A/N: Hello all. Many, many, many apologies for the extreme lateness of this chapter (for those that are wondering … it has been eleven months and two weeks – practically a year, yikes). I'm soooooo sorry! I just had a major writer's block for the best part of the year, and was only really inspired about a week ago (and I'm not even going to go into all the coursework/homework I'm getting, although I'm not exactly working up a sweat trying to meet my deadlines). This chapter was quite hard to write, although there's not really much happening in it, nothing incredibly integral to the plot (I don't think). It was hard to write fillers, to join one part to another. And the Sorting Hat song … don't even get me started. Really difficult to make it sound even remotely wise. So I'm truly sorry that the Sorting Hat's song is shit, I hope you forgive me for that. But anyway, despite certain spots of crapnosity, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Thank you to Dora-the-elda (thanks for pointing out the typo and the long, ramble-full sentence that was hard to understand. And thank you for those couple of lines for the Sorting Hat's song, which you may be pleased to see I used. And thanks for your praise about the chapter – you best be careful my ego doesn't get too big, lol!), Ahja Reyn (lol, sorry it took you so long for you to read it, hope you liked it though!), kim ('k, updating! Sorry it took so long, though!), Layce74 (yay! thanks!), Demitria Miriam (lol, yay! That's great, I'm very happy you love it:) Yup yup, I shall make sure to update lots and lots, just as you said! However, it takes me five million years to update, so sorry about that, lol. The seducing shall start next chapter. Probably. So stay tuned!), Alora (fear not, I am sure that Harry will be careful. Ish. Sorry it took me ages to update!), Machi (I quite agree! Not with the awesomeness – although thank you muchly for that:) – but with my chapters coming so far apart. I know, and I'm sooooo sorry it's taken me a gazillion years to update, but I promise I will try to get them out sooner! Hope you enjoy this one!), Miss Moonlight (sorry it's taken me such a long time to update!), silvertips (I hope that was a good 'holy crap', lol. Whoops, that came out kinda wrong … Anyhow, sorry it's taken me so long to update! I'll try – stress on the try – to update sooner next time!), Ashes of Stars (yay, thanks! Hope you enjoy this chappy!), TinyClownBean1 (yay, thank you! Sorry it's taken so long to update, but I hope you enjoy this chapter! Your name is v. cute, by the way, lol:)), fifespice (I know, Ginny is a slut – I don't even know why I'm making her one, since I actually like her character, lol! Anyhow, about the bet, you shall have to wait and see! Sorry it took a while for me to update, enjoy the chappy!), nickainai (yay! Glad you're interested! Sorry it took me so long to update, hope you enjoy this chapter!), MachiavellianOrange (lol, indeed you are right! But I meant to put across how bored she was while he was talking – so bored that she'd prefer looking at a wall, lol), Phinea (yay! I'm very glad you think it's funny and well-paced! I thought it was a bit slow myself – I mean, it's been three chapters and they haven't even got to Hogwarts yet, lol – but I'm glad you like it. Hope you enjoy this chapter!), MY MinD (hope I didn't keep you waiting too long … um … yeah … lol, hope you enjoy this chapter!) and little kitsune (yay, so glad you love it! And hmm, who says that Harry's going to find out? This is me trying to entice you into reading and reviewing regularly by the way, lol!) for reviewing. Guys, your reviews always make me smile, and remember, don't be too scared to give any criticisms you think might help me make the story better! Keep reviewing, folks, and I'll keep this story going (well, I'll keep it going anyway, but you know what I mean)!
Title: The Skill of Seducing
Author: MoonlightPhoenix1
Genre: Drama/Romance
Rating: R
Summary: SLASH. Draco swings both ways, is an acclaimed sex-god and boy does he know it. It is widely known that Harry Potter is straight and has a girlfriend of one year, Ginny Weasley. What happens when something that started off as a bet starts to get out of hand? RE-WORKED.
With the lights out
It's less dangerous
Here we are now
Entertain us
I feel stupid
And contagious
Here we are
now
Entertain us
A mulatto
An albino
A
mosquito
My libido
Yeah
- 'Smells Like Teen
Spirit', Nirvana
The Skill of Seducing
Chapter 4: Harry's (Semi) Existent Libido
Draco Malfoy could be seen scowling heavily, and taking long, quick strides to his table in the Great Hall. Blaise Zabini was struggling to catch up with him without looking too desperate. He seemed to be pleading.
A few people had, as per usual, turned around to stare at Draco with poorly-concealed lust all over their respective faces, but not many people were paying that much attention to the two Slytherins.
"Draco, come on, man … it was just a joke … I didn't, like … mean it or anything …" Blaise was saying.
Draco turned around suddenly, grey eyes flashing.
"As much as you may wish to believe so, I do not appreciate being felt up by my so-called 'straight' friend."
"But Draco, I-"
"Six times in two minutes!"
"Hey, you know, that was an accide-"
"While I was half-naked!"
"Look, I didn't mean to-"
"You're never getting near me when I'm changing again, got that, Zabini?"
"But Draco, I-"
"I said, got that?"
"… Alright, I got it. But Draco, seriously, I'm-"
Draco turned around and strode off to the end of the table, still scowling. Fucking Zabini. Draco was now officially rather pissed off. Where did Blaise come off having the audacity to put his hand on his chest, and then on his arse? Six times?
Not that he'd complain if … Harry Potter, say, had tried to feel him up, but Blaise was his friend, his partner-in-crime, his comrade-in-arms. Yes, he had slept with him, but Blaise had been at the 'experimenting' stage, and had told Draco that he'd decided he was straight three weeks after, and they had a purely non-sexual friendship (mainly because Draco couldn't stand to be tied down, and, well, mostly because he didn't find Blaise all that sexy, although he was rather good-looking) and-
Draco blinked. Had he just thought 'I wouldn't complain if Potter felt me up'? Quickly, in his head, he back-tracked through his previous thoughts. He blinked again.
Bugger. He was really getting into this bet thing, wasn't he? And it was only the first day of term!
"Draco?" a hesitant voice came behind him. Draco sighed, and turned around. Blaise wasn't looking Draco in the eyes, and was wriggling his fingers about nervously. "Draco, look, man, I'm really, really sorry, if I had known that-"
"Oh, stop grovelling, Zabini, it really doesn't suit you," Draco said, grinning, his mood suddenly making a 360 degree turn. Blaise looked into his friend's face and grinned back.
"Alright!" he said, and shoved a second-year Slytherin out of the way ("Hey!") so that he could sit next to Draco. "Damn, Malfoy, I thought you'd be PMS-ing on me the whole goddamn week! You're such a drama-queen, you know! I mean, really, I grab your arse, and you're all 'ooh, stop that' like a first-year Hufflepuff, and-"
And Blaise rambled on, trying to sound more 'masculine', and trying to get Draco to forget the fact that he was about two minutes away from going down on both knees and begging Draco to forgive him in front of the blonde's steely grey eyes.
Draco rolled aforementioned steely grey eyes, which weren't actually quite as steely as it was rumoured.
"Yes, Blaise, I get the picture, you can quit with the insults."
Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron were talking to Neville, who was sitting opposite them. Neville had grown quite a bit over the summer – he was now as tall as Harry – and this had caused quite a bit of a shock (for Ron, at any rate, who seemed to have forgotten that other people had growth spurts too, as he'd always been the tall one).
"How was your summer, Nev?" Ron asked him, grinning.
"It was good, thanks," Neville said. "Hi, Harry," he said quietly, tentatively smiling at the Boy Who Lived.
"Hey, Neville," Harry smiled back.
Neville looked quite relieved – most probably because Harry wasn't being moody or broody or silent like he had been last year.
"How was your summer, guys?"
Ron shrugged.
"It was good."
"Oh, I'll bet it was …" Seamus put it, winking. "I heard you had Hermione over …"
Ron blushed beetroot red.
"Yeah … well … so?" he said. Seamus just laughed, and turned around to talk to Lavender. Ron blushed even more, but then moved his eyes searchingly across the Great Hall, looking for his girlfriend.
Hermione was standing nervously by the teachers' table, smoothing down her robes and biting her bottom lip. She was meant to make a speech because she was Head Girl, and although she had been told that she was allowed to sit with her friends until the Sorting began, she had been way too nervous and had told her best friends that she would prefer to just get up there and wait until she had to make the speech, and then scurry back to her seat.
It seemed like she was regretting her decision now, though.
"Mine was OK," Harry said, referring to his summer (and effectively bringing Ron's attention back to the Gryffindor table). "What did you do, Neville?"
"Well, it was good, 'cause Gran signed me up for this fitness course thing, and I've really improved my physical area of well-being!" Neville informed the other Gryffindors happily.
Harry nodded. Neville did look as though he'd lost a bit of weight – he didn't look quite so round-faced as before. In fact, he also no longer looked clumsy. It was rather odd to see Neville Longbottom not looking clumsy.
Of course, right after Harry had thought that about the guy, Neville promptly managed to hit himself in the face with his own hand, fall backwards off his seat, and somehow end up with his head up a Ravenclaw third year's robes.
"Excuse me!" the Ravenclaw girl spluttered indignantly.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so, so, sorry," Neville apologised, trying to sit back up, but only succeeded in getting his head stuck further up the girl's robes.
Ron, laughing, helped him up (without anymore embarrassment for poor Neville), apologised to the young Ravenclaw (who was looking disgusted, but somewhat amused), and helped Neville back to his seat, patting him on the back and saying (referring to his 'physical area of well-being'), "That's great, Neville!"
Harry chuckled. Neville was still the same – still as clumsy as ever, despite not looking it.
"Uh, anyway, I also did a bit of work experience in Herbert's Herbal Company this summer," Neville said quickly, attempting to get Dean and Seamus to stop sniggering at his brief escapade, "that's a wizard herbal-Healing company, and it grows all kinds of different magical plants, and sends them off to St Mungo's so that they can be used in healing potions and remedies. I spent about two weeks working with the company, and they told me that I was amazing, and that I would be a great addition to their team! So, I'm, uh," Neville blushed a bit, "I'm kind of thinking about working there full time when I leave Hogwarts."
"Nev, that's great!" Ron said, while Harry nodded, grinning. "Merlin, I wish someone would tell me that I was amazing at some job!"
"What do you want to do after Hogwarts, Ron?" Neville asked him curiously.
"Well, I'm kind of thinking that I might work at Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, you know, the shop my brothers run-"
"Everyone knows about that!" a fourth-year Gryffindor sitting next to Ron butted in. "They're, like, the idols of all pranksters-in-training!"
Ron glared at the boy. Harry knew it was because he still had issues with being 'overshadowed' by his older brothers.
"Hey, sorry, just felt like giving you my opinion."
"Yeah, well, keep your opinions to yourself until you're asked for them in the future!" Ron snapped. The fourth-year shrugged, and started talking to his friends. "Anyway, as I was saying," Ron continued, "I might work there for a bit, you know, to get a bit of extra cash, and then, afterwards … well … I dunno, really." He paused, looking thoughtful.
Thank Merlin! Harry thought. At least not everyone knows what they want to do after Hogwarts apart from me.
However, it appeared he thought too soon, for Ron said, sounding embarrassed, "I'm … it sounds stupid, but … I'm thinking about trying out for the Chudley Cannons, because, well, you know, they just rule, and if I don't get in, then maybe doing something to do with chess, I guess."
"That's cool," Neville said, and then turned to Harry. "What about you?" he asked.
"Merlin, don't even ask me!" Harry groaned. "I have no bloody clue! I mean, there's nothing that I'm particularly good at …"
"Pfft!" Ron scoffed. "Come on, Harry, you're an amazing Seeker!"
"Yeah!" Neville agreed. "And you've fought the bad guys lots of times! You're good at Transfiguration and Charms! You could be an Auror!"
Harry winced.
"No, thank you. I've had enough bad guy-fighting to last me a lifetime, and I haven't even killed Voldemort yet!"
Neville and Ron both flinched at the name, but tried to pretend they hadn't. Harry just ignored the flinching – it was easier not to get annoyed if he pretended that people were not still afraid to say 'You-bloody-Know-Who's' name.
Talking of killing Voldemort and generally fighting the bad guys, Harry had, indeed, thought about becoming an Auror in his fifth year. However, that thought had quickly evaporated into nothingness once Sirius had died. After all, how the hell could he, Harry, hope to protect hundreds of innocents – Muggles and wizards alike – when he had stupidly led his friends into a trap and couldn't even save his own godfather? He did still feeling slightly drawn to the Auror job, but chose to talk about it disdainfully, hoping that he might finally convince himself that being an Auror was, in fact, not right for him.
"Well then, flying," Ron's voice suddenly said, and Harry blinked, and was quickly drawn out of his reverie. "Hey, you could get onto Puddlemere United, you know, the team that Oliver Wood plays for!" Ron said excitedly.
"I dunno …" Harry said reproachfully, looking gloomy. The truth was – and he had never told anyone this, but – he wasn't so sure that he would survive after the War.
Hell, 'neither can live while the other survives' could mean anything! It could mean that Harry couldn't live if Voldemort was still alive, it could mean Voldemort couldn't live while Harry was still alive, it could mean they both couldn't live while the other was alive and would end up killing themselves, or each other, it could mean … fuck, there were so many possibilities! Harry had given this a lot of thought over sixth year, and he had decided that it probably meant that him and Voldemort would end up killing each other, and the wizarding world would be safe.
After all, then there would be no one to kill and torture them – Voldemort – and there would be no one getting them all killed because of his tremendous stupidity – Harry.
Which was exactly why he couldn't become an Auror.
Harry was pulled out of his dark thoughts by an arrival behind Neville. It was a pretty girl who looked as though she was in sixth year, with dirty-blonde, shoulder-length hair and pale eyebrows. She looked quite familiar, but Harry, in his being-consumed-by-my-own-thoughts-state, failed to recognise who she was.
"Hello, Neville!" the pretty girl said, kissing Neville on the cheek.
Neville turned around and smiled, blushing.
"Hey," he said shyly.
"Wahey, Neville! Who's this beauty, eh?" Ron asked, grinning, apparently not recognising the girl either.
Harry squinted at the girl. Her house badge told him that she was in Ravenclaw. She actually did look quite familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it …
She looked right at him, and it was then that he noticed she had radishes hanging off her ears.
"Hello Harry," she smiled, a dreamy look about her.
"Luna!" Harry said, eyebrows going up in pleasant surprise. He grinned. "I hardly recognised you!"
Beside him, Ron choked on some air.
"Woah!" he spluttered. "Luna, you're so … hot!" he said, sounding rather surprised (which Harry would have imagined a girl might find quite insulting).
Luna blushed, Neville looked a bit nervous, and the Boy Who Lived raised his eyebrows. It was a good thing Hermione wasn't there to hear that.
Luna and Ron had gone out for around two months at the beginning of sixth year, and since then, Hermione's dislike of Luna had intensified a bit. Not that she disliked her, really, no. She just wasn't all that happy if Luna ever hung around with him. Not that she thought Ron still had a thing for his ex, but … if Hermione had heard those words, she might have flipped, so Harry was thankful she wasn't there.
"Thank you, Ronald," the Ravenclaw said in that way of hers, blushing demurely.
Harry saw that Neville was looking a bit nervous.
"Neville, are you two …?" Harry asked.
Neville smiled and nodded, blushing.
"Yeah. We started going out a few weeks ago. We both met at Herbert's Herbal Company and were working on a project together, and, well … we liked each other, I guess," Neville blushed again.
Luna smiled, and kissed him on the cheek again.
"Hey, congratulations, mate!" Ron said cheerfully, smiling.
"Th-thanks, Ron," Neville stuttered slightly, eyes wide. He was obviously happy that Ron wasn't angry he was going out with his ex.
"You look really good, Luna," Ron told the girl.
"Yeah, your eyes are …" Harry didn't quite know how to say 'not as protuberant as before' in a nice way, so he just settled for, awkwardly, "different."
Luna smiled.
"All I did was get a hair-cut. Dad said that my hair was getting too long." She then leant across the table and whispered to Harry, as if he might like to try it sometime, "And the reason my eyes are so different is because I've discovered the infinite magic of using black eyeliner on the inside rim of my eyes." She smiled at his confused expression after sharing this little pearl of girl wisdom with him, told Neville she'd see him later, and went back to the Ravenclaw table.
Ron was staring after her, so Harry nudged him.
"Mate, I seriously recommend you don't do that in front of Neville – or Hermione," Harry said quietly.
Ron blinked.
"I … I've got no idea what you're talking about!" he said quickly, but blushed, which led Harry to believe he wasn't telling the truth.
"Quiet, guys! The Sorting's about to begin!" hissed Parvati Patil, who was sitting next to Neville, looking as elegant as ever.
Harry blinked, realising that there was a long line of first-years, watching the hat that Professor McGonagall had placed on the three-legged stool carefully. He felt an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realised that this was the last time – the last time ever – that he would hear the Sorting Hat sing its song, for he wasn't going to be here next year.
The whole hall was silent, and the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth, and then it began to sing:
I'll look into your heads
And I'll tell you what I see,
And then I will decide
In what House you ought to be!
Should it be the house,
Of the noble Gryffindor?
Or would you like to be,
In the clever Ravenclaw?
Or perhaps the house of Hufflepuff
Is more suited to your taste,
Or maybe in Slytherin
Your talent will not go to waste.
Gryffindor takes those
That are brave, and good and kind,
Ravenclaw takes those
That are wealthy of wisdom and mind.
Slytherin picks those
That are pure of blood and wit,
And Hufflepuff picks those
That in warm-heartedness are fit.
However, I must implore
The most important thing you remember:
Is that divided though we may be,
It takes a lot to not surrender.
You are what you are,
And in your house you must go,
But do not deny opportunities
That arrive to help you grow.
We are stronger together
Than we are apart;
All four houses in unity
Make a school four times as smart.
But honestly, what do I know?
After all, I am just a hat.
Although it would do you well to remember:
There is always much more to the story than that.
So take off your hats, and fill your cups,
And start to shout and cheer;
For Hogwarts, though old
Is open for another year!
The Sorting Hat finished its song, and there was a round of applause from the Great Hall. Harry clapped particularly hard, still thinking about how this was the last time he'd heard his song, and Hermione seemed to be thinking along the same lines, for Harry swore he saw her wipe her eyes with her sleeve as she clapped.
There is always much more to the story than that, Harry mulled over the Sorting Hat's words. Not always true. Some people really are just what they seem. Take Malfoy, for example. He seems an attractive, devious bastard, and hey! You know what? He is! Harry thought, briefly wondering why he kept thinking of Malfoy.
The Sorting Hat's song seemed quite … cryptic (for example, 'It takes a lot not to surrender'.Not to surrender what?). Well, not cryptic, so much as so far out no one would give it a second thought (apart from Hermione). The line 'All four houses in unity' alone was enough to make Harry laugh.
Ginny winked at him from a few seats away, and the Boy Who Lived felt himself start to blush. He gave her a smile in return.
Once the applause had stopped, the whole Hall went quiet again, for Dumbledore stood up.
"Welcome, everyone, to another wonderful year at Hogwarts. I am sure that many of you are looking forward to the new school year-"
Harry caught sight of Zabini and Malfoy smirking at each other.
"-and others are looking forward to it even more, as this will be the year you do your Ordinary Wizarding Levels, or your NastilyExhausting Wizarding Tests-"
Ron groaned quietly, and muttered, "Nice of him to remind us of that."
"-for which I can only wish you the best of luck, but those shall happen further on in the year, so there is no need to think about such subjects now. However, as the subject of new things has already been broached, may I please introduce our new Potions and Charms Teaching Assistant, Malagda Fitswibble, who wishes to be known as Malagda."
Teaching Assistants had been introduced in Harry's sixth year, and they helped with a variety of different subjects for first years, fifth years, and seventh years.
A kind looking witch with light brown hair and a friendly smile stood up briefly while a polite round of applause sounded throughout the Hall. Harry saw Malfoy leering at the witch slightly, and brought his attention back to the teachers' table rolling his eyes. Typical Malfoy. Still, Harry hoped that this Teaching Assistant was as friendly as she looked, for, by some miracle-or-other (Harry suspected that part of it had been Dumbledore's doing), Harry was taking NEWT-Level Potions (despite his strenuous objections that he didn't need it to become an Auror, which was the point of all the lessons he was taking, as Harry hadn't really shared with any of the teachers his strong desire to avoid all Auror-like professions).
In his Potions class were (as far as he knew) Hermione, Dean Thomas, Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Terry Boot, Michael Corner, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. They had all been put into one class although they were in different houses because there hadn't been enough people taking Potions to make two classes (not that Harry was surprised in the least, considering the fact that Snape had scared them all into wanting to drop the subject since the very first Potions lesson any of them had ever had).
Dumbledore waited until the applause had died down, and then said, "And may I also introduce to you Douglas Whittle, our new Transfiguration and Herbology Teaching Assistant, and Henry Djaiinumukuluumiko, our new Divination and Astrology Teaching Assistant."
A young man in his mid-twenties with wavy brown hair and friendly eyes stood up, smiling, gave a little mock-bow (which made a few people laugh), and sat back down (Harry believed this was Whittle). A few moments later, a dark-skinned man older than Whittle stood up, nodded curtly, said in a low, weathered voice, "If my name is too hard to remember, you may call me Mister Djaii," and sat down again (Harry now knew that this was Djaiimanu-Djaiina-Djaiinumkumuno- aw, screw it, Djaii).
The Gryffindor caught sight of Malfoy again, this time eyeing both male Teaching Assistants with heavy interest. Harry turned around, feeling disgusted – Merlin, Malfoy perved on everything that moved, how the hell could Harry even been vaguely jealous of his physique or whatever it was that he had felt jealous of back on the train? Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you're rooting for), in doing this (i.e. turning away in disgust), Harry missed Zabini hitting the blonde on the head and hissing something to him, while nodding his head in Harry's direction.
After the applause had died down again, Dumbledore looked very stern as he said, "And may I remind you all that getting involved in romantic liaisons with any member of the staff, Teaching Assistants included, can result in the expulsion of the student, or the professor, and in some cases, both."
Harry could tell that this was aimed directly at Malfoy (who was currently smirking all over his pale face), who had got all four Teaching Assistants sacked from Hogwarts last year, as they all had – from what Harry had heard – slept with Malfoy, or had engaged in some sort of sexual activity with him.
Dumbledore's voice interrupted his chain of thought.
"I regret to inform you that we do not have a Teaching Assistant for Defence Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic this year, but this shall not be a problem as Mister Djaiinumukuluumiko and Ms Malagda have admirably agreed to help a little in both subjects along with the ones they will be fully helping in," Dumbledore said cheerfully, nodding at Djaiinamamamu-thingy, who nodded back in a dignified way, and smiling at Malagda, who smiled brightly back.
"May I also introduce this year's Head Boy and Girl: Mister Draco Malfoy of Slytherin, and Ms Hermione Granger of Gryffindor."
The Great Hall rang with applause, with the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables clapping the hardest. Ron and Seamus cheered and whooped, and there were a number of catcalls (Hermione blushed at her place by the teacher's table). Harry cheered loudly too, and his eyes unconsciously flicked to the Slytherin table – more specifically, to Malfoy.
Malfoy was smirking so smugly it was as if Dumbledore had just announced him to be Supreme Ruler of the Universe – a number of Slytherins were leaning in and congratulating him, shaking his hand and sucking up to him in general, Harry noticed, and cringed in disgust.
Dumbledore waited for the applause to die down, and then said, "Ms Granger would now like to speak to you, so I will appreciate it if you remained silent throughout." The Headmaster sat down, and looked at Hermione, who flushed as she realised that all eyes were now on her.
"Umm," she squeaked.
Harry winced inwardly – Hermione had always been a bit nervous about speaking in front of a big group of people (classes didn't count), and he hoped that she'd be able to do her speech (whatever it was), well.
"Uhh … Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to, um," Hermione faltered slightly as a number of people had started whispering amongst themselves, already having lost interest, "tell you about, er …" she carried on.
Harry glared at those few that were talking at the Gryffindor table, and they stopped as soon as they saw his look. However, this particular trick did not work on other houses.
Hermione paused, and took a deep breath.
"You can do it, 'Mione," Harry muttered under his breath.
Hermione straightened and carried on, more bravely than before, "I am going to briefly tell you about a number of, uh, extracurricular activities that shall be happening this year."
Some of the people in the Great Hall that were talking before started talking a bit louder, as the phrase 'extracurricular activities' was not usually an exciting one.
Hermione, however, ignored them, and just raised her voice.
Harry, with a somewhat annoying curiosity, looked over at Malfoy again, and found (to his surprise), that Malfoy was not one of those talking during Hermione's talk. On the contrary, he looked as though he was actually paying attention, which Harry found rather surprising.
"During the Christmas holidays, there will be a Winter Ball," Harry saw Lavender and Parvati (and a few other girls) gasp delightedly, and begin whispering fervently amongst themselves, "only for those in fourth year and higher," Hermione continued, ignoring the loud groans from the younger years "although younger persons may come only if invited by an older student. Also, sometime in April there will be a Leavers Ball only for seventh years, although, again, those from younger years may come only if invited by a seventh year," a few groans of complaint arose at this from the younger students, but Hermione ignored them, as she still was not done. "There is one main rule for both Balls, and it must be followed, otherwise you shall not be allowed to go the Ball: your escort to the Ball must be from another house."
There was an instant uproar in the Great Hall.
"What?" Seamus yelled, looking upset. "She can't expect us to go with blimmin' Slytherins, can she? Has Hermione gone crazy, or somethin'?"
"Oi! Don't you insult my girlfriend!" Ron snapped, although he, too, looked rather put out.
"Hey, guys," Dean put in, "I don't think Hermione made the rules …"
"Oh, shut it!" Seamus snapped.
Dean shrugged, looking a little hurt.
Harry wasn't sure how he felt about this whole Ball thing. His first thought was: that means I can't go with Ginny. He was surprised that he was unsure whether he was happy or upset about this fact. His mind drifted to Malfoy, for some insane reason, and he snorted to himself (this earned a worried look from Ron) as he imagined Malfoy going to the Ball with a second year Hufflepuff.
Harry's eyes drifted to Malfoy, who was (to his surprise), looking rather pleased, quite unlike Zabini, who was scowling darkly for some reason. The Slytherins around them were also scowling, and talking loudly, and making rather threatening hand gestures …
Suddenly, Malfoy looked right at Harry, and Harry averted his eyes in shock, and felt a blush creep up on his cheeks (well, his cheeks felt hot, at least) for the fact that he had been caught staring, and at Malfoy, no less.
He missed Malfoy's satisfied smirk as he turned his head.
Harry's eyes somehow managed to land on Dumbledore, who was looking at Harry, smiling benignly, and his eyes were twinkling incredibly brightly, even for him.
Harry felt himself start to grin slowly – Dumbledore obviously wanted to encourage house unity or something, crazy old man.
"SILENCE!"
The entire Hall instantly fell silent.
Snape had stood up, skin still sallow (but now flushed with anger) and nose still hooked, and had yelled the word. It had an instant impact on the school, as everyone was used to Snape being silent and dangerous, not loud and livid.
"Umm, thank you, sir," Hermione said graciously to Snape, who didn't even acknowledge her and merely sat down, breathing heavily (Harry thought he saw him mutter, 'annoying kids'). "Anyway, that is the main rule, but please note that only your escort needs to be a member of another house – during the Ball, you may converse, dance and entertain yourself with whoever you like. This is being done in the hopes of encouraging house unity," the muttering started again, "and showing all those involved that it is possible to enjoy oneself with someone one might never have thought one would have liked before."
Harry blinked. Well.
At least Hermione looked like she meant what she was saying.
Harry randomly had an image of himself dancing with Snape (the greasy bastard), and shivered with disgust. Snape then turned into Malfoy, who Harry was surprised to find did not evoke as much disgust in him as Snape had. Well, Snape was a teacher, Harry told himself. That would have been just wrong.
Also, he wasn't gay, Harry remembered, blinking. Funny how that was the last thing he realised.
"I am convinced that this is a good idea, and that all members of the school that attend the Balls will enjoy themselves," Hermione said firmly in conclusion, ignoring the grumbling from the Slytherin table. "Oh!" she suddenly remembered, looking over at the Teachers Table, "and thank you for making me Head Girl."
There was a smatter of laughter around the Great Hall, and Hermione blushed, and looked at Dumbledore, smiling nervously. The Headmaster stood up, and nodded at Hermione.
"Thank you, Ms Granger. Please, take a seat at your table." Dumbledore smiled.
Nodding, Hermione nervously walked to her place between Harry and Ron at the Gryffindor table, and sat down, blushing due to the hundreds of pairs of eyes that were still fixed on her.
"May I remind everyone – as I do each year – that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students, especially during these dark and dangerous times," Dumbledore said gravely. The mood in the Great Hall seemed to darken with his words. "May I also remind everyone that all items from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes are banned from the corridors of Hogwarts, on order of our caretaker, Mister Filch. Especially, as I quote him, 'those darn mushy love potions'," Dumbledore smiled, and the mood in the Great Hall lifted again, as quite a few girls (especially those in younger years, Harry noticed) giggled shrilly.
After a few more general notices and such, Dumbledore concluded his speech:
"And now, members of the school, I have a couple of words of great wisdom that I should like to share with you: Bonne appetite!" Dumbledore clapped his hands, and suddenly, the tables were full of the delicious food Harry had usually come to expect from the House Elves below the Great Hall.
Said Great Hall roared with applause (and not just the Hall; the people in it, too). Harry found himself clapping more vigorously than ever, considering this was the last Welcome-Back speech he would hear from Dumbledore at the start of the school year.
When the applause was over, Ron immediately piled his plate with a massive helping of potatoes, roast chicken, sausages and mash, while Hermione looked on in vague disgust. Harry soon followed Ron's lead (although with less food than the redhead).
Food was delicious, although conversation was less so. Everyone seemed so interested in what everyone else wanted to do when they finished school, and frankly, Harry did not want to even think about it, let alone talk about it.
"What do you think Draco Malfoy's gonna do when we finish Hogwarts?" Lavender asked thoughtfully.
Harry's ears perked (of their own accord, I assure you), and he tuned into the conversation.
Ron snorted in reply to Lavender's question.
"Become a Death Eater, of course!" he said as though it were obvious.
"If 'e's not one already, that is," Seamus added darkly.
Harry frowned. He knew that it was probably true – Malfoy was, or would be, a Death Eater – but for some reason, he found it kind of hard to imagine Malfoy serving Voldemort. Malfoy just didn't seem the type of guy to be someone else's puppet, despite all the 'my father' shit he had going on. The guy had one hell of an attitude, one hell of a superiority complex, and Harry just could not imagine a guy like that demeaning himself and taking himself down to his father's level by kissing the hems of Voldemort's robes.
Then again, Harry didn't humour himself with thinking that he knew what went on in Malfoy's twisted mind. He reckoned he'd die from the shock of what he found there, especially the mental images Malfoy probably conjured up whilst looking at everything with two legs and reproductive parts.
"Don't be ridiculous, Seamus, Voldemort wouldn't be recruiting seventeen-year-old boys as Death Eaters," Hermione sniped.
"Yeah, he'd wait a month or two until they were eighteen," Dean said, but smiled at Hermione to show that he was kidding about. The group of seventh year Gryffindors laughed at that, and Harry felt a bit lighter at the thought that at least Malfoy wouldn't have to become a Death Eater until after April.
Harry briefly wondered how he knew Malfoy's birthday was after April, but decided that he had probably heard one of the Slytherins mention it at some point. Harry then wondered why he had bothered to remember that piece of information, but soon forgot when the topic of conversation changed from when-is-Malfoy-becoming-a-Death-Eater to football-no-Quidditch-is-better (with Seamus and Dean mostly taking part).
Food at the Gryffindor table was quickly polished off, with an abundance of deserts of all kind following.
After finishing dinner, the Gryffindors (but not Hermione) all filed off to bed. Hermione told Harry and Ron that she would return later, once she'd finished making sure the first and second years had got back to the dormitories safely.
The Gryffindor seventh year boys had proceeded to their dormitory, and after a few sleepy 'g'night's mumbled to each other (and a loud snore from Ron's bed, where he had fallen asleep the instant he had got there), they had all closed their four posters, and gone to sleep.
Well, all but Harry, who had decided to stay up a bit before he went to sleep, just thinking.
He wondered if Hermione had got back to the dormitories yet. She probably had, he decided.
Hermione had declined having her own private Head Girl dormitory (a fact that Ron had been rather miffed about, Harry remembered, smirking) because, in her words, 'the Common Room means too much to me. As do the people in it,' (she had assured Ron) 'and anyway, I think it's a lot safer for a student to be around lots of different people, rather than on one's own'. Ron had agreed, as had Harry.
Malfoy, on the other hand, had chosen to have his own Head Boy dormitory, Harry had learned from Hermione. He probably wants to fuck people without being overheard, the Gryffindor thought bitterly. He probably fucks everyone's boyfriends and girlfriends behind their backs.
A sudden thought hit him, and he blanched slightly. What if Malfoy was doing Ginny?
Not that Ginny would cheat on him, hell no, and most certainly not with Malfoy. And it wasn't that he didn't trust his girlfriend, but … he wasn't blind. He could see that Malfoy was good looking. And Harry wasn't exactly overly keen to, uh, satisfy Ginny's needs …
Merlin, one year together, and all they'd done is kiss.
Yes, the 'Great Harry Potter' was a tiny bit frigid. Malfoy would laugh so hard if he knew. In fact, he would probably tease Harry mercilessly, maybe make a banner or something. And in fact, Harry wouldn't blame him. The Boy Who Lived is seventeen and hasn't done anything more than kiss? Get out of here!
Harry sometimes wondered if there was something wrong with him. Why hadn't he done anything more with Ginny? It's not that he didn't want to … at times. It was just … just …
Well, there was Ron. Yeah, that was it. Ron. Harry was worried about doing anything other than kissing with his best friend's little sister in case he got the shit beaten out of him, which Ron might only possibly do, if Harry did anything more with his sister.
Harry was also rather embarrassed. He also didn't know why. The thought of him and Ginny doing something sexual was just … Merlin, he didn't know. It was way too weird to think of. Ginny had tried to coerce Harry into things like that a few times (OK, slightly more than a few times, more like every other day, but whatever), including the one time she had practically attacked Harry after Quidditch practise, half-naked, and had yanked down his boxers and attempted to grab his dick.
Harry had, embarrassingly, been way too freaked out to even get an erection over seeing his attractive girlfriend half-naked.
Ginny had been rather pissed off.
Harry hadn't quite understood what was wrong …
That is, until a week later, when Ginny had demanded to know why Harry hadn't tried to have sex with her. Harry had just blinked dumbly and said, 'Uhh … I dunno', which had led to Ginny throwing a complete hysterical fit, sobbing all over him about why, Merlin why?, was she not good enough, were her boobs not big enough, was she not sexy enough? Etc, etc … Harry thought gloomily.
He remembered that he had been extraordinarily embarrassed and had said, "Ginny, what are you talking about? You're great-" Ginny had cried harder, "um, I mean, you're amazing, and your boobs are, um, really nice-" the screeched sobbing was still resounding in his ears, "perfect! They're perfect! And you're … you're … you're just … really sexy, Ginny," Harry had finished lamely, blushing for England.
Ginny seemed to calm down quite quickly after that, and had then attempted to get Harry to go down on her. Harry had pretended he didn't know what she wanted, which had led to her storming off and not talking to him for a few days (which, Harry was mildly surprised to remember, he hadn't actually minded much).
Come to think of it, Harry and Ginny had had quite a few arguments over their sexual activity (or lack thereof).
Harry stifled a groan. His girlfriend had a higher libido than he did! Dammit, what the heck was wrong with him? He was seventeen years old, he had a really pretty, sexual girlfriend, and he was the Boy Who Lived … fuck, he really needed to get laid.
Harry drifted off to a somewhat restless sleep, his last conscious thought being, I bet Malfoy can get laid whenever he wants.