Hermione Granger found July and August surprising, to say the least.
First, Voldemort's death. Not that his defeat in and of itself was surprising; she had always known, in the back of her mind, that Lord Voldemort would not survive much longer. Oh, sure, it had seemed for a time that he would conquer the Ministry, rule Britain with an iron fist, and—when he was good and ready—bring the rest of the world under his thumb. But she had never doubted his eventual defeat. The world may not be just, but it never allowed such wicked men to survive for very long. The way Voldemort died was more surprising than the fact that he did.
It didn't take much time for rumors to escape the confines of Malfoy Manor and circulate throughout the wizarding community. Harry and Ron could scarcely believe it when they heard.
"No. It didn't happen."
"It says so right here in the paper." Hermione turned the article around so Ron could read. "See? 'Disco Deadly for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.'"
Harry skimmed the article and drew back, shaking his head. "The Prophet's lied before, you know. See?" He pointed to the byline. "Rita Skeeter. This wouldn't be the first time she's made something up."
"Why would she lie about this? You'd think she'd at least lie about something less ridiculous!"
Ron sighed. "Face it, Hermione. The Prophet's lying. There is just no way Malfoy would stand up in front of You-Know-Who and sing a song by Gloria Gaynor." He shrugged dismissively. "Or any other Muggle, for that matter."
As difficult as it was to wrap her mind around the facts, Hermione saw little choice. It was ridiculous, of course. Preposterous. Downright inconceivable. But she clung to her original logic: This was too weird to be a hoax. Had it been, the Prophet would have seen the ruse for what it was at once. So she swallowed the fact—difficult as that was—and moved on. There were bigger mysteries to contemplate.
Malfoy's strange behavior, for one.
She had run into him more than once since Voldemort's death. He nearly collided with her in the Ministry, as he exited a courtroom and she passed by on her way to another.
"Oops! Sorry," he said, giving her an apologetic half-smile. Then, as though remembering the two men who accompanied him (Professor Snape and Rodolphus Lestrange, no less) had added, "Mudblood."
Malfoy ducked in and out of her routine for the next few weeks. He'd catch her eye in Diagon Alley, then look away as though he hadn't seen her. Or he'd see her walking toward a shop, dart ahead of her, and open the door at the same moment she happened to pass through, vanishing just when she looked up.
Today was one of those days.
She caught a glimpse of him as she strode purposefully toward the apothecary. True to form, he dashed across the road, nearly knocking an elderly man and several small children to the ground, and held the door for her. Just as he was about to pull his vanishing act, she put her hand over his. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
He shook his head, as though her question surprised him. "Want? What makes you think I want something?"
Hermione folded her arms. "Well, for one thing, you forgot the 'Mudblood.'"
"No I didn't."
"You didn't say it; you must have forgotten."
"What makes you think I wanted to say it?"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake! You've called me that since second year! And now you're following me around, holding doors and knocking pedestrians silly to get to me. What in the name of all that is decent do you want?"
He hesitated, looking at the ground. A woman slipped past through the open door, glaring, but Malfoy didn't move, and Hermione held her ground. Finally, he met her gaze. "I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want."
She blinked. No. This was not happening. Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and pure Slytherin, was not about to sing. Not in public, anyway, and certainly nothing by the Spice Girls. Gloria Gaynor she could accept— and even Queen, if what Arthur said was true— but there was no way a Malfoy would be caught dead singing anything by the Spice Girls.
Still, there was no harm in testing it, was there?
Hermione lifted her chin. "So tell me what you want, what you really, really want."
"I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want."
A smile tugged at her mouth. She stepped inside the shop, away from incoming traffic. "So tell me what you want, what you really, really want."
Malfoy stepped inside as well. "I wanna..." He sighed as someone somewhere began playing a soundtrack, gave a little spin, and sang.
If you want my future, forget my past
Hermione smiled, arms still folded, and sang the next line.
If you wanna get with me, better make it fast
He lifted an eyebrow, shaking a finger at her.
Now don't go wasting my precious time
She rolled her eyes.
Get your act together, we could be just fine
For the briefest moment, his eyes lit up, and his voice seemed stronger as he sang the next line.
I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want
Hermione smiled.
So tell me what you want, what you really really want
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna
Really really really wanna zigga zig ahh
She had never been sure what that last part meant, but coming from Malfoy, it sounded vaguely dirty. The next line, she thought, the next line should scare him off. Backing toward the far wall, she sang:
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends
Make it last forever, friendship never ends
There, she thought. No way he would get with her friends; not when they happened to be Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Emboldened, Hermione jabbed her finger at his chest to emphasize her next words.
If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give
Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is
What do you think about that? Now you know how I feel
Malfoy stepped forward, eyes wide in disbelief.
Say you can handle my love, are you for real?
She shrugged.
I won't be hasty, I'll give you a try
If you really bug me then I'll say goodbye
Yo I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want
So tell me what you want, what you really really want
I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna
Really really really wanna zigga zig ahh
Was she mistaken, or was that a sly little smile on his lips? Hermione hid behind the next chorus, singing a little louder than she'd intended:
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends
Make it last forever, friendship never ends
If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give
Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is
So here's a story from A to Z, you wanna get with me
You gotta listen carefully
We got Em in the place who likes it in your face
We got G like MC who likes it on an
Easy V doesn't come for free, she's a real lady
Wait— who were these people?
And as for me, ah, you'll see
See what? From the way Malfoy was smiling, it couldn't be anything nice.
The next few lines sounded even worse:
Slam your body down and wind it all around
Slam your body down and wind it all around
Hermione's eyes widened. "What? No way!"
Taking advantage of her shock, he jumped in with the next chorus.
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends
Make it last forever, friendship never ends
"I am not getting with your friends, Malfoy."
If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give
Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta, you gotta, you gotta
You gotta, you gotta, slam, slam, slam, slam
Fine, she thought. Two could play at this game. Stepping forward, she took the next line:
Slam your body down and wind it all around
Not to be outdone, he replied in the same vein.
Slam your body down and wind it all around
They sang the last lines together:
Slam your body down and wind it all around
Slam your body down zigazig ah
If you wanna be my lover
The music ended abruptly, with the two of them nose-to-nose. Malfoy grinned. "Well, Granger?"
Containing her smile as best she could, Hermione took a quill and a scrap of parchment from the counter. Scribbling an address on it, she shoved it into his palm. "Meet me here at seven. Dress Muggle." She turned to go, but stopped at the door. "Oh, and Malfoy?"
"Yes?"
"This is the last time I sing anything by the Spice Girls."
She left the shop to roaring laughter and thunderous applause.