Author's Notes:

I don't include the name of the song Blaise and Draco danced to in the chap, because the song that inspired wasn't from 1997:D, but if you want to 'hear' it in your head while you read, the song is Franz Ferdinand's 'Take Me Out.' Also, This wasn't a chapter that lent itself to an insertion of Shakespeare, but it did bring to mind lines from Romeo and Juliet, when Benvolio is chiding they'll be late to the masque and Romeo responds,

I fear too early; for my mind misgives

Some consequence yet hanging in the stars

Shall bitterly begin his fearful date

With this night's revels.

Chapter 11- Good Girls and a Bad, Bad Boy

-

Luna sat by the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, dipping her quill into a pot of ink.

"Defacing school property. For shame, Miss Lovegood!"

She looked up to see Blaise smiling, but it looked brittle and false. Luna asked calmly, "How was Hogsmeade?"

"Great. After we saw you in the Bludger, Terry and I shopped a bit and walked down by the Shrieking Shack. It was surprisingly romantic."

Blue eyes narrowed. "You don't sound very happy."

"I'm happy. Why wouldn't I be happy? Don't I look happy?"

"No, unless Slytherins look troubled when they're happy. Do they?"

"No, you loony, and no, I mean yes, I guess I am troubled...and not happy about it one bit."

What could possibly be the problem? Blaise and Terry were perfect for each other. Hadn't she thought so that first day in Muggle Studies...and had Blaise just said something about a party?

"So Terry says 'sorry baby, I promised to organise the music, spin the orbs' and rushes off. He didn't even think about asking me."

Luna replied, "Should he have?"

"Yes, he should have! I did the chocolate mousse thing for him. Couldn't he do this for me? What? Why are you smiling like that?"

"I was just thinking how kind and selfless you are, sacrificing yourself by offering to lick chocolate off a gorgeous Ravenclaw. How you must have suffered."

"Shut up, you. I should've asked him if I could go, but I wanted him to ask me, you know?"

Luna smiled. "I know. Harry didn't ask me to the Bludger, remember?"

"Yeah, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do and all that tosh." Shrugging, Blaise said, "Enough about me, how'd lunch go with Potter and his pals?"

"I think I'm making progress. Small progress, perhaps, but progress all the same, and I'm happy with it."

The other girl was looking at her sympathetically. Dramatic types were only happy with dramatic progress. Waving farewell to the edgy girl, Luna felt concerned. Blaise had hid her emotional streak very well under an act of indifference and baggy robes, but now more than her figure was revealed.

She didn't seem to be handling Terry's equanimity over spending the evening apart very well. Hopefully, nothing...imprudent...would come from it. After what little Blaise had told her about that incident with Malfoy last night, Luna was very much afraid that putting two slighted Slytherins together at this time was a very bad idea.

-

-

Draco's eyes closed while he relaxed in the large Roman-styled Prefects' bath. A slight smile curved his lips when he thought about the party soon to begin.

Crabbe and Goyle were 'encouraging' fourth years to help push the common room furniture to ring the walls. Afterwards, they would pull back and carry away the rolled carpets to create a dance floor in the centre of the space. Third years would be 'helping' Bullstrode lay out the food and drink. Parkinson would be ordering second years to arrange the lighting. Pansy might be a right bitch, but she was brilliant at Illumination Charms.

Later, the chamber would be luminous with colour-changing radiant orbs flickering in perfect synchronisation with the music. Zabini, Flint and MacDuff were sorting through the music spheres. Wizards paid a high price for the magicked globules that stored and projected the owner's favourite tunes. Most Slytherins had galleons to spare, so the amount of Orpheus Orbs contributed for tonight's bash was varied and extensive.

Thinking about Blaise brought a smile of satisfaction.

Only fifth through seventh years were invited to attend Slytherin revels, and last year the obstinate wench had refused every invitation to participate. A bark of laughter escaped. Blaise had been so amusing, sneering at what she derided as 'Bacchanalian Blow-Outs.' Even then, Draco had wondered how his prickly friend would move on the dance floor.

Tonight he would find out. Terry-Boy had promised to mind the music at his own House party. Good thing girly-locks was too dim to suggest that his girlfriend crash the House barrier and join him. Zabini would have braved the entire flock of disapproving Ravenclaws if the Nancy had been man enough to ask. Just went to show--intelligent didn't mean smart.

The happy couple was spending the night apart, and Draco planned to ensure that his close friend didn't get lonely. His laughter echoed throughout the tiled chamber.

"Ooohhh...sounds like you're planning something naughty, Malfoy."

His eyes opened to see Moaning Myrtle floating above the bath with a hopeful expression on her morosely plain face. Pale brows arching, Draco levered himself out of the water. The ghost's admiring moan while she watched water droplets trickle down his frame caused his lips to quirk--even dead girls thought he was hot. Disregarding the apparition's avid gaze, he grabbed a thick white towel and casually began to dry himself.

"Have you been working out? You're very...defined...and toned...and...Mmm…muscular..."

Deciding that the spirit had been given enough of a thrill, Draco wrapped the towel around his waist and padded over to the mirror to use a drying spell and then a comb on his hair. He deemed Myrtle's question too inane to answer.

Snubbed, the spectre accused huffily before zooming back through the wall and heading to her own bathroom, "Well! You may be more handsome, but you'll never be as nice as Harry Potter!"

Dispassionately considering his reflection, Draco pulled on black trousers and a musculature revealing black tee. The 'handsome' teen smiled, and it was anything but nice. He did work out, because girls admired defined muscles, and he enjoyed their admiration. His outfit flaunted every one. Draco hoped Blaise appreciated the striking contrast of Fae-pale hair and skin against demon black clothing. Red sure had.

Scowling briefly, he refused to remember the time under the table and in the library, how Ginny...no...Weaselette...had tried to crawl into his skin in her eagerness to get closer. Locking unwanted memories and emotions firmly away, he determined that nothing else existed tonight except his plan to be a bad, bad boy with a nice Slytherin girl.

A short while later, he smiled slightly when he heard, "Looks good, huh?"

Crabbe's blunt features were creased in a goofy grin. Gazing around the transformed common room, Draco raised a brow and nodded his approval. "Bloody good."

The romantically dimmed room was streaked with tiny flashing green lights. Slytherins decked out in their best black milled around eating and drinking. The nice girl he was seeking was nowhere in sight.

"Who's Orpheus tonight?" he asked, idly curious to know who would be spinning the musical orbs.

"Mathers...he's calling himself Slim Slytherin now."

"Merlin." The amused imprecation was for the ridiculous name as well as the sight of Goyle rushing to his side carrying a gigantic platter of food.

"Gonna be fun tonight, huh, Draco? Zabini's promised to dance with me."

"With us, Goyle," Crabbe corrected, eyeing the platter of food.

"Yeah, right...us," Goyle agreed quickly, trying to protect his food from Crabbe's poaching.

The room filled with music as 'Slim' chose a sphere and spun it to activate the music projection charm. The song had a fast, pounding dance beat. The sound drew cheers from the crowd ready to party. Slytherins began to pack the dance floor.

"No Hufflepuff slow dances for us, eh Draco?"

"Damn right, Goyle...no poncing about to classical music or whatever boring tunes Ravenclaws flop their feathers to either."

Raucous laughter reminded him that his minions were good for something other than muscle. They also appreciated his snide humour. Of course, the dolts broke down at the lift of an eyebrow like trained dogs, but that was beside the point. Tonight, the duo's chortles fell on benevolent ears.

Pansy sidled up, cooing, "They're playing our song, Draco darling."

"We don't have a song," he said with a frown, noticing the black mini dress made her legs look even more stumpy than usual. She'd slathered her face with cosmetics, too. The look didn't entice him, but maybe if Pansy waited until the wee hours and sidled up to a drunken fifth year on his way back from the toilet, the unlucky boy would ignore the girl's thick ankles and give her a snog. The ploy had worked several times last year. Several sixth years still gagged at the sight of her.

"Don't be mean darling...let's dance."

"Let's not."

Encouraged by the indifferent refusal, the pug-faced girl chatted happily with Crabbe and Goyle, undoubtedly waiting around for another rejection. Scanning the crowd, Draco wondered if Pansy's 'piggy-faced' mother had ever truly taught her daughter the meaning of the word 'no'. He saw Blaise descend the staircase, and moved to intercept her.

Silver serpent hoops glinted against dark curls as she laughed with her friends, eyes sparkling, full lips parted in a smile. Draco smirked, appreciating the curves displayed in a halter that bared arms and midriff above trousers that rode low on slender hips. Her back was bare except for two thin ties.

Vowing to run his hands all over Terry-Boy's girlfriend before the night was through; Draco met the trio at the bottom of the stairs. "Glad you decided to join the bacchanal, Blaise. Does pretty-boy know you're here?"

Her gaze looked him over and lingered, before she smiled in rueful appreciation. When the second part of his comment registered, a defiant look accompanied Blaise's explanation. "Terry didn't hang around to ask what my plans were tonight. He rushed off to arrange the music for his own House."

"He should've invited you to his party," said Fiona.

Flint was right and Draco hoped to give the ironically stupid Ravenclaw a reason to regret his mistake.

"I'm sure Terry wishes he was dancing with you instead of..." Morrigan MacDuff bit her lip, visibly dismayed at the implication of her words.

Draco laughed inwardly. Merlin, how kind these lovely girls were to do his dirty work for him. He didn't have to do anything but be sympathetic, work his Malfoy magic, and watch Zabini fall right into his waiting hands. Not right away, of course. He would be a mate, encourage her to dance, have fun, but first he needed to bait the trap. "Save a dance for me, Blaise?"

He almost reconsidered his plan at the sight of innocent dark eyes lighting up in pleasure at his request--but he didn't. Why should he be alone? Knowingly or not, Blaise was quite willing to comfort him. What was so bad about wanting a dance anyway? What happened in Slytherin House stayed in Slytherin House. No one would ever have to know.

Mingling with his Housemates, dancing with every pretty girl who asked, Draco kept track of his quarry. She had danced with Crabbe and Goyle, and several other Slytherins who were smart enough to stay at a respectable distance. Several times, he caught her watching him. His partners often commented that he had incredible rhythm for a 'white boy' or compared him to a serpent--a high compliment. Blaise obviously thought so too. Her smiling glances of admiration soothed his ego.

After several hours, he left the floor and stood watching Blaise, Fiona, and Morrigan prepare to dance. MacDuff had hooked up with some Yank over the summer, and was now announcing that she was had taught the girls some steps. Hearing a new song start, Draco waited to see Blaise in action.

Mouths dropped as the girls demonstrated that they had indeed learned some new steps. Morrigan MacDuff had choreographed a routine to match the fast-paced rhythm. Every part of each limber body was used to cross step, slide, bounce, move, sway and shake. Legs apart, Blaise slid her hands down her thighs while bending her knees to slither down before sinuously swaying upwards again. Draco wiped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand.

"Need a towel?"

Catching the towel tossed by Goyle, Draco pulled off his tee and wiped his face and chest. He saw Blaise staring. Her movements changed from athletic to sensual as she stopped dancing for herself and started dancing for him. Smiling promisingly, he pulled his shirt back on, watching the roll of her abdomen, the quick movements of slender arms and shoulders, and seductively swaying and shaking...assets...

The crowd cheered and whistled at the end of the songHis quarry looked away, biting her lip. Did she regret her provocative dance? Too bad, if so...he was off to arrange the music so he could accept her unspoken invitation with pleasure.

Holding up an Orpheus Orb, Malfoy turned steely eyes on 'Slim.' "You're going to play this one next and I want the bass to pound, Mathers."

Sauntering over to where Blaise was drinking a glass of water and brushing off the compliments of the people around her. Her gaze skittered away from his until the music started. She laughed, surprised, when he held out a hand and sang teasingly that if she was lonely, he was there, waiting. When Blaise took his hand, he backed up, swaying in sync. They reached the centre of the floor. He dropped her hand to sway faster. She was with him all the way. Draco smiled in triumph as Blaise sang along with him.

-

-

Dancing with a Slytherin love god probably wasn't a good idea, but she had promised and he had picked one of her favourite songs about a couple that know they aren't leaving together, who are just having a dance. Blaise had wanted to dance with him all night. He moved so temptingly. When Draco sang the lyrics to her, she could resist everything except temptation. Around them, Slytherins gathered, loudly singing the words and clapping in encouragement.

Swaying a few feet away from each other, Blaise and Draco moved to the compelling rhythm, drawing closer and closer until they were dancing back and forth into each other's space. Hands that began lifted above heads moving in time to the beat and the swaying of torsos and hips lowered until her hands clutched his firm shoulders and his slid around her waist. Pale strong fingers caressed her darker skin, slid around to roam her back, hips as their bodies brushed together, and drew apart.

Blaise gasped when he slid down her body to place an open-mouthed kiss against her abdomen. Rising in a fluid motion, he turned her deftly and rocked her body with his. They moved sinuously as one.

The end of the song found Blaise pressed back against Draco's chest, his pale fingers splayed across her midriff.

The crowd was chanting 'Kiss, Kiss, Kiss!'

A bright flash caused her to close her eyes and turn her head.

"Shite! Some blighter took pictures! I couldn't catch him...little rat bastard took off!" Goyle shouted.

Blaise trembled with shock, watching Draco's expression harden. Pulling her with him to the door, he directed Crabbe to look for the photographer down one corridor while he searched the other.

Grabbing Goyle's shirt, he ordered, "Shut this party down and have Flint and MacDuff help you question everyone. Someone let that little sneak in and it's your job to find out who's going to regret it."

With a nod and an apologetic glance her way, the hulking pair parted to attend their separate tasks.

Blaise caught Draco by the arm and pleaded, "I need you to tell me the password to Gryffindor. I know you keep track of that sort of thing. I have to find Colin Creevey. He's a photographer...he can tell me where to look!"

Eyes like granite shifted away and then fixed on hers. "Fortune favours the bold. Be careful--and put on a cloak, for Merlin's sake!"

Clinging to the thread of hope, Blaise smiled tremulously. "See you soon."

"Yeah...see you," Draco headed down the corridor at a swift pace.

Grabbing the first black cloak she could find, Blaise followed him out the door and ran swiftly toward the Gryffindor tower. Upon reaching the entrance, the girl brought the hood up to cover her face. "Fortune favours the bold," she murmured, feeling the curious gaze of the Fat Lady rove over her shrouded figure.

"Hide if you want to sweetie, but I wouldn't tell anyone even if I did know who you are. I'm not a gossip like some portraits I could name."

Slipping into the common room, she found that even after midnight the party was still going strong. Scanning the chamber, Blaise looked for Colin, but couldn't see his blond head anywhere. She was starting to attract unwanted attention, so she moved inside a bit more and continued her visual search.

"Who are you and what's with the cloak?"

The questioner was given a quick peek at her face. Freckles stood out against pale skin as Ginny Weasley said incredulously, "Zabini?"

"Shhh! I'm trying not to advertise the fact that a Slytherin has slinked her way into the Gryffindor tower, thanks. I just need to speak to Colin. Can you find him for me, please?"

The tears thickening her plea must have convinced that she was serious. Ginny said, "All right, wait beside the bookcase. I'll be back in a minute."

Soon, Ginny and Colin followed her out of the common room. Rounding a corner to move away from the portrait's curious gaze, Blaise turned to face the pair. She blurted, "Colin, I need to know where someone would go to develop a picture quickly."

"Don't tell her, not until she tells us why she wants to know," Ginny cut in.

Glaring, Blaise shot back, "Someone took pictures at the Slytherin party and ran off. I think he's going to develop and spread them round school. That's why I have to know! Satisfied?"

"What kind of pictures?" Colin asked.

At the end of her rope, Blaise held her cloak open so the younger boy could get a good look at her outfit. "Photos of me, dancing with someone other than my boyfriend. Get the picture now?"

"Who?"

"C'mon Colin, who do you think? Of course it's Malfoy. Zabini wouldn't be so frantic otherwise...would you, Blaise? Afraid Terry will dump you for two-timing him, is that it?"

Tears silently rolling down her cheeks, Blaise admitted, "Yes, I am, but I didn't two-time my boyfriend. It was just a dance that got out of hand and I'm...afraid...he won't believe me if he sees those bloody photographs." Covering her face, Blaise suppressed her sobs as best she could.

Colin patted her back awkwardly. "It's okay, there's only one place I can think where a photographer could develop film quickly. The third dungeon's storeroom is a darkroom, and it's not locked...anybody can go there anytime."

Ginny placed her hand briefly on Blaise's arm. "What are we waiting for, then? We'll get those photographs and if I catch the sneak who took them, I'll give him a Bat-Bogey Hex. Malfoy can tell you how much fun they are."

Wiping her eyes, Blaise gave the pair a watery smile. She refused shed any more tears. There would be plenty of reason to cry if Terry got a package of photographs.

The three students ran for the dungeon. Only once did they have to duck into a classroom, when Filch and Mrs. Norris were heard coming down the corridor.

Sitting on the floor pressed against the wall near the door, Ginny whispered, "I'm sorry I acted so hateful. Draco asked me to come to Hogsmeade, to your party and I told him no...and...we should go back to calling each other by our last names."

Colin looked astounded. "Go back...you called Malfoy by his first name? When did that happen?"

"After detention."

"Oh."

Blaise could hardly confess Draco got pissed after that happy conversation in the library and looked to her for comfort. She didn't want to break the fragile peace with the volatile girl she and Luna called Beatrice to Draco's Benedick.

She found herself confessing, "Terry didn't ask me to his party. I was pretty upset about it, and everybody was egging us on..."

"Did you kiss him?" Colin and Ginny asked simultaneously.

"No."

They looked relieved, so Blaise remained prudently quiet about innocently spending the night. If Draco and Ginny ever straightened things out, she didn't want to lose her best mate because his girlfriend didn't trust them alone together.

After the coast was clear, the trio hurried down the corridor and to the dungeon. Blaise caught a glimpse of black robe and ran full out. The sneak photographer had enough time to snatch a single dry photograph before escaping into a secret passageway.

-

-

For a quarter of an hour, Ginny tried every spell she knew to open it and follow, but nothing worked. Blaise and Colin had given up long before that and were taking down photographs hung up to dry. All three looked up as Draco burst into the chamber. His face was a study of surprise and uneasiness. Blaise looked at Ginny, her heart sinking when she saw the girl who had turned Draco down was now holding evidence that he had consoled himself with Blaise in her hand.

Staring down at the photograph, Ginny felt curiously detached. The couple was moving together like two graceful snakes...which was fitting, she supposed. Blaise was really limber. Meeting stormy grey eyes, she joked feebly, "I wouldn't have been near this good a partner."

Ginny fanned the other photographs out on the table, clinging to her detachment. If she put them in order, like so, she could see the progression of the dance from beginning to end.

That was the downside to wizard photography. You sometimes saw a lot more than you wanted to. Like an angelically handsome face, sliding down to kiss a smooth abdomen or pale hands that made you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world stroking someone else's skin.

Colin was trying to hide the last photograph. Ginny gave him a steady look, holding out her hand. Reluctantly, with an expression of mixed admiration and apology to Blaise, he gave it over.

Wow. This was...something. If there was a photograph more damning than this, Zabini was right to cry. Maybe she would join her.

The photograph suddenly turned to ash in Ginny's hand, the powder drifting down to join the incinerated remains of the others. Had she done that through unfocussed magic? No, Malfoy had his wand out. He looked away.

Ginny's eyes were stinging and it was hard to swallow. Blaise asked Colin to escort her back to her House. She wanted to know more about photography and if the remaining photograph could be duplicated. They left, talking quietly. Ginny blinked furiously. Bloody ashes...she must be allergic.

"I don't care if you can dance or not."

Well, that was nice. Of course, he could probably have her moving like Blaise in one easy lesson. Ginny would have melted like butter over him too, given half the chance. Blaise had held out a lot longer than she would. Maybe the two were just friends.

Quietly spoken words broke the silence. "You may not have noticed, but Slytherins don't take rejection too well."

"I noticed." She had rejected Draco and Blaise felt Terry rejected her when he didn't invite her to his party. Was it entirely their fault if they used each other to feel better? Remembering the crowd encircling the couple, cheering and clapping, Ginny privately admitted it was easy to see how things got out of hand.

"May I walk you back?"

Nodding stiffly, Ginny moved past Draco. Together, they walked down the passage and up the steps to the main corridor. She noticed he deliberately slowed his pace to hers. He'd done that before, and she had never appreciated it. She was too used to looking for the worst in Draco Malfoy. She never acknowledged her own faults.

Reaching the Gryffindor corridor, Ginny stopped in the same place Blaise had stood crying earlier. Tears welled. She looked up into troubled grey eyes. Strong arms encircled and drew her up against a warm masculine chest. Without robes, she felt every muscle and nothing had ever felt so good.

"I'm sorry, Draco," she whispered, tears spilling down her face.

"I'm sorry too, Ginny."

She held him tightly, wondering where to go from here.