A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! Here's another.
Disclaimer: I am not that clever.
Chapter Seven"I can't believe it's the Ravenclaws who are having a party," said Ron. "I mean, any other house seems like it'd be more likely…but Ravenclaw? I would've thought they'd be too busy studying or something," he grinned.
"Well Ron, I expect that's why they're doing it. To show people like you that they aren't just boring and smart. Smart people can have fun too, you know," scolded Hermione.
"Ah yes, Hermione. That's so true. Oh, what's that you're doing there? Revising your Charms notes?" asked Harry innocently, looking up from the battle his chess pieces were having with Ron's.
Ron laughed. Even Hermione cracked a small smile.
"I just didn't want to have mounds of homework this weekend! I just want to have fun and not have to worry about these things tomorrow," she said, referring to the fact that the party was tomorrow night; Friday. She turned to Harry. "Are you going to go with Draco?"
Harry shifted uncomfortably.
"No, but I think he's going to do something. He's pulling me out of the closet tomorrow," he said unhappily.
Ron looked a little bit frightened, and glanced at Hermione, who looked only a little bit concerned.
"Harry, I know you're scared, but you have to do it. And sure, this may cause a little bit of a stir—"
"More like an earthquake big enough to swallow the planet," interrupted Ron, who cowered when glared at by Hermione.
"A little bit of a stir," she pressed on firmly, "but it's really a quick and easy way to go about it."
Harry didn't much like it, but he knew she was right. He nodded glumly.
SCENEBREAKSCENEBREAKSCENEBREAKSCENEBREAKSCENEBREAK
Draco ran a hand through his hair and straightened his shirt as they stood outside the door of the unused classroom. The party, by the sounds of it, was already in full swing. The music was pounding throughout the corridor, and the mashed up sounds of many voices created a low, steady hum.
"You look perfect, Draco, stop playing," said Blaise Zabini, who had been observing his friend with a smirk. "You always look perfect, I don't even see why you bother. You could be covered in kneazle dung and still make the rest of us feel stupid."
"That's true, isn't it?" remarked the blonde, producing a snort from his companion. "Hm. Well, shall we, then?" he gestured toward the door.
"We shall," nodded Blaise.
He opened the door and the they were hit by the wall of amplified sound, suddenly an almost deafening roar; laughs, hoots, and the ever-steady beat of the music that had been bewitched to play inside the school. Draco grinned. Lovely.
The two of them strolled casually inside the room and took in the goings-on. It had been spelled to be much larger than it should have been, and it seemed almost everyone fifth year and up was there. Towards the sides of the room, people were sitting and standing calmly, yelling to each other over the music. Many of them were holding drinks that didn't look quite like butterbeer. Draco smirked. Thank Merlin.
The middle of the room was — well really, most of the room, as the rest of the seats and tables were all squashed out of the way — taken up by the dance floor. The dance floor… ah, 'twas a thing of beauty. Draco had always loved to dance. He adored it. The way you could just free all of your inhibitions and do whatever the hell you wanted. The way people on dance floors could go crazy, and nobody would say anything. You're allowed to be crazy when you are surrounded on all sides by throbbing, pulsating bodies, sweat-soaked and burning with heat and desire. All your clean, raw energy and pure lust could be released. Released onto these other people, these strangers. The strangers absorbed your hot energy while at the same time burning up their own. They were your release, but really, they had nothing to do with you at all. Dancing was all about you.
Draco really wanted to get out there. His innards were already pulsing. But first, he needed a drink. And we're not talking pumpkin juice. He dragged Blaise over to an area where the people holding firewhiskey were more concentrated, and he quickly located and infiltrated the source.
He sat down with his friend and relished the drink burning all the way down his throat and settling in his stomach, already making him feel slightly feverish.
After they'd been lounging around and talking for a while, Blaise pointed his finger somewhere into the quivering mass of steaming bodies.
Draco looked over to see his beautiful boy on a beautiful dance floor. He was dancing like a beautiful dance-whore. Draco smiled. Harry was moving his body perfectly to the quick jarring beat of the song that had just started. Striking guitars rung throughout the room and a low bass reverberated beneath the layers. A quirky but sultry male voice dictated some meaningless story that could mean so much. The music quieted and dipped into a valley of anticipation before rising up into a climax that wreaked havoc among the dancers. It was like the instruments were fucking each other, and the singer was fucking himself.
Blaise watched Draco watching.
"Go dance with the boy! For Christ's sake, Draco!"
Draco stood up.
"I'll eventually make my way over there," he said mysteriously, before weaving his way through the crowd of hot, sweaty teenagers.
He started out on the edges of the deliciously kitschy little dance floor, with its flashing disco-style lights and its high gloss finish. He first found himself cock-to-arse with a small but definitely 'feisty' girl, and then deftly moved deeper into the rocking, bucking hips of the crowd, meeting with many random persons in the depths of their swirling drunken holes of crazed abandon.
Finally he knew he was close enough to Harry. Well, not really. I mean, he could never be close enough to Harry. But that's beside the point. Harry had noticed his boyfriend moving steadily toward him. He was nervous. Really pretty scared. He was even scolded by Ginny for stepping on her foot, he was so distracted.
The fast rush of a song that had been playing finished, and a slow song struck up. Many people left to go catch their breath; they were all left panting and sweating with the effort of acceptable insanity. Everyone else now made sure they had one partner and one partner only. Ginny automatically touched Harry's arm, ready to continue. He turned into her, praying and hoping that this would not be the song th—
"May I have this dance?"
Shite.
Harry, Ginny, and several couples near them turned to look at the source of the smooth, drawling voice.
Ginny snorted loudly, and the spectators looked frightened.
"Bugger off, Malfoy," spat the youngest Weasley.
"I will not bugger off, Weaselette, until I have received my answer from the person I asked," replied Draco calmly.
"Stop being such an arse!" she muttered, before turning and trying to lead Harry away. Draco put out a hand and stopped her.
The circle of observers was spreading wider.
Draco gave a dark look to the red-headed girl, before pointedly turning to stare at Harry. Ginny threw up her hands and then crossed them.
"Harry, tell him to piss off, already! I don't know what the hell he wants but clearly he wants you to say it."
Harry felt every face in watching distance turned toward him.
He swallowed.
He looked into Draco's eyes. They were sparkling in amusement. No. Fucking. Way. He thought all this was funny. That bastard!
Oh, but he was a bastard that Harry worshipped. That's why he was so amused. He knew that there was no way Harry would say no, refuse him here in front of everyone.
Draco saw Harry's decision-making process, as if right through his skull, and he held out a hand to the boy.
Harry took it.
A collective gasp sounded throughout the room.
Draco smiled. A true, genuine, brilliantly beautiful smile of the sort that made you glad to be alive. Harry melted.
Draco opened his arms and Harry stepped into them, sinking into his embrace with the comfort and ease that comes from familiarity.
The entire room was silent.
For about a second.
Then came the explosion.
Some of the crowd gasped, some screamed. Some let out whooping cheers and began applauding, drunken slurs and yells egging them on. Some squealed, some giggled. Some laughed, some cried. A few people passed out cold. Several ran to the toilets, looking faintly green, but hey, that could have been the alcohol. Ginny squawked and Blaise smirked. Ron and Hermione, who were holding hands nearby, grinned at each other.
Draco smiled a little into Harry's black locks.
Neither of them could hear the noise in the room.
All they heard was the music, and the beating of their own hearts, as they swayed gently, holding on to each other for dear life.
A/N: I'm quite proud of this chapter. I hope you are, too.