A/N from Samwise: Wow. We didn't expect so many reviews! You should have seen us, we were grinning like idiots the entire next day! Well, ZiBl and I are going to do separate author's notes this time, so to those of you who haven't played DDR, ever, I have but three things to say. 1) You poor, poor people. 2) Go to the biggest arcade in your town as soon as you can. There will probably be a DDR machine there. 3) You'll still be able to understand this fic. I promise all we'll do is include the names of DDR songs. Anyways, I'm going to turn it over to ZiBl. Be afraid. Be VERY afraid.

A/N from ZiBl: DAMN IT! This bloody computer chair keeps falling over! What? You want me to write an author's note? OK! Actually... I have author's note writing block. This is my first author's note, you see, and I don't know what to say. THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! Hugs everyone who reviewed: I love you all! Keep reviewing, and we'll keep updating! (On a semi-normal basis) And now I'll shut up. Enjoy chapter 2!

Dancing with the Dragon

A fic by two insane idiots, a.k.a. samwise-dragoneyes and ZiBl

Chapter Two: Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

It would seem that the entire Gryffindor common room was standing there staring at the DDR machines. Dean, the resident expert, stepped forward smiling.

"Anyone else know how to play?" he asked. Three hands were raised. One was of a cocky seventh year Ginny knew by sight only, a Muggle-born named Dane. The second was a timid first year who shyly introduced herself as April. The third was, surprisingly enough, Colin Creevey. "Well, alright then! Colin can come up here and we'll play an example game." Colin voiced his agreement to this suggestion and walked up to the machine, tripping twice on the way. Ginny noted this with a distinct quirk of amusement. He's been spending way too much time with Neville lately.

When they were both positioned on the game pad, Dean turned on the machine, plugging it into the electrical outlet Dumbledore had installed and charmed to work especially for this purpose, and selected versus mode, allowing him and Colin to compete against each other. Colin and he chose different levels, as Colin was only a standard player, not up to Dean's heavy move. Placing the song play list on random, the contestants got ready to dance. The speakers below the screen began blaring a Japanese techno tune that was really quite catchy. Dean's feet were flashing so fast they appeared to be placed under a dancing hex, and Colin had no trouble stepping out his easier routine.

When the song ended, Dean turned and swept a dramatic bow to the wildly applauding crowd. "That was stage one!" he announced. "Would anyone else like to try for stage two?" Ginny stepped forward, volunteering herself. "All right Ginny! Anyone else?"

"I'll go," Dane responded.

"Alright. Ginny, step twice on the 'up' arrow to go to an easier level. Let's start you out on beginner mode. Dane, you know the drill." Dane smiled flippantly and tipped an invisible cap at Dean, then stepped onto the pad with the ease of much practice. Once they were set, Dane selected the song. It was a techno song with English words called 'Burning the Floor.' Okay. I can do this. Ginny thought to herself. And the dance began. Arrows flashed by as Ginny stepped out the easy arrow pattern. This is too easy. I've got to try this on a higher level! She thought as the song ended, glancing at the screen to find a perfect combo.

"Wow, Gin! Are you sure you've never done this before?" Dean asked in amazement.

"That was my first time. Can I try it on the next level up?" she answered eagerly.

"Sure," said Dean. "Step on the down arrow twice to change it to a higher level." Ginny stepped twice on the back arrow and went to Light Mode, the second of the four normal difficulty levels. An hour later, the entire house had tried the game, with the exception of a few such as Neville, who swore he'd kill himself and break the game as well, and the Dream Team, who muttered they had more important things to do. No one had taken to the game quite as naturally as Ginny had, but some showed talent. Dane had happily obliged them all with a freestyle performance to the DDR version of the classic children's song 'Witch Doctor.' Within seconds, he had the quickly growing crowd clapping along with him and chanting his nickname (Zidane!) as he performed such tricks as bending down and hitting the arrows with his hands as well as every other body part he possessed. Cheering with the rest, Ginny smiled to herself. Someday...she thought. Someday, I'll be able to do that.

The Slytherins stood around the DDR machines, all of them wearing almost identical looks of disgust. All of them, that is, except for Blaise Zabini. He stood slightly in front of the crowd, staring in awe at the game.

"Blaise, what are you staring at? You seem to have forgotten that you are a Slytherin, S-L-Y-T-H-E-R-I-N, and you're looking at a Muggle game with something other than genuine revulsion." Draco asked in a tone that was the most freaked-out he could manage without damaging his reputation as an emotionless prat.

Blaise looked back at his spiky-haired best friend and replied, "I used to play this game all the time when I was younger, it helped my reflexes and hand-eye coordination. Not to mention, I was rather good at it. And what's with the haircut? I thought the old bastard told you to keep it long and slicked-back as usual." Old bastard meaning, of course, Lucius.

Draco smirked as he replied snidely, "Which is exactly why I cut it. Won't dear daddy be surprised?"

Blaise grinned grimly. "Excellent, Draco. Piss off a man who'd gladly kill you rather than look at you."

"He's still my father, so he can't kill me. Mum's stronger than him anyway, and she won't let him."

"Still running to Mommy, eh, Draco?" Blaise inquired viciously. Draco opened his mouth indignantly and was about to reply with some cutting remark (of course, if it had been anyone other than Blaise, he would have hexed them on the spot) when a high-pitched voice interrupted from behind.

"DRAKIE! Darling! It is soooo cold in here; can I borrow your cloak? Please please pleaaase?" Oh God, thought Draco. Not Pansy, not now. He turned to face the pug-faced girl, the cloak in question swishing elegantly behind him. It was a beautiful garment, made of pitch-black velvet on the outside and lush emerald green velvet inside. The clasp was in the shape of a dragon, made of sterling silver with emeralds for eyes. On Draco, the effect was stunning. On Pansy... Draco shuddered inwardly at the thought.

"Pansy, I'd let you borrow it, but I'd have to burn it afterwards." With that diss, he turned and swept up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Blaise stopped staring at the DDR machine long enough to realize where Draco was going, and with one last, longing look, followed. When they were safely in their room, Draco sighed desolately.

"She's so gross. I find myself wishing on a daily basis she hadn't been born."

"Clingy too," Blaise added. "A real shame Crabbe and Goyle are so attached to her, seeing as they decided to be her bodyguards instead of yours last year." Draco made a face as he pulled on his silk PJs.

"Like I miss them! Every second I spent with those two, a brain cell disappeared, never to return. But don't remind me," he snarled, flopping onto his bed. Blaise grinned and went downstairs to play some DDR.

Ginny awoke when a hand shook her slightly. She opened her eyes to find Sarah, one of her fellow sixth years, smiling cheerfully at her.

"Huh? Whaaa..?" Ginny asked groggily.

"I'm assuming you're trying to ask why I woke you up from a pleasant sleep?" Sarah asked. At Ginny's exhausted nod, she grinned and continued. "You fell asleep in History again." Alarmed now, Ginny rubbed her eyes and looked around. Sure enough, she was sitting in her desk in the now-empty History of Magic classroom.

"Huh. Guess class must've been more boring than ever. Thanks for waking me up." Ginny had fallen asleep extremely late last night, after pulling a serious DDR-playing marathon practically until she dropped. Yawning and stretching, she got up out of the chair and turned quickly to Sarah. "Did I miss lunch?" she asked sleepily.

"Always thinking about food," Sarah said, grinning. "No, you woke up just in time to go eat. Come on." She started walking out of the room, and Ginny followed, still in a semi-conscious daze. They quickly reached the hall and found seats at the crowded Gryffindor table, though it took some negotiating. Bored, Ginny scanned the room, and her eyes slammed into a pair of steel-gray ones. Malfoy. She thought to herself in disgust. But she couldn't help thinking that he looked awfully cute with his hair spiked like that. Quickly banishing such un-Weasleyish thoughts, she concentrated on her lunch, not noticing that Draco was still watching her.

"Whatcha looking at, Drakie?" Pansy simpered. He took his eyes off Ginny and looked at Pansy, groaning inwardly. I almost prefer looking at Weasel, he thought disgustedly.

"Nothing that concerns you, Parkinson," he answered, and went back to his conversation with Blaise, who was choking down his turkey sandwich in a very un-Slytherin manner. When lunch ended, he quickly got up from the table in one fluid movement, and walked off eager to get a seat away from that horrid Pansy during transfiguration. He spotted Ginny getting up across the room, and he couldn't help but notice how the sun shone on her hair. Her red Weasley hair, he reminded himself. Shaking his head to clear all thoughts of a certain redhead, he strode off toward the classroom. Two very boring classes and a delicious dinner later, Draco retired to the common room to work on his homework.

It was while he was writing a charms paper in his long, flowing script that the owl flew in. It was a gorgeous creature, jet black and easily recognizable as his fathers. Draco sighed and pulled the letter off the owl's leg, feeding it a bit of toast that Crabbe left lying on the table that morning as he did so. It hooted softly and quickly flew off. Draco looked around to make sure no one was watching, then opened the letter. Its contents were pretty much what you'd expect.

Draco,

I am severely disappointed that you cut your hair,

as it was a sign of Malfoy pride. I will administer

your punishment when you come home for

Christmas, and I expect a letter informing me

of your reasons immediately.

-Lucius

Draco sighed and crumpled the letter. Getting up, he stalked over to the fireplace and violently threw the letter in, watching it burn with satisfaction. He then proceeded to the door in that wall that exited the common room.

"Hey Draco! Where the hell are you going?" Blaise called after him.

"To the kitchens, to get something to eat. I'll be back later." And with that, he left the room.

Ginny was doing her potions homework when Ron approached her, reluctantly backed by Harry.

"Ginny, we need to talk."

"About what?" She asked, at the same time thinking to herself, Oh crap.

"What the hell were you doing alone in a train compartment with a Malfoy?"

"Oy, not that again. As I already told you about 50 million times, I was just deciding what hexes would be best to place on him when you arrived." If he knew I was cutting Malfoy's hair, he'd kill me! And I bet Harry would help.

"I don't believe you. Now I'll ask you again, WHAT WERE DOING WITH THAT BLOODY PRAT?" Ginny sighed and stood up.

"I already told you, so SOD OFF. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to the kitchens for a snack." With that, she stormed out. Ron and Harry looked after her, surprised at her outburst.

"Must be the famous Weasley temper." Harry muttered to himself.

"Shut up, Harry. Now come on, we haven't done our Defense against the Dark Arts homework. Hermione will have a nervy b if she finds out." said Ron.

Why can't they mind their own damn business? She thought crossly to herself as she stalked down the hall. She was so busy trying to remember the right wand movement to give Ron and Harry permanent warts; she wasn't watching where she was going and ran right into someone. A strong, muscular someone.

"Sorry." She muttered from her newfound position on the ground. Looking up, her eyes slammed straight into a pair of furious storm-gray eyes.

"Watch where you're going, Weasel." Draco sneered elegantly.

"Can't you come up with any better insults? I think you're losing your touch. And why should I watch where I'm going anyway? You ran into me!"

"A Malfoy would never be that klutzy. Malfoys are superior to everyone else in all things. Name anything, and I can do it better then you."

"Oh yeah?" Ginny snapped.

"At the risk of sounding like a 6-year-old, yeah."

"Well then, I challenge you to..." Ginny trailed off, quickly trying to think of a game Draco could never hope to beat her at. Suddenly, an idea dawned on her, and she grinned. "How about... A DDR competition?"

"That stupid Muggle game?" He asked incredulously. He was about to decline and save his reputation, when he realized that Ginny expected him to say no. That infuriated him beyond all belief. He surprised himself and Ginny by opening his mouth and growling. "You're on, Red. The day after the Christmas Hols end, we work this out on that stupid machine. If I win, you have to run through the Great Hall at lunch. Completely naked. And if the impossible happens and you win, I have to..." He trailed off, arching an elegant eyebrow in her direction. Ginny smiled.

"When I win, you have to run through the halls of the school screaming your love for me, disgusting as that is. Then, you have to ask me out. Very mushily, might I add. Of course, I'll gracefully decline, and you'll be horribly embarrassed. Deal?" Draco narrowed his eyes at her.

"It's a deal. Be ready to get your sorry ass kicked."

"You're the one who's getting his ass kicked." She smirked. Malfoy looked shocked.

"You stole my smirk!"

"Incredibly mature, Malfoy. I'll see you after the hols." She turned and walked away, her head held high.

"Your nose is already big enough without sticking it in the air, Weasel!" Draco called after her. She didn't even dignify him, a Malfoy, with a response. "She's going down." Draco muttered to himself, unaware that Ginny was muttering something very similar under her breath at the same time.