They came back a while later, lips feeling bruised from the urgency of their kissing – hidden away in one of the secret corridors Harry had found over the preceding two years.
Everyone was still dancing, and as soon as they re-entered the marquee they saw Blaise Zabini dancing with Katie Bell, Luna dancing with Seb Okara and Ginny dancing with – and Harry almost could not believe his eyes – Draco Malfoy.
He looked at Pansy who looked back and made a small shake of her head as if in disbelief.
They walked together, hand-in-hand to the dancefloor as the song died out.
Leaning in close to Harry, Pansy whispered to him. "I'll have a dance with Draco, you dance with Ginny?"
He looked at her, a little suspicious about Malfoy in general, but nodded and they walked over to them. Ginny looked radiant, still burning, but less uncomfortable now. Her eyes went wide at the sight of them.
"What do you want, Potter?" Draco asked.
"Stop it Draco," Pansy said, sharply, fixing him with such a hard glare that he averted his eyes, "dance with me." She instructed.
He looked from her to Harry to Ginny and back. "Thank you, Ginny." He said, bowing to her then did the same to Pansy, who took his hand and they whirled away.
Harry, fighting back a strange, roaring monster in his chest turned to Ginny and he bowed to her. "Would you like to dance?"
An expression of consternation crossed her face, like she was fighting between two emotions, but she affected a weak curtsy and took his hand.
They danced, finding a natural rhythm easily – she danced well. As the song settled into something slow and relaxed, he looked at her.
"Malfoy?" He asked.
She shrugged. "You're not the only one who can break all the rules."
He smiled, "What rules? Come on – we all just inherited this row between Slytherin and Gryffindor."
"I know, looks like you changed everything. But it was only a dance." She said, flatly.
Harry had no reply so changed tack. "Have you seen Ron or Hermione?"
"Ron went off to the loo and said he'd bring back drinks. Hemione went off with Viktor a while ago – just after Hagrid and Maxime finally finished hogging half of the dancefloor."
Neville waltzed past them, dancing with Daphne Greengrass – both were grinning widely.
"All the rules." Harry said, nodding to them.
Conversation ground to a halt between them and they danced a little awkwardly for another few minutes until the song wound down. As it ended, Pansy and Draco appeared next to them. All four bowed and Ginny mimed taking a drink and wandered away.
"Potter." Draco said.
Harry started, wondering what was coming. "Malfoy?"
Pansy rolled her eyes. "God, you're both useless. Draco Lucius Malfoy, I'd like to introduce you to Harry James Potter. Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy. Now shake hands." The last was an order, all levity gone from her voice. She turned and walked away in the same direction as Ginny.
"Potter." Draco started again, stopped, cleared his throat. "Harry. Pansy… Oh fuck it. Pansy just told me off for being childish."
Harry tried to keep his face impassive, to not react as if he'd just heard as something as unexpected as Filch reciting Shakespeare.
"Look, Pansy is very dear to me. Our families are close – or were. My father and her mother grew up together and we spent quite a lot of time together growing up; she's kind of like a sister to me – or a cousin at least. I know that…"
Harry was stunned, having no idea what was happening – it was like he'd entered some parallel universe.
"I know that she agreed to attend this thing with you because I was an arsehole, and I guess I was. But… are you going to make me say it?"
"Say what, Mal- Draco?" Harry said, genuinely not knowing what to say.
Draco scowled at met his eyes. "Alright, you seem to make each other happy – ridiculously, nauseatingly so, in fact. And so, for her and the love our families still have for one another and how happy you clearly make her, I'd like to offer a truce." He held out his hand.
"Bloody hell, Draco." Harry said, looking at the pale hand with the Malfoy family signet ring on the little finger.
He paused, wondering if it were a trick, some long-con being played by Malfoy and Pansy, but caught sight of Neville talking to someone. He blanched, going visibly pale, even in the flashing pale blue light and followed the boy toward the back of the marquee.
Harry looked back to Malfoy, wondering what was happening.
"Well?" Malfoy asked.
"Sorry, yes. A truce." Harry said, shaking Draco's hand.
Neither of them squeezed or tried to crush their fingers, nor was it a limp and half-hearted thing, but a proper handshake.
Draco released him. "Look after her, or I'll kill you, okay?" he said, his narrow and aloof face dead serious, but relaxed quickly. "But I know you will – you're an honourable man, in spite of everything that's gone between us."
"I try to be, and I hear you. A truce it is." Harry said. "Now if you'll excuse me?"
Draco nodded and adjusted his robes, releasing a tense breath.
Harry headed as fast as he could to the back of the hall, the direction Neville had gone, with a strange tension spreading through him that cut right through the astonishment of things cooling between him and Malfoy.
There was a commotion at the top of the steps into the castle, several teachers and senior students holding a gossiping crowd back.
"What's going on?" Harry asked Cho who was standing next to Cedric, both of their faces pale.
A tear slipped down Cho's cheek and she tried but failed to speak.
"It's Moody," Harry said, "there's… something wrong."
"What? Let me through." Harry said.
"Sorry, Harry," Cedric said, "they said no one."
"Potter, come here. You too Diggory – someone fetch Miss Delacour and Mr. Krum at once!" Came McGonagall's voice, cutting through the babble and gossip.
Cho and Diggory's hands separated and he turned, walking up the steps Harry squeezed through the crowd and behind him.
There was a crowd gathered around a figure on the floor.
Moody was pale and grey with blood on his lips. Someone had taken his artificial leg off and it lay, discarded like a forgotten toy to one side.
Neville was at Moody's side, gripping one of his hands. Snape, kneeling at Moody's head was making intricate gestures with his wand and waving it over the ancient auror.
"Potter, Diggory remain with us. Professor Moody has been taken ill." McGonagall said, her hand on her throat.
"What's happening Professor?" Harry asked.
McGonagall shook her head, momentarily lost for words.
"Professor McGonagall just said, he's been taken ill." Snapped Snape. "So shut up and stop interrupting my concentration."
Moody coughed, more blood flecking his lips. "Leave the boy… alone, Severus. Help me up, damn you."
"No Alastor, rest." McGonagall said, kneeling next to them.
"I don't need rest, this has been coming a long time," He coughed, "pull me up, Longbottom."
Dumbledore swept into the room, his shimmering lapis lazuli robes streaming behind him. Krum and Fleur were in his wake with a flustered-looking Madame Maxime and Karkaroff. "Severus?"
"It's not poisoning or any kind of hex, curse or jinx. Just… the natural progression." Snape said, sitting back on his heels
Moody grabbed his fake leg and dragged it over to him.
"No, Alastor, do as Minerva bade you."
"No, Albus." Moody said, sitting up but relaxing against the wall. "I'm needed here as you well know." He fixed Dumbledore with a hard glare, his magical eye dead steady.
Dumbledore didn't move for a moment, then looked at McGonagall and Snape.
Snape stood, "I believe for now the panic is over. Please everyone, return to what you were about. There is no attack, no sign of poison."
McGonagall nodded and moved toward Maxime and Karkaroff. "If you'd come with me, I'll explain."
For once, Karkaroff didn't protest, seeming to want to be as far away from Moody as he could get.
"I'm happy to treat with you on this Albus, but Longbottom can stay with me. I have something I need to give him – Potter too." Moody said, trying again, but failing to rise.
Harry stopped at the top of the steps and turned around.
"So be it. Harry?"
"Professor?"
"We are going to the hospital wing, will-"
"The hell I am-" Moody barked, trying to rise again, but winced with pain.
Dumbledore squatted down next to Moody and sighed. "Alastor, you know how much I appreciate your skill and power and your tenacity, but you must admit your current attempt is not working."
"All I have to do is live a little longer, Albus!"
"No," Dumbledore said, firing up, "you are needed for the long term, Alastor, not just now. Yes you have made mistakes, but that's no reason for you to continue along this suicidal course now. You can lead a long and healthy life with ease for decades to come! And you can make amends for what you believe to be your great failing: by staying strong and leading our successors alongside myself and the rest of the Hogwarts staff!"
Moody looked quickly to Neville then Harry then back to Dumbledore, his one flesh and blood eye welling up with tears.
"I don't deserve it, Albus." He said, so softly that Harry almost couldn't make out the words. "I failed her, all of them. I am not worthy."
"And you have spent the better part of the last two decades sacrificing your living body in the pursuit of atonement. You are more worthy than you can know!" Dumbledore said, standing and offering a hand to his friend. "Go to Alasara, she knows what you need – you have had the offer for more than a decade; accept it. Fight with me again!"
Moody blinked back the tears and took Dumbledore's hand. Neville had to help him stand, but he did, his leg clunking against the floor.
"We are going to the hospital wing – Poppy is waiting for you."
Moody nodded, the resistance gone from him.
"Let me help, Professor." Neville said, ducking under Moody's arm and taking some of his weight.
"Thank you, Longbottom."
Neville helped Moody start to laboriously climb the stairs, the clunk of his prosthetic leg echoing off the walls.
Snape sighed, plainly badly drained from whatever magic he had performed on Moody. He turned to Dumbledore, "I'll meet you there, Headmaster. It was a close thing that time, I'll get some things that might be useful from the stores."
Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. Well done, Severus. I don't know what we'd do without your fast reactions."
With a small nod of his head Snape left, descending the stairs.
Dumbledore took a long, slow and steadying breath, removed his spectacles to clean them then turned to Harry. He looked two hundred years old, a thousand – like his mind was overflowing. "Harry," he said, taking a second meditative breath, "I understand that Professor Moody has something either to give or tell you, but might I ask your patience tonight? I have been trying very hard to convince him he has something worth living for and might have just a chance of getting him to fight for himself for a change instead of against the world. I assure you that you will be the first person to see him when he returns."
"Of course, Professor." Harry said, turning to return to the marquee, but stopped and turned around. "Professor Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore's tired gaze met Harry's. "Yes?"
"Does this have something to do with the potion the house elves have been making for Professor Moody?"
A slight smile played across Dumbledore's ancient face. "It does. Rest assured though, if I get my way – as I tend to do – Professor Moody won't be needing it for much longer."
Harry nodded and turned back.
"Oh, Harry?" It was Dumbledore's turn to interrupt.
"Professor?"
Dumbledore's eyes were shining. "Well done – with Miss. Parkinson."
"Oh." Harry said, grinning.
"You've achieved quite the coup – I'm impressed." He said cryptically before starting up the stairs.
