A Dance in the Wrath of Flames

PART ONE

Draco's Account

CHAPTER ONE: Unexpected Regrets

In the core of my Hogwarts fifth year, I went out with a girl named Pansy Parkinson. She was my foremost genuine girlfriend; it had persisted until the finish of the fifth year. Just before school let out for the summer, she broke up with me for my comrade called Blaise, but we only started being associates in the instigation of the fifth year, when we mutually ended up as partners in Potions, I didn't truly talk to him before that.

Who would dare break up with a Malfoy? Blaise was forever looking at girls and flirting with them. He was a real victor. Well, so am I, but his pull-a-girl techniques were charisma and compliments, attractiveness, money and the bad-boy factor that turned them on; I had all that too, but it was just dissimilar, if you know what I mean. I was still the bad-guy Slytherin and so on, but Blaise was just a bad-guy Slytherin.

Well, nevertheless, the Christmas Ball was forthcoming, and due to the Pansy situation, I still didn't have a date. Christmas was still two months away, so I didn't understand why it was called the Christmas Ball. It was only opened for the seventh years though, almost certainly as an ultimate ball for us all.

"Got a date yet?" Blaise asked me in Charms, the next day.

He knew perfectly well that I didn't, but even though he was my friend, make it so-called friend he liked to stick it to me once in a while.

"I decided that if I couldn't find a date, I wouldn't be going. After all, it's just a stupid dance, anyway."

"But, you're the bloody Head Boy!"

"I don't care!"

It was then that I noticed the impish gleam in Blaise's eyes; either he was about to say an exceedingly bad joke, or propose something that would humiliate me to transgression.

"Hey, I bet the Mudblood isn't going with anyone?" Blaise said snidely.

Well, besides being attractive, nothing could have prepared me for that initiative.

"Which Mudblood are you referring to?"

"You know entirely well which one I mean."

To this day, I would never understand what Blaise was thinking that night. Sure, I knew which Mudblood he was referring to...but why he was referring to her was quite beyond me.

"I wouldn't ask her if I was placed under the Imperius Curse," I spat.

"You have no alternative... you have to go with somebody, or else no girl will touch with you with a ten foot pole, ever," Blaise said, trying to sound knowledgeable. "And, besides, she's the Head Girl... it'll look right..."

I spent the remnants of the evening debating the good outcomes - believe me, there weren't many - and bad outcomes, which there were plenty of, in my dilemma. Believe me, I went back and forth for a while, but in the end the option was inevitable, even to me. I had to ask the Mudblood to the Ball; Pansy was unavailable, Millicent was just plain hideous – nobody ever asked her, at least the Mudblood was prettier - not much, but prettier. Mudblood or not. I mean who would imagine a Malfoy and a Mudblood together, for one?

I was always at hand for revelation and it would stop Pansy being so inquisitive about who I was going with – always rubbing it in that she had broke up with me and now, I didn't have a date to take to Ball - being Head Boy made it worse. It would satisfy the headmaster for another - not like, I cared, but it might bring my school graduation report up. I paced around the room thinking of the best way to ask her. More likely, she would slap me again for suggesting such an affair than agree to come to the Christmas Ball with me. It was dubious she would have an appropriate date either; the Weasel, in my judgment, did not tally, whereas Potter was taken by the Weasel's younger sister.

So there I was, settled in my dormitory with the prospect that the Mudblood might not go to the ball with me. Why did I really care? After all, she was a Mudblood!

I intended to ask her during the first lesson of the morning, which happened to be Potions, but Granger was not in the lesson. Of all the times it had to be today, I had no idea why I cared, anyway.

I presumed, the Mudblood would be in the library studying, as customary. So, at lunch I went to look for her, and sure enough, there she was. I spotted her seated alone at a table, just detectable behind a bookcase. I went over and cleared my throat stridently to get her attention - I wasn't going to touch her.

"Malfoy," she said, as she turned to see who it was, "what do you want?"

As soon as I took a seat alongside her, I saw Pansy hovering near the entrance to the library. I scooted my chair so Pansy wouldn't be able to see me. Even though I was going to ask the Mudblood to the Ball, I didn't want anyone, principally Pansy, to see me talking to her.

"What are you doing?" Granger asked me.

"Moving my chair, what does it look like?"

"Why?" she said haughtily.

"What's it to you? It's none of your business," I said maliciously. I should really be civil to her, being vindictive didn't really help the circumstance, but who cared?

"Okay, I won't ask, if that's what you want," she answered scowling. "So, what are you here for?"

The Mudblood glanced at me and raised an eyebrow, as if daring me to tell her right then.

"So," I said instead, "where were you today? You missed potions. At first, I thought that was a sign of the apocalypse - I went to see if the meek had indeed inherited the world...to my relief, I noticed Weasley running around in circles, chasing a fake tail he sewed onto his rear. World domination still eludes that one..."

Granger stood up and slammed her book shut. "Why do you want to know?"

I shrugged and glanced across at the library door. Pansy had departed and I couldn't distinguish anyone else outside the door. The coast was finally clear, but I still wasn't ready to ask the Mudblood yet.

"What were you doing? Trying to commit to memory all the spells that have ever existed and even those that haven't?"

"No," Granger retorted, "in point of fact."

"Oh, then what were you reading? '101 Ways to Wile the Wizard of your World into the backseat of the Wagon?"

This time the Mudblood didn't retort, and we sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments.

"Malfoy," she finally responded, "why would you care?"

"I never said, I did."

She just looked at me, cockily.

The moment of certainty had arrived, and I cleared my throat.

"Well...I wanted to know if you were going to the Christmas Ball."

"Oh," she said. Her tone made it seem as if she were oblivious that such a thing existed. I waited for her answer.

"I really hadn't planned on going this year," she finally said.

"But if someone asked you to go, you might?"

It took a moment for her to answer.

Hermione stared at me with a jaded expression. "You're going somewhere with this that is either going to make me nauseous or petrified beyond the coherent thought, aren't you? Spill it..."

Just two days ago I couldn't envision myself even contemplating about it, but unexpectedly there I was, listening to myself as I spoke the magic words.

"Look, you're Head Girl, and I'm Head Boy... you don't have a date; I don't have one. Let's just go so we don't look like imbeciles."

She looked at me as if I had just told her that I was Veggiemort, Dark Lord of the Cabbage People. Not that I really could blame her...if she had asked me at that point in time, I'd have thought someone had slipped drugs into her pumpkin juice.

"Too belated for that, Malfoy," she replied snootily.

"Well, you want to attend or not, Mudblood?"

Granger paused and looked way, but I saw the commencement of a smirk forming on her face, then she turned back around to face me, trying to keep her face orderly.

"I deduce it might be better than sitting in the common room unaccompanied, but not to a great extent," she finally answered. "Only because we're Head Boy and Girl though, but still only on two conditions."

I took a deep breath, hoping it wasn't something too awful. I was not prepared to disgrace myself, just for the sake of her being my date.

"I won't pole dance for you. I only do that when I need the funds, not that I will ever need any!"

Hermione disregarded the statement, pretending she hadn't heard it. "You are not permitted to start chasing my skirt afterwards and the name is Hermione, not Granger or Mudblood or any other remark you come up with."

I scowled at her and spat, "Don't you desire, Granger? Er..."

"Say it..."

"Hermione... I mean."