Part II, Chapter Eight: Dance, Dance

Dance, dance
We're falling apart to half time
Dance, dance
And these are the lives you'd love to lead
Dance, this is the way they'd love me
if they knew how misery loved me

- Fall Out Boy (Dance, Dance)

When Draco said he would try not to be mad, would try starting over... he meant it. In the days following Christmas, he and Ginny got a little closer than before, even though they could barely look each other in the eyes. Although he didn't make a transformation into a lovey-dovey open man who had no boundaries and was always warm, he did let down a few of his walls. It was uncomfortable to do so, but he did. He left a few boundaries up, though. For example, his birthday was coming up. And Ginny didn't necessarily have to know.

As Blaise had once told him, "It's clear that your birthday is in January - just to match your character." When Draco had asked for further explanation, Blaise replied with a simple, "You're cold" and a shrug. Draco couldn't deny it - he always had been cold. He knew Ginny would probably want to know, and would probably be a little ticked off knowing that he didn't tell her, but he felt as if this was the last piece of secrecy he had in his life.

He was the day before his birthday and to busy himself, he had begun cleaning up the house. Mysteriously, the 'painting baby' had returned to her rightful place in her mother's arms, so he didn't pay much attention to it. He cleaned up the foyer, picking up bits and pieces of scrap paper, glass, etc. Ginny Weasley could be such a slob.

Something under the couch caught his eye as he bent down to pick up a shard of glass. He reached under and pulled out a black and white notebook that read 'PROPERTY OF GINEVRA WEASLEY. DO NOT TOUCH.' Hmm. He juggled the book in his hands, turning it up and down, deciding whether or not to 'touch' and read the pages. What could lie in a notebook such as this? Draco glanced around to make sure she was nowhere, then opened the book.

At first, they were basic diary entries from her second year - 'Today I hung out a bit with Dean, he's such a git sometimes, I think I may like him' - but then they became serious poems and stories. With a flip of the page, there were humorous anecdotes about random subjects (there was an especially funny one written on October 1st about a ketchup packet who was allergic to french fries). One story written on August 1st, however, grabbed his attention. It was titled 'Fire Melts Ice.' Curious, he read on:

There once was a beautiful princess named Gemma who lived in a deep red palace that resided in a Firey village. Everyone who lived there was warm-hearted to each other and greeted strangers as if they had known them their whole lives. She loved her village, loved her family, and loved her friends. She enjoyed her school, had wonderful classes, and overall was more than pleased with her life. One day, her world was shattered when a man came into her life from an opposing village - one that ruled over Ice.

Ice was a place of cold people who were rude to each other and gave snide remarks to strangers. The Fires and the Ices hated each other with a deep passion, one that was not easily broken. Gemma was shocked to find that because of a curse her great great ancestors created, she would be forced to marry the man from Ice. The man, Daniel, was not pleased with the situation, either. But since we're following Gemma's feelings, who cares about Daniel's?

Gemma was distraught. She didn't want to leave her loved ones, but she was forced to. They moved to equal ground - Earth, in between Fire and Ice - and lived in tight quarters.


One day, when she was listening to music in a beautiful red dress, Daniel walked in on her. A power beyond their control filled the room, and they danced together, closely, slowly. She had nothing to say, and for days, didn't say anything. She was in a dream, another world, caught between reality and another version of her life where she could fall in love without fear of getting hurt.

Gemma and Daniel found themselves in love. They didn't want it to happen, they didn't ask for it to happen. It just did. Fire had melted Ice.

Draco's heart stopped just as the story did. Gemma and Daniel. Ginny and Draco. Draco asked Ginny to dance. 'Caught between reality and another version of her life where she could fall in love without fear of getting hurt.' He briefly wondered whether this was fiction or non-fiction. He skipped ahead a few pages, but that was the last story. He sighed and closed the book, then bent down and slipped the notebook under the couch.

He finally had another secret.

-----------------

Ginny was bored, itching for excitement. The thrill she got by looking at Draco was usually enough to do it, but ever since their kiss, she couldn't look at him. It wasn't that the kiss was bad, or that she didn't want to remember it. No, she really loved the kiss, and the rush she got afterwards. She couldn't look at him because everytime she did, it took more self restraint than she had in her body to run up to him and kiss him again, and again, and again.

She was organizing her closet, looking at all the pretty shirts she owned, when she found the beautiful green and black dress from what seemed like ages ago. Deciding that there was absolutely nothing else to do, she grabbed her dress and tried it on, then checked in the mirror. The top of it was tighter than she remembered - it reminded her of a corset. The black lace barely covered her cleavage, but in a tasteful way- not a Slagish way. The bottom of the dress was long, flowing, slightly poofy, and she couldn't help but smile. Around her waist was a medieval-looking v in black silk. She looked like a princess from some sort of fairy tale. She spun around once, twice, three times until she decided she had to quit being narcissistic and gently took the dress off.

Taking a deep breath, she looked out the window, overlooking the small French town. She was surprised to see a large dome-like building across from the manor with a large sign that said (and this is a rough English translation, for her mother never did bother teaching her French too well) 'NEW YEAR'S EVE MASQUERADE BALL AT L'OPERA, ALL WELCOME, FREE ADMITTANCE, STARTS AT 5 UNTIL MORNING.' She grinned; New Year's Eve was tomorrow, that gave her something to do. She had the dress - she just needed the mask.

-----------------

"I'm going out... do you want anything?" Ginny asked Draco, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"You're going out? For what?"

Ginny shrugged. "A mask...?"

"A mask," Draco replied, a small smile playing upon his lips. "Why?"

Ginny stupidly looked up into his eyes and couldn't find a comprehensible thought in her body. "Um, well, there's a masquerade ball at L'Opera. I figured I'd get a mask to match my outfit."

"Ah," answered Draco. "No, I'm fine. Good luck getting a mask."

"Yes..." Ginny said slowly. "I'll be back -"

"Later," Draco supplied, and Ginny nodded in a daze. She practically floated out of the room.

-----------------

Ginny was getting ready for the ball, and was currently applying black eyeliner to her eyes. Because the mask was a universal mask that only covered her eyes, there was a small circle of skin that was visible through the eyeholes of the mask. She added some green eyeshadow for good measure, some mascara, and then put the mask on. She stepped back from the table and studied herself. She wasn't completely disappointed - she looked pretty enough. Her hair was pulled back, curled into a messy bun that hung by the back of her neck. She shrugged, slipped on her black shoes, grabbed her black jacket, shawl, and bag.

"Draco? I'm going..."

Draco was sitting in the foyer, reading a newspaper. He carelessly looked up to say goodbye, but as he opened his mouth, the words wouldn't come out. He saw her in her outfit, acting as if nothing were wrong... but here she was, being beautiful, and he couldn't take it.

"...Draco?"

Draco shook his head. "Sorry."

Ginny smiled and blushed, then fixed her bag. "I'm going to go now, I said."

"Oh." Draco stopped looking at her and focused on his newspaper. "Have fun..."

She began walking to the door. "Um... yeah. Bye..."

As she left, Draco sat in complete and utter shocked silence. The voice inside his head was having an inner battle between what he felt (or didn't feel.) Was he actually having romantic feelings for the youngest Weasley? No... he couldn't be. He just couldn't...

Open your eyes, he heard a voice say in the back of his mind.

-----------------

She walked into the main room, smiling graciously at the doorman. She handed her jacket to the coatman and then entered the ball. It was a beautiful opera house, with beautiful decorations in every color imaginable. A couple in matching bright yellow masks danced by her, causing her to self consciously finger her black, feathered mask. It wasn't quite as decorative as anyone elses, but she liked it.

She found a table in the back and sat at it, looking about as if she were looking for someone. Suddenly she felt very stupid, arriving to a masquerade ball unaccompanied. Not one person here was dancing normally - it was all ballroom dancing, waltzing, etc, and it seemed as though everyone had a date. Except her, that is.

"Would you like to dance?" She spun around; a man with black hair was smiling at her.

Why not? "Sure," she answered, giving her his hand.

He was a great dancer, he was charming, and he was funny. She would have danced again with him, but her bloody scar began sending shivers and burns throughout her body, causing her to grab her leg and take a deep breath.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm... not feeling good. I'm going to sit down, okay?"

He put his arm under hers and helped her to her chair, and faltered. "Should I...?"

"Don't worry," she said with a sigh. "Have fun."

"Are you..."

"Yes, I'm sure. Besides, I don't even know you," she said, laughing. The mystery man smiled and kissed her hand; she privately winced in pain but put on a brave front. As he began dancing with some sleezy blonde, she sighed. Bloody curse and it's bloody side-effects. Makes any man who likes me and who's not Malfoy instantly frightened away by my scar's pain!

"Excuse me, mademoiseille. Would you care to dance?"

Ginny turned around, instantly feeling a searing pain in her leg. Usually, she could stand talking to men, even dancing a bit. But just looking at this guy made her hurt - badly. A man in a green suit with black accents and a green mask was standing in front of her. He had long silver hair that reminded her immediately of Lucius Malfoy - but he was dead, wasn't he?

"Uh... sorry, I'm not really feeling up to it."

As if the man hadn't heard her, he grabbed her hand and began waltzing with her. Ginny could hardly stand, the pain in her leg was so bad.

"Excuse me, but I think I remember saying I wasn't feeling well." The man didn't let her go. "Unhand me! Put me down!"

"Shut up, Weasley," the man hissed in her ear.

Ginny's eyes grew large. "Who are you?"

"There is no time for questions. Leave the Manor if you know what's good for you."

Time stood still as Ginny tried to figure out what to say. She heard a man yelling that the music would pick up a bit, and that if you couldn't keep up, to sit down. She tried to make her way to the table, but the man seemed to have no thoughts of freeing her. Taking a deep breath, she asked...

"Or what?"

"Or death, either way. You will die if you leave, die if you stay. If you leave, you can save your children. Don't tell anyone about this."

She looked around; no one seemed to suspect that this handsome man was whispering death threats in his date's ear. She turned to look back at the man, but he was gone, lost in a sea of colored masks. She began walking through the spinning, twirling, fast-dancing couples when she bumped into someone. Ginny looked up. She had bumped into a man in a black suit and a green mask. He had his hand out, bowing, asking her apologies. He would have looked silly, bowing and acting so formal at a party such as this, if it weren't so terribly romantic.

"You do realize you're standing in the middle of a fast-paced dance, don't you?"

Ginny nodded, breathless.

"Do you want to dance?" the man asked.

She opened her mouth to say 'no,' but no sounds came out. All she could see were his eyes. She opened her mouth again, but nothing happened. Oh, bugger! She took a deep breath and before she could control it, she was dancing with him.

"You look scared," the man said, smiling down at her. "Was that man bothering you?"

Don't tell anyone about this. She shook her head. "Oh, no... no."

He leaned down at whispered in her ear. "It's Draco."

She let out a deep breath. "Thank God."

"If he bothers you again... I'll kill him."

She smiled again. "Just dance with me."

And he did.

His hands were on her waist, her hand was on his shoulder, and they were dancing as if they had practiced. She couldn't break away from his eyes, the way they seemed to be telling her all the things she wanted to hear. Ginny felt herself pushing closer towards him on her own accord, their outfits meeting, their masks barely touching.

How long they were out there, dancing, she didn't know. She couldn't put time together. She couldn't put thoughts together. Suddenly, half way through their dance, people were yelling out numbers, everything stopped, everything was silent other than the consistent 'FIFTEEN, FOURTEEN, THIRTEEN...'

Their jaws were so close. She could feel his hot breath on her mouth, begging to be kissed.

"Gemma..." Draco murmured.

She should be shocked. She should feel surprised that Draco read her story... She should be angry. That was a secret story, not to mention one that she wrote about him. But she just couldn't find any negative emotions for Draco at the moment.

TWELVE, ELEVEN, TEN

"Daniel..." she whispered, looking at his from under half-closed eyelids.

NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN

They got closer, closer, closer, before their lips were touching. Ginny felt as she were flying, someplace else. Was she having an out-of-body experience, or was this just kissing Draco? Although many questions buzzed through her mind - how did he know about Daniel and Gemma, how dare he read my book, why aren't I angrier - she couldn't focus on one. She couldn't think about anything other than the way his lips on hers made her feel.

Somehow they had found themselves outside on the balcony of L'Opera. She was leaning against the cold, solid wall, and their breathing was shallow, quick, and yet so delayed. She had been kissed before, she had kissed him before. But this... this was mind-blowing. It felt as if she were having an asthma attack, and she broke away, breathing heavily.

"What - are we - doing?" Gemma - er, Ginny - asked, taking a deep breath as Draco slowly backed away a bit.

"I think - I think we're snogging."

Ginny took a deep breath. "How?"

"How?" he repeated. "I don't know, my lips kind of go like this..."

Stop. Stop it, or I might just lose control.

Her power was lost as quickly as it was gained as she found him leading her to a stone bench, sitting her on it and moving is cold hands over her cheeks. His hands seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. One minute they were tracing the sides of her dress, the next they were playing with her hair, the next they were touching the inside of her elbow.

SIX, FIVE, FOUR

She sighed against his mouth as they slowly broke away once again, trailing small butterfly kisses on each other.

"I read Fire Melts Ice," Draco said softly against her shoulder.

"I know, Daniel," she whispered. She was in the act of kissing his hand. They stopped and looked in each other's eyes. Somewhere along the way both of their masks had come off, and Ginny was sure she looked like a raccoon, but she was too lost in his eyes to care. She could practically count the flecks of blue. "Draco... we need to stop..."

"Right," Draco replied, with much difficulty.

THREE, TWO,

Ginny looked down and brought her knee up, then began playing with her strappy shoe. She leaned in close to him, but instead of kissing him, she began whispering. "That man knew who I was."

"With your mask on?" he asked.

ONE

She nodded. "He knew my last name was Weasley. He told me to leave the manor, and that I would die, no matter if I left or not. But he said if I left, my children would be saved." She let tears fall from her eyes, sighing. "What am I supposed to do?"

Draco looked down. "We're going to talk to my mother. And if she can't help, we're going to Dumbledore."

Happy new year!

-----------------

The pair left the Masquerade after getting their party bags and were on their way home when Draco remembered he left his coat inside. Ginny was standing outside with a bunch of women, waiting for Draco, when she overheard some of the women's gossip.

"Have you seen the new couple who live in the old Andasar mansion?" a woman with a Scottish accent was asking. Ginny looked at them, wondering how they could gossip about her right in front of her, but then realized - she had a mask on. This could work to her advantage.

"Ah, yes, the... what's it called's... Malfots?" another woman added. A southern accent on this one - a distinct southern drawl.

Another younger woman interjected. "No, no, no. You are mistaken! They are the Malfoys. My family used to be friends with his. The boy's father was sent to jail, I heard." She had a Irish accent and seemed to have a sneering face. She glanced over at Ginny for a moment, then back towards her friends. "Heard he murdered a few people."

"Ah, good breeding, then. I'm sure they're simply lovely," the Scottish woman said with a laugh.

Sera shook her head. "The wife is rather pretty, isn't she? Beautiful flaming red hair and hazel eyes. Freckles all over. Lovely."

Ginny felt herself flush.

"How old is she? They both look quite young, don't they, Margie? They can't even be 20 yet," pondered the southern woman.

You're right, Ginny thought, I'm not even of age.

"I hear the house is haunted by the spirits of Salazar and Godric. Remember that bedtime story, Sera, the one our mums used to read? What was it called, Candles Frozen or something?"

Sera laughed. "Oh, dear Margie, if you think I can remember that you are clearly off your rocker. It's everywhere now, though; that story has become quite publicized as 'Little France's Nightmare.' I don't believe it, though."

"You don't? I certainly do!" Margie, the Scottish woman, scoffed. "Frightful story. I daresay, my niece - you know her, Sera. Amelia? - Anyway, my niece wanted a novel for Christmas, and I bought her that. Her mum returned it to me, saying it had given her nightmares! Poor dear. What say you, Corrine?"

Corrine, the southern, spoke up. "I feel sorry for the girl. She has to live in a haunted house with a haunted man. She seems warm and he seems..."

"Cold?"

"Rude?"

"Right behind you?"

The women gasped and turned around to see Draco standing right behind them. Ginny smiled to herself.

"Monsieur Malfot," Sera greeted with a bow, causing her friends to stifle their laughs.

"Madam McCreeler."

Sera smiled, but Ginny knew it was not genuine. "Excuse me, sir, but it is now Porter."

"Ah, my apologies. If you are through gossiping about us, I would like to take my wife back home," he sneered, putting much emphasis on the word 'wife.' Ginny felt herself blush extremely hard.

"Oh, Draco. Where is your lovely wife?" Corrine asked, glancing around.

"Right next to you."

Oh, God.

The women looked around, collectively sneering. "Ah. Couldn't see her, under her mask," Margie said.

"You know, I do think we haven't been properly introduced," said Sera with a smile. Ginny didn't trust her a bit. "Would you like to come to tea with the girls over at my place one time?"

Ginny looked over to Draco, who nodded. She sighed. "Ah, yes," she replied. "Sounds... great."

"How's tomorrow at noon, then? Great! See you there. I'm sure Young Master Malfot knows exactly where it is, so just ask him for directions. Come now, ladies, don't want to keep the Malfots." With that, they swept up their dresses and things and began walking, Sera distinctly swinging her hips.

-----------------

As Ginny sat outside, bundled up in sweaters and coats, she thought about what the women had said.

"I hear the house is haunted by the spirits of Salazar and Godric. Remember that bedtime story, Sera, the one our mums used to read? What was it called, Candles Frozen or something?"

Ginny sighed. Practically all of France knew more about the curse than she did. Suddenly quite awake, Ginny got an idea. If she read this book, perhaps she could get an idea on what could be done.

And how it ended.

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Author's note: Author's note: Ahhh. I realize this is kind of short, but I had a LOT more but once I saved it, I was really unhappy with it. I thought things were happening too fast, because with the way I set everything up, the story would have had to end in the next two chapters. Now at least there's a bit more! But since we are, unfortunatly, leading to the end of the fic, I would really appreciate it if, in your review, you would fill this brief survey out. Don't forget to put your regular review anyway, but adding this in would be really helpful:

What you like about the story:

How do you think I portrayed Draco? Ginny? Explain:

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Thanks, ya'll. Have a nice new year.

PS: Thanks to the reviews! Please review some more, I would like to get more reviews than I did for my previous story, Broken. (giggle)


PPPS: BUY THE BOOK REBEL ANGELS! IT IS UTTERLY AMAZINGLY AWESOME. But read A GREAT AND TERRIBLE BEAUTY first! (Both by Libba Bray. I adore her!)