Blah Blah Blah started out good, ended bad hate my writing! geez never turns out the way I want it, but o well I finished it.
Rating: PG or PG-13 if you want to measure all the alchol consumption
Pairing: Harry/Draco sigh lol
Disclaimer: damn do I ever hate these but no one wants a case filed against them so J.K.R owns them all I'm just the muse that writes all the quirky ideas down
The DifferenceSeventh year had been a real hassle and the thought of having another Yule Ball didn't brighten Harry's spirits. He still was horrible at dancing and never had gained the gall to learn after the Triwizard Tournament back in fourth year.
Yet somehow he was here, sitting in a gold backed, velvet navy cushioned chair in the Great Hall. It was nearing the end of the festivities, nearly two o' clock in the morning Harry remarked to himself.
Having no one to talk to for quite some time Harry had been sitting at one of the many miniature round tables that littered the Hall. Ron and Hermione had long since left him for somewhere much more "comfortable", and, as it was a secluded gala just for the sixth and seventh years of Hogwarts someone had spiked the apple cider and everyone had been pretty tipsy since around ten. Even the teachers had seemed to get a little intoxicated themselves, seeing as Professor McGonagall was whispering into the Headmaster's ear and suddenly breaking out in crazed giggles in response to whatever Dumbledore had whispered back. Even Snape was getting a tad drunk. Well a tad was a little restraining Harry would think as he looked back on the moment. He of course wasn't doing anything incredibly crazy, such as Hagrid giving Professor Sprout a big whiskery kiss. He was simply sitting slumped back in his straight wooden backed chair taking sips from his goblet every second or two. This of course wouldn't have done anything to any one except that he had of course started this sipping at around seven in the evening and it was now respectively getting closer to dawn its self.
Harry sighed; he didn't even know why he didn't just leave. Instead of pondering it further he decided that another swig of the spiked cider would do him a world of good better than going back upstairs to his dorm to brood on something like Voldemort, or Cedric, or Sirius or whatever other nameless face seemed fit to grace his dreams.
Less than half an hour until he would be forced to go back to his dorm he thought sourly as he glanced at his watch. Fleeting a look around the hall he noticed that many students were still either drinking if possible even more intoxicated cider or just missing altogether. Somewhere leaning on the tables drinking cider similar to what Harry was doing but others where giggling in a far corner. A whistling noise drifted over along with more laughing. Harry started to wonder why he wasn't getting up and joining them, however he didn't get that much time to ponder the thought as something black and billowing blocked his view.
" Malfoy." Harry spat out as he noticed the blond leering at him less than three feet away. " What do you want."
" Now, now. That won't do. What have I done for you to give me that tone?" Malfoy asked innocently leaning a little on one of the gold backed chairs.
" Well," Harry got ready to name off every misdemeanor that Malfoy had committed against himself, Ron and Hermione since first year when a pale finger fell on his lips.
" Now, Potter surely you didn't think I came here for a fight. Did you?" the blond asked simply.
" Well… n-n-n-no. Not exactly." Harry stuttered with Malfoy's ghostly finger still on his lips. Was he imagining this? It must be all the alcohol finally getting him and maybe Malfoy had some too.
" Fighting, brawling, dueling… you know they all have different a meaning."
" Err… yeah I guess so." Harry slurred wondering where Malfoy was taking this.
" Would you care to dance Potter?" Malfoy asked abruptly offering his pale hand.
"Erm.." Harry had no idea what would make him do this, or why Malfoy would ask such a thing but he would definitely attribute it to the alcohol later, " Sure." Harry stuck out is own hand , Malfoy directing them both to the dance floor in the middle of the hall. A thought suddenly struck Harry. Who was going to lead. This thought seemed most absurd because one: he couldn't lead anyway so that he was hoping it would be Malfoy, and two: this was Malfoy! He had agreed to dance with Malfoy! He quickly skimmed the hall and amazingly no one saw or were even watching them glide quietly onto the dance floor. This was so odd. He would never ever drink alcohol again if this was going to happen. Yet it strangely seemed right.
Malfoy had thankfully taken the lead and was now wrapping his arm around Harry his hand grasping him near the waist, while the other carefully laced with Harry's own. Getting the hint Harry lifted his other hand to rest carefully on Malfoy's shoulder.
Well this feels odd. Malfoy had started them moving around the hall. Revolving gracefully to a waltz.
" One, two, three. One, two, three." Malfoy whispered in his ear.
This had gone on for about another minute or so when Harry had stopped stepping on feet and was beginning to glide around with unusual grace that wasn't normal for him at least unless he was on a broomstick.
Malfoy had stopped counting steps in Harry's ear now for quite sometime and he had startled Harry when he spoke to him, his warm breath ghosting over his ear.
" Fighting is often referred to as dancing you know." Harry wondered where that had come from when Malfoy continued talking. " Although the two are very different. Would you like to know how they are different, Harry?"
That had caught his attention. Never, not once had Malfoy called him by his first name. It just wasn't done. Suddenly interested Harry perked up his head from where it had moved to lay on Draco's shoulder. " How?" he enquired.
" Like this—"
NOTESWould you like to know how dancing is different from fighting? Should I write a Draco POV of this? Hmmm …. should I even continue this?
