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Draco Malfoy had perfected the art of the scowl. He had crafted the perfect balance between the frown and the grimace, enough to make him look sufficiently menacing without becoming unattractive. As effortless as he made it look, his facial expression as he swept through the halls of Hogwarts actually took a lot of concentration. Which is why he was thoroughly put out when he sharply rounded a corner, his robes snapping impressively behind him, only to have to stop short or trip over the figure slumped against the wall.
A girl sat with her arms wrapped around her tucked up legs, her face obscured by masses of red hair. Draco's scowl faltered, then disappeared altogether. "Weaselette." Draco muttered under his breath, trademark smirk growing over his face. "Oh yes, my day just got a whole lot better."
He nudged the girl with his foot. "Hey, girl Weasel, what's the matter? Finally realize how poor your family really is?" No reaction from the girl. Hm. He'd try again. "Something happen to one of your brothers? Don't worry you've got a dozen more." Still nothing. This was odd. Usually one bad word against her family and she would be in his face, eyes blazing, ready for a fight. Riling her up was one of Draco's favorite pastimes.
"Really, Weasley, what is so horrible that it's ruined your unflagging temper? Did Potter not ask you to the ball?" As soon as he mentioned Potter's name, the girl's shoulders stiffened. "Ohh, I've hit upon the exact problem, haven't I?" He crouched down beside her, studying what little he could see of her profile. From his new angle, he could tell that, while she had obviously been crying at some point, her eyes were dry now. He grinned. Her always felt a tiny twinge of guilt when he taunted a crying girl. But as it stood, he felt no remorse continuing his verbal abuse.
"Did you write him another love song? Announce your love for him in front of the whole Great Hall?" He could see she was getting more and more angry with him. His smirk widened. "Did he finally declare his love for your brother? I knew it was only a matter of time."
"Stuff it, Malfoy." Finally! He mentally congratulated himself on getting a response.
"What was that, Weasley? I didn't quite catch it."
"I said, stuff it, Malfoy. You don't even have a date yourself." This made him freeze.
"How did you know- I mean, that's a lie. I could get any girl in this castle." The girl weasel snorted in an incredibly unladylike manner. "What's that supposed to mean, Weaselette? It's true; any girl would love to go to the ball with me. Some boys even, if I swung that way."
"I haven't ruled that out," said the weasel, just loud enough for him to hear. He humphed disbelievingly.
"Well, you should. No one is straighter than Draco Malfoy." This set her off. It started as giggles, but quickly grew to full out laughter. She hugged herself tighter, attempting to control her mirth at his statement. When she looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time in their entire encounter, his mouth was hanging slightly open in disbelief. This set her off again, and she rocked back and forth, tiny frame shaking. She finally composed herself, wiping tears from her eyes and grinning up at him.
"Sorry, Malfoy, it's just… I wouldn't classify you as the straightest man I've ever met." Now it was his turn to tell her to stuff it. She giggled again, then reached up and pushed on his shoulder, tipping him off his feet so he was sitting next to her. He told himself it was shock that kept him from immediately standing back up and stalking off down the hallway. They sat in silence for a moment, then she sighed.
"You were right though, I was upset because Harry asked Luna to the dance. I shouldn't even be complaining. Neville has it worse; he was going to ask Luna but Harry beat him to it."
"I wouldn't worry about Longbottom," Draco said without thinking, "He'll find some Hufflepuff willing to endure him for a night." He was surprised at how happy he was to see her smile in response to his comment. "And you were right too, as much as it pains me to admit it. I don't have a date either. Blaise is going with Daphne, and when I asked Pansy, she told me Goyle had already asked her. Goyle, can you believe it?"
"Yes," the girl weasel stated. He looked at her incredulously. "Wait, you mean you haven't seen her staring at him? She's not subtle about it." This time his mouth fell all the way open.
"But… Goyle? The man's shoe size is higher than his IQ." She chuckled at this and he felt the same inexplicable happiness.
"He's sweet though. I guess you never actually talked to him long enough to notice. He was always just one of your cronies." He didn't know how to respond to this, so he just sat there, feeling rather dumb. The Weaselette made an exasperated noise. "It's just going to be so embarrassing. Hermione tried to comfort me, and like an idiot I told her no, I was fine, because I already had a date."
"But you don't."
"Not in the slightest." She looked at her hands, then up at him. He cocked an eyebrow at her.
"I see an idea forming in that ginger head of yours, Weasley. And it's scaring me." She continued to stare at him. "Weasley… I'm serious. You're a frightening person when you think." He went to stand up, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him back down.
"Malfoy. Hold on a second. Neither of us have dates. And we both know how mortifying it would be to go alone…"
"No. Weasley, you can't be serious."
"I'm completely serious. It wouldn't even be that bad. Look at us now; we've been having a civil conversation for almost a quarter of an hour."
"Well, yes, but the dance is far longer than that. And-"
"Think about it Malfoy. Imagine how much it will piss off Harry. And my brother. It wouldn't be a real date or anything. We'd just be going as friends." He gave her a look at this statement. "Fine," she conceded, "as enemies." She was looking right at him, no trace of tears left, a mischievous look in her eyes.
"All right, Weasley, you've got yourself a date."
She smiled then, a real smile, and he found himself wanting to do everything he could to see that smile all the time. But she was already getting up, pulling him up after her.
"Excellent. I'll meet you in the entrance hall at seven. My dress is green, so you shouldn't have any problems matching it." She flashed him one last grin, then turned on her heel and practically skipped off the way he had come, leaving a stunned Draco Malfoy standing in the middle of the hall.
~~~~~~~
He was still in shock when he got back to the common room. He slumped into a chair near the fire, not even noticing Blaise, who was lounging on the neighboring couch.
"Why, Draco," he drawled, "you look like you've seen a ghost. Or your aunt. Or the ghost of your aunt." He chuckled, obviously thinking himself clever.
"Unfortunately, Draco replied sullenly, "Dear Aunt Bella is still very alive. Oh, and fuck off."
Blaise laughed, closing his book and giving his friend his full attention. "You know what, I don't think I will, as you so eloquently put it, fuck off. At least not until you tell me what's got you looking like you've just seen Crabbe in his underwear."
Draco shuddered. "Thanks for that mental image, mate."
"Anytime. But seriously, what happened?"
"I may have just agreed to go to the Yule Ball with Weasley."
"What? Draco, I didn't think you batted for the other team. I'm not judging. Whatever simmers your cauldron."
"I- what? Oh, no, the girl Weasley."
Blaise looked at him in confusion. "There's a girl Weasley? I thought they were all blokes. Although I guess it makes sense. Statistically speaking, there are so many of them, one is bound to be a girl."
"Statistically-" Draco shook his head. "Whatever, Blaise. Yes, there's a girl Weasley. Jenny, I think her name is."
"Ginny," corrected Daphne, who had just flounced into the common room and deposited herself on Blaise's lap. "Her name's Ginny, not Jenny. But why are we discussing Gryffindors?"
"We are not discussing anything," Draco started to say, but Blaise cut him off, informing Daphne, "Draco's going to the ball with her."
"Really?" Daphne looked interestedly at the boy who had slumped even further into his armchair. "I thought she hated you and everything you stood for. How'd you get her to agree to go to a ball with you?"
"For your information, she asked me," Draco spat, before pushing himself irately out of the chair and stomping up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.
"What's got his panties in a knot?" inquired Daphne, watching him disappear up the steps.
"He's just jealous because I love you more than him," Blaise replied, grinning at his girlfriend. She smiled back at him. "Well, I don't see why he's so surprised. I am awesome. Who wouldn't love me?" She leaned down to meet his lips and the two of them soon forgot all about Draco Malfoy.
~~~~~~~
There was one person in Gryffindor tower who was having a harder time getting a certain blond Slytherin out of her head. Ginny Weasley was currently pacing in circles around the girls’ dormitory, much to the annoyance of her brother’s girlfriend. Hermione sat on Ginny’s bed, becoming more and more dizzy as she watched her friend trace the same path on the floor again and again.
“Can you stop that for two minutes and explain to me what has gotten you so upset? You’re making my head hurt.” Ginny obliged, flopping down on her back next to Hermione and covering her face with a pillow. “Ok, that’s a start,” said Hermione cheerfully, “now what’s wrong?”
Ginny’s response was unintelligible, muffled as it was by the pillow still pressed against her face.
“Seriously?” Hermione sighed, before grabbing a corner of the pillow and yanking it out of Ginny’s grasp. “Try again, please, and enunciate your words.” Ginny took a deep breath, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.
“It’s my date for the ball.”
“And you still aren’t going to tell me who it is? Are you absolutely sure you didn’t just make him up in an effort to convince me you are ok with Harry and Luna? Because I won’t judge you if you did. It’s completely understandable.”
“He’s real, Hermione, I promise. You of all people should believe me, after what you went through the last time we had one of these ridiculous things.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right. And I do believe you. I just… well, you know I like to know everything. I’ll be the first to admit it.” Ginny smiled at this.
“I know, Hermione, but trust me when I say you don’t want to know this right now. This way, when you find out at the ball, the surprise will come all at once. Like… ripping off a bandage.”
“Ginny, how could it be that bad? It’s just a guy. It’s not like you’re going with Malfoy or something.”
“Heh, right…” laughed Ginny nervously, hoping Hermione didn’t notice it was rather forced. “That would be ridiculous.” There was an uncomfortable silence. When it became evident that Hermione was studying her for any hint of who her mystery date was, Ginny decided she had had enough.
“I think I need to talk to Morgan about this. I’ll see you later Hermione, all right?”
“Wait a minute-“ called Hermione, but Ginny had already disappeared down the stairs. Hermione sighed and stood up off the bed, descending the stairs at a more reasonable pace.
When she got to the common room, she found a bewildered looking Ron staring blankly at the portrait hole.
“Was that my sister? Was she- do I want to know?” Hermione laughed at his expression, which was the same one he had worn the time the twins had managed to enchant every object he touched to turn into a rubber duck.
“She’s just going to see Morgan,” Hermione informed him, sliding her hand into his.
“Hmph,” humphed Ron, “I don’t see why she has to ‘go see Morgan’ at five hundred kilometers an hour. I don’t think Ravenclaw tower is going anywhere any time soon.” His eyes stayed on the portrait hole for another moment before he shook his head to snap himself out of it.
“Anyway, d’you think you could help me get Seamus to the hospital wing? Romilda Vane decided the best way to get him to ask her to the ball was to slip him a love potion, but he already asked Lavender, and when he started declaring his love for Romilda, Lav got a little jealous. So now he’s drugged and sporting a black eye, and…” His words trailed off as they climbed out of the portrait hole and went in search of the unfortunate object of Romilda’s obsession- er, affections.
A girl sat with her arms wrapped around her tucked up legs, her face obscured by masses of red hair. Draco's scowl faltered, then disappeared altogether. "Weaselette." Draco muttered under his breath, trademark smirk growing over his face. "Oh yes, my day just got a whole lot better."
He nudged the girl with his foot. "Hey, girl Weasel, what's the matter? Finally realize how poor your family really is?" No reaction from the girl. Hm. He'd try again. "Something happen to one of your brothers? Don't worry you've got a dozen more." Still nothing. This was odd. Usually one bad word against her family and she would be in his face, eyes blazing, ready for a fight. Riling her up was one of Draco's favorite pastimes.
"Really, Weasley, what is so horrible that it's ruined your unflagging temper? Did Potter not ask you to the ball?" As soon as he mentioned Potter's name, the girl's shoulders stiffened. "Ohh, I've hit upon the exact problem, haven't I?" He crouched down beside her, studying what little he could see of her profile. From his new angle, he could tell that, while she had obviously been crying at some point, her eyes were dry now. He grinned. Her always felt a tiny twinge of guilt when he taunted a crying girl. But as it stood, he felt no remorse continuing his verbal abuse.
"Did you write him another love song? Announce your love for him in front of the whole Great Hall?" He could see she was getting more and more angry with him. His smirk widened. "Did he finally declare his love for your brother? I knew it was only a matter of time."
"Stuff it, Malfoy." Finally! He mentally congratulated himself on getting a response.
"What was that, Weasley? I didn't quite catch it."
"I said, stuff it, Malfoy. You don't even have a date yourself." This made him freeze.
"How did you know- I mean, that's a lie. I could get any girl in this castle." The girl weasel snorted in an incredibly unladylike manner. "What's that supposed to mean, Weaselette? It's true; any girl would love to go to the ball with me. Some boys even, if I swung that way."
"I haven't ruled that out," said the weasel, just loud enough for him to hear. He humphed disbelievingly.
"Well, you should. No one is straighter than Draco Malfoy." This set her off. It started as giggles, but quickly grew to full out laughter. She hugged herself tighter, attempting to control her mirth at his statement. When she looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time in their entire encounter, his mouth was hanging slightly open in disbelief. This set her off again, and she rocked back and forth, tiny frame shaking. She finally composed herself, wiping tears from her eyes and grinning up at him.
"Sorry, Malfoy, it's just… I wouldn't classify you as the straightest man I've ever met." Now it was his turn to tell her to stuff it. She giggled again, then reached up and pushed on his shoulder, tipping him off his feet so he was sitting next to her. He told himself it was shock that kept him from immediately standing back up and stalking off down the hallway. They sat in silence for a moment, then she sighed.
"You were right though, I was upset because Harry asked Luna to the dance. I shouldn't even be complaining. Neville has it worse; he was going to ask Luna but Harry beat him to it."
"I wouldn't worry about Longbottom," Draco said without thinking, "He'll find some Hufflepuff willing to endure him for a night." He was surprised at how happy he was to see her smile in response to his comment. "And you were right too, as much as it pains me to admit it. I don't have a date either. Blaise is going with Daphne, and when I asked Pansy, she told me Goyle had already asked her. Goyle, can you believe it?"
"Yes," the girl weasel stated. He looked at her incredulously. "Wait, you mean you haven't seen her staring at him? She's not subtle about it." This time his mouth fell all the way open.
"But… Goyle? The man's shoe size is higher than his IQ." She chuckled at this and he felt the same inexplicable happiness.
"He's sweet though. I guess you never actually talked to him long enough to notice. He was always just one of your cronies." He didn't know how to respond to this, so he just sat there, feeling rather dumb. The Weaselette made an exasperated noise. "It's just going to be so embarrassing. Hermione tried to comfort me, and like an idiot I told her no, I was fine, because I already had a date."
"But you don't."
"Not in the slightest." She looked at her hands, then up at him. He cocked an eyebrow at her.
"I see an idea forming in that ginger head of yours, Weasley. And it's scaring me." She continued to stare at him. "Weasley… I'm serious. You're a frightening person when you think." He went to stand up, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him back down.
"Malfoy. Hold on a second. Neither of us have dates. And we both know how mortifying it would be to go alone…"
"No. Weasley, you can't be serious."
"I'm completely serious. It wouldn't even be that bad. Look at us now; we've been having a civil conversation for almost a quarter of an hour."
"Well, yes, but the dance is far longer than that. And-"
"Think about it Malfoy. Imagine how much it will piss off Harry. And my brother. It wouldn't be a real date or anything. We'd just be going as friends." He gave her a look at this statement. "Fine," she conceded, "as enemies." She was looking right at him, no trace of tears left, a mischievous look in her eyes.
"All right, Weasley, you've got yourself a date."
She smiled then, a real smile, and he found himself wanting to do everything he could to see that smile all the time. But she was already getting up, pulling him up after her.
"Excellent. I'll meet you in the entrance hall at seven. My dress is green, so you shouldn't have any problems matching it." She flashed him one last grin, then turned on her heel and practically skipped off the way he had come, leaving a stunned Draco Malfoy standing in the middle of the hall.
~~~~~~~
He was still in shock when he got back to the common room. He slumped into a chair near the fire, not even noticing Blaise, who was lounging on the neighboring couch.
"Why, Draco," he drawled, "you look like you've seen a ghost. Or your aunt. Or the ghost of your aunt." He chuckled, obviously thinking himself clever.
"Unfortunately, Draco replied sullenly, "Dear Aunt Bella is still very alive. Oh, and fuck off."
Blaise laughed, closing his book and giving his friend his full attention. "You know what, I don't think I will, as you so eloquently put it, fuck off. At least not until you tell me what's got you looking like you've just seen Crabbe in his underwear."
Draco shuddered. "Thanks for that mental image, mate."
"Anytime. But seriously, what happened?"
"I may have just agreed to go to the Yule Ball with Weasley."
"What? Draco, I didn't think you batted for the other team. I'm not judging. Whatever simmers your cauldron."
"I- what? Oh, no, the girl Weasley."
Blaise looked at him in confusion. "There's a girl Weasley? I thought they were all blokes. Although I guess it makes sense. Statistically speaking, there are so many of them, one is bound to be a girl."
"Statistically-" Draco shook his head. "Whatever, Blaise. Yes, there's a girl Weasley. Jenny, I think her name is."
"Ginny," corrected Daphne, who had just flounced into the common room and deposited herself on Blaise's lap. "Her name's Ginny, not Jenny. But why are we discussing Gryffindors?"
"We are not discussing anything," Draco started to say, but Blaise cut him off, informing Daphne, "Draco's going to the ball with her."
"Really?" Daphne looked interestedly at the boy who had slumped even further into his armchair. "I thought she hated you and everything you stood for. How'd you get her to agree to go to a ball with you?"
"For your information, she asked me," Draco spat, before pushing himself irately out of the chair and stomping up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.
"What's got his panties in a knot?" inquired Daphne, watching him disappear up the steps.
"He's just jealous because I love you more than him," Blaise replied, grinning at his girlfriend. She smiled back at him. "Well, I don't see why he's so surprised. I am awesome. Who wouldn't love me?" She leaned down to meet his lips and the two of them soon forgot all about Draco Malfoy.
~~~~~~~
There was one person in Gryffindor tower who was having a harder time getting a certain blond Slytherin out of her head. Ginny Weasley was currently pacing in circles around the girls’ dormitory, much to the annoyance of her brother’s girlfriend. Hermione sat on Ginny’s bed, becoming more and more dizzy as she watched her friend trace the same path on the floor again and again.
“Can you stop that for two minutes and explain to me what has gotten you so upset? You’re making my head hurt.” Ginny obliged, flopping down on her back next to Hermione and covering her face with a pillow. “Ok, that’s a start,” said Hermione cheerfully, “now what’s wrong?”
Ginny’s response was unintelligible, muffled as it was by the pillow still pressed against her face.
“Seriously?” Hermione sighed, before grabbing a corner of the pillow and yanking it out of Ginny’s grasp. “Try again, please, and enunciate your words.” Ginny took a deep breath, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.
“It’s my date for the ball.”
“And you still aren’t going to tell me who it is? Are you absolutely sure you didn’t just make him up in an effort to convince me you are ok with Harry and Luna? Because I won’t judge you if you did. It’s completely understandable.”
“He’s real, Hermione, I promise. You of all people should believe me, after what you went through the last time we had one of these ridiculous things.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right. And I do believe you. I just… well, you know I like to know everything. I’ll be the first to admit it.” Ginny smiled at this.
“I know, Hermione, but trust me when I say you don’t want to know this right now. This way, when you find out at the ball, the surprise will come all at once. Like… ripping off a bandage.”
“Ginny, how could it be that bad? It’s just a guy. It’s not like you’re going with Malfoy or something.”
“Heh, right…” laughed Ginny nervously, hoping Hermione didn’t notice it was rather forced. “That would be ridiculous.” There was an uncomfortable silence. When it became evident that Hermione was studying her for any hint of who her mystery date was, Ginny decided she had had enough.
“I think I need to talk to Morgan about this. I’ll see you later Hermione, all right?”
“Wait a minute-“ called Hermione, but Ginny had already disappeared down the stairs. Hermione sighed and stood up off the bed, descending the stairs at a more reasonable pace.
When she got to the common room, she found a bewildered looking Ron staring blankly at the portrait hole.
“Was that my sister? Was she- do I want to know?” Hermione laughed at his expression, which was the same one he had worn the time the twins had managed to enchant every object he touched to turn into a rubber duck.
“She’s just going to see Morgan,” Hermione informed him, sliding her hand into his.
“Hmph,” humphed Ron, “I don’t see why she has to ‘go see Morgan’ at five hundred kilometers an hour. I don’t think Ravenclaw tower is going anywhere any time soon.” His eyes stayed on the portrait hole for another moment before he shook his head to snap himself out of it.
“Anyway, d’you think you could help me get Seamus to the hospital wing? Romilda Vane decided the best way to get him to ask her to the ball was to slip him a love potion, but he already asked Lavender, and when he started declaring his love for Romilda, Lav got a little jealous. So now he’s drugged and sporting a black eye, and…” His words trailed off as they climbed out of the portrait hole and went in search of the unfortunate object of Romilda’s obsession- er, affections.
To Be Continued.
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