Hogwarts Gets Wild!
Machiavella of Kingsport
A Harry Potter Fic
Chapter 8: The Birthday Party
Hermione was incredibly excited; this was the first time she had ever held a birthday party with her Hogwarts friends. It had always been, in the four years before, just simple cards from home and small gifts like tooth whitener, a personal dental kit, and books on teeth. And before Hogwarts, there were the family dinners at restaurants, just her and her parents, but they never let the waiters send to the kitchens for a cake or ice cream. That was just the way it was…and Hermione was sick of it.
So a week before the fifth of October, she sent out invitations to all her girl friends—this was going to be a classic all-girl party, with giggling and sugary foods and such. She couldn't wait. The invitations were a pretty sky-blue, with white lace doily around the edges, and her own handwriting, in perfect, neat blue script. On her list were Lavender Brown, Parvati and Padma Patil, Eloise Midgen, Cho Chang, Lola Fernandez, Ginny Weasley, and Hannah Abbott. A perfectly nice assortment, she said to herself, and waited patiently for replies.
Of course, on the day of the delivery of invitations, Lola happened to be sitting next to Harry and Ron when she received it. Ron and Harry read over her shoulder, and then Ron rounded on Hermione.
"Hey Herm, you're having a party and you didn't invite us? That's not very nice!"
"Yeah!" Harry backed him up, poking her shoulder. "And besides, you never told us when your birthday was! We coulda got you something!"
Hermione went red, her head low. "It's an all girl party…"
"Oh, one of those…" Ron rolled his eyes. "Ginny has those for her birthday in the summer, and god…the shrieking…sometimes I really wonder what they get up to at those things…"
If Hermione's face had been very red to start, it was doubly so now. "You're not supposed to know! It's…it's…"
Ron rolled his eyes again. "…A girl thing," He finished for her. "I suppose I'll never know. Women…" He threw his hands up and went back to his breakfast.
"Well, still, you could have at least told us when your birthday was. We are your friends, after all. I'm going to get you something." Harry nodded satisfactorily and wiped his mouth with his napkin, scraping the rest of the eggs off his plate.
Lola, who had long since finished reading the invitation and who had been silently laughing at Ron and Harry, turned to Hermione, leaning behind the two boys. "So it's the fifth? At six?"
"Yeah. And bring fun stuff, like magazines or something, if you don't mind. I have a couple of plans now, but I don't really know what to do for one of these parties."
"Well, I could help you there." Lola hid a giggle discreetly, reminiscing about her days back in Salem. "Have you never had one before?"
"Well, no. All my friends used to but my parents never let me go. They were so uptight. All I remember is watching them all buying magazines and nail polish from the pharmacy before going, like some sort of pagan ritual…"
"Hah! Pagan ritual! That's great…I've never heard it described that way before. But yeah. Come with me for a sec, and I can tell you the sort of thing that goes on." Lola grinned and eyed Ron and Harry, who had innocent but eager looks on their faces. Hermione followed her to the hallway outside. "So—have you ever played truth or dare?"
"Er…should I have?"
"…Never mind. Truth or dare—um, you take turns daring people to do something rather gross, or taboo, that they normally wouldn't do. Or if they opt for truth, you ask them a personal question. Simple enough?" Hermione nodded. "Okay. Then…um…well, this is awkward, but usually someone starts talking about boys, and then people talk about their dreams about the mentioned boys…and…well, yeah. Do you know what I'm getting at, Hermione?"
Hermione blushed. "I think so…um…would it be like talking about something straight out of Pansy's diary?"
Lola was barely able to hold in her laughter for fear that someone might overhear the conversation. "Pretty much. And then, well, there's quizzes from magazines and usually someone paints toenails or fingernails or something…and people watch romance movies."
"The movies might be hard to do…" Hermione murmured thoughtfully.
"How so?"
"Didn't you ever read 'Hogwarts, A History'?" Hermione gasped in disbelief.
Lola groaned…
But Hermione had figured out an alternative. In a spell book written by a human wizard, called "Wizardry and Technology" that she had found, the author described how one could rent the movie of choice, and then tap the cassette with their wand and say "Copy". Supposedly the movie would copy itself into the wand, and when it needed to be played, the witch/wizard could set the wand on a high shelf and point it at a blank white wall, saying "projecto". The movie would play on the wall as though the wall were a projection screen. Hermione's only problem was that she didn't know what movie her guests would like. After all—the majority of her party attendees hadn't even seen a movie before.
After much decision, Hermione owled her parents at home and asked them to send to her the movie "Practical Magic". It was an American film, with a good combination of witchcraft and romance that she was sure anyone could enjoy. She received it two days before her party, and she was so excited that she shivered with delight. This would be a real surprise for her fellow witches…and of course, her parents had also recently sent her the monthly editions of the various muggle teen magazines she subscribed to. One of them had a large picture and fold out poster of the newly debuted actor Orlando Bloom. Her friends were sure to like this!
The night of the party, Hermione selected an unused classroom near the library with whitewashed walls. She magicked the chairs and desks away into a different room, and magically furnished the classroom with a plush rug and a few armchairs and couches. On a table in the center were bowls of potato crisps, dip, soda, and candies—among which were Honeyduke's chocolates, tooth-flossing string mints, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and more sweets smuggled in from Hogsmeade, thanks to the Weasley twins the night before. The pumpkin juice she had gotten from the kitchens (though at last minute resignation, because she still abhorred the thought of using house elves).
Leaving the room, she set out to pick up her friends. Lola, Parvati, Lavender, and Ginny were all waiting in the Gryffindor common room, and with them she met Eloise and Hannah in the hall. Cho and Padma caught up with the girls between the library and the room, and so Hermione ushered the giggling girls into the room. What she hadn't expected, however, were gifts.
"Oh, no," she protested, as the girls set their gifts on a chair. "Really, I don't need gifts! I—I"—
Lola hushed her. "Hermione, we don't care. We're giving you gifts anyway!" She grinned evilly. "Whether you like it or not!"
"But"—
"No buts. Friends are supposed to give their friends birthday gifts. And besides, you deserve them!" Lola hugged her, and then sat her down on the nicest armchair in the room, seating herself on a couch with Parvati, Padma, and Lavender. Eloise, Hannah, and Ginny all lay on the floor, and Cho sat quietly on a footstool. Hermione gave in and grinned.
"Let's get this party started!"
In the trophy room were George, Fred, Ron, Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Draco. Draco glared hatefully at all of them, his arms crossed stubbornly. "I will not help you polish the goddamn shield!"
"Oh, yes, you will," Fred growled, gripping the insolent fifth-year's shoulders. "This is your fault too, whether you like it or not. Look; Harry and all them are busy doing their detention work, but you—you who paid us to do the most despicable thing, and are in the most trouble—refuse to do your share."
"Hey, you didn't have to accept my money. You didn't have to do what I told you. You thought it was funny. It's your fault you were so bloody stupid, you bloody fucking muggle-lovers! It's not your place to boss me around!" Draco was red with rage as he stamped his feet, his eyes squinted furiously.
George rolled his eyes. "My god, Fred, let's not bother with this dark art-practicing scum. Look at him—so immature, throwing a little temper tantrum because he's too high-and-mighty to get down and do some honest-to-god work! We have better things to do. Malfoy, why don't you just keep wasting your time, buddy. Filch will just make you do more work later on."
Malfoy looked about to spit fire, and he opened his mouth to comment, but he decided for the better and sat dejectedly on the floor beside his bucket and sponge. After glaring balefully at the Gryffindors for a while, he finally reached a tentative hand into his bucket, grabbed the sponge, and listlessly wiped it around on a golden cup. God, why doesn't someone come liven up this bloody party?
"Cho—truth or dare?" Lola asked, grinning deviously. It was good the other girls hardly knew what she was about. Lola just had to know if she had competition with this girl when it came to Harry. She had heard Ron teasing him about Cho the other day, and many times before, and was wondering if he liked Cho more than her. Of course, even more the question at hand was whether or not Cho liked Harry…that would make all the difference. She prayed that Cho would say…
"Truth."
Lola pretended to think for a second before asking. "Okay…do you like Harry? And you can't chicken out this time! You've chickened out on all your dares so far."
Cho blushed horribly, hiding her face. "Umm…Uhh…Umm…I don't know…"
"Oh, what kind of an answer is that?" Ginny interjected, giggling. " We want the details!"
"Er…oh, fine! I like Harry." The last sentence was hardly audible as she hid her face in a cushion.
"We didn't hear you!" Lola murmured, grinning. Her eyes sparkled mischievously.
"I like him!" Cho said at last, practically shouting, and then clapped a hand over her mouth and looked around to make sure no one had passed by and heard. Lola seethed inwardly while the girls broke into peals of mirth, and waited for Cho's challenge to another person.
Fred and George Weasley were so fed up with Draco that they had decided to ditch detention for the Gryffindor common room, disregarding the fact that McGonagall could possible catch them. Sitting in front of the fire in plush red armchairs, they laughed and made fun of Malfoy.
"…Seriously! I can't believe he actually PAID us to get another Slytherin! Especially Pansy…"
"He must like her or something…I mean, he must be jealous that she likes Snape…"
"Perhaps…but it's an odd way of…"
The two of them continued to banter over Draco's motives.
"Parvati and Lavender—truth or dare?" Ginny asked.
"Dare," they chorused. Ginny grinned diabolically and laughed to herself. Perfect.
"I dare you to…strip tease for my twin brothers!"
"Eeek! Are you SERIOUS?" squealed Lavender, covering her mouth in half-horror, half-amusement.
"Hey, they aren't all that bad, you know…they're the cute ones in the family, after all…" Parvati mused thoughtfully.
And the most sick-minded, Ginny added silently. God knows they'd love to see two girls strip for them. But that's not the point.
"I guess you're right…"
"C'mon, Lavender, let's do it!"
In just five minutes' time, the conversation had gone from Draco's secret motive to who was more likely to get a girl in bed.
"Oh, come on, George, we both know that guys named Fred are more likely to get laid. George is just such a prudish name, any girl would just assume you're a little goody two-shoes."
"Oh, as if your NAME is going to get you in bed," George scoffed. "I'VE got an Anaconda down there! And you've probably got a little garter snake…"
"What? Me, that small?" Fred raged. "Why, I'VE got a KOMODO DRAGON!"
Nervously, Lavender whispered the Gryffindor password and stepped inside. Parvati was close behind. Both of them immediately spotted the two raging redheaded twins, one of which was in a headlock. The other screamed, "Don't you dare, EVER, to insult my manly prowess! It's not as if YOU'VE been in bed with me before! Just ask Angelina—she can tell you…"
"What, Fred…" George gasped. "…That you get so nervous that you can't get a bloody erection?"
"Why, you little…"
"Um, excuse me, Fred…" Parvati tapped Fred on the shoulder, speaking in a husky low voice and using her Indian accent. Fred instantly released George from his tight clutches and straightened awkwardly.
"Yes, sexy bitch—I mean, Parvati?" Over by the other chair, George was staring at Lavender in a most obvious way, and was purple enough to convince anyone that he had forgotten to breathe. Lavender giggled.
"Hi, George…"
He found his voice. "H-hi, Lavender…Um…how are you on this lovely day? Heheh…"
Without a word further, the girls began toying with the zippers on their robes. Fred and George's eyes followed their every movement. "Oh, mother of god," they chorused, both breathing heavily. And a minute later: "SWEET!!!"
The hyper sugar-high girls raced to get the door at the sound of a knock. Outside were the sloppily dressed friends Lavender and Parvati.
"Did you do it?" shrieked the partygoers. Two simultaneous nods were sufficient for another bout of wild screaming to ensue.
Neville sat on his bed, studying for the potions test the next day. A lock of brown hair flopped into his face, and he brushed it out of the way. His toad croaked from in the dent in the pillow, and Neville absentmindedly patted its head. To make any truth potion, the one ingredient that the maker must never leave out is ethanol (ethyl alcohol). A key ingredient of mead as well, it loosens the tongue of a human, as well as parts of the mind that should always be tightly locked, and often the drinker will find himself talking about things he would never speak of normally…Oh boy, Neville thought, good thing I didn't drink that while Ginny was around. If she knew what I thought about her…what I dreamed of her…Oh boy. Oh boy. That would not be good. He continued scanning the book for more possible areas of study, but now that he'd thought of Ginny, he couldn't stop fantasizing…
Padma was lost. I really wish Ginny had said truth, she complained inwardly. With a sigh, she racked her brains for a good dare. "OH, I don't know…" She said the first thing that came to her. "I dare you to find Neville and ask him out."
Ginny shouted. "Argh!!!! I couldn't, though! He'd never say yes! And I'd be…." Her voice got very small all of a sudden. "…And I'd be so depressed if he didn't."
"Oh, that's so cute, little Ginny has unrequited love," crooned Lola teasingly. She pinched her cheek.
"Oh, stop that…" Ginny muttered, her face bright red. She held her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and wrung them nervously. "I just…couldn't ask him out."
"Aw, come on!" Lola said indignantly. "You can't always have fear of rejection, you know. Because then you'll never take chances in life, and you'll never know what it feels like to be loved. Just do it! Do it for us."
"Yes!" Hermione said, supporting her, "You ought to do it, if you like him so much! Come on!"
Ginny sat for a few minutes in tense silence. The girls waited tentatively for her answer.
"…"
"…"
"Alright, fine, I'll do it," she muttered. An animated cheer arose in the room.
"We're coming with you!" Cho declared, marching after her as Ginny slouched out the door. The girls trailed behind, giggling quietly.
Unable to concentrate, Neville walked to the common room and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher by the door. He drank slowly and stopped in between sips to stare half-consciously at the various paintings on the walls. Over in the corner, he spotted Fred and George Weasley, who were silent for once, staring straight ahead, as though in a trance. George was drooling. Neville gave them a small wave, but they didn't respond. He shook his head and dismissed it. They must be really tired tonight, he thought, unfazed.
The door to the common room slid open. Neville took no notice of the shadow of a person moving closer to him every second. He only sipped his water, and observed a windblown Scottish landscape on the wall in the other direction. He jumped when he felt a tap on his shoulder. His water glass flew from his hand and landed unbroken but spilt on the carpet. "Aah! What the—"
As he whipped around, a redheaded girl shrank shyly. Ginny. He stopped dead and shivered. Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh boy. Oh boy. What do I do now? What?
"Neville…I wanted to ask you something…" Ginny whispered, staring at the floor.
Could it be? Could it possibly be?
"I wanted to know if…if you'd go out with me." Her eyes never left the floor.
Neville whooped, danced in circles, and punched the air. "Woohoo! Woohoo! Sweeeeeet!"
Ginny laughed nervously. "Is that a yes?"
"Uh huh! Yes, it is! It's a yes! Yup yup!" He jumped up and down and flailed his arms. He didn't stop until Ginny grabbed his shoulders.
"Whoa, calm down, Neville. Calm down."
"But I just can't!" He started getting antsy again, but Ginny kept her hands firmly on his shoulders.
"Now how am I supposed to kiss you if you can't stand still?"
"Ooh! Neville gets a present!" He clapped his hands excitedly. "Wheeee—OOMPH!"
Their lips were locked for the next five minutes or so, and afterwards, they clasped hands.
"Wow, I can't believe you're my girlfriend," Neville said, grinning. He hugged her happily, squeezing the breath out of her.
After she quietly made her excuses and left, Neville skipped over to Fred and George. " Hey! Hey, Fred! George! Guess what? Ginny asked me out! Your sister asked me out!"
Finally conscious, Fred turned his head to face him. "Shut up, Neville, we're reminiscing." In the next chair over, George continued to drool, adding to the puddle on his chest.
"You REALLY want something disgusting? Are you sure?" Ginny asked, grinning.
"I'm POSITIVE." Hermione was ready for anything.
"Only fools are positive," Ginny said.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm POSITIVE," she replied. Then she thought for a second. "Um, wait a minute…"
"Ha! Gotcha."
"Damn!"
"Well, dare me already!"
"Are you really so eager? You don't know what you're getting yourself into, you've used up all of your chickens."
"Yes! Just…just do it!" Hermione was laughing exasperatedly. What could possibly be so bad?
There was a moment of silence. Ginny's grin only got wider and wider with every second. When finally she spoke, Hermione was filled with such a feeling of disgust and revolt that she nearly retched on the nice purple plush carpet. The other girls shrieked, horrified.
"I dare you to kiss Malfoy. On the lips, tongue, touchy-feely, the works."
When Hermione had regained the ability to speak without puking, she choked out, "You CAN'T be serious. I do NOT want to do this. This is going too far."
"You said you wanted a really disgusting dare. I gave you one." Ginny was still grinning, but with a most evil glint in her brown eyes.
"But—see—MALFOY? No, you just—you just CAN'T make me kiss him, not him, not ever, ever, ever!"
"If I have to drug you and put you through the motions, I will," Ginny warned.
"You're sounding really serious now, Ginny," Hermione said shakily. By now the spark in Ginny's eyes was like a flame, and the grin on her face seemed almost sinister.
"I am, I am."
"What's your motive?" Padma asked, suspiciously.
"Yeah, why are you so intent on Hermione kissing Malfoy?" Cho's stare was calculating and questioning.
"What did I ever do to you?" Hermione whined, almost won over, convinced that if she refused to kiss Malfoy, Ginny would murder her in her sleep or something similar.
"I'm sorry, all of you, but that is a question that cannot be answered. If Draco knew I'd told any of you, I would likely not see tomorrow."
"Do I REALLY have to do this?"
Ginny's grin was back to normal. "What do you think, Hermione?"
Draco had finally consented to help Harry, Dean, Seamus, and Ron in mending the school banner. The sewing was tedious and slow; none of the boys were particularly skilled at it, and many a drop of blood had been shed in attempts to use the needle and thread provided. Still glaring and acting sulky, Draco would always throw at them the objects they requested. There wasn't much that the Gryffindors could do about it, because Draco knew more curses than all of them put together. There was no telling what he'd do if one of them yelled at him. But, so wrapped up in their babyish contempt for one another, none of them noticed when a train of quiet girls slipped into the trophy room and took their places behind giant brass cups, hiding themselves in the shadows.
Only one girl, with bushy brown hair and a very pale freckled face padded silently over the boys. The Gryffindors' backs were toward her, so when she was close enough that the most oblivious would see her, only Draco looked up. His blue eyes widened, and his sneer disappeared. He looked as though he had just seen the bloody baron. He jabbed the needle into his thumb, and didn't even seem to care. He scrambled away from her, his mouth hanging open. Only then did the Gryffindor boys turn.
"Oh, hey Hermione!"
"What's up?"
Hermione ignored them, and walked around the banner. Draco stumbled backwards on his feet, and backed into a trophy. There he stood gulping, and breathing heavily. Hermione was a little confused. What was the act for? What the hell was he so afraid of? The little wimp, she thought in contempt. She kept walking until they were just inches apart.
"Hey, Harry, what do you think she's doing?" Ron asked, confused, jabbing his neighbor with his elbow.
"I'm not at all sure…Let's watch and see."
Draco's eyes were closed, not tightly, but closed. He looked as though he was going to swoon. What is his problem? Hermione wondered. With her right hand she reached for his face, and she let it rest there, her fingers entwined in his icy blonde hair. My god, this is so gross. Slowly, her eyes screwed up tight, she let her mouth find his. Tentatively she let her tongue explore Draco's mouth. Surprised was she to find that Draco was responding…
Draco, now awake from his half-slumber, grabbed Hermione by the waist, and let his other hand rest on her breast. He kissed back passionately. Looks like he's doing more kissing than I am, Hermione thought, bewildered. Without really thinking, her left hand found a place on Draco's shoulder, and she went along with it.
The Gryffindor boys watched all this in stupefied horror. Hermione and Draco, seemingly in fits of passion, were stumbling around the room blindly, their lips locked as though welded together.
"Um, Harry, I really hope Hermione and Draco aren't doing what I think they're doing…" Ron moaned jealously.
"Shut up, you horndog, we all know you just want a piece of Hermione…like Draco does, I guess…" Harry looked a little green. "Really, I think she needs better taste in men."
"Why not me? Why not me?" Ron moaned again.
"She must be on drugs," Harry suggested. "That's got to be it."
Behind a trophy, Ginny whispered to Lavender and Cho on either side of her. "Really, I thought she wasn't going to enjoy this. They've been going for…" She checked her watch. "…Holy shit! They've been going for ten minutes already! Jesus! Do you know if they've come up for air yet?"
"They haven't…" Lavender broke into silent giggles. "God, this is better than watching my parents!"
"…"
"…"
"YOU WATCH YOUR PARENTS? YOU SICK FREAK!!!" Ginny whispered shrilly. She gagged. "Excuse me while I throw up…"
Hermione couldn't believe it…this was great! Draco was a wonderful kisser…The two of them were on the floor, Draco on top of her, still thrusting his tongue into her mouth. He tasted like raspberries. Tangy but sweet…
Ron couldn't take it any more. "OH, WILL YOU TWO GET A ROOM?!"
With a saucy grin, Hermione disengaged herself from the entanglement. "No!"
Draco, still apparently in heaven (his eyes were closed, and he had a dreamy smile plastered on his pale face), slowly awoke from his fantasy land. "Hey, Hermione?"
"Yeah, Draco?" Hermione stroked his cheek with a slender finger lovingly.
"Want to go steady?"
"You know what Draco?" asked Hermione. "Why the hell not?"
TO BE CONTINUED…