Disclaimer: The scenes and characters used for this small blurb are property of J.K. Rowling and various other associated companies. 'Only The Good Die Young' is the musical genius of Billy Joel. This crazy a** song fic belongs to me.
Author's Note: I have to confess that I've never been a big fan of song fictions. But, under the assumption that I can do anything if I try hard enough, I've attempted my first. I don't know how it compares in relation to the typical song fic (because I haven't read any). But I sure hope you all enjoy it. The Yule Ball that takes place in book four, The Goblet of Fire, as I imagine it, was quite hilarious and, I thought, perfect for this particular song. So, without further explanation or due, I give you: 'Sinners Are Much More Fun'.
***
Ginny surveyed her pathetic reflection with a shake of her head. She was still fuming over her sorry luck. Just a few days ago she could have turned Neville down when he'd asked her to be his partner for the Yule Ball on the off chance that Harry hadn't gotten a partner yet and would suddenly notice her. After three years of non-existence and the realization that, of course, a Tri-Wizard Champion like Harry would already have a queue of girls eager to go with him, she told Neville that she would be delighted.
It wasn't an outright lie. Of course, she was delighted to have been asked. Third years weren't allowed to go in any case, unless they were asked by an older student. But the very same day she'd agreed to go with Neville, she found out Harry was still partner-less and without any real prospects. Her heart leapt painfully as Ron suggested to Harry that he take her. She would have eagerly accepted had it not already been for her hasty commitment to Neville—one that no decent, caring person would have backed out of on any account. Neville was her friend and she just didn't feel right about ditching him. Who exactly did Harry and Ron think they were to tell her that she simply had to tell Neville to shove off? That certainly wasn't the behavior that friends show to one another.
She got up, thinking uncharitably that Fleur Delacour should have thrown some of her veela fireballs at Ron when he'd asked her to go with him. Removing herself quickly from the conversation before she had the chance to say something she probably would have regretted later, she left the common room, cursing her horrible fortune.
"Frowning will do you no good, dearie. You're better off without that one. Saints like him are never any fun," her mirror told her in sympathetic tones.
Ginny nodded, still frowning stubbornly.
She wondered if Neville knew how to dance or if, once again, she would be made the fool in front of more than half the school's population. She shrugged. She couldn't expect him to know how to shag or lindy-hop. Muggle swing dancing was probably not even in his repertoire.
She gave a half-hearted twirl and smoothed her shabby white dress robes.
"You look perfect, love," her mirror offered.
Ginny rolled her eyes in disbelief, brushed hair back out of her face in a less than enthusiastic attempt to look more presentable. Really, she was doing Harry the favor by going with Neville. She was sure that whoever had the fortune of accompanying him would look far better on his arm the she would.
She gave her appearance one last critical look and then headed downstairs to meet her partner.
She found Neville at the bottom of the stairs, wringing his hands and looking nervous in robes of gunmetal gray. Nice, Ginny thought generously. Too bad he was standing right next to the two people that she had hoped to avoid for the evening. Harry had apparently asked Parvati Patill out of desperation—it certainly had nothing to do with common interests or stimulating conversation. Parvati was an absolute idiot and that was Ginny's generous opinion. She hoped secretly that Harry would regret his choice of partner as she clung to him like some sort of a claim jumper. Ginny never thought Harry the type to be happy at playing some air-head's show poodle—but, then again, you never know.
She didn't even look at the two of them and tried to remember her mirror's advice—he would never be the sort of romantic, make-a-big-scene-in-front-of-everyone, ridiculous beyond all common sense sort of guy—the sort of spontaneous, makes no sense sort of love that she was looking for. Looking back on things, this would have been the moment that Ginny would have picked when asked, "whatever happened to that hopeless crush you had on Harry Potter?"
"You look…er…you," Neville stammered as Ginny came down the stairs.
"You look very handsome, Neville," Ginny smiled, filling in his awkward stammers and silence.
He handed her a rose and she might have even blushed at the adorable gesture, she wasn't sure.
He offered her his arm and she took it, brushing past the other Gryffindors, determined to have a good time tonight.
Dinner was boring and watching Parvati make Harry look like a clown was only slightly more entertaining.
Apprehensively, Ginny agreed to stand up with Neville and dance. She caught Harry staring curiously at her as she betrayed a slight wince as Neville trod on her foot none too gracefully. She felt as if she could fume. He wasn't such a good dancer by the looks of it. "At least Neville has the nerve to lead, show dog!" she felt like shouting at Harry as he seemed to judge them.
She wished that The Weird Sisters would pick up the tempo. She wasn't sure how much more of this cheesy, revolving around the floor, not-really-considered-dancing she could handle. She longed to try out this enormous dance floor with some serious Frank Sinatra or Andrews Sisters tunes. She wondered impatiently how long it would take the joint to start jumping.
She stopped dead in her tracks as she heard a few chords pounded out elegantly on a piano—The Weird Sisters didn't have a pianist, she thought curiously scanning the room.
And then she saw him.
Despite what she'd always been taught, what people might think, how wrong this could be, her lips broke into a wide grin.
He grinned back.
The floor stopped swaying as the dancers on it were distracted as well. They stared up at the stage.
Sitting behind an ebony Steinway that Ginny was positive hadn't been there the second before, was Draco Malfoy, clad in black—typical. (But that was where typical ended and too-good-to-be-true, fall-out-of-your-chair-amazing began).
The drums picked up the tempo. Ginny was shocked to learn that either Malfoy or The Weird Sisters knew Billy Joel.
"Come out Virginia, don't let me wait
You Catholic girls start much too late
Ah but sooner or later it comes down to fate
I might as well, will be the one…"
Draco continued to play and sing despite Ginny's obvious disbelief. Her mouth might have been hanging open—she couldn't be sure. The thrilling part was, she wasn't sure of anything—other than the fact that there was no one else in the room named Virginia—at least she hoped there wasn't.
Her suspicions were confirmed when Professor Dumbledore took Draco's place at the piano, all the while the band followed his lead perfectly.
"Well they showed you the statue and told you to pray
They built you a temple and locked you away
But they never told you the price that you'd pay
For things that you might have done…"
Looking indignant, Draco's partner, Pansy Parkinson, stamped her foot and, like an angry bulldog—dressed in pink robes, as if forced into them by sheer will—huffed in an unladylike manner. He spun her out into the middle of the crowd who moved to permit them.
She seemed to enjoy the attention, but Draco never took his eyes off of Ginny. Singing as if only to her, Ginny giggled slightly as she watched him lindy energetically with his too large partner and then spin her out of his arms and off the floor as his interest in her waned.
She went hurtling into Percy who stood a little way off, discussing something of little significance with Professor McGonagall. The three ended up in a rather compromising heap on the floor.
Draco continued, this time with Parvati as an eager partner.
"You know that only the good die young
That's what I said
Only the good die young
Only the good die young…"
He easily lifted her off the ground and over his head, throwing her wildly in a Savoy manner into the arms of a pleased Cedric Diggory.
Two large Slytherins, Crabbe and Goyle, flanked him as he proceeded through the crowds of people. Ginny had to lean on Neville for support. She thought she would die for having laughed so hard as the three of them danced down the row of astonished onlookers in the manner of the boys from West Side Story. Draco comically pulled Cho Chang into an elaborate spin before dipping her low. She seemed, despite her partner's loud protestations, to be enjoying herself. She wrapped a leg seductively around him and for a moment, Ginny thought she might join Cedric in his indignation.
He stayed her fears about Cho with a wink that made her blush to her hairline.
"You might have heard I run with a dangerous crowd
We ain't too pretty, we ain't too proud
We might be laughing a bit too loud
Ah but that never hurt no one…"
Cho was immediately tossed aside as Draco raced down the isle and fell, sliding on his knees to where Ginny stood—a hand covering her mouth as she couldn't control her laughter.
"So come on Virginia, show me a sign…"
He pleaded, holding his hands out to her.
"Send up a signal I'll throw you a line…"
Ginny couldn't resist—she took his hands and pulled him to his feet. Draco immediately grabbed her up in his arms, ripping the rose Neville had given her from her hair. He threw it to Dumbledore who caught it and placed it comically between his teeth. Ginny shook her head at the ridiculous sight and was caught off guard as Draco dipped her unexpectedly. Her hair fell wildly out of its knot.
"The stained glass curtain you're hiding behind
Never lets in the sun
Darlin' only the good die young
I tell you only the good die young
Only the good die young…"
He pulled her up closer to him, looking into her eyes. Startlingly, his were gray. She'd never noticed before how incredibly beautiful they were. She didn't have long to stare in awe. She was flung out roughly where he caught her dramatically by the wrist.
"You got a nice white dress and a party on your confirmation
You've got a brand new soul
Ooh and a cross of gold…"
He spun her roughly into him. She was breathing hard. It was difficult to laugh and she'd forgotten the multitudes of eyes that were on her. There was no one in the room. No one, excepting herself and Draco.
"But Virginia they didn't give you quite enough information
You didn't count on me
When you were counting on your rosary…"
She was amazed that he knew how to dance—really dance, Swing dance! How had he learned to move like that? He was dead sexy.
"They say there's a heaven for those who will wait…"
She immediately craned her neck to see if Harry was watching and to make sure he was good and jealous. She hadn't had the chance to look through the crowds for him, though. Draco stopped and extended a finger and placed it gently at the base of Ginny's chin, turning her head and diverting her attention to its proper focus—him.
"Some say it's better but I say it ain't
I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints
The sinners are much more fun
You know that only the good die young
I tell you only the good die young
Only the good die young…"
Draco bent and, surprisingly, kissed her.
Ginny threw all inhibitions out the window and kissed him back, throwing her arms around him. To hell with all of the boring people. He was exactly what she never knew that she always wanted.
She laughed as she saw over Draco's shoulder, Kirley McCormack of The Weird Sisters abandon his usual guitar for a saxophone—blaring out his solo amazingly before Dumbledore cut in on his eighty-eight ivory and ebonies. The entire scene was surreal.
"You said your mother told you all that I could give you was a reputation
Ah she never cared for me
But did she ever say a prayer for me?"
Draco spun her out again and she nearly lost her footing. She was left absolutely dizzy from his kiss. She smacked painfully into Harry.
He looked just about as stunned as she did.
Before he could mutter a gentlemanly apology for being in her way, Draco hauled her away from him, pinning her arm behind her back. She smiled through her huffing and puffing. It was the most fun she'd ever had.
He continued to sing to the accompanying saxophone and piano.
"Come out, come out, come out Virginia
Don't let me wait
You Catholic girls start much too late…"
Dumbledore was pounding wildly on the Steinway and others had joined in the dancing. Fred or George jitter-bugged energetically by with a random Hufflepuff.
"Sooner or later it comes down to fate
I might as well, will be the one
You know that only the good die young…"
Ginny winced as she felt the pressure of Neville's weight as it came clumsily down on her already sore foot.
It was then that she realized with a painful ache that she had been daydreaming again.
She made a desperate scan of the room and found her bad-boy Slytherin dancing a short way off with his ugly and boring partner.
Harry was walking off of the dance floor followed by a hassled Parvati, but she couldn't give a damn about him. He was not Draco. That was his first major fault.
She must have been looking longingly, pathetically or even disbelieving at Draco because, to her great humiliation, he stopped.
"What is your problem, Weasley?" he looked to Neville and then back to her, "Other than your desperate need of a decent partner?" He didn't give her a chance to answer but took Pansy roughly by the arm and shoved her in Neville's direction, pulling Ginny toward himself instead.
She didn't betray her outward appearance of being thoroughly shocked and surveyed the wall-flowers, finding both Ron and Harry there—but luckily occupied by Hermione.
Neville began to protest but Ginny quickly silenced him with a meaningful shake of her head.
Pansy took one look at Neville and shook her head, "I don't think so," she announced and walked off the floor. Neville walked off in the other direction, hands in his pockets.
"Well, what do you say, Weasley?" Draco asked, elegantly raising his eyebrows.
Ginny was lost again in his incredibly silver eyes but recalled her self with what small amount of grace remained to her.
She shrugged and answered, "I might as well."
Draco smiled and pulled her closer to him.
To Ginny's immense shock and confusion, he leaned down and brushed his lips across her ear, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine, he half whispered, half sang:
"Tell you baby
You know that only the good die young…"
This song fiction is dedicated to Sara (soupofthdaysara) the biggest Draco Malfoy fan I know.