Ah, now many of you are wondering: Does Ginny share Harry's curse?
The truth is...
...
...
...
I CAN'T TELL YOU!
I don't want to ruin it! If she is, it could be vital to the plot. If she isn't, you're gonna figure out how her curse is different. So be patient and bear with me!
I suggest you read this listening to 'El Tango De Roxanne' from Moulin Rouge. And I don't own the song!
Read on and enjoy please!
Chapter 7: DanceThere was a rhythmical, steadily beating music playing in the practise room. It was to this music that the duel took place. (A/N: Sorry, but think of ballroom dance music. More along the lines of the Tango than the Waltz though!)
Up. Harry's sabre hit Ginny's as she blocked above her head.
Across. With a clash, Ginny's sword met Harry's as he blocked a strike that could have carved his stomach open.
Down. Ginny blocked a downward slash at her legs from Harry's sword.
Arc. Harry blocked the blow aimed for his biceps as Ginny's sword flicked out and back in.
Again the exchange of blows was played, almost dance-like as each blow came with a perfect defence. Then it became faster. And faster.
Strike. Hit. Blow. Smite. Up. Down. Across. Front. Block. Parry. Deflect. Thrust. Forwards. Backwards. Right. Left.
The swords glistened in the torchlight of the room, the brief glimpses of light the only way of identifying their position. They moved too fast to be seen.
Finally it stopped, Ginny's blade resting at the hollow of Harry's neck, his pointed right between her breasts, angled to slice into her heart.
Barely breathing heavier than usual, they parted from each other.
"Glad that I haven't lost my touch. Can't do that on your own." Harry grinned.
"Lost your touch? Harry, this is like riding a broom. You can never lose it after you've really learnt it. Especially not after only a couple of weeks." Ginny told him exasperatedly.
He grinned at her. Just that grin made Ginny want to do things that she had never experienced. Never even imagined in the darkest and deepest recesses of her heart and mind...
"So? Now what? Magical duel? Fencing? Unarmed combat? The Pagoda?" Harry joked.
"Maybe a few dances wouldn't hurt. You're quite good when you've learnt a few steps. Not the Pagoda though. Something a little more... dangerous. The Tango?" Ginny suggested.
Harry grinned. "As you wish."
A flick of a wand began their favourite Tango. 'El Tango De Roxanne'. It was a favourite of theirs.
The first few strands of music played without lyrics. The movements were sensual, daring, fiery... dangerous. Harry had always said that the Tango reminded him of a duel. Ginny sometimes said that a duel reminded her of the Tango. Ron always said that the Tango was Ginny and Harry's future relationship – one that he'd rather not know the fruition of, being Ginny's brother and all.
Then the lyrics began.
Tango Dancer: Will drive you,
Will drive you,
Will drive you,
Mad!
Ginny spun to face Harry, her wrist caught in his hand as he slowly walked her back, his eyes fierce. He always seemed to play a part in this song. His other hand caught her lower back as she felt herself dipped, she trickled a hand over his face.
Roxanne,
You don't have to put
On that red light.
Walk the streets for money,
You don't care if
It's wrong or if it is right.
Ginny twisted each way, almost trying to escape his clutches. But then she turned back, a dangerous, seductive smile on her lips, arching her body to show a lithe figure in the tight blue dress she wore.
Roxanne,
You don't have to wear
That dress tonight.
Roxanne,
You don't have to sell your
Body to the night.
Ginny felt herself nearly on the ground, and then pulled herself up, hands on his face, leg sliding on the outside of his. They separated, the movements circling, like opponents sizing each other up.
Roxanne's Lover: His eyes upon your face,
His hand upon your hand,
His lips caress your skin,
It's more than I can stand!
Harry savagely pulled Ginny back into his arms, pulling her into the classic Tango pose.
Tango dancer: Roxanne, Roxanne's Lover: Why does my heart cry? Tango dancer: Roxanne, Roxanne's Lover: Feelings I can't fight,
You're free to leave me,
But just don't deceive me
And please,
Believe me when I say,
I love you.
At that phrase, both dancers' eyes seemed to darken as they bore into each other, miles of words stretching between them.
(Spanish dialogue)Y yo que te quiero tanto, ¿qué voy a hacer?
Me dejaste, me dejaste
El alma se me fue, se me fue corazón,
Ya no tengo ganas de vivir,
Porque no te puedo convencer
Que no te vendas Roxanne
A savage whirl of dancing followed as the words became louder, sharper, more heartfelt. The dance reflected the song perfectly.
Tango dancer: Roxanne Roxanne's Lover: Why does my heart cry? Tango dancer: You don't have toPut on that red light.
Roxanne's Lover: Feelings I can't fight. Tango dancer: You don't have to wear
That dress tonight.
Chorus: Why does my heart cry?
Tango dancer: You don't have to put on
That red light.
Chorus: Feelings I can't fight Tango dancer: You don't have to wear
That dress tonight
Roxanne
Ginny's wrists were caught between Harry's hands as he forced her back in a dangerous, deadly move.
Roxanne
She fell to the floor, looking dejected, before, whipping up, facing him with defiance and anger. He seized her in his arms.
Roxanne
As the final notes played, he almost flung her into the dip, where she looked near dead, his head bent down over the pale skin of her neck.
As the music ceased, Ginny looked up, into Harry's eyes.
What she saw was frightening and thrilling. Those emerald orbs held so many emotions, but she could see desire, want, need, along with fear, desperation... Barely concealed lust. Maybe even love, she couldn't tell. She matched stare for stare, knowing that her own desires, emotions, wants, needs were there, like books in a library for him to peruse. What was she seeing in his eyes? What did it mean?
Slowly he brought her up, not looking away from her. They were both stood.
Harry was terrified by what he could see in those chocolaty-brown eyes. Raw emotions flashes through, most too quickly to identify, but others... Many seemed to mirror his own. Want, desire, need, fear, anxiety, apprehension... Others he wasn't sure of. Did he see love? Did he see lust? What was he seeing in the eyes of his friend, opponent and dance partner, Ginevra Weasley?
Their breathing became erratic and heavy as they gazed into each other's eyes, searching, querying. They didn't notice how close their bodies were, they way Ginny's head was titled upwards, the way Harry's was tilted down, the static electricity that spilled from a single touch...
Suddenly a bell rang.
Harry leapt back, wand in hand, before remembering the sound of someone wanting to enter his suite who didn't have the password.
"Someone wants to speak to us. Come on." Harry told her.
They walked down the stairs, trying to steady their breathing and heart rates.
Harry opened the portrait hole to see Professor McGonagall waiting.
"Harry, I needed... Oh." Minerva stated, seeing their garb.
Harry was still dressed in the trousers and loose Spanish-style shirt, half-buttoned he wore for the dance. Ginny was still wearing the deep blue dress with it's tight-fitted, strapped top and flared skirt.
Harry looked down and smiled. "We were dancing. Haven't done that in a while. Helps with agility and footwork for duelling." He explained. "We just tend to dress the part as well."
Minerva raised a brow. "What dance?"
"Tango." Ginny replied, and began to smirk. "Harry's quite the dancer, you know. Once he forgets to be nervous, he's very good. Definitely gets into the part..."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Is there anything we can do for you, Minerva?"
"Yes, actually. Your presence is needed at a staff meeting. Albus only just organised it. Something about boosting student morale." McGonagall explained.
"Oh. Well, let us change and we'll be in the staff room in a few minutes' time." Harry replied.
The Transfiguration teacher nodded. "I'll see you there."
She turned and walked away, smirking.
"Let's change." Harry smiled at Ginny. "I'm not entirely sure the staff will appreciate me turning up like this."
"Some of the students might though." Ginny smirked. "And maybe one or two of the staff." She gave him a very appreciative and sultry look.
Harry couldn't repress feeling a little hot under the collar, ignoring the fact he wasn't wearing a shirt with a collar.
"Anyone in mind?" Harry asked, his voice husky.
"Oh, I've my suspicions." Ginny grinned.
They reached the landing, and the doors.
"I might be a little longer." Harry told her. "I could do with a shower."
Ginny grinned. "You could be right." She shrugged. "Dancing does tend to make you rather warm."
As if to emphasise her point, she wiped a hand over her forehead smoothing back her hair, and then over her neck, where Harry could see beads of sweat glistening. As she did so though, a strap slipped of her shoulder. Harry looked at her. It made her seem all the more seductive and nubile... No, he couldn't think of that! He also began to realise that it meant that she nothing on underneath the top part of the dress. In fact, his eyes seemed to drag to where that was obvious, and he realised that she must be very warm indeed.
Without warning, he rushed into his room, slamming the door.
'I definitely need a shower,' he thought. 'A cold one.'
# # #
About fifteen minutes later, Harry and Ginny appeared in the staff room, looking refreshed and at ease. And much more appropriately dressed. Ginny wore closed robes of a deep red, form-fitting, but not so close as to cause Harry any... discomfort. Harry merely wore black trousers, green shirt and a very dark green open robe over them. They both looked very professional and calm – the exact opposite to what was bubbling under their cool demeanours.
"I am afraid that the situation with Voldemort is growing worse. Since the beginning of term, we have already received two black letters. I fear that this will break student morale. With Hogsmeade visits few and far between, we need another way to keep spirits up." Dumbledore looked at them. "Anything feasible will be considered. Any suggestions?"
"What about on Hallowe'en?" Harry suggested. "Something other than the feast? A masquerade ball, perhaps?"
"Or at Christmas, a Yule Ball. Or a talent show." Ginny recommended.
"Yes. Yes, those could be quite uplifting." Dumbledore looked thoughtful.
"A Duelling Tournament? Or exhibition matches?" Videl considered. "I believe a number of students would like to see their DADA professors in action as they so frequently boast about their abilities."
"We do not boast!" Ginny cried.
"We merely... state. We're making a comment. It's not meant to be boastful!" Harry protested.
"A Valentine's Day Ball?" Professor Flitwick suggested. "I remember one when I was a young..."
Harry smirked. "How about a Valentine's Day Ball with a twist?" The others raised brows. "It takes forever for a guy to work up the courage to ask a girl out. Why not reverse that, and make it so the girls ask the boys?"
"Harry! That's so cruel!" Ginny cried.
"It's perfect." Harry, Professor Kettleburn and Professor Rees, the Divination Professor, declared in unison.
"It will take more planning for all of these balls and suchlike, but I believe it would be a good idea." Dumbledore nodded.
"And what about a celebration at the end of the exams, prior to the Leaving Feast? Another talent show, or a Graduation ceremony for the Seventh-years where we give the awards we really want to give." Harry grinned.
"Awards?" Minerva questioned.
"The award for causing most trouble in my class ever goes to..." Harry replied as though he was onstage.
"Sirius Black!" Half the teachers yelled.
Harry and Ginny exchanged smirks.
"See?"
"Yes, yes, very good. Well, I believe dinner will be served shortly. Best get to the Great Hall." Dumbledore told them.
Harry and Ginny smiled at each other. That was a job well done. And no said the teachers weren't allowed to have a little fun as well...
Silently making plans, the two time-travellers ate, trying not to think about the connection between them that was making spending time with each other so difficult.
The cauldron was beginning to boil...
# # #
A/N: I've had loads of lovely, wonderful reviews, but I'm not allowed to reply! Well, I probably am, but people keep getting told off for long A/Ns and I don't want to get told off. If you have any burning questions, e-mail me. But not too many at a time!
Next week, folks!
Lol, Tanydwr