A Forbidden Love

by A. Smithee

            Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and AOL Time Warner.  That woman even took J.K. to court for alleged plagiarism and that court decided that J.K. does own the little whippersnapper.

            Author's note: This is a story composed of many e-mails, which is why it may sound choppy.  This is also a PWP with slash.  If you don't like slash, have the decency to get the heck outta here.  Thank you kindly.

Chapter Nine

            Ron grimaced at the scene before him.  He was wearing a knight costume and it fit horribly.  He stared at the mindless drones who were dancing and having fun.  Hermione was at the snack table, pigging out.  She's really fat, he thought sadly. She used to be so hot.

            He sighed and glanced up at the entrance to the Great Hall.  Malfoy stood there stupidly as Pansy attempted to rip his cloak off.  He was resisting, so she whipped him in the ass.  Ron heard Malfoy's loud shriek as Pansy managed to remove the cloak.  A collective gasp went through the Hall.

            "What are you looking at?!" Draco shouted. "It's just a leather thong."

            "Miss Granger, I need to speak with you," Dumbledore said as a slow song started. "Perhaps it would be more discreet if we talked while dancing."

            "Why would that be more –" Hermione said as he whisked her onto the dance floor.

            "I was thinking of having a meeting with the potential fathers of your baby after the Ball," Dumbledore said as he snaked an arm around her waist.

            "Sure, sounds fine," she said uncomfortably.

            "You know, you have really beautiful eyes," Dumbledore said with a suggestive wink.

            "Ewww!" Hermione screamed as she shoved Dumbledore across the floor.  She turned around and ran into the first room she saw.  Inside, at that moment, Harry was busy preparing a vat of chocolate pudding.

            This is so boring, Lavender thought glumly. Why did Dean have to dress like Santa Claus?  I can barely get my arms around him.

            "What's wrong, Lav?" Dean said cheerfully.

            "Nothing," she lied.  She looked over Dean's shoulder and saw Ginny dancing with a herd of hotties.  She was wearing a provocative schoolgirl uniform.  If only I could be like Ginny, Lavender thought sadly.

            "Another grape, Sev?" Goyle said sweetly.

            "If you feed it to me," Snape said, winking.  They were still in the dungeon and discarded items of clothing were piled around them.

            "Greggy, should I change into this skimpy bikini?" Snape said as he picked up a sickeningly pink bathing suit.

            "I won't complain."

            "Neville, will you please leave me alone?" Ginny said as Neville tried to get in between her and the hotties.

            "But Ginny, we came to the Ball together.  I want to dance with you," he said hopefully.

            "Ha!  As if!  I would rather dance with that ugly guy over there."  She pointed at a strange man with black lines through his eyes.  He looked incredibly out of place.

            "But –" Neville began.

            "Do me a favor and die, Longbottom," said a cold, drawling voice from behind Ginny.  Neville started crying and ran away, his pathetic ghost costume dragging behind him.

            Draco took Ginny's hand and led her to a secluded corner of the Great Hall.

            "Virginia, you Catholic girls start much too late," he said as he kissed her hand.

            More dancing, scandal, ripping off of quotations, and Neville-hatin' to come!

            You know, I really wore out that cheap joke.