Elementals.
Disclaimer: If I owned the characters in this fic, I'd publish it and make some money. They're not mine, however, as everyone knows. They're J.K's. The ideas are mine, though, so please don't copy them. (Not that I'm that original anyway.)
Rating: PG13 for language, flirting, and...other stuff.
Summary: one girl, two boys, three people in love, and a very annoyed girl called Lava.
AN: Sorry about the spasmodic nature of my writing. The last two and a half chapters all came out in one day. If you're ever stuck for what to write, try a sandwich and lots of black coffee. I owe this sudden spurt entirely to them. Anyway, I'll stop babbling now...enjoy
Chapter Five: Night is sweeter.
"Roses are black and violets are grey, night is sweeter than the livelong day. Roses are rotten, violets are dead. Anger is molten, burning in my head. Sinners are pardoned, darkness is blue, honey's poisoned, cloying; so are you."
Draco arrived at the doors just in time, at ten to twelve. He paused, pulling himself together, trying to look composed, and then approached the door keeper.
The man touched his forelock. "Master Malfoy, Sir. Welcome."
Draco smiled haughtily, and handed the man the extortionat price required on entry, along with a substantial tip.
The man gaped; most people paid by notes for Gringotts, not cash down! Draco, ignoring him, passed on into the dining room. He sat down at a table in a quiet corner, and realised, quite suddenly, that he was very hungry.
* * *
Harry arrived just behind Malfoy, watched him enter, cast a deceptive charm on his face, and moved forward. The man on the door reached out and stopped him. He stared, taking in the stranger.
"Just a minute, sir. You're new, aren't you. You can't go in there yet. Name ?"
"Manning. James Manning," Harry answered, pulling a name from his head at random.
"Fifteen galleons entry fee, sir."
Harry checked . "Oh." He felt remarkably stupid. What now? "Er, can I write a check for my bank?"
"Certainly, sir." The man produced quill and ink, and Harry scribbled quickly,
Permission is given to the bearer to remove fifteen galleons from the Potter vault.
Harry Potter.
The man glanced down at the paper, and as his eyes widened in surprise, Harry pushed past, and into the dining room.
* * *
Ginny, entering the dining room behind Storm, determined suddenly to forget about the detention, and feelings and hate and Malfoy, and simply have a good time. After all, that was what she came here for, wasn't it. She glanced round the room, taking in everyone who was there, and became aware, with a tingle, of someone watching her, staring at her.
She turned to see who it was, and her eyes met the icy grey, tip tilted Malfoy eyes that were staring at her. She first felt surprised, and then nearly burst out laughing. His effrontery in coming here, an obvious student, was the funniest thing she'd ever seen.
Flame turned her head away, resolutely looking for Lothair Lockley, but he wasn't there. Trying to appear unconcerned, she stepped forward.
She could still feel Draco's scrutiny, and thought with amusement of the song by The Cure: "Yeah I couldn't help but notice your eyes. They've been boring two holes in the side of my head, since the minute I arrived."
* * *
Draco, already started on his excellent meal, was wolfing it down as eagerly as was compatible with elegance. He looked up as the girls entered, and his eyes rested on one, about Ginny's height, with flaming red, curly hair, icy skin, and brown eyes. He stared. That was almost what an elegant, well brought up, sophisticated Weasley might look like.
The girl swung round, and her brown eyes locked with his, before she turned away. He continued to stare, but she stubbornly tried to pretend she hadn't seen him. He thought of The Cure. "And it's not too hard to guess, from... the way you're so carefully couldn't care less, that you're really trying very hard to impress."
* * *
Harry walked, carefully casual, into the dining room, sat down, and stared around him. He hadn't known that places like this even existed in Hogsmeade. His eyes circled the room, and came to rest on Malfoy, two tables away, eating ravenously.
He watched, as Malfoy locked eyes once, and twice, with a young red headed girl, and beckoned her over. He watched as she went, and felt a spurt of sick rage. The innocence, he was well aware, didn't hold under proof like this. How dare Malfoy not be innocent? Malfoy was evil, he always knew that. He would take up with a shamelessly loose girl like that slut. How dare she corrupt Malfoy?
Harry frowned, trying to sort out these obviously contradictory and nonsensical emotions. Impulsively, as in a bid for liberty, he beckoned to a girl, but then, as she approached, lost interest and turned back to watching Malfoy.
* * *
When Malfoy beckoned, Ginny recklessly crossed the room, and sat down opposite him. This could be very amusing. She smiled.
"Good evening."
"Hi, said Draco. So, what's your name?"
"I'm Flame. And you're Draco Malfoy."
Draco laughed softly. "I am. How did you know, apart from the veela looks, trademark smile and general aura of evil?"
Flame grinned. "Well, actually, Storm told me. And you're the only Hogwarts student who'd have the effrontery to come here openly. Do I sense some angst there?"
"Devil a bit", said Draco gloomily. "Have a drink."
"So, what's she like?"
Draco twitched. "What's who like?"
"The goody two shoes little girl who put you in a flaming temper, of course."
He reflected, wryly, that he'd have to school his countenance better. "Oh, she's a kid. Dirt poor, shameless, insolent, quiet and shy as a mouse, damnably insolent, vulnerable, hating me like hell, and entirely below my notice."
"Well, I could try and console you for her..."
Draco looked at her again. "Actually, you look damnably like her. That's why I noticed you."
Ginny laughed, and quoted, " 'You've been boring two holes in the side of my head, since the minute I arrived'. So she hates you, and you want to make her love you, and despise yourself for it." Draco's hands clenched suddenly round his glass. "No. I want to own her. I want to make her scream, and cry with pain, and to be unable to leave, because she doesn't own herself." The glass snapped at the stem.
"Oh." What else could she say? So he didn't despise her...suddenly, Ginny knew this was what she needed, had needed ever since Tom left.
"I don't know what her problem is, if that's the way of it. If I look so like her, maybe you could pretend I am her. Just for tonight."
"I don't know why else I called you over, really. Oh, and the Cure, "Its not to hard to guess from...the way you're so carefully couldn't care less, that you're really trying very hard to impress."
She laughed. "So you have bad taste in girls, but good taste in music. Can you dance as well as sing?"
He raised an eyebrow, and his eyes travelled slowly from her face down to her waist, and back again. "For tonight, I can. But you can give me your opinion, later."
* * *
Harry glanced up as the girl sat down opposite him, and smiled nervously.
"Hi," she said with a flashing smile. "I'm Lava."
Harry, busy craning past her to watch Malfoy and the girl, didn't respond.
"So, aren't you going to tell me your name, sweetheart?" she leaned forwards across the table, and her hair brushed his hand. He jumped and dragged his gaze back to focus on her.
"Ha- er, have a drink. My name's James. James Manning."
Since he had gone back to staring over her shoulder, and didn't seem about to serve her, Lava, pouting, poured the drinks for both of them.
"You know, its proper for the gentleman to serve the wine. But I never did like gentlemen. I prefer someone more- exciting."
Harry watched in agony, unconsciously sipping the wine, as Draco and the girl smiled and talked. He strained, trying to catch what they said. He saw them get up, and leave the table to dance.
"She's called Flame. I can fetch her, if you don't like me."
Harry choked on the unaccustomed alcohol, and jumped up, tossing back the rest of his drink. "Lets dance", he said, and, grabbing Lava's hand, led her on to the dance floor, as near to Draco as possible.
He didn't, however, get much chance to watch. Lava had grabbed him close, and was holding him tight, and moving so fast to the tango that he couldn't even see his own two feet.
She spun him further and further away from the other couple. Harry, realising this, immediately started to mannouver back again.
Her black eyes flashed indignation, she moved closer still, and, deciding it was time for emergency tactics, kissed him full on the mouth.
* * *
Ginny was spinning around and around, faster and faster, and it was all Draco could do to keep up. She laughed low as she leaned back, nearly touching the floor, and he laughed with her. Her hair came loose, the ribbon flying away. Then back up she swung, tantalisingly close, and away again, mocking. Only then to spin back into his arms, held close and firm.
They danced with wild abandon and recklessness, pulling together, and away again, breathless, desire mounting.
Then, as the dance ended, they drank again, toasting each others skill at dancing, and then drank some more.
They danced and drank, and danced and drank, desire mounting, until their heads were spinning. Then they sat down, still drinking, and talked until they seemed to have discussed everything under the sun, and agreed on at least the half they didn't disagree on.
Draco looked at her speculatively, and drew her out on to the dance floor again. He carried alcohol well, and still felt fine, but Ginny, now, was having trouble balancing. She clung to him, swaying, and glanced up, with fear and dependence and desire naked in her eyes. He smiled, and drew her into a slow dance, holding her close against him, and now her knees had gone weak, and he was holding her up.
Silently, they left the dance floor, and he directed her steps, wavering more through fright and desire than wine, into the lift. At the top, she fell out, and he gathered her up in his arms, laughing in his throat. She laughed too, and held his coat close.
He staggered into a room, and flung her on the bed. It wasn't until ten minutes later, that Storm, who'd seen them leave, but had had trouble jetisonning her own partner, arrived. She came just in time, as Mrs. Weasley would have put it, to save Virginia from a fate worse than death.
Storm, who knew perfectly well that Flame was out of her head, and that she hadn't had any one of a number of cuts or scratches a few minutes ago, was bloody angry.
There ensued, for Mr. Malfoy, a humiliating five minutes, at the end of which he was on the way back, and for Flame, an uncomfortable five, at the end of which she was stone cold sober.
* * *
Harry felt a wave of lethargy sweep over him. It was all that he'd always imagined a first kiss to be, sweet and still, and generally quite nice.
When he looked up again, Draco and Flame had disappeared, and he didn't look for them again.
And so he danced, or rather, let her take him with her, and drank, and kissed the girl...what was her name? And, finally, he staggered back through the woods at about two AM, thoroughly drunk, although the wine was quite light, and he hadn't really had that much.
When he reached the wall, he tried to climb it, failed, and fell back in the snow. Oh well, he was comfortable here, comfortable and so warm.
Draco, making his own way back, found him there a minute or so later, fast asleep. He cursed, and shook the other boy roughly awake.
"For fucks sake Potter, what the hell are you doing? You'll freeze to death. Come on, get up, don't be a git."
"OK, OK, bu' don' pes'er me." Harry staggered to his feet, and pitched forward again. Draco laughed.
"How many have you had, then, rebel?"
"Four, I think...she was very nice...whats her name? I'm a light weight, never drink, bad..."
Resignedly, Draco picked him up again, and the two boys staggered off. This was probably going to make history as the first time a Slytherin ever put a Gryffindor to bed.
* * *
Ginny, now entirely sober, and worn out, was in the cloak room. The other girls were helping her to apply cosmetic charms to the more obvious cuts, bite marks and bruises. She sighed, remembering that she still had something to do.
"Uh, Frost, or any of you, I don't suppose that "the moonlight" means anything to you, does it?"
The others looked blank, but Storm flinched slightly.
"Storm?"
"Uh, look, Flame, can I come back with you? I'll explain, I suppose, but I'd really rather not right now. We can talk tomorrow."
Ginny was vaguely surprised. "Fine, we'll leave it till tomorrow. Thanks ."
Disclaimer: If I owned the characters in this fic, I'd publish it and make some money. They're not mine, however, as everyone knows. They're J.K's. The ideas are mine, though, so please don't copy them. (Not that I'm that original anyway.)
Rating: PG13 for language, flirting, and...other stuff.
Summary: one girl, two boys, three people in love, and a very annoyed girl called Lava.
AN: Sorry about the spasmodic nature of my writing. The last two and a half chapters all came out in one day. If you're ever stuck for what to write, try a sandwich and lots of black coffee. I owe this sudden spurt entirely to them. Anyway, I'll stop babbling now...enjoy
Chapter Five: Night is sweeter.
"Roses are black and violets are grey, night is sweeter than the livelong day. Roses are rotten, violets are dead. Anger is molten, burning in my head. Sinners are pardoned, darkness is blue, honey's poisoned, cloying; so are you."
Draco arrived at the doors just in time, at ten to twelve. He paused, pulling himself together, trying to look composed, and then approached the door keeper.
The man touched his forelock. "Master Malfoy, Sir. Welcome."
Draco smiled haughtily, and handed the man the extortionat price required on entry, along with a substantial tip.
The man gaped; most people paid by notes for Gringotts, not cash down! Draco, ignoring him, passed on into the dining room. He sat down at a table in a quiet corner, and realised, quite suddenly, that he was very hungry.
* * *
Harry arrived just behind Malfoy, watched him enter, cast a deceptive charm on his face, and moved forward. The man on the door reached out and stopped him. He stared, taking in the stranger.
"Just a minute, sir. You're new, aren't you. You can't go in there yet. Name ?"
"Manning. James Manning," Harry answered, pulling a name from his head at random.
"Fifteen galleons entry fee, sir."
Harry checked . "Oh." He felt remarkably stupid. What now? "Er, can I write a check for my bank?"
"Certainly, sir." The man produced quill and ink, and Harry scribbled quickly,
Permission is given to the bearer to remove fifteen galleons from the Potter vault.
Harry Potter.
The man glanced down at the paper, and as his eyes widened in surprise, Harry pushed past, and into the dining room.
* * *
Ginny, entering the dining room behind Storm, determined suddenly to forget about the detention, and feelings and hate and Malfoy, and simply have a good time. After all, that was what she came here for, wasn't it. She glanced round the room, taking in everyone who was there, and became aware, with a tingle, of someone watching her, staring at her.
She turned to see who it was, and her eyes met the icy grey, tip tilted Malfoy eyes that were staring at her. She first felt surprised, and then nearly burst out laughing. His effrontery in coming here, an obvious student, was the funniest thing she'd ever seen.
Flame turned her head away, resolutely looking for Lothair Lockley, but he wasn't there. Trying to appear unconcerned, she stepped forward.
She could still feel Draco's scrutiny, and thought with amusement of the song by The Cure: "Yeah I couldn't help but notice your eyes. They've been boring two holes in the side of my head, since the minute I arrived."
* * *
Draco, already started on his excellent meal, was wolfing it down as eagerly as was compatible with elegance. He looked up as the girls entered, and his eyes rested on one, about Ginny's height, with flaming red, curly hair, icy skin, and brown eyes. He stared. That was almost what an elegant, well brought up, sophisticated Weasley might look like.
The girl swung round, and her brown eyes locked with his, before she turned away. He continued to stare, but she stubbornly tried to pretend she hadn't seen him. He thought of The Cure. "And it's not too hard to guess, from... the way you're so carefully couldn't care less, that you're really trying very hard to impress."
* * *
Harry walked, carefully casual, into the dining room, sat down, and stared around him. He hadn't known that places like this even existed in Hogsmeade. His eyes circled the room, and came to rest on Malfoy, two tables away, eating ravenously.
He watched, as Malfoy locked eyes once, and twice, with a young red headed girl, and beckoned her over. He watched as she went, and felt a spurt of sick rage. The innocence, he was well aware, didn't hold under proof like this. How dare Malfoy not be innocent? Malfoy was evil, he always knew that. He would take up with a shamelessly loose girl like that slut. How dare she corrupt Malfoy?
Harry frowned, trying to sort out these obviously contradictory and nonsensical emotions. Impulsively, as in a bid for liberty, he beckoned to a girl, but then, as she approached, lost interest and turned back to watching Malfoy.
* * *
When Malfoy beckoned, Ginny recklessly crossed the room, and sat down opposite him. This could be very amusing. She smiled.
"Good evening."
"Hi, said Draco. So, what's your name?"
"I'm Flame. And you're Draco Malfoy."
Draco laughed softly. "I am. How did you know, apart from the veela looks, trademark smile and general aura of evil?"
Flame grinned. "Well, actually, Storm told me. And you're the only Hogwarts student who'd have the effrontery to come here openly. Do I sense some angst there?"
"Devil a bit", said Draco gloomily. "Have a drink."
"So, what's she like?"
Draco twitched. "What's who like?"
"The goody two shoes little girl who put you in a flaming temper, of course."
He reflected, wryly, that he'd have to school his countenance better. "Oh, she's a kid. Dirt poor, shameless, insolent, quiet and shy as a mouse, damnably insolent, vulnerable, hating me like hell, and entirely below my notice."
"Well, I could try and console you for her..."
Draco looked at her again. "Actually, you look damnably like her. That's why I noticed you."
Ginny laughed, and quoted, " 'You've been boring two holes in the side of my head, since the minute I arrived'. So she hates you, and you want to make her love you, and despise yourself for it." Draco's hands clenched suddenly round his glass. "No. I want to own her. I want to make her scream, and cry with pain, and to be unable to leave, because she doesn't own herself." The glass snapped at the stem.
"Oh." What else could she say? So he didn't despise her...suddenly, Ginny knew this was what she needed, had needed ever since Tom left.
"I don't know what her problem is, if that's the way of it. If I look so like her, maybe you could pretend I am her. Just for tonight."
"I don't know why else I called you over, really. Oh, and the Cure, "Its not to hard to guess from...the way you're so carefully couldn't care less, that you're really trying very hard to impress."
She laughed. "So you have bad taste in girls, but good taste in music. Can you dance as well as sing?"
He raised an eyebrow, and his eyes travelled slowly from her face down to her waist, and back again. "For tonight, I can. But you can give me your opinion, later."
* * *
Harry glanced up as the girl sat down opposite him, and smiled nervously.
"Hi," she said with a flashing smile. "I'm Lava."
Harry, busy craning past her to watch Malfoy and the girl, didn't respond.
"So, aren't you going to tell me your name, sweetheart?" she leaned forwards across the table, and her hair brushed his hand. He jumped and dragged his gaze back to focus on her.
"Ha- er, have a drink. My name's James. James Manning."
Since he had gone back to staring over her shoulder, and didn't seem about to serve her, Lava, pouting, poured the drinks for both of them.
"You know, its proper for the gentleman to serve the wine. But I never did like gentlemen. I prefer someone more- exciting."
Harry watched in agony, unconsciously sipping the wine, as Draco and the girl smiled and talked. He strained, trying to catch what they said. He saw them get up, and leave the table to dance.
"She's called Flame. I can fetch her, if you don't like me."
Harry choked on the unaccustomed alcohol, and jumped up, tossing back the rest of his drink. "Lets dance", he said, and, grabbing Lava's hand, led her on to the dance floor, as near to Draco as possible.
He didn't, however, get much chance to watch. Lava had grabbed him close, and was holding him tight, and moving so fast to the tango that he couldn't even see his own two feet.
She spun him further and further away from the other couple. Harry, realising this, immediately started to mannouver back again.
Her black eyes flashed indignation, she moved closer still, and, deciding it was time for emergency tactics, kissed him full on the mouth.
* * *
Ginny was spinning around and around, faster and faster, and it was all Draco could do to keep up. She laughed low as she leaned back, nearly touching the floor, and he laughed with her. Her hair came loose, the ribbon flying away. Then back up she swung, tantalisingly close, and away again, mocking. Only then to spin back into his arms, held close and firm.
They danced with wild abandon and recklessness, pulling together, and away again, breathless, desire mounting.
Then, as the dance ended, they drank again, toasting each others skill at dancing, and then drank some more.
They danced and drank, and danced and drank, desire mounting, until their heads were spinning. Then they sat down, still drinking, and talked until they seemed to have discussed everything under the sun, and agreed on at least the half they didn't disagree on.
Draco looked at her speculatively, and drew her out on to the dance floor again. He carried alcohol well, and still felt fine, but Ginny, now, was having trouble balancing. She clung to him, swaying, and glanced up, with fear and dependence and desire naked in her eyes. He smiled, and drew her into a slow dance, holding her close against him, and now her knees had gone weak, and he was holding her up.
Silently, they left the dance floor, and he directed her steps, wavering more through fright and desire than wine, into the lift. At the top, she fell out, and he gathered her up in his arms, laughing in his throat. She laughed too, and held his coat close.
He staggered into a room, and flung her on the bed. It wasn't until ten minutes later, that Storm, who'd seen them leave, but had had trouble jetisonning her own partner, arrived. She came just in time, as Mrs. Weasley would have put it, to save Virginia from a fate worse than death.
Storm, who knew perfectly well that Flame was out of her head, and that she hadn't had any one of a number of cuts or scratches a few minutes ago, was bloody angry.
There ensued, for Mr. Malfoy, a humiliating five minutes, at the end of which he was on the way back, and for Flame, an uncomfortable five, at the end of which she was stone cold sober.
* * *
Harry felt a wave of lethargy sweep over him. It was all that he'd always imagined a first kiss to be, sweet and still, and generally quite nice.
When he looked up again, Draco and Flame had disappeared, and he didn't look for them again.
And so he danced, or rather, let her take him with her, and drank, and kissed the girl...what was her name? And, finally, he staggered back through the woods at about two AM, thoroughly drunk, although the wine was quite light, and he hadn't really had that much.
When he reached the wall, he tried to climb it, failed, and fell back in the snow. Oh well, he was comfortable here, comfortable and so warm.
Draco, making his own way back, found him there a minute or so later, fast asleep. He cursed, and shook the other boy roughly awake.
"For fucks sake Potter, what the hell are you doing? You'll freeze to death. Come on, get up, don't be a git."
"OK, OK, bu' don' pes'er me." Harry staggered to his feet, and pitched forward again. Draco laughed.
"How many have you had, then, rebel?"
"Four, I think...she was very nice...whats her name? I'm a light weight, never drink, bad..."
Resignedly, Draco picked him up again, and the two boys staggered off. This was probably going to make history as the first time a Slytherin ever put a Gryffindor to bed.
* * *
Ginny, now entirely sober, and worn out, was in the cloak room. The other girls were helping her to apply cosmetic charms to the more obvious cuts, bite marks and bruises. She sighed, remembering that she still had something to do.
"Uh, Frost, or any of you, I don't suppose that "the moonlight" means anything to you, does it?"
The others looked blank, but Storm flinched slightly.
"Storm?"
"Uh, look, Flame, can I come back with you? I'll explain, I suppose, but I'd really rather not right now. We can talk tomorrow."
Ginny was vaguely surprised. "Fine, we'll leave it till tomorrow. Thanks ."