Generation X – Spring Term
Part Five - Party at Parkinson Park
A/N: Well… here it is, after an inhumanly long wait. I could go on about how difficult it is to write as a team when you are both very busy, and how many hours we spent writing this part, but no-one likes whiny authors, so I won't… ^^;; To be honest, we have so much fun writing this that we don't mind how long it takes. Anyway, we apologise for taking so long, and hope the end result was worth waiting for. Do enjoy, and remember to tell us what you thought! We love your reviews ^_~ Aurora and Drosera.
Blaise took a deep drag on his cigar and almost choked. Trying to hide this, he coughed discreetly and said quickly,
"So, er... let's get this underway, shall we?"
There were murmurs of agreement from the other 'Young Death Eaters' gathered in the large drawing room of Parkinson Park. All the adult members were at Malfoy Manor 60 miles away and would be gone for the entire weekend. They had the lavish 17th century house to themselves. Unfortunately, they were not in a position to take advantage of the situation - there was work to be done and important matters to be discussed.
"Boring, boring, boring!" Pansy muttered to herself under her breath.
"Pansy, will you please try and concentrate?" Draco pleaded. "This won't last for long, I promise."
Pansy fixed him with a recalcitrant look and went back to filing her nails. Draco sighed. Blaise yawned and began to carve his initials into a beautiful French antique bridge table.
*
It was evening. Across the vast dewy lawns of Parkinson Park, hundreds of feet were padding silently. Well, almost silently.
"This is gonna be blindin', mate!" Lee said loudly. Lots of giggles and whispers of "shhh!" followed. Moments later, there was a loud expectoration as Justin's long-suffering drum kit was dropped heavily, the bass smashing an antique sundial and two cymbals rolling noisily down the rockeries. There was muffled swearing from the rest of the 7th years carrying various other musical instruments.
At the front of the group, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself. Her almost non-existent dress looked fantastic, but wasn't so great at keeping out the cold of the February evening. It was two weeks now since the incident with Lee, and she was still furious at him. But she did miss having someone to strut around with, and though she had been on the lookout ever since she'd dumped him she hadn't yet found a suitable replacement. Oh, well. She was sure that wouldn't last for long.
Harry, too, was alone. Cho was on holiday for the whole of half term, and hadn't been able to attend the impromptu gatecrashing. Word had got round like lightning on the last day of term, and it seemed every student in the fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth year had decided to turn up. Further on, he could see Fred and George lugging heavy crates of beer, stepping clumsily on the garden's finest flora as they did so. Alicia and Katie were chattering excitedly behind them.
But he wasn't exactly going to be sitting on his own in a corner... his entire 'posse' were there.
"I'm gonna pick me up a chick and score, I am!" Ron told nobody in particular. Surveying his friend's baggy, slightly stained T-shirt and too-short trousers, Harry thought this was highly unlikely, but he kept quiet. Dean, however, was not so subtle.
"Don't fuckin' think so, mate. You look fuckin'... fuckin' skanky, you do."
"Shudddup!" Ron said, blushing furiously. Ginny hadn't been on hand to advise him about his outfit, so he'd decided to come as he was. It wasn't his fault all his friends looked smarter than he did. Seamus had slicked back his curly hair and was wearing a freshly starched shirt. Harry, as always, looked a little scruffy, but he polished up well. Chicks loved it. And at least Dean had some decent brand names on. Ron cursed as a pebble got stuck in his cheap trainers. Darn. The duct tape must have fallen off again.
*
Draco shook Goyle awake indignantly. He was almost at the end of his epic speech about a change of uniform (blue just didn't do it for him) and his supposed 'best friend' had fallen asleep. Goyle grunted and blearily wiped his eyes. There were similarly glazed expressions on the faces of everyone else. He only had a few more lines, then the motion could be passed and they could all go to bed. It was only half past ten. These meetings really ruined your social life.
"So, to recapitulate, my policies are-"
BANG. A loud knock came at the door. Instantly everyone jerked upright, Pansy especially looking delighted at the prospect of some excitement at last. She started to get up to answer, but Draco sent her back to her chaise-lounge with a wave of his hand.
"It's nothing," he said through gritted teeth. "So, as I was saying-"
BANG. There it was again. Damn. Was he ever going to finish his speech? He'd already been holding forth on the same subject for twenty minutes. Taking the age-old approach that if he ignored it, it might go away, he tried again.
"All in favour, say aye."
SMASH! The leaded glass in the huge windows gave way with an almighty crash. Leaping to their feet, the Young Death Eaters looked on flabbergasted as what looked like half of Hogwarts came pouring through doors, windows and even ventilation shafts. In their arms came crates of beer, amplifiers, stereos, guitars, drums, microphones, bowls of snacks and even those little cocktail umbrellas. Draco whirled around to face his cohorts, his face even paler than usual.
"Which one of you did this?" he demanded. Guilty looks were exchanged, though Pansy still looked ready to explode with joy. Eventually, Blaise spoke up.
"I, er... I might have told a couple of people..."
Draco began to advance towards him. Blaise, though a good deal taller than the blond boy, visibly cowered, but without cause.
"Thankyou." Draco said, patting Blaise heartily on the back as a huge smile spread over his face.
*
Hermione teetered carefully across the thronging dance floor in her six-inch platforms, clutching a Tia Maria and trying not to spill any on her expensive new dress. Actually, it was Cho's. She hoped her friend wouldn't mind her 'breaking it in'. She had gained a lot of admiring glances, and so far was having a great time. The party was going to be a spectacular success. Her heart leaped when she saw Draco leaning against the bar on the other side of the room, and rapidly sunk again when she saw Pansy looking radiant beside him. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the pair as Draco tried to get Pansy to eat some of the Buffet. She kept wrinkling her nose and shaking her head, only agreeing to eat a dainty pastry when Draco put it in her mouth for her. Hermione had spent ages making those. It hardly seemed fair. Draco glanced in her direction. Hermione winked. He winked back almost imperceptibly, then looked away. She loved it when guys played it cool. Only usually around her, they didn't. She turned to face the table, which was groaning under the weight of so many delectable snacks. When Hermione organized a party, she did it properly. Pretending only to be taking a sip of her drink, she observed Draco's reflection in a dented old silver shield.
Just as I thought, Hermione thought, smiling widely. He's staring at my ass.
*
"So, what do you think?" Pansy prompted Draco. He didn't seem to be paying her his full attention.
"My God, it's... amazing. The way it curves is just... what were you saying?" he turned back to her looking lost. He looked very much as though he was trying to stop a smile creeping from the side of his mouth.
"You should listen to me properly, you silly boy," Pansy scolded playfully, "I was asking what you thought of my new dress." She indicated the lacy pink thing she was wearing.
"Oh, it's very...nice." Draco said absently, not even looking. "Look, I'll be back in a minute, okay?" He was about to set down his glass when Pansy grabbed his arm forcefully and began to pull him towards a large crowd.
"Fight! Fight!" she squealed. Wiping sherry away from where it had spilt on his white jeans, he looked up just in time to see two burly 7th years fall painfully through a window.
"You'll have to pay for that, you know!" Draco yelled weakly, before deciding he didn't care in the slightest.
*
Ginny upended another cocktail glass and swallowed it in one gulp. The amber liquid burned her throat and sent a pleasurable tingle down her spine. Giggling, she threw the dice again and through an alcoholic haze managed to ascertain that she had rolled another double. She certainly seemed to be losing this game badly. Lee helped another shot glass into her hand and she raised it to her lips. This one tasted bittersweet, and made her feel a little dizzy. She swayed dangerously, but was caught by his strong arm.
"Three doubles, darlin'!" Lee said, grinning. "You know what that means?"
"Yesh," Ginny slurred, "I have to take thish off as well, don't I?" Her semi-clad 5th year friends all cheered loudly as she removed a pair of pink knickers. Why she did this when she was still wearing both shoes, socks, a sweater and a T-shirt was anyone's guess. Lee didn't seem to mind. Ginny reeled as a bright flash and a click went off very close to her. Without wondering what it was, she staggered off mumbling something incoherent about having to 'warn the tooth fairy about the pink mushrooms'.
*
"Cheer up Harry, you wanker!"
"Thanks, Dean. You're really helping." Harry said flatly. It wasn't his fault he missed Cho so badly.
"Oy. I'm only saying it 'cos I care. Now, look at it this way - there are a lot of fine ladies here tonight. Get my drift?"
"Dean, if you think five minutes without my beautiful new girlfriend is going to make me desperate to cheat on her, you're sadly mistaken. I've only just patched things up with her after that bastard Lee successfully ruined our relationship a day after it properly started."
"Whatever. Just... don't look so fuckin' miserable. 'Ave a drink. It's on me."
Harry decided not to point out that seeing as drinks were free, it mattered very little that it was 'on him'.
"I'll just have an orange juice, thanks," he said to Dean, who wandered off in the direction of the bar saying something that sounded ominously like 'yeah, right.'
*
Alone again, Hermione poured herself another Tequila Sunrise. She was mixing her own drinks tonight, mainly because Ginny Weasley was warning enough against accepting one of Lee's cocktails. He and Blaise were taking it in turns behind the bar and both seemed to be enjoying themselves rather more than was healthy.
Who could she go and talk to? Perhaps it was a sign of just how lonely she actually was that she was resorting to alcohol to pick her spirits up. Lee was a shit, but at least he was company. The fact that she could easily have almost any male in the place didn't improve her mood much. The only two she didn't fancy her chances with were Neville and Ernie, who were currently singing karaoke to 'Hot Stuff' accompanied by the 7th year band, who were on very good form this evening. However, her mood took a definite upturn when she saw Justin Finch-Fletchley standing alone by the Buffet. Now at least I won't look totally sad, she thought as she made her way over to him. Waving energetically and flashing a dazzling smile, she was pleased to see him smile back.
"Justin, hi! I haven't seen you for, like, ages. How are y-"
She was cut short as Cammy Mirlinu swept past and took the boy's arm, looking innocently pretty as usual. So it was her that Justin's smile had been directed at. She should have known they'd be here together. Ever since Cammy had joined Hogwarts, the two of them had got along really well. It was sickening, as was the feeling of disappointment Hermione was experiencing. Even Justin had a date. Hermione sat down, feeling weak. It was at the same time that she realized that Cammy's eager strides had had the unfortunate effect of knocking her drink out of her hand, leaving a horrible tequila-sunrise-coloured stain right along the front of Hermione's - or rather Cho's - formerly pure white dress.
"BITCH!" Hermione yelled at Cammy's retreating back. The Peruvian whore didn't even stop to apologize. It was a while since Hermione had felt ready to cry. It wasn't something she wanted to experience again any time soon. She needed to cheer herself up, and fast. Sulking, she pulled her wand out from her handbag and began to trace it through the air. Bitching was something that usually loved company, but Hermione was perfectly good at it on her own. She instantly felt better as in pink sparkly foot-high lettering she wrote CAMMY G. MIRLINU IS A WHORE. CAMMY IS A SLUT. CAMMY IS A SLAG. I HATE CAMMY MIRLINU. Childish, but fun. Then, taking the letters of Cammy's name, she began to rearrange them in a variety of amusing ways. Harry had told her about Tom Riddle's name, and she wondered if she could pull off something similar with Cammy's. Hopefully it would be something along the lines of I am a hairy slut who belongs in a Taiwanese brothel. But there wasn't quite enough letters for that.
Within a few minutes she'd come up with a few good ones. Like I'M GAY. And I'M UGLY. But they didn't use up all of the letters. Another five minutes of effort and she was feeling much better, especially after she came up with the masterful I'M MR. UGLY MANIC. Ha. That'll show her, Hermione thought, grinning. Well, it won't, but it'll sure cheer me up to tell Harry. Now she was tiring of this game. Just one more... oh. That was a stunning coincidence. Oh, well. It's probably nothing.
Her ponderings over the strange conundrum were interrupted by loud laughing shrieks from Pansy's large swimming pool. She had to envy the girl's impressive manor house. A swim is just what I need, thought Hermione. And I've been dying to try out my new Christian Dior bikini...
*
The party was in full swing. Dean could hardly be heard above the noise of the band as he shouted across the bar to Blaise. Lee was in the far corner of the tremendously large room, filling a paddling pool with what looked suspiciously like very wet and sloppy mud. A badly worded sign propped next to it proclaimed,
come & have a go @ mud resseling only 5 knuts a time - free for topless girls
Dean very much doubted he'd get many customers. At least, not until a lot later on in the evening.
"I'LL HAVE AN ORANGE JUICE, MATE!" Dean yelled.
"ORANGE JUICE? YER FUCKIN' WIV ME, AIN'T YA?" Blaise replied.
"IT'S FOR HARRY!" Dean shouted back. Blaise rolled his eyes and searched for a clean glass. Finding one that only had some funny black stuff encrusted on the bottom, he filled it with orange juice and handed it over. Dean was about to walk back to Harry, but the sight of his friend with his head buried in his hands was too much for him. Turning back to the bar, he poured away half of the juice and replaced it with what was likely to be a lethal concoction of vodka, bacardi and something pink that later turned out to be Window Cleaner. It was still vaguely orange. Carrying the tumbler back to Harry, he put the drink into his hand and took a seat.
"Er, Dean? Are you sure this is orange juice?" Harry said, eyeing the glass (which was steaming slightly) suspiciously.
"It's juice, innit? And it's orange. What the fuck else is it gonna be?"
Unable to fight Dean's indefatigable logic, Harry raised the glass.
"Cheers."
*
Late afternoon sunlight fell through the blinds of Parvati's room. In his cot, Ranjit was sound asleep. His small chest rose and fell rhythmically, his tiny hands clenching and unclenching on the white wooly blanked covering him. Smiling down at him, Parvati stood up and drew the curtains across. Looking after a baby was incredibly hard work, but this... this made it all worth it. She slipped out of the room and closed the door silently behind her. In the sitting room, Padma lay reading on the sofa. Parvati sat next to her, closing her eyes and enjoying the unusual quiet. However, it did not last for long. The telephone rang shrilly. Not wanting Ranjit to wake, Parvati sprang up to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Hi. Is that Parvati?"
"Yes, speaking. Lavender?"
"Yeah. Um, hi. I was just thinking... did you hear about the party?"
"What party?"
"The one I'm on the way to at the moment. Look, I'm nearby, and I just thought... you don't want to come, do you?"
"Oh, Lavender, I'd love to, but... I can't, really, can I?"
"I've asked Mum. You can stay with us afterwards. It doesn't start 'til 10:30, but that gives us time to go shopping first."
Silence.
"You can ask Padma to baby-sit," Lavender pushed.
Parvati thought for a moment. Then she smiled. After all, you were only 17 once. "Okay."
*
Hermione stepped out of the poolhouse where she had just got changed and out onto the crowded poolside. It was late now, and the sky was pitch black. Small, mulitcoloured lanterns bedecked the trees, and pretty reflections glimmered on the water. Though the night was cold, the water was very warm and wisps of steam drifted gently on the breeze. Couples were lounging in deckchairs, large groups of boisterous boys were drenching each other, girls giggled and chattered. The music from the house was so loud it could still be heard here outside.
Her new black bikini didn't leave much to the imagination and clung to every one of her voluptuous curves. She had already heard some appreciative whistles. Hmm... how to make a dramatic entrance...? Ah. That would be perfect. Being a solitary figure wasn't always a bad thing. It meant everyone's attention was focused on her and her alone as she gracefully ascended the tall ladder up to the diving board. Twenty feet up, she looked down at the sparkling, dark water. It really was a long way down... She could see Ron's hair, a small patch of vibrant orange, right below her. It would make a good target.
Hermione considered herself to be a woman of the world. What she hadn't already tried, she could usually fake convincingly enough. Diving couldn't be that difficult, could it? Lifting her arms above her head, she balanced herself on the edge of the board. Only slightly nervous, she lifted onto her tiptoes and leapt into the air. Pulling in her legs and tucking herself up, she rolled neatly over in the air before straightening out and planning to knife into the water. However, what she hadn't anticipated was that the water would be so goddam near. Okay, so I guess on the Olympics they might go from a little higher that twenty feet... trying to salvage the situation, Hermione put her arms over her face and flailed her legs wildly in the vain hope it might prevent her messy and painful death.
"And so he said to him," Ron said, reaching the end of a very long and detailed joke which personally he found hilarious every time, "Great things happen to those who - oh, no wait. No, no, that's wrong. Can I start again?"
Deathly silence prevailed. Ron realized nobody was listening to him. Looking up, he saw why. The worst thing was that he didn't even have time to appreciate the fact that he could see right the way up Hermione's bikini top.
SPLASH!
Hermione hit the water at full tilt, limbs still windmilling. OW! That really hurt. When the initial shock of the incredible pain was over, she had time to consider the consequences. Okay, so that was the singularly most embarrassing thing you've ever done in your life. You still looked amazing. Ignore the pain. Ignore the fact that you feel as though you've just swallowed 20 litres of water. And work it, baby!
And she pushed off from the bottom of the pool, breaking the surface and lifting her arms triumphantly skywards with a slightly dazed but still dazzling smile. Thunderous applause greeted her, everyone looking admiringly at the 'daredevil.' That... could have been worse, Hermione thought. My God, I love being me.
*
Draco gripped his wineglass, staring up at the lithe creature who was plummeting through the air with alarming speed. God, she's amazing, he thought, marveling at how she could move her limbs with such co-ordination. She must be a pro!
Pansy had vanished off somewhere, and Draco was, unusually, left to his own devices. Stretching languorously on his sunlounger, his eyes followed Hermione's rapid descent. Is that a Christian Dior bikini? It certainly fits her remarkably well. SMASH. His wineglass shattered in his hand as he got a rather impressive view of the said bikini... and its inhabitant. Boy, was he glad he'd picked a deckchair right under the diving board. As she hit the surface of the pool, water splashed everywhere, including right into Draco's lap and over his immaculate hair. Darn. Oh, well. He needed another drink anyway. He could come back and enjoy Hermione's company in the pool later. Pushing his sopping hair out of his eyes, Draco went to find a change of clothes.
*
Harry saw stars. They were very pretty... but should they really be dancing round Dean's head like that?
"Haz, are you okay?"
"Yeah..." Harry said, vaguely. "Where are those stars from?"
"Fuck. Harry, I think you'd better lie down."
"But I don't want to... I feel really light and floaty."
"He's on a voyage to trip out city and no mistake," Dean muttered to Blaise, who too was looking concerned.
"Just give him a minute," Blaise advised. "It's the bicycle oil...takes a while to kick in."
"Bicycle oil?!" Dean exclaimed, "What the fuck'd you put that in for?"
"I didn't... I just found out what that black stuff was that was encrusted on the glass I gave him."
They waited. Harry involuntarily did lay on the floor, where he proceeded to giggle and insist to the general public that he was, in fact, Maria Von Trapp. Just when Blaise was looking really worried, Harry snapped out of it.
"Suddenly I feel like I... like I want to strut my funky stuff!"
"That's more fuckin' like it!" Dean said happily. The desired effect had been achieved. Harry got to his feet, suddenly possessed of a manic energy. A reasonable sized crowd was gathering, and the 7th year band suddenly took a break from the mainstream of the evening's repertoire and launched into 'Night Fever.' Like a man possessed he began to 'boogie on down'. Fred and George had never looked prouder of Harry in their lives. He proceeded to sing his way through 'hits of the BeeGees', start a conga, grab a very worried-looking Alicia on her way to the pool and attempt to tango, and had even begun to teach Crabbe and Goyle to line-dance when his cocktail wore off and he collapsed onto the floor.
*
Boy, was Ginny smashed. She tottered through a corridor and pushed open a door. Nope, they certainly weren't the Tooth Fairy.
"Ooops. Shhorry," she slurred to whichever couple she had just interrupted. Parkinson Park had over 20 bedrooms, none of which contained the Tooth Fairy or any other kind of fantasy creature, unless you counted House Elves. But Ginny wasn't to know that. Stumbling back out into the corridor, she continued along it, hoping to find signs of life, or at least something else to drink.
At last - here she could hear loud, thumping music. There were little pixies, all around. Oooh. Why was this pixie trying to hold onto her? She struggled away, and collapsed right into an elf. Well, it was pale and blond and quite tall. Was it an elf? No, that was silly. It was obviously a giraffe.
"Kiss me," she said, closing her eyes and puckering her lips in the giraffe's direction.
Draco paused a moment, to fully take in the fact that Ginny was minus her trousers... and her underwear. Gently but firmly, he took her by the shoulders and looked for an appropriate candidate to palm her off onto. In a corner, slumped into a padded armchair, was a dark-haired kid who looked like he could use a bit of company.
"Kiss him," Draco instructed, pushing her away. Ginny laughed and fell happily onto the badger's lap. The badger lifted his head.
Harry was dimly aware that Ginny should probably be wearing rather more clothes that she was, and that she certainly shouldn't be doing that to his ear, but somehow was finding it very hard to resist.
"Come on," he said, pulling her into a nearby empty room. Ginny's legs buckled under her and she toppled onto the bed.
"Are you the Tooth Fairy?"
*
Parvati stepped over the threshold of the house and though momentarily that she was hallucinating. Almost instantly someone had put a drink into her hand, and all around her there was laughter, splashes, shrieks, highly inappropriate jokes and more exposed flesh than she'd ever seen in her life. This looked fun. As she watched, someone sprayed vast quantities of deodorant all over an ancient tapestry that was probably priceless before whipping out a lighter and sending it up in a whooosh of flame. With a jolt of half excitement and half absolute stomach churning terror, she began to mingle. It felt so good to have some time to herself, to see Lavender, to be a teenager with the appropriate lack of responsibility.
She and Lavender made their way over to the Bar and Buffet. Lavender was just piling up a plate with snacky pastries when Parvati dug her nails into her arm, hard.
"Ow! What is it?"
What it was became apparent and Blaise and Dean came sauntering over, both looking as uncomfortable as Parvati and Lavender felt. There was a moment of embarrassing silence before Blaise nudged Dean, gesturing in the direction of 'away'. Lavender, too, took the hint, and made sure to grab Dean's arm and attempt to engage him in conversation before dragging him over to where the band were playing.
Parvati and Blaise stood facing each other.
"Hi," they both said at once.
"How are you?" Parvati asked.
"Fine."
"You?"
"Fine."
More silence. Parvati decided that actions speak louder than words. She could see from his face that he needed to talk as much as she did. Stepping closer to him and standing on tiptoes, she planted a chaste kiss on his cheek and linked her arm through his. They made their way out to the ornamental gardens, both still unsure of each other, but knowing that one way or another, they would sort this out.
*
Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones walked nervously up the gravel drive to the large and imposing house. Clutching a balloon, a multi-pack of orangeade and some party poppers, Hannah raised a podgy fist and rapped on the door. She could hear loud music, splashes and screaming coming from within. Anxiously, they waited. Susan coughed. After a minute, the door was opened by Draco Malfoy.
"Hello?" he said, looking at the ugly pair in distaste and praying they weren't some kind of twisted strippergram.
"We're here for the party?"
"Er...no, sorry. There's no party here." Draco said, trying to look nonplussed. Unfortunately the effect was rather spoilt as Dean charged up and shoved a Lime Bacardi Breezer into his hand, slapping him on the back with a cry of,
"Quick, mate. George is fuckin' goin' for third base with Katie, in front of everyone!" before hurrying off again.
"Weird!" Draco said nonchalantly, looking over his shoulder in apparent surprise at this intrusion. "Try the house down the road."
Hannah and Susan, looking slightly bemused, turned to look for the nearest house. When they turned back, the door was firmly closed.
"We'd better start walking," Susan said. They set off into the darkness.
*
Ron was dying for a piss. However, he was still in the pool, and enjoying a riveting conversation with Alicia Spinett. She was lapping up his spectacular jokes. She had tried swimming away a few times (the little minx, Ron thought affectionately) and even pleaded with him to let her go back to her friends. Girls, eh? They always played 'hard to get.' The last thing he wanted was to ruin the mood. I should get out, he thought. It's probably not very hygienic. But he was now at the agonizing stage where movement of any kind was bound to cause a severe accident anyway. Better in the pool than out, he reasoned, enjoying the blissful feeling as he emptied his bladder. However, his relief was mightily short lived. Within seconds, the screaming started. Ron knew the sick feeling of utter embarrassment better than most - his lifetime so far had contained more than its fair share. But he was totally unprepared for what was to happen next.
Shit. Ron realized from the growing purple area spreading through the water around his groin that the water in the swimming pool had been impregnated with a chemical. This particular chemical was one that reacts with urine to guarantee shame and ridicule for any fool who decides to dirty the water.
Alicia waded away at top speed, shrieking that Ron had pissed himself. Roars of laughter echoed around the pool as people scrambled to climb out of the befouled water. It was probably best for him to get out of the water now. Maybe they'd even think it was someone else! His devious scheming amazed even himself sometimes. He clambered out swiftly, but it didn't have the desired effect. If anything, the laughter only intensified. Looking down, Ron realized why.
Double shit. His cheap, white bathing trunks had gone utterly and completely see-through. He could see Hermione clutching her sides, bent almost double with laughter. Alicia, Angelina and Katie were holding onto each other and looked ready to collapse with mirth.
Triple shit. It was then that Ron noticed what everyone else had noticed, the thing which would guarantee him the nickname of 'boner-boy' until he was at least thirty. It seemed that talking to Alicia had... affected him. Literally. Trying to salvage the tatters that remained of his reputation by covering himself with his hands, Ron took the only option left to him. He ran.
*
Ginny squirmed as Harry's hands explored the exciting realms under her sweater.
"That tickles!" she murmured, but her voice was muffled by the pillow her face was buried in. Rolling over, she raised her lips to his and closed her eyes blissfully. She was glad that the badger had turned out to be Harry. It was a new and exciting development.
Ginny's lips tasted sweet and alcoholic. Harry had the dim sense that what he was doing was wrong, possibly very wrong, but it all added to the thrill. Clasping her slim body tightly in his arms, he deftly slipped off her thin pullover, then lifted her tight T-shirt over her head. Loving the feel of her skin on his, he pulled her closer, his responsibility and morals all vanishing in a delightful and overwhelming instant.
*
Hermione clambered out of the pool, shaking out her dripping hair and then falling luxuriously onto one of the cushioned sunloungers. Things were definitely starting to look up; she'd spent the last twenty minutes flirting outrageously with a cute 7th year Ravenclaw and recounting her dramatic dive experience to all and sundry. To top it all, she had just glimpsed Cammy and Justin climbing out of the pool and slinking off. The Peruvian girl's bathing suit was, like, covering way too much of her, and was unflattering in the extreme. And... eeeew! She hadn't even taken the trouble to shave her armpits. Yuck. That bastard Justin was suited to her perfectly.
Scanning the poolside lazily, she suddenly spied something which aroused her interest. In the middle of a group of Slytherin bitches, Pansy Parkinson seemed to be telling a very funny story. Listening intently, Hermione soon ascertained that it wasn't a story that was causing them to giggle helplessly, but rather a poor and inaccurate impression... of her.
"Oh, look at me, look at me! Look at my tits! I'm easy! I'm Granger, the number one slut in the whole wide world!"
Had Hermione been anyone else, she probably would have either exploded with rage or burned with shame. However, she did neither of the two. Pretending she had not heard, she slipped on a pair of sunglasses, feigning repose. A few minutes later, Pansy left the group of wittering girls and walked past Hermione without noticing her. Very quietly, Hermione stood up and began to follow her. She had to time this just right for maximum effect.
The blond girl was wearing a bikini which was, if it was possible, even smaller than Hermione's. Being petite, and incredibly thin, Pansy got away with the two scraps of pink fabric she was wearing. The top was a strapless, and was only held on by a clasp at the back. Perfect! Pansy was standing right by the double doors leading inside, meaning that crowds gathered both inside and outside would have a good view of what was to come. A few well-chosen words and a complicated flick of the wand later and Pansy's haute couture bikini top was around her ankles.
"Oh my God! What is that slut Pansy, like, doing?! This is a public place!" Hermione said indignantly, hoping to throw everyone off the scent as to who was responsible. Pansy, though, had no doubt as to who had been the cause of her embarrassment.
"I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS, YOU WHORE! THIS TIME I SWEAR YOU WON'T GET AWAY WITH IT, YOU UGLY, SCABROUS BITCH..."
"Me a whore? Don't you know the meaning of propriety? If you don't mind me saying, I'm not the one exposing myself!" Hermione retaliated. Pansy had kicked off her top from around her ankles. Covering herself up was obviously not a priority now. She was charging at Hermione, who, seeing this, darted inside. More shrieks and catcalls greeted Pansy as she gave chase. Taking refuge behind a trestle table, Hermione had time to regain her breath. Pansy assessed the situation for a moment before grabbing vol-au-vents and hurling a barrage of them at her arch-nemesis.
"I don't see why you're so popular. Why would anyone sleep with you? You're ugly. You've probably got fleas, you brazen little hussy!"
Time for the killer blow.
"Draco didn't seem to have a problem with me. Or my 'fleas.'" Hermione knew this was a bit harsh, but she had been asking for it. Draco blushed, partly with pride, but mainly because he was overcome by two beautiful girls fighting at least partially over his attentions.
There was a collective 'oooooh!' from the crowd. Ron gave a cry of,
"Bitchfight!" which seemed to send Pansy into a frenzy of rage.
"DIE!" And taking Hermione completely by surprise, Pansy crashed through the trestle table, sending pastries flying, and cannoned into her, sending them both flying right into Lee's mud-wrestling arena. (Well, it was more the size of a paddling pool. He hadn't been able to afford the full-size one.) The boy's face lit up with delight as two semi-naked babes started hurling mud at each other. It had quickly degenerated into and out-and-out catfight. Pansy yelled as Hermione grabbed a huge chunk of her hair and tugged it as hard as she possibly could. She retaliated by digging her teeth into Hermione's shoulder and aiming a weak punch at her stomach.
"Contending for 'bitch of the year,' Granger?" Pansy spat.
"Why? Afraid I'll steal your title?" And she dug her nails into Pansy's face.
Once the initial shock had worn off, Lee realized that a potential for profit-making had presented itself to him.
"Oy, Granger! You're not topless, love. That'll be 5 knuts, if ya don't mind."
This problem was immediately solved by Pansy grabbing the front of Hermione's designer bikini and ripping it off.
"Have you any idea how much that cost?!" Hermione screeched, grabbing Pansy by the shoulders and forcing her whole head into the mud. After a few seconds, Pansy went limp. Hermione let go. She didn't like the girl, but she didn't want to drown her. 'Death by Lee's dodgy scheme' was not a nice way to go. But her concern was ill-founded. Pansy reared up and dived on Hermione, pausing only to remark that the mud 'tasted like a bloody urinal.' Dean inexplicably coughed and became very involved in choosing a nice-looking miniature quiche.
"I don't know where to look," one of Ginny's friends muttered, blushing furiously and seriously re-assessing her morals.
"Cor... I do!" Lee said, whistling appreciatively as Hermione grabbed Pansy in a headlock and with her free hand rubbed a handful of gunk into Pansy's sheet of blonde hair. The girls continued to grapple in the confines of the small plastic pool.
"This is the best party I've ever been to!" Ron cried, his jaw almost on the floor.
It could be described as lucky that they were interrupted at that moment, as both girls looked ready to kill each other by this time. A white-faced and trembling Ernie Macmillan burst in and screamed at the top of his voice,
"JUSTIN FINCH-FLETCLEY IS DEAD!"
There was totally pure silence for the first time since the house had been empty early that morning. Pansy and Hermione let go of each other's hair in disbelief. Not one person spoke, all too shocked to say a word. The band held their instruments as though they didn't know what to do with them. It was a surreal moment.
A sad procession of the bravest undertook the expedition to the third floor where they found Justin crumpled on the floor. His face was lifeless, his limbs hanging limply at his sides. Hermione put a hand to her mouth in shock. Even Lee looked sobered. Dean kicked the floor angrily.
"Shit." Was his only remark. The group were unsure what to do. Katie Bell eventually stepped forward, tentatively lifting Justin's wrist and holding it with the two fingers on her right hand. All eyes were fixed on her face, which was so pale her freckles had disappeared. Then she smiled weakly.
"Not dead. Unconscious." She managed, before bursting into tears of relief. The tension broke.
"YES! YES! He's not dead! I knew it! I told you, didn't I? I'm so happy!" Then, realizing the situation was still serious, Draco shut up.
"Insurance purposes only, of course," he muttered, blushing.
*
Harry was wracked with guilt. His whole body felt... sullied. He felt cruel... evil. He looked down at Ginny, who was sleeping peacefully, and another wave of self-disgust swept over him. How could he have been so stupid as to wreck his chances with two of his favourite girls at once? Ginny was like a sister to him! And Cho... he had been so happy to patch things up with her, and now it would have all been for nothing. What he wanted was to forget... and there was only one way to do that. Stepping silently out of the room so as not to wake the slumbering girl, he padded down the hallway towards the direction of the loud music, which was now back on and playing at full volume. Blaise grinned at him from behind the bar, and winked. Harry didn't grin back, but asked for the strongest thing he could get. Blaise was all too happy to oblige; he'd been dying to try out his new concoction... toilet cleaner, Scotch, Southern Comfort and, inexplicably, creamed tofu.
"This isn't totally lethal, is it Blaise?" Harry asked. He wouldn't put anything past the long-haired lunatic.
"Nah, mate. Safe as houses. You could give it to your grandmother! And you'll get your eyesight back in two days. Guaranteed!"
Harry looked at it and crossed himself fervently before raising it to his lips and gulping it down.
*
Draco dropped his shirt into the laundry basket in one of Parkinson Park's numerous walk-in bathroom closets and wrapped a fluffy white towel around his waist. The steam from the shower he was running humidified the room and left a damp sheen on his bare skin. He was just about to exit the closet and step under the water when a pair of feet pattered past and dived in before he could get there. Because of the condensation on the glass walls of the cubicle, it was impossible to see who was inside.
"Hey, you! Get out of my shower!"
There was no response.
"Who is that? I said get out!"
This time by means of reply a pair of sodden, muddy, extra small Christian Dior bikini bottoms came sailing over the top of the shower and landed at his feet with a plop.
Draco drew in his breath sharply, picking up the article of clothing and inspecting them closely. My god... what to do?
"When you've finished perving at my panties, Malfoy, I suggest you get lost. I have mud in places I didn't even know I had. I need this shower a lot more than you do."
Draco yelped and the black item slipped from his fingers. A totally naked, mud-smeared Hermione was poking her head out of the door and looking at him sternly, her face half amused and half accusing.
"But I was in here first!" Draco whined petulantly.
"Then it's my turn now."
"But...but-"
"Jeez, it's not like it's got your name on it or anything!"
"Ahem." Draco pointed to the small monogram engraved on the golden handle of the cubicle. He stayed at Parkinson Park frequently, and they did have twenty bathrooms.
"Well, maybe it does. But I'm not moving."
"Fine," Draco said recklessly. It was worth a try. "Then I'll just have to come in there with you."
Hermione raised a slim eyebrow.
"Please yourself."
Looks like I won't have to, Draco thought, grinning as he dropped the towel and stepped under the warm jets of water.
Hermione let the near-scalding liquid fall over her shoulders, cleansing her hair and running in rivulets down her bare, suntanned back. She was choosing for the moment to ignore the fact that she was standing stark naked centimetres away from a similarly clad young man who was beginning to dribble with lust at the sight of her. She was not able to blank him out for long, though. He made his presence very much felt by inching his hand towards a rather inappropriate place.
"Drac-oh!" she gasped, slapping his hand away from where it was touching her but only looking mildly affronted. She wanted to take this slowly... it was always more fun that way. And there was still a lot of the night left... it was only 2 a.m...
"Look... but don't touch," she teased, closing her eyes again as she turned her face up to the falling droplets.
"Don't touch?" He said incredulously. "Granger, you're gorgeous. It's like going to a petting zoo where there's a sign saying 'don't pet the goats.' Boy, do you gotta pet 'em!"
"But I'm not a goat, am I, Draco?"
Damn, thought Draco. She'd beaten him in their 'battle of wits' again. Time to try a different approach.
"They don't call me 'magic fingers Malfoy' for nothing, you know..." He smiled suggestively. Hermione looked at him condescendingly.
"No. They don't call you that at all."
Draco gave up the smarmy act and laughed.
"Maybe not, but I'm hoping they might after this escapade." He still looked hopeful.
"Well... you could give me a free trial," she murmured. "I could, you know... spread the word about a bit...?"
She sighed with pleasure as he began to run his soapy hands over her back. But.. something was niggling at the back of her mind. She couldn't quite put her finger on it... oh well. Nothing to worry about, she was sure.
"Now it's your turn," Hermione said silkily. She turned round to face him and allowed him to brush her lips with his before turning him around and starting to soap his back.
For someone so slender, he's quite muscular... Hermione mused as she massaged his shoulders. She had to reach up to him, being shorter than the blond boy.
"How are... things?" she whispered.
"Things?"
"Yeah. Like... school."
"Oh... very, um... hard."
Hermione had to stifle a giggle.
"I can imagine. You're very tense." It was true - every muscle in his back was rigid. She continued to rub his fair skin.
The elusive thought was surfacing. It was on the tip of her tongue... Ooooh. Now she remembered!
"Gotta go!" she said suddenly, slipping out of the shower with more than a little reluctance and rapidly drying herself with Draco's towel.
Memo to self: Keep towel forever, Draco had time to think as he stared after her.
"Why are you going? Where are you going?"
She ransacked the closet, grabbing something that would make her at least half-decent and throwing it on. Then she realized she was wearing a pair of pantaloons. There is a time and a place for these. But... now was definitely not it. Ripping them off, she pulled on some miniscule underwear and rummaged around until she found something more suitable. She emerged from the closet wearing an incredibly short bronze minidress, which reflected the candlelight and complemented her figure and her tanned complexion perfectly. Kicking her feet into some high-heeled gold slingbacks and shaking out her hair, she sent a regretful glance back at Draco before pushing open the door and hurrying out.
"You can't do that to a guy!" Draco yelled after her, bitterly disappointed. He knew he should go and see what she was up to. This had better be worth it, he thought mutinously, turning the dial on the shower firmly onto 'cold.'
*
"And I-I-I-yyy will always looooovvve yooooooou..." A drunken 5th year girl who was waving her underwear over her head and clutching a bottle of Martini warbled into the microphone.
"Out of the way, loser!" Hermione said, shooing the girl away with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Okay, everyone! Listen up." There was cheering. Hermione was slightly irritated. This was serious. "I'm addressing you on a matter of great importance. It is vital that you pay careful attention because-"
"She's gonna do the Full Monty!" yelled some ugly boy who was grinning at her inanely. She fixed him with a special look of disgust before continuing.
"Because there is someone in our midst who is not who you believe them to be." Pausing for dramatic effect, she was again annoyed when Seamus yelled,
"They've found you out, Ron! Now everyone knows you're a transvestite!"
"Shut up!" Ron yelped from where he was trying to be inconspicuous. He was still burning with embarrassment from the incident earlier.
"Look, just SHUT THE HELL UP and let me FINISH!" Hermione screamed.
"C-A-M-M-Y-G-M-I-R-L-I-N-U," she said out loud as she traced the letters in the air with her wand. The large pink letters hung there shimmering. Those who hadn't been paying attention before definitely were now.
"I knew there was something fishy about that girl right from the minute she had the audacity to walk into our school. And what do you know? I was right. If you rearrange the letters of that little whore's name, this is what you get," Hermione said, a note of triumph in her voice. A flick of her wand made the letters rearrange themselves.
I-N-C-A M-U-M-M-Y G-I-R-L
Complete silence reigned. Everyone was quiet. Then Lee broke the silence by laughing very loudly. This prompted everyone else to burst into raucous cackling at Hermione's apparent insanity.
"Yeah," Seamus giggled, "And my name rearranges into I'M INSANE ANGUS F. Did you know that?"
"Cor, you've 'ad too much to drink, love!" Lee chortled. "Yer off yer rocker, darlin'!"
Standing in front of two hundred people who were all laughing at her was not a nice experience. But luckily, Hermione had courage in her convictions. She knew it was rather implausible that her main rival for attention had seemingly been disguising her secret identity as an undead princess for half the term, especially when last month Hermione had insisted to anyone who would listen that Angelina was, in fact, a banshee. But this time she was for real! And she'd be damned if these cretins were going to stop her from proving it.
"Remember that freaky Nvurek thing? How on earth did she know how to kill it? And that scary thing with her eyes... and the lightning? I've read the books, I've done the research. And that is not the sort of thing they teach in Peruvian schools. That is serious dark magic! I'm Hermione! I'm always right! Remember?" There was a desperate note in her voice now.
"All I remember was how jealous of her you were!" Seamus called. Hermione seethed. You little bastard! How come she'd never noticed how much of a twat he was before?
"Cammy was with Justin tonight!" Hermione yelled, hoping to restore silence. "You all saw them together. And then the next thing we know, Justin is unconscious and left for dead! Has anyone seen her since? Have you?"
Suddenly it went very quiet.
"Yeah," said Neville, who was white as a sheet and seemed to be looking at something over Hermione's shoulder. "She's right... right behind you."
Hermione whirled around just in time to see Cammy's contorted face as she came charging towards her. She was holding a golden dagger in each hand, but it was not these fearsome weapons that Hermione needed to worry about. The Mummy's skin was papery and scabrous, hanging off of her bones in washed-out grey flakes and strips. Her teeth were mossy and bared in a grimace, and where her eyes should have been there were only sockets. Hermione would have screamed if she had any air left in her lungs. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. Paralysed by fright, she could put up no resistance as the Inca Princess grabbed her arms in a vice like grip and clamped their mouths firmly together. EEW. EEEW. EEEEEEEWW! I'm going to be in therapy until I'm thirty! Besides, the girl just didn't know when to stop with the tongues. Hermione flailed her arms, hoping to find purchase on something. She wrapped her fingers into the mummy's lank, lifeless hair, but it only fell away in dusty clumps when she tugged at it. A most strange sensation threatened to overcome her. Dizzying and nauseating, she felt as though the very essence of herself, her life, was being dragged from her. It was a cold and aching sensation which began under her ribs, right at her heart. She could feel it, like ice, seeping through her bloodstream. Was this it? The end of Hermione Granger? She had expected something like her life to flash before her eyes, but nothing of that sort seemed to be happening. She opened her eyes. The massive noise in the room had sunk to nothing more than a low hum, a background sound. Her vision was blurred, and everything seemed very far away. Why wasn't anyone coming to rescue her? Anyone would do... so long as he was good looking, and a bit sulky. Designer shoes, and a pair of incredibly tight... SWWOOOOSH!
As though in slow motion an arc of gleaming silver split through the air with a sound that electrified her, and embedded itself into the Mummy's back. The grip on Hermione's arms went limp, and the dry body fell to the floor. Everything was in white-out.
Hermione looked from the black boot planted firmly on the Mummy's corpse, up the long slender legs wrapped in familiar-looking tight leather, past the... oooh.... Over the chest with the tight black T-shirt that showed every taut muscle, and settled on the face of one Mr. Draco Malfoy. He looked stunning, and his long, tapered fingers were clasped around the hilt of an antique sword.
"What did I miss?" he quipped, before letting the sword clatter to the ground and a trembling Hermione collapse into his arms.
She lay for a long moment staring up at the way his silvery hair fell around his face.
Her vision was still blurred, and she was more than a little dizzy... but in this strange half light, she could have sworn he had a halo.
*
"Do you think we're nearly there?" Susan asked Hannah nervously as they walked along the roadside.
"We've - been *huff* walking - for - nearly *wheeze* five - hours!" Hannah gasped, clutching a stitch in her side. Unbeknownst to them, they had been walking in a very large circle and were just beginning a third lap of a densely wooded forest. The ground by the road was knee-deep in sludge and slick with rain. This was unfortunate, as a Large Delivery Vehicle chose that moment to come hurtling down the road with a loud roar, sending a tidal wave of muck right over the two hapless travelers as they frantically attempted to dive out of the way.
"My new top, ruined!" Hannah wailed, pulling her face out of a puddle. The skin-tight, fluorescent-orange T-shirt, which had once so proudly proclaimed the timeless epigram of 'Girls Rule', was now soaking wet and plastered to her abundant flab with copious amounts of mud. Susan's attire had been similarly marred by her painful collision with a pine tree.
"Oh, no!" Hannah moaned as she realized she was sitting on the Orangeade, which had split under her colossal weight. The foul, sticky liquid was seeping through her glittery pink poly-nylon trousers. Susan had dropped the multi-bag of 'Party Popperz', all of which met an untimely demise having been saturated to such an extent that they would never pop again.
The helium balloon could be seen drifting slowly and disconsolately skywards, eventually catching on a thorn-bush high above them and popping gently.
"Oh, well. Maybe it's this way..." Susan picked herself up and offered a bony hand to Hannah, who was still marooned in a puddle.
They started to walk again, both with the sneaking suspicion that yes, they had seen that particular tree before about an hour ago... hadn't they?
*
Pansy strode out of the bathroom just in time to see Draco catch Hermione in his arms.
This time the rage, bitterness and disappointment she felt when she saw her 'boyfriend' and her arch-enemy in an embrace was beyond what words or even shrieks could express. Silently, she pushed her way through the crowds and clambered onto the stage. Pansy stared across at Hermione. Hermione stared up at Draco. Draco was the only one who saw the knife, which sailed through the air right at him. He sidestepped. Cammy's dagger sliced past the side of his head tracing a shallow scratch across his pale cheekbone. The fingers he trailed across the graze came away stained red.
Pansy screamed. Draco ducked as the second dagger was hurled at him. It was a better aim this time, catching him across the shoulder and embedding itself deeply into his skin. He gritted his teeth as he pulled the golden blade out of his upper arm, falling backwards and clutching his wound tightly. His jaw was clenched with pain and a cold sweat was sticking his silver hair to his forehead.
Hermione was standing shakily, looking from the coldly furious Pansy to Draco on the floor to Cammy who was leering at her horribly. I'd do something... only I'm paralysed with fear! Hermione thought frantically. Suddenly, the Mummy lunged towards Pansy and pulled her into a lethal kiss. Pansy began to kick wildly, whimpering with fright. Hermione sympathised. She knew what it was like to be so close to death, and how the agonising icy tugging at her heart had pained her. Draco was staring at Pansy in alarm. He didn't think her parents would be very pleased if they came home to find their house in ruins and their only child deceased. Plus, there was the small matter that he did kind of, in a way... love her. He supposed. Although... he wasn't really into all that sort of soppy stuff. There would be time for that when he was older, and not quite so darned sexy.
Hermione regained control of her limbs and instantly took charge of the situation. Upending a table, she ripped of one of the heavy metal legs and ran at the Mummy which was crushing Pansy.
"This is for making my saviour bleed!"
She swung her dangerous weapon at Cammy's back and left a hefty dent.
"This is for Justin!"
She took another furious swipe, this time caving in Cammy's skull and breaking her feeble vertebrae. The dry head covered with dusty hair flew across the room and landed in the trifle.
Then, with a last tremendously powerful swing at Cammy's left side, Hermione sent the dry body sailing across the platform and onto a wheeled buffet trolley.
"And THAT'S for ME!" she screamed. Empowerment knew no other definition.
Only the Mummy's shriveled arms remained, the flaky stumps still clinging to Pansy. Taking one look at these horrific articles touching her skin, Pansy closed her eyes again and fell to the floor in a dead faint. Draco crawled over to her and made sure that she was still breathing, pulling the mummy's arms off of her and lifting her body into a chair.
Hermione drew deep and steady breaths, wiping the beads of perspiration from her forehead. She winked at Draco as she tugged down the hem of her bronze dress and stepped back into her sandals.
She supposed that maybe she should be reflecting quietly about her own mortality, but... that was no fun. She put her arms above her head and leapt into the air, crying triumphantly,
"Alright! I win! Hermione Granger 1, bitch Mummy nil! Yeah! I kicked her bitch ass!"
Even those who had disbelieved her at first were cheering now. Draco looked over at her and grinned in admiration. Impulsively, she skipped over to Draco and leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.
"And I guess you helped, too... a bit," she whispered, delighting him by kissing his nose and trailing a finger down his spine.
"Yeah... you could say that," Draco replied weakly. "If you wouldn't mind, though... my arm kind of... hurts..."
"Oh, God! I'm sorry. I totally forgot. Here, let me get that." She tore a long strip of bronze from the already indecently short hem of her dress and wound it tightly around his arm.
"That should be okay, for now. I'll see to it properly...later." Her message was clear. Draco beamed.
"I'll look forward to it."
Just as the crowd seemed to be settling again, the impressive Grandfather Clock rather obscurely struck a marathon sixty-eight chimes in ten seconds before opening in a sinister way and revealing its contents to be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Horace Latchkopf. The large trifle which had earlier been the recipient of Cammy's head yielded his partner, Boris Rottinoff.
"You?!" said Hermione. "What are you doing here?" Jeez. It always got bad when teachers turned up.
"Ve are here because of her!" they said in unnecessary unison, pointing to what remained of Cammy's body. It was still on the trolley.
"Why?" Hermione asked, sounding sarcastic. "Was she late handing in homework?"
Boris explained further.
"Ve are not all zat ve seem. Ve haff, how you say, been pulling your foot. You haff been hoodlewinked by our clever disguises. For ve are in fact-" They pulled off their pinstriped suits to reveal a full-on black ensemble complete with a cape. Emblazoned across the chest was the acronym PIMSA.
"Like the outfits," Hermione said, looking genuinely concerned about their mental health. "What does PIMSA stand for?"
"Ve are the Peruvian Inca Mummy Spotter's Association," said Horace. "Ve haff been tailing 'Cammy' for many years. Vhen ve found out she vas coming to 'Ogvarts, ve got ze jobs there. But it seems ve vere too late to help you."
"We were managing just fine on our own, thanks," Hermione shot back. "One disgusting, wrinkly, decapitated mummy corpse on the house."
"Ja. You did very vell. But... did you know that if you had left her, in one hour she would gather herself back to full strength and regrow her lost body parts?"
"Er... no. And does that strike anyone else as... eeew?"
"Vell, it is true. Vill you allow us to...?" Horace gestured towards a complicated bit of machinery with flashing mulitcoloured lights, which Boris was attempting to set up.
"Yeah... sure." Unless Hermione was very much mistaken, the interesting looking contraption seemed to be playing a tinny version of the Peruvian National Anthem which sounded like all of its charm had been surgically removed.
"That looks like a... flame-thrower!" Hermione had to yell to make herself heard over the huge roar of the twenty-foot burst of fire engulfing the Mummy. The force of the weapon sent the trolley complete with flaming corpse smashing through the glass patio doors and trundling into the swimming pool where it ended its spectacular journey in a mass of steaming, hissing, twisted wreckage.
"Cool!" said Ron.
*
Hannah and Susan huddled closer still, hoping to generate more warmth by keeping their bodies closer together. It was very cold down in the muddy ditch where they had decided to spend the night. It seemed they would be missing the party they had been so looking forward to. Hannah had eaten all of their rations (which was only half a packet of mouldy Polos,) and now they had no food between them except a fluffy liquorice allsort which had been festering in the bottom of Susan's handbag since last Christmas. Hannah was even now eyeing it greedily.
The moon slid behind a dark cloud. From the depths of the forest (which was probably full of magical creatures, Susan thought, being on the Parkinson Estate. Or at least, I think that's where we are...) came the baying of hungry things. Things which might be very interested in eating live human flesh, especially when it came in a plentiful form like Hannah Abbot. It was pitch dark. Susan reached for the Liquorice Allsort, and was surprised to find it had mysteriously disappeared. Through the darkness she could hear the sound of munching. Then, a few seconds later, came Hannah's low and rumbling snores, which grated on her brain like a thousand knives being scraped together. It was going to be a long night...
*
Draco smoothed the covers over Pansy's slumbering form and slipped quietly out of the room, locking the door behind him with his wand. He had left a large pile of food by Pansy's bed and charmed it so that the door would only release her when she had eaten her way through the whole lot. Sometimes, you had to be cruel to be kind. Her attempted anorexia was prone to fail every time she got hungry, and he didn't usually have to worry. It was just that... after what she had been through, he wanted to make sure she got her strength back.
He had changed his 'action gear' for some smarter clothes, and was now free to go off and, hopefully, get off. The party was back into full swing now, the band once again playing at top volume and the dubious cocktails flowing by the gallon. But it was not towards the noise and excitement that he turned, but rather down the dim-lit corridor to a certain room in which he knew that he would be enjoying himself very much.
He pushed open the door and found it to be pleasantly warm, and so steamy inside that he could hardly see. The deep, spacious Jacuzzi bath which was sunk into the centre of the tiled floor was full and sparkling invitingly. Sitting in the water was Hermione, who was wearing nothing but bubbles and filing her nails nonchalantly.
"Are you lost?" she said, looking up at him and raising an eyebrow.
"Actually, I-"
"Come here." She purred.
"O-okay," Draco assented readily. "Why?"
She waited until he was standing right by her before making her move. Grabbing his tie she pulled him towards her and whispered in his ear.
"You're just like a glass of Vodka, Draco Malfoy. Strong, pale... and guaranteed to get me flat on my back every time."
Draco gulped. Hermione, inspired by Cho's earlier example, pulled Draco into the water. He sat up, wet and spluttering slightly. Even in such an attractive situation, he still had time to spare a thought for his Armani outfit. Which was dry-clean only. He started to unbutton his soaking white shirt, which was plastered to him.
"Leave that to me," Hermione said, deftly running her fingers down the row of buttons and sliding the material back over his shoulders. He tensed as she pulled the shirt off of his arms - his wound had been deep and was obviously still hurting him.
"This needs to be cleaned," she said practically, dipping a soft cloth into the water and touching it to his arm. He winced.
"Ouch!"
"I'm sorry... but it needs to be done," she instructed, matter-of-factly. She daubed at it until the cut was clean, soothing his pain with tiny butterfly kisses over his neck which seemed to appease him. She was just putting the finishing touches to the dressing of the wound when he put his hand firmly over her own and stopped her from administering to him any further. She dropped the washcloth in surprise as he kissed her, hard. A while later, she pulled away.
"Feeling better?"
"Absolutely," he said, covering her mouth with his own again and loosening his trousers.
*
"Damage report?" Blaise asked Lee, with more than a hint of trepidation. This party had been his brainchild, after all. He felt at least a teeny bit of responsibility for what travesties may have occurred to the valuable and antiquated seventeenth-century manor house.
"Weeeeeell..." Lee took a deep breath and nervously slid a finger under his shirt collar, which felt too tight all of a sudden. "The garden has been trampled-"
"If anyone asks ya, it was the Horklumps, right?" was Blaise's solution to this.
"Er... there is a smouldering Inca Mummy minus some limbs in the pool, which also contains Ron's piss. And god knows what else."
"Insurance'll cover that... won't it?" Blaise pondered.
"There is vomit in the Koi Fish Pond, there are moustaches and glasses drawn on all of the Renoirs, and someone has taken a dump in the Master Bedroom."
"Anything else?" said Blaise, who had gone rather pale.
"Not really... just lots of vol-au-vents on the floor, the antique tapestries have been torched, there's mud on the white deep-pile carpets, Salazar Slytherin has a condom hangin' off his nose, the second bedroom wall now says 'TEZ SHAGGED MANDY 'ERE' in a distasteful orange colour, the Siamese Cat is now a Manx Cat, and... the torture chamber is being used by some 5th years doing body piercing. The Iron Maiden's got an 'ole in 'er bottom an' the 'Cat o' Nine Tails' is currently eight and an' 'alf tails short."
Blaise started to wander off in search of something strong to drink, mumbling something vague about 'clearing it up in the morning.'
"Wait!" Lee shouted, "I haven't told you about the ten-pin bowling with the Ming Vases yet!"
***
The Morning
***
Hannah awoke to find Susan licking her face. Oh, no. It wasn't Susan. It was a coyote. Pushing it away hurriedly, she sat up stiffly. Her clothes were muddy and covered with spiders, she had been sleeping on an ants nest, a dog had left a nasty mess in Susan's handbag and worst of all, they had no food. Susan was already awake, and had been attempting to light a fire for almost three hours by rubbing two damp twigs together. They finally caught alight and produced a tiny flame, which was promptly extinguished after a tiny gust of wind decided to blow.
"Oh, poo," Susan expectorated (quite rudely, she thought), shivering in her damp nylon T-shirt. It was going to be one of those days... again.
*
"What happened?" Moaned Draco blearily, rubbing his eyes and sitting up in the magnificent four-poster bed. After several heavy drinking games the two of them must have decided to relocate to somewhere they wouldn't keep banging their heads.
Next to him, Hermione rolled over and looked up at him with a vague grin.
"I remember betting you I could climb up the wall... using only my lips," she reminded him, helpfully.
"Oh, yeah! That was right after I... did I really, um...?"
"Yep. Right in my ear, if I remember rightly."
"Oh." He looked rather chuffed. "Cool."
"You know... I don't get it," Draco said, shifting his arm so that Hermione could nestle into it more comfortably. "We're in an unplottable, seventeenth century manor house which is fifty miles away from civilisation in any form. Will you please explain to me just how I got this traffic cone?"
"Hey, it's not a good night unless you get a traffic cone," Hermione told him, closing her eyes blissfully and snuggling up to him. "It's the policeman's helmet and the Sock Suspenders I don't get."
*
End of Part Five
A/N: Phew… fluffy enough for ya? *grins* Now… go review! Please! Your comments are always very, very much appreciated. Oh, and if the Evils of Microsoft Word's Spellchecker have made any ridiculously inappropriate replacements by accident at any point in this fic, then… do you think you could point them out when you review? It would be very helpful. I've checked it once, but you never know, I may have missed one. Or two. Or five...
See you for part 6… and keep an eye out for some of Drosera's GenX Art which will be on our spangly, shiny new website sooooon, we hope. We'll keep anyone who cares posted with the address, probably on our bio page or on the community connector if I work out how to use it. ^^ Love, Aurora.