Chapter 3- More Strangeness and More Freak Dancing
"Have you eve had that dream where there's a Veela in your shower, waiting for you, but when you get in there, she turns into Gilderoy Lockhart and makes fun of you?" questioned Ron in a serious tone that I personally found frightening.
It was eight o'clock precisely, and we were sitting down once again. Pavarti and Lavendar were in the restroom, doing their makeup.
"Ron! Honestly!" I declared in disbelief.
Neville and Seamus shook their heads, looking apalled.
"Lockhart was quite a blarmey lad, now, wan't he?" Seamus twittered to himself. "Cornish pixies! I told me dad abou' that! 'E says, 'Pixies!' Then, 'e lost 'is temper, cause' 'e says I musn't tell 'im lies! Of course, 'e's a Muggle, so he 'ad no idea of what I was on about!"
None of us really knew what Seamus was on about either, so his comments were overlooked, except by Dean, who, being his best mate and all, punched him in the shoulder. "Where do you think that Lockhart git is now, anyway?" Harry asked.
Dean said he did not care, but Ron burst out laughing and the words 'Hermione probably knows' were distinguishable.
I went red. "Oh, come now! It was just a little crush!"
"He was very ravishing," Charlotte put in.
"THANK you!" I exclaimed.
"..Probably in the mental home," Harry answered himself thoughtfully.
Neville's eyes widened as he stared behind us. "They're gettin' a bit frisky over there, aren't they?"
We all looked to where he pointed: right in the middle of the dance floor. "Hey now!" Ron screamed in disgust.
My jaw dropped. The Slytherin girls were back at their freak dancing, but this time, Malfoy was in the middle of them. Pansy was ALL over him.*
"This reminds me of MTV," Harry muttered.
Dean, Seamus, and I nodded in agreement.
"What?" Neville, Charlotte and Ron said together.
I replied," Oh, it's this really stupid Muggle telly station. They show music vidoes where a bunch of perverts in racy underwear song, dance like disgusting prats, and hardly ever sing."
Charlotte nodded in interest, but the boys were transfixed.
Who could really blame them though? Right before their eyes were at least seven girls in heavy eyeliner with skimpy clothes hanging on them for dear life. I mean, it really isn't the guys' faults, but kind of questionable sometimes.
For some reason, Pansy Parkinson, though without any sense of kindness or compassion, is very popular for her looks. She has a snobby- looking face with a little uppity nose, and very smooth skin with aqua eyes. Her hair is natuarlly a dark blond, but she changes it all the time. That night, it was black. She has quite a large behind, which she always shows off in awful hip-huggers.
She was bouncing up and down on Draco's back (Ron's eyes were bouncing along), and then she swerved round to his front and ran her hands down his chest.
He responded by putting his hands in her back pants pockets, and shimmying down her legs. I'd have to admit that Draco was pretty good at keeping the beat. He was a pretty satisfactory dancer, or least much better than the souls that I hang around with, save Seamus and his Riverdancing.
People were cheering and whistling as Malfoy and his little group got more and more serious. I was about to turn away when Pansy grabbed Draco in an unmentionable area.
"Oh, ew!" I said aloud.
"Ouch..." Harry muttered.
"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed in complete awe. "How can he stand this? Look it, he's not even happy! Where does he get the power?"
Ron was right. Upon Malfoy's face, there was no emotion whatsoever. No hint of embarrassment, none of enjoyment, none of anger. It was blank and kind of bored- set, like ice. And then, he looked over at me again.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" shouted McGonnagal.
Pansy and Malfoy managed a quick snog beofe quitting to head back to their table.
We were all silent for a moment. Finally, Ron said, "She is ever so good looking, and he doesn't really give a cauldron's bottom."
The phrase was so outlandishly stupid that we broke into hysterical laughter. I swear, Ron can be such an idiot when he feels like it.
We calmed down a few minutes later, and to my great amazement, I found myself thinking about Draco Malfoy. What was with his facial expressions? I always thought that he liked Pansy. WHY did he continue to stare at ME?
**AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you really want a good mental image for this part of the tale, listen to the R&B group TLC's songs "Silly Ho" or "Hands Up". Trust me, those songs really helped to envision this bit. **
"Have you eve had that dream where there's a Veela in your shower, waiting for you, but when you get in there, she turns into Gilderoy Lockhart and makes fun of you?" questioned Ron in a serious tone that I personally found frightening.
It was eight o'clock precisely, and we were sitting down once again. Pavarti and Lavendar were in the restroom, doing their makeup.
"Ron! Honestly!" I declared in disbelief.
Neville and Seamus shook their heads, looking apalled.
"Lockhart was quite a blarmey lad, now, wan't he?" Seamus twittered to himself. "Cornish pixies! I told me dad abou' that! 'E says, 'Pixies!' Then, 'e lost 'is temper, cause' 'e says I musn't tell 'im lies! Of course, 'e's a Muggle, so he 'ad no idea of what I was on about!"
None of us really knew what Seamus was on about either, so his comments were overlooked, except by Dean, who, being his best mate and all, punched him in the shoulder. "Where do you think that Lockhart git is now, anyway?" Harry asked.
Dean said he did not care, but Ron burst out laughing and the words 'Hermione probably knows' were distinguishable.
I went red. "Oh, come now! It was just a little crush!"
"He was very ravishing," Charlotte put in.
"THANK you!" I exclaimed.
"..Probably in the mental home," Harry answered himself thoughtfully.
Neville's eyes widened as he stared behind us. "They're gettin' a bit frisky over there, aren't they?"
We all looked to where he pointed: right in the middle of the dance floor. "Hey now!" Ron screamed in disgust.
My jaw dropped. The Slytherin girls were back at their freak dancing, but this time, Malfoy was in the middle of them. Pansy was ALL over him.*
"This reminds me of MTV," Harry muttered.
Dean, Seamus, and I nodded in agreement.
"What?" Neville, Charlotte and Ron said together.
I replied," Oh, it's this really stupid Muggle telly station. They show music vidoes where a bunch of perverts in racy underwear song, dance like disgusting prats, and hardly ever sing."
Charlotte nodded in interest, but the boys were transfixed.
Who could really blame them though? Right before their eyes were at least seven girls in heavy eyeliner with skimpy clothes hanging on them for dear life. I mean, it really isn't the guys' faults, but kind of questionable sometimes.
For some reason, Pansy Parkinson, though without any sense of kindness or compassion, is very popular for her looks. She has a snobby- looking face with a little uppity nose, and very smooth skin with aqua eyes. Her hair is natuarlly a dark blond, but she changes it all the time. That night, it was black. She has quite a large behind, which she always shows off in awful hip-huggers.
She was bouncing up and down on Draco's back (Ron's eyes were bouncing along), and then she swerved round to his front and ran her hands down his chest.
He responded by putting his hands in her back pants pockets, and shimmying down her legs. I'd have to admit that Draco was pretty good at keeping the beat. He was a pretty satisfactory dancer, or least much better than the souls that I hang around with, save Seamus and his Riverdancing.
People were cheering and whistling as Malfoy and his little group got more and more serious. I was about to turn away when Pansy grabbed Draco in an unmentionable area.
"Oh, ew!" I said aloud.
"Ouch..." Harry muttered.
"Whoa!" Ron exclaimed in complete awe. "How can he stand this? Look it, he's not even happy! Where does he get the power?"
Ron was right. Upon Malfoy's face, there was no emotion whatsoever. No hint of embarrassment, none of enjoyment, none of anger. It was blank and kind of bored- set, like ice. And then, he looked over at me again.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" shouted McGonnagal.
Pansy and Malfoy managed a quick snog beofe quitting to head back to their table.
We were all silent for a moment. Finally, Ron said, "She is ever so good looking, and he doesn't really give a cauldron's bottom."
The phrase was so outlandishly stupid that we broke into hysterical laughter. I swear, Ron can be such an idiot when he feels like it.
We calmed down a few minutes later, and to my great amazement, I found myself thinking about Draco Malfoy. What was with his facial expressions? I always thought that he liked Pansy. WHY did he continue to stare at ME?
**AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you really want a good mental image for this part of the tale, listen to the R&B group TLC's songs "Silly Ho" or "Hands Up". Trust me, those songs really helped to envision this bit. **