to pair you up with him."

"Oh, you got that right," Blaise said, her eyes glinting like a leopard that had caught sight of her prey. She glanced at the Gryffindor table. "His luck." She smirked at the Slytherin beside her. "You're just angry because a Weasley gets to grope you in public."

Pansy shuddered. "You could just imagine the horror of him touching my Armani robe, and muggle brand or not I love my robes," she said, rubbing her hands over her arms vigorously. "His large poor ugly hands were moving down my back... I swear that Weasel King was about to grab my--"

"At least he has the decency to feel you," Blaise said, pouting. "What I'd give to have Harry touch my--"

"Spoiled my appetite, you both," Draco said, pushing his plate away in disgust. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Can we talk about something less repulsive than Wonder Git and the Groping King?"

"Fine." Blaise smoothened the front of her robes. "Let's talk about you and Granger," she said blithely, grinning at him. "Tearing up the dance floor yesterday, what a wicked way to start off practice."

"Oh, that was just so ridiculous to watch," Pansy said, scowling. "And I just felt Weasley crumpling his fists on my clothes--"

He could feel a wide grin erupting on his face at the mere mention of his 'small' feat. "It was entertaining," he said, ignoring Pansy. "The wickedest part of it was when she realized I was just playing her all along."

"You got her, all right," Millicent said over her own glass of pumpkin juice. "I admit, though, the 'ferret' comment was funny." She chuckled.

Draco glared at her. "You want your mouth stuck to Longbottom's all day and night?" he threatened.

She rolled her eyes. "You keep saying you'll perform that spell for me but you never do it."

"Eww, Millicent!" Pansy shrieked, dropping her spoon loudly on her plate. "Snogging a Longbottom! Now I've lost my appetite!"

"Hey, Granger! Aren't you just the wild party girl--"

Draco's ears perked up at the catcalls and whistles that filled the Great Hall. He looked at the Gryffindor table to see his dancing partner sit between Potter and Weasley with the grace and refinement of a newly crowned queen. She even gave a little wave to her appreciative audience.

"Dance with me, would you? We'll burn a hole through the floor--"

"I'll request for Flitwick to change partners! I'm a better dancer than Malfoy, anyway--"

"Shut up!" Weasel howled, his ridiculous face looking more ridiculous with that ridiculously angry expression on it. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

"Hermione, that dance you did with Malfoy was hot," Weaslette said, pushing her ugly brother away and depositing herself firmly at Granger's left. Draco's interest heightened, and the sounds on his table faded as he concentrated on eavesdropping. "When he dipped you that second time, I thought he was going to snog you senseless--"

"Ginny, please," Weasel protested, dropping his spoon loudly on his plate. "You weren't even there yesterday. How could you possibly know about that?"

Weaslette lifted her nose high in the air. "Lavender told me, as did Parvarti, Susan, and Hannah. Actually, that was the topic of yesterday's conversations at the girls' bathroom."

"Conversations at the Girls' Bathroom," Potter repeated, smiling. "You make it sound like a formal meeting."

"Oh, it is," Weaslette said flippantly. "Only the juiciest, most interesting and most controversial issues are talked about, let me tell you. And what could be more juicy, interesting, and controversial than the head students doing the dirty deed in front of everyone?"

"Harry got paired with Zabini!" Weasel interjected. "I think that's more interesting than Malfoy and Hermione's--"

"Shut up Ron!" Potter said, eyeing the other boy with disgust. He actually hovered his fork over his own neck.

"Shut up Ron!" Weaslette echoed, rolling her eyes. "That's nothing compared to Malfoy and Hermione's dance of lurve."

Dance of lurve? Draco glanced at Granger, half-expecting her to be flushed and humiliated at the mention of the event. He was taken aback to see her smiling and nodding as though she thoroughly enjoyed talking about yesterday.

"It was...controversial?" she asked, and then chuckled when the red-haired girl nodded with vigor.

"Yes, yes, yes," Weaslette said, edging closer to her. "Hermione, I'll just die if I can't watch you and Malfoy 'get it on' today. Please, please, please transfigure me to a seventh year student! I'll be your servant for life if you do!"

"I'm sorry, Gin," she replied, instantly looking apologetic. "I don't want to get into trouble, especially not this close to graduation. I feel sorry for you, though."

"Why?" Weaslette asked, rather suspiciously.

At this point, Granger lifted her eyes off the younger Gryffindor and met Draco's stare head on. "Because something interesting is going to happen later, I can guarantee that," she said, smiling widely. She lifted her goblet and took a long sip from it, never breaking eye contact with him as she did.

Draco blinked, caught off guard at her finding him staring at her. Was she aware of what he was doing all along? Not that it mattered too much, though. He wiped the surprised expression on his face with a smirk. Granger cocked her brow, and then focused on her meal. He did the same.

"Did you see the way Harry Potter looked at me?" Blaise repeated, bouncing on her chair. The conversations at the Slytherin table surrounded Draco's senses again. "I'm telling you, he's in love--!" She waved her arms wildly and caused several glasses to topple on the table.

"Blaise, if you spill juice over my robes again I'll Crucio you to oblivion!" Pansy threatened, standing up. "Do I have to tell you that this is my Ralph--"

Her sentence was cut short when several hoots and screeches filled the air. Draco looked up to see owls, eagles, and all sorts of delivery birds filling the ceiling of the hall for a minute, before these birds separated and went to the different tables. He recognized Oswald, his own owl, as it swooped towards him carrying a small parcel on its beak. It dropped the letter on his lap and flew away.

The envelope was yellow with black ribbons all over it. There was a neatly scrawled Draco CUTIE >o< Malfoy on the outside, and the childishness of it made him scowl. Before anyone else could see the envelope, he tore the side, grabbed the letter, and shoved the torn paper inside his pocket.

He unfolded the meticulously folded paper, and scowled even more at the content.

Jumping Jackstones you're reading my letter! It's, like, my dream to have you read my note because, well... you're so cute and adorable if you weren't such a horrible, egoistic and annoying git! Oh, but I hope I will be seeing more of you soon... wait, actually, I WOULD be seeing more of you soon, like, before lunch today! Snogs and Hugs! * Garnet Hughes (can't wait to see what color you have on!)

"What's that?" Pansy asked, moving to get the note from him.

"Nothing," he said, tearing the note into shards and shoving them inside his pocket as well. "Just some stupid Hufflepuff expecting me to meet with her. Idiot girl." Another lovesick note to add to his growing collection, he thought grimly. As if he didn't have enough to burn already!

The sound of fork banging against glass caught his attention. He looked at the professors' table to see McGonagall standing up.

"Attention, attention everyone!" she said. When all students had quieted down, she adjusted her eyeglasses and spoke. "We have decided to split the seventh year students into two groups for the dance practice every morning, after Professor Flitwick reported a rather... interesting... occurrence yesterday." McGonagall seemed to search the students for the two people responsible for that interesting occurrence. She nodded once - at Granger, Draco assumed, and then at him. "Now, the first group will still be supervised by Professor Flitwick, while the second group will be moved under Professor Trelawney's care." She picked up a scroll on the table and opened it. "The following students are asked to report to the Charms classroom immediately: Potter, Zabini, Weasley, Parkinson, Bulstrode, Longbottom, Bones, Finnegan, Patil, Thomas, Patil, Nott, Abbott, Crabbe, Grecian, Goyle, Brown, Augusts, and finally, Malfoy, Granger. Those of you not mentioned will automatically be going to the Divinations classroom where Professor Trelawney is waiting." McGonagall lowered the scroll. "The rest of the students will be going back to their common rooms right away."

"Trelawney teaching dance steps?" Pansy muttered, sneering. "I thought Flitwick was odd enough--"

"At least, we didn't get into her group, and we didn't get separated from our partners," Blaise said, standing up. "Well, better freshen up before I see my husband-to-be. Ta!" And she ran out of the Great Hall.

Pansy eyed the other girl's retreat in disgust. "Damn that girl, at least she has something to look forward to, whereas I... Ugh, I'm going to be groped again!" she said, shaking her head. She threw her napkin at the table. "My mother would just go over the top when she learns I'm paired with a Weasley--but I guess, that won't be too much a problem, since you're partnered with a Muggleborn. Imagine how your parents will react!"

"Thank you for pointing that out, love," Draco said, his voice dry as dust. "As unfortunate as the circumstances are, I might as well make the sight fascinating to watch." He glanced at the Gryffindor table, and found Granger rising from her seat. She dusted herself, moving her hands slowly from the top of her stomach to the area just above her hip. She looked up, and, again, met his eyes. Granger smirked, and then strode out of the Great Hall with a bounce in her every step.

Draco rose from his seat as well. This dance practice would definitely be more than just interesting, if he could have his hand in it. A flash of the routine they did returned to him, and he smiled - he must admit, he actually enjoyed dancing with Granger!

"Let's go," he said, moving towards the door. He didn't bother to wait for Pansy, though; he just allowed her to catch up with his steps. They made their way to the Charms classroom and found the door to be wide open. When they stepped in, the door immediately drifted shut. Draco looked at the front of the classroom to find Flitwick standing beside a high chair and a gigantic mirror.

"Ah, all of you are finally in, I see," Flitwick said, levitating himself so that he could stand on the stool. "Find your partners, everyone, and your positions from yesterday - though I will request Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger to stand on the middle, please. I wouldn't want both of you losing your heads again."

Draco walked towards the center, and saw that Granger was already there. "Waiting for me?" he asked, sneering.

"Yes," she answered, smiling. "After all, this wouldn't be as humiliating if you weren't here."

"Very good!" Flitwick said, clapping. "But some minor adjustments... Mr. Potter, you and Ms. Zabini please take a step closer to Miss Grecian and Mr. Goyle. That's it. Mr. Longbottom and Miss Bulstrode... a little to the left please. Yes, yes, very good. Mr. Weasley, Miss Parkinson, please exchange places with Mr. Finnegan and Miss Bones - no offense, Mr. Finnegan, but you're a horrible dancer." The professor surveyed everything from his stool, and when satisfied he clapped his hand and a song began. "Take your partner's hand!"

Draco took Granger's hand and held it firmly inside his. "Thought of a fitting retribution yet?" he drawled.

"Why? Feeling a bit twitchy?" she retorted.

"No," he answered, looking directly at her. "And I don't see the reason why I should be, because as far as I know, nothing humiliating happened to me after the dance practice yesterday, or earlier this morning..."

Granger clucked her tongue. "Patience, dear Malfoy," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. Automatically, he lifted his free hand and brought it to her waist. "You'll get your reward sooner or later."

"Now step to the right, one, two, three, and to the left, one, two three. Then cross your feet, over and under, and cross again, over and under, step, step, that's it, Mr. Goyle! Good heavens you're a wonderful dancer!"

Draco and Granger looked at each other. "Goyle?" they both mouthed, hers in amusement, his in disgust.

"All right, now girls, move to your partner's left, like so... don't break hand contact, Mr. Potter! There. Thank you. Now step to the left, cross, step, cross, step, and to the right, step, cross, step, cross, step--"

"This dance is boring, don't you think?" Draco asked her. "Nothing compared to our... what's that? Oh, yes. Dance of lurve."

She glared at him. "No," she said. "It's not boring. Personally I prefer this dance over yesterday's because I think it's rather... safe."

He grinned. "Safe," he repeated.

"Yes," she said, gritting her teeth. Granger looked away.

"--Miss Abbott, I said to the right! And Miss Patil, you were supposed to step your left foot over your right foot, not the other way around. I think I may have to call on Mr. Goyle and Miss Grecian to demonstrate to you--"

"Professor Flitwick?"

The tiny professor looked at the door to see it open and McGonagall standing at the doorway. "Yes, Minerva?"

"The Headmaster wishes to see you in his office," she said curtly. The professor looked around the classroom, and as her eyes rested on Draco and Granger she actually smiled. But that smile was very fleeting, though, as a stern expression wiped it away immediately. "Right now, if you please."

"Oh, all right." Flitwick levitated himself off the chair. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't stray from your positions, and don't leave the room!" he said to the students before he left.

"Get your filthy hands off my robe!" Pansy shrieked, pushing Weasley away. "If you must know, this is Ralph--"

"Oh shut it!" Groping King retaliated, looking about ready to lunge at her.

Draco chuckled, thinking how absolutely amusing it would have been if Weasel actually hit Pansy. It'd surely shut her up, and send him to trouble... and those were the fun parts! But of course, Granger and the Wonder Git would come to pathetic Weasel's aid, spoiling everything from there... speaking of which...

His brows furrowed. He stole a glance at Granger's hand on his shoulder, wondering why on bloody earth was it so warm, and how was it that he could feel it through his clothes. The fabric of his robes was very thick to not let any kind of temperature permeate it too easily, so how come...?

Granger chuckled a bit, and shook her head.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing," she was quick to say. Granger cleared her throat and looked him in the eye. He noted the very firm blush that resided on both her cheeks.

"What is it?" he demanded, though his tone didn't come out as severe as he wanted it to be. Draco was easily distracted by the vivid pink hue that enlivened her face. What could've brought those up?

She blinked. "Can't you feel it?" Granger asked, looking as though she was biting the insides of her cheeks to keep herself from smiling.

"I've no idea what you're talking about. Enlighten me."

With a sensuously slow pace she moved her hand from his shoulder down to his arm, and he paused - not at the act itself, but at the feeling of it. It felt like she moved her palm against his skin. His bare skin. Granger moved closer to him, until her breath tickled his ear as she spoke. "That's a very lovely color of red you have on."

Draco pulled away and dropped all forms of contact between them. He was about to ask her what she meant, when--

"Oy!" Weasel squealed in absolute delight. "Malfoy's robes are gone!"

The words hit Draco like rocks. He whirled around to face the idiot, who was red on the face from laughing. "What in bloody hell are you on, Weasel? Can't you see my robes are--"

"--not there!" Potter said, pointing at him. The scarred git was also laughing like there was no tomorrow. "Look, everyone - Malfoy's got clowns on his underwear!"

Most of the students howled in laughter. Thomas looked like he was choking while Finnegan actually pounded his fists on his chest to start breathing again.

Draco stood very still; beginning to realize finally what the hell was going on. He could feel his ears burn and his skin fume at the embarrassment that flooded him. He knew he was wearing those red boxer shorts with clowns on it. And the only way for the others to know that was through--

The mirror in front of the classroom caught his attention, but more importantly, the reflection in the mirror shed light on his predicament. He saw himself wearing nothing, absolutely nothing, but his shorts. His robes, thick fabric and all, were gone. An illusion spell, he thought in spite, not making any effort to hide his bare chest. And an advanced one at that!

"Oh my God, Crabbe is having a seizure!" Abbott cried in horror. But no one really paid attention to her, or to the salivating Slytherin for that matter.

"Draco!" Pansy screeched, fighting the crowd that enveloped him. When she reached him, he could see that she was very red on the face; almost as red as the Weasel's hair. "Draco! I demand that you cover my honeymoon present right this very instant!"

That sent the others laughing again, but this time Draco paid them no mind. He was busy staring at Hermione Granger, who wasn't laughing like the others were. Actually, she was covering her very flushed face with her very pale hands; standing stock still while the others were rocking with laughter.

And then he knew exactly who was responsible for this humiliation. Draco Malfoy, you blundering idiot.

The pieces fell into place. There was no 'Garnet Hughes', but the initials were indeed real. And the intention behind the letter... the phrase 'I would be seeing more of you soon' stood starkly from the others, and how could he forget 'can't wait to see what color you have on!'?

Without a word Draco withdrew his wand. The laughter died down instantly, and the mood changed dramatically. However, he wasn't going to hex anyone. Draco muttered a simple "Finite Incantatem," and it was over.

Or was it?

At that exact moment, Flitwick came bustling in. "Oh, yes, where were we? Oh, right - why aren't you in your places, everyone? Places! Places!"

While the others scrambled to return to their positions, Draco fixed his eyes on the girl who had now removed her face from the confines of her palms. She was still flushed; her cheeks still wore that lovely shade of red that complemented his boxer shorts nicely. Wearing his most neutral expression he said, "Why if it isn't Garnet Hughes." He smirked. "Seen enough of me, I trust."

A smile slowly emerged from her lips. Granger looked him up and down, raking her eyes over his body. "More than I wanted to, unfortunately." She clucked her tongue again. "I'm disappointed in you, Malfoy. Getting a bit slow, I see. Took you quite some time to finally figure things out."

"What? The letter, or the spell in the letter?" he asked. "Crafty, Granger. Very crafty." He stood in front of her, and under Flitwick's orders took her hand.

"Thank you."

"You do understand that this puts me in a perplexing situation," he said, moving his hand over her waist again. "I seem to remember that yesterday, I was partly involved in the humiliation. Today, though... the embarrassment was all mine. And all because of your desire to see me naked--"

"Oh--!"

"Let me finish." Draco smiled at her. "I am torn. A part of me wants to call it even. A larger part of me wants revenge."

"You seem to have completely forgotten the steps, everyone! Miss Parkinson, you are all over the place, as are you Mr. Crabbe - what could have possibly happened in the five minutes I was gone?" Flitwick said in desperation.

Granger smiled beatifically at him. "I say go with revenge, though really, I doubt that you could concoct a more potent retribution than I just did."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Is that a challenge I hear from you, Gryffindor?"

"Indeed it is, Slytherin. And I know you're going to lose... more than your clothes this time."

He ignored Flitwick as he spun her three times and pulled her closer to him, close enough to see how her cheeks flushed deeper at their sudden proximity. "I'm going to have fun with you, Hermione," he breathed. "Let the games begin."