1) Harry Potter, sadly, is still not mine. So thanks to JKR for that.
2) English isn't my native language. So if you find grammar and spelling mistakes, I'm sorry. Nevertheless, I hope you can enjoy this little fic =) BTW...I'm always in need and searching for a beta reader. So if one of you would be interested, just text me.
3) Likes and comments are always welcome, even or especially constructive criticism.
4) This fic has 4 chapters and I try to upload them asap.
Chapter 1
"You can't be fucking serious.", Harry Potter shouted at his best friend, who sat on one of the hospital beds and with his leg in plaster. He raced into the hospital wing of their school and came slithering to a halt. His hands gestured wildly at the bandaged leg.
Ron Weasley had at least the decency to look ashamed, "Sorry, mate."
"What the heck has happened?", The dark-haired teen asked and sat down on the uncomfortable plastic chair next to Ron's bed.
When he had heard that his best friend, brother by choice, companion in crime was in the hospital wing, he went immediately.
They were best friends for seven years straight and nothing, not even a very furious Professor McGonagall, their Spanish and biology teacher, could hinder him.
"Goyle, the git.", Ron bent his other leg and made a grimace when he clumsily touched the injured one, "He pushed me when we were in the hall after chemistry, almost fell down the fucking stairs and I got tangled with 'Mione's bag."
"Language, Mister Weasley.", The school matron and owner of the hospital wing scolded. She had arrived unnoticed and stood with an earnest face behind them, the white medical smocks impeccable.
"It's going to be ok, right?", Harry pleaded and starred at the hurt leg. It was a long leg with a big foot and even longer toes. Toes, which were blue.
"Mister Potter.", Madam Pomfrey started to lecture in her piercing, annoyed voice, "This foot is broken."
"But whats with the competition in three weeks?", Harry croaked and frantically gasped for air.
That was bad, that was sooooo bad. They had a dance competition in three weeks they had worked for the whole school year. This was important. They couldn't not dance on that day.
"Don't be an imbecile, Mister Potter. Clearly, Mister Weasley shan't take part of that dance spectacle. His foot is broken!", Madam Pomfrey had put her hands on her hip and sent him a stern look, "And now, young man, out! Mister Weasely has to take a rest."
"But...", Harry interrupted and sent Ron a helplessness glance, who just shrugged his shoulders.
"OUT!", she had raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry, Harry.", Ron called out when he reached the door and went into the hall.
"Shit.", he mumbled to himself.
This competition was important. It could have got them the attention of the National Performing Arts School, which was what the best friends wanted the most. At least it could have got them a scholarship.
Sure, Harry could try to do it alone. He had three weeks to work on another performance but what would be the point without his best friend? And a new performance wouldn't be as good as the one they already had.
He started to walk down the corridor toward the Great Hall for lunch, not entirely around the corner when his mobile buzzed, 'Yo, are you angry? ~Weasle~.'
'Nah, you're alright?'
'Yeah, I'm good. Sorry that I can't do that for you anymore.'
'What do you mean?', Harry frowned.
'Well... I wanted to talk to you about that after the competition, but well...'
In the Great Hall, it was, as usual, noisy. Students talked, dished rattled and somewhere near him, Seamus and Dean had a strained discussion whether football or hockey was the better choice. Dean slapped his hand on the table, "Jeez, Shay, of course, footie is better. What are you even talking about?"
The Irish boy went red, with anger or joy because of the argument, Harry wasn't sure and started to retort.
He sat down on the bench on his table, ignoring most students. Only laying his hand on Hermione's shoulder in the process, so she would acknowledge his presence and grab for a cottage pie, his eyes on the display, 'Ron?'
'Sorry, Pomfrey. It's just that I'm not sure if I want to do dancing for a living anymore, you know? My grades are good enough for a scholarship for veterinarian medicine, and I thought I could do that, with Charlie."
Charlie Weasley had become a veterinarian and worked worldwide with endangered species.
'Why haven't you told me?'
'Thought you would be angr- Hello Mister Potter. Stop texting; Mister Weasley needs his rest. You can talk after dinner, sincerely Madam Pomfrey.'
Well, that had worked flawlessly, hadn't it? He thought and sighed loudly.
"'Mione, did you know that Ron doesn't want to go to the National Performing Arts School anymore?", He asked his best friend and current girlfriend of his other best friend. The girl looked up from the book in front of her and raised an eyebrow, "So, he told you eventually?"
"So, you knew?!", he gasped for air, "Why haven't you guys told me?"
"Harry.", she said in the same tone as McGonagall when she was disappointed after an utterly stupid answer, "You are quite theatrical about stuff like that."
"I'm not!"
"You are!", replied his ex-girlfriend, Ginny, who had come and sat next to them.
Ginny and he had been together for nearly two years. After the summer of that school year, the girl had held him back and asked if they should work on their relationship. When Harry hadn't answered anything, unsure what because for him the relationship had been fine, she had sighed and broken up. Until that day he didn't know why they weren't together anymore, but if he was honest, he didn't really miss it. The only real problem had been, that the girl was Ron's little sister and the friendship had been tense for a few weeks.
Ginny held up her dark red hair, while she got herself some stew and continued, "You are always dramatic about dancing. Nearly as bad as Malfoy."
"I'm not like that poncy git, am I, 'Mione?"
"Well...", but instead of answering, she started to ignore them in favour of reading the book, hiding behind the mess of her brown curls.
Ginny sniggered and went up to go to her current boyfriend, Blaise Zabini.
He sighed again. This must have been the day of letting the air out of his body in a non-theatrical way. They were wrong; he wasn't dramatic.
"You're ok, Harry?", A dreamy voice next to him asked. When Harry turned, he looked directly into Luna Lovegood milk-white face and cornflower blue eyes.
"Hey, Luna.", He tried to smile at her. They two had been friends for several years now, even though the girl was a strange fella.
They had met for the first time in the American diner next to their school. Luna had worn a yellow summer dress, grass-green rubber boots and strange hat that probably came from the Victorian epoch, despite the season. It had been December, and heavy snowflakes had been falling from the grey sky. She had spoken about creatures no one who hadn't seen death could see them. She called them Thestrales. All in all, she was strange, but Harry had liked her immediately. Since then they went to all school parties together, and she even had put on a lion-mask at one of his and Ron's competitions so that she could cheer them on properly.
Luna sat next to him on the bench and took a bit of his pie.
"Whats wrong?", she asked; a few crumbles were falling out of her mouth and although Harry couldn't see Hermione, he knew that the girl was twitching.
"Ron broke his foot because Goyle pushed him.", he declared shortly.
Luna made a face, "That must have hurt, right."
"Right.", Harry sighed again and put his mobile in his bag. Ron wouldn't be able to talk to him anyway, with Pomfrey watching him like a hawk.
"And now he can't do the competition with me."
Luna raised a pale eyebrow, "You don't want to do that alone?"
He stretched a bit, rubbing his leg against hers. They always touched in a non-romantic way, and he liked it. Human touch was essential for him.
When he still had lived with his aunt and her fat, walrus husband, the only touch he got were beatings. Since being with his godfather and in the boarding school Hogwarts, a lot had changed. Now he sought out the contact.
"Well, I don't know who would be willing and good enough to do it with me.", Harry made a face and swallowed another sigh in the last moment.
Luna jumped out of her seat, the white blonde waves bouncing, and grabbed him by the collar, "Oh, I know someone. Come on."
Bewildered he followed her, tripped with almost every step. As fast as possible he walked with the blonde through the corridors of the school. It was early April, and due to the stone walls, it was chilly.
In front of one of the gym rooms, she stood still and laid her hand on his chest, "Just watch first and then talk. Not the other way round, like always, ok?"
"I always think first."
"Liar.", She simply responded. He could hear some music, modern club stuff, nothing he would really prefer, but it was ok.
When he saw that Luna still waited for an answer, he merely shrugged his shoulders, "Ok, I won't say anything."
Then she opened the door, with a bright smile on her lips and directed him to be quiet while following her into the room.
The music got louder and the heavy huffs of someone working out mixed with it.
Harry peeked around the corner.
There were some mirrors on the wall, together with a ballet barre. The big windows let enough sun throw, so the room was lit in warm light. Harry knew the place quite well. He trained there as well when he had time next to football and the official dance training.
The first thing he saw of the person, was long, pale legs. Endless, tones, beautiful legs. The person was bent down, stretching their long limbs and huffing with effort. The long legs ended at a nice looking bubble-bum in dark green shorts. Harry peered at the torso, which was muscled but still slim. Long arms, beautiful shoulders, a long, white swanlike neck. Silver blond hair and...
"BLOODY HELL!", Harry shouted when the dancer turned around and noticed them, "Malfoy?"
"Harry!", Luna uttered annoyed, "You promised."
"Potter!?", Draco Malfoy, Slytherin prince, richest human being at that school, an ego the size of the Great Canyon sneered at him. They hated each other for seven years. Since the day Malfoy had joked about Ron's upbringing and his hand-me-down-clothes.
Harry should have known. The only person Luna liked talking to was the rich bastard. He wasn't sure why they were friends, probably because their fathers were related over a dozen corners, but they were, and here he was, appreciating Malfoys bum.
"What are you doing here?", Malfoy demanded to know, crossing his arms over his toned chest.
"I'm asking myself the same.", Harry muttered while sending Luna an irritated glance.
"You should watch him, and not talk.", she huffed with annoyance.
"You watched me?"
"No, I didn't!"
"But that's why you are here, Harry!", Luna retorted.
"Yeah, Luna, I've seen him bent over."
"You looked at my ass?", snapped the blond git.
"NO! I didn't!", Harry grunted, "As if I would look at you, you pointy dimwit."
"You did look at his bum, Harry."
Malfoy growled at him, "I'm not pointy."
"You are."
His large hands came up, rubbing over his pale, pointy face and pinched the crook of his nose, "What the fuck are you doing here, Luna?"
She beamed at him for asking her and answered, "Well you see, Ronald has a broken leg, and Harry has a competition in twenty days and eighteen hours."
"And?"
"And I thought you would be perfect for helping him."
For a short moment it was dead silence, but then Harry started to laugh out loud, nearly toppling over and his hand were searching for support. Even Malfoys mouth twitched dangerously near of a laugh.
"You can't be serious.", he cackled.
"Yeah, Luna.", Harry took several deep breaths, "He's a ballet dancer."
"What does this supposed to mean?", The other boy snapped and looked at him furiously. His silver eyes were like daggers in the moonlight.
"Well, you know...", Harry stuttered, distracted from those eyes.
"I'll let you know, that ballet dancer are capable of doing everything you hip-hop boys can do."
"Nah, you can't. It's different training."
Malfoy took a step towards Harry and even while walking, he moved like the typical ballet dancer. Graceful, but with a stick in the ass. Although his bum still looked excellent.
The blond scrutinised him. The aristocratic facial features over plain. He looked nice when he didn't behave condescendingly.
"I wouldn't want to help you anyway."
"Boys.", Luna tried to intervene, but Harry interrupted her rudely, "See, as I said. You couldn't do it."
"I said I wouldn't do it, not that I couldn't", Malfoy stopped directly in front of Harry, their noses almost touched, and he could feel the hot breath of the other boy in his face. Seen up close, his eyes looked even more beautiful. Framed with almost invisible lashes, so long that they brushed his eyebrow and iris was in an amber tone. The rest clearly silver. Harry hadn't seen this before.
"STOP THAT!", Luna called and stamped her foot, "That's enough."
Malfoy backed away, and Harry leaned on the barre.
"Remember what you told me once, Draco?", She hissed, and he jerked. His pale face went even paler. Slowly he nodded.
"I honour it now.", Harry had never seen her angry like that, "And you!"
She turned to him, her hands on her hips and for a brief moment she looked exactly like Mrs Weasley, "You will work with Draco."
"Luna, I can do that alone.", Harry wanted to get out of it, obviously uncomfortable working with Malfoy, "I just work on new choreography."
"Yeah, maybe.", She mussed, "But the new one won't be as good as the one you'll already have. And you want to go to this dance school, do you?!"
"Yeah, sure, but..."
However, Luna had turned around, "Then work together.", and slammed the door close behind her.
Harry gazed dumbly at the door. He hadn't seen her like this ever. That was quite a first tantrum.
"Well.", Malfoy drawled, "Then let's get started, shall we?"
"You don't really intend to dance with me, do you, Malfoy?", Harry countered with a raised eyebrow.
Malfoy bent down to the music player, his bum right in the air, and answered, "I don't want to find out how she reacts if we do not do that. So take off that stupid jumper and show me the moves."
Fuck, Harry thought while glancing at Malfoys beautiful backside.