(1/2) Chapter 2: Up to Snuff "Not Good Enough, Potter!" Malfoy snapped at him, kicking his shoe into place. He had stepped a half pace instead of a quarter. It had been five days since the Yule Ball’s announcement, and Harry had been through two official lessons with Professor McGonagall (both with Malfoy) and was painfully in the process of attending his first impromptu practice with Dracona Malfoy. Harry had been forced in a way to reluctantly accept what he could only perceive as a threat. Despite finding Malfoy to be at best a nuisance, and at worst, a danger to his life, Harry had to admit she was an exceptionally talented dancer. Despite this, Harry didn’t find her to be the friendliest of teachers. Malfoy had broken away from him and pointed her wand at the music box on the wall, stopping the music. She had her arms crossed and was staring daggers at him. “You are not feeling the music, Potter. You are still thinking too much. Stop thinking about where to step with that tiny brain of yours and just move your legs properly. Try again.” The waltz resumed. Malfoy had a habit of pacing when she was irritated, and now she hounded him about his technique by endlessly circling him. Harry felt like he was playing Quidditch with how Malfoy relentlessly chased and pestered him. Harry was used to performing in front of hostile crowds, but he found himself counting the minutes until his lesson with her was over. Whatever pleasantries she had shown him earlier in the week vanished the moment she began instructing. Harry finished his step progressions and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Can we… can we please take a break? I don’t want to use my entire free weekend being abused by you.” Malfoy flicked her wand from under her arm and the music was silenced. “Better? If you could dance as well as you complain, I wouldn’t have to get onto you so often, Potter.” Harry flopped to the floor. He had changed out of his Hogwarts robes into something more suited for dancing, but the abandoned room they were practicing in was surprisingly warm. Harry couldn’t complain too much due to the snow outside. Harry scanned the peculiar chamber. “Malfoy, I never knew that there was a dance hall on the seventh floor. I must have walked past it a million times.” Malfoy had sunk into her chair and followed his eyes around the ceiling. “I wouldn’t put it past you to miss the obvious.” She played with her hair without looking at him. The Gryffindor dormitory was also on the seventh-floor, so Harry was perplexed as to how he had missed such a large space. It had high vaulted ceilings, mirrored walls on all four sides, and was almost exactly what one might imagine if they thought of a dance studio. Harry could feel it in his legs that today's session was over for him. Malfoy sat cross-legged on the other side of the dance floor. “How did you know this place was up here then?” Harry mused breathlessly. Malfoy cast her eyes back upon Harry and took a deep breath, “You of all people surely aren’t judging me for sneaking around, are you?” she beamed with a coy smile. The hypocrisy was not lost on Harry; An accusation coming from someone who notoriously bent the rules every year must've sounded rich. She continued acting distant and lounged in her chair like she owned the place. “For your information Potter, I’ve been coming here to dance since first year. One doesn’t magically become as talented as I am without practice. I missed the dancing lessons at Malfoy Manor from when I was a girl. Anytime I got homesick, wanted to run away, if I felt like dancing, I would find this room here…” Harry chuckled and a disarmed look came over Malfoy’s blushing face. “When you teased me about practicing for the ballet, I hadn’t the faintest clue you were talking about yourself!” Harry snickered. Malfoy narrowed her eyes as if searching for a memory before her face lit up. “I’m NOT a Ballerina, Potter. I only- you can remember my Quidditch banter from years ago?” Harry’s wit took over, “I tried my best to ignore you actually, but you have a habit of being really loud and obnoxious. Some of them were real charmers though.” The two of them laughed heartily, but trailed off. Idle chitchat with Malfoy was still something new for Harry and the conversations usually ended clumsily. He couldn’t help but feel he was being a little childish, but Harry was afraid to excuse himself. It wasn’t beyond possibility that she might attack him. Harry wagered his chances and began to speak, “Malfoy, I think this might be enough for today. I still have studying to do, and well it’s getting late-” Malfoy jumped from her seat and stretched her arms widely. She had rolled her sleeves up and her hair was in a ponytail. She usually only wore it that way for Quidditch. “Correct you are, Potter. I have my own life as well.” She picked up his bag and walked it over to him on the floor. “Keep working on your half turns. We'll start pirouettes and spins next time.” Harry groaned as he rose from the floor. “Honestly Potter… Can’t expect me to keep doing charity work all day long. You really should pay me back.” Harry was relieved to be finished, but he figured they had ended on a good note. He could’ve continued chatting, but he was supposed to meet with Hermione to study. He made his way to a partition in the corner that they used to change in. Harry couldn't dress for dancing in the dormitories without being seen, and he would be mortified to change in front of her. As he pulled on his jumper he heard her yell from outside after him. “What time next week?” He heard her approaching now and was worried she might barge in on him. “Just a second!” He heard a moan from outside “Do you really think I want to see you naked, Potter? Answer the question.” He opened the curtain after changing to see her aggravated look had returned. “Which one?” She smacked him square in the chest pushing him back into the booth. “Oww! What now Malfoy? You already told me when and where.” She puffed up and put a hand on her hip. “I’d just like to hear you say it. It’s a common courtesy, Potter. Maybe Mudbloods and Muggles wouldn't know any better, but I'd expect you to show some mutual respect.” Harry winced and felt impatient, but he also sensed an ulterior motivation. He remembered McGonagall’s warning. “The time we agreed upon. That still works for me. I know your time is more valuable than mine.” She was annoyed by his answer. “Fine by me. And I won’t expect a thank you for taking such risks to help you, Potter.” Harry found this the funniest part of their arrangement. But he wouldn’t want to be seen alone around her either. “What was your excuse to come up here today? I said I had detention.” Malfoy just gave him a vapid stare, “Like it matters to you, Potter. Just don’t be seen leaving…” She moped back to her chair and grabbed her robe, “Leave. So I can start changing.” Harry did as she commanded. Walking back onto the seventh-floor hallway, he nearly ran into Crabbe and Goyle. Harry nodded, “Hiya. Did we miss anything interesting?” The two just scowled as Harry walked away grinning. Sharing a secret with Malfoy was strange enough. Knowing that she had enlisted her two prats to keep watch was so odd that Harry couldn’t think about it too hard without hurting himself laughing. Somehow he knew her secret was safe with them, hidden away somewhere in their empty skulls. ------ The next morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione ate breakfast in the great hall, which seemed to buzz with a new fervor. The four tables usually assigned to the four houses had noticed a sharp increase in inter-house fraternization as boys and girls began pairing off for the Yule Ball, which was only a week or so away. Hermione was giving Harry a rare break from scolding over the second task; the Yule Ball had shifted the focus of most of his classmates towards more trivial matters. Ron opened the conversation as he kept looking over his shoulder at what was normally the Slytherin Table. As of late, it sat many of the guests from Durmstrang, including one Viktor Krum. “Say, Harry, You know Viktor now right? Figure you could ask him for me? Maybe he could introduce me to someone for the Ball.” Harry only looked up from his Daily Prophet article and gave an unconvincing, “Sure thing Ron.” Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to Harry with intent. He believed a lecture was coming, so he pretended to really scrutinize Rita Skeeter’s latest hit piece. “Harry… We need to talk about the Ball. And who you’re thinking of taking with you.” Ron had perked up and turned around. “Oh don’t worry Hermione, I won’t ask you- I would never.” Harry said, jumping to conclusions. She hit him with her tablecloth. “You know that’s not what I meant you ass. This is serious! Please tell me you’ve given it some thought.” Ron appeared to relax some. Harry acted stoically, but he couldn’t help the sinking feeling. He really did not want to bridge this conversation with Hermione, or anyone for that matter. With Sirius maybe, he could feel comfortable. But talking about girls was something Harry just wanted to bury. “Hadn’t really thought about it.” Harry lied. Hermione cut through his defenses, “Some of the girls are saying Cho has been pretty popular with proposals. She hasn’t said yes to any as far as I’m aware, but it probably won’t stay that way for long.” Harry felt like drowning. Cho was who he had planned on asking. Had he waited too long? He didn’t really know or like his options beyond her. He looked across the hall to Slytherin’s table and saw Malfoy in what looked like a heated conversation with Pansy Parkinson. “No! No Harry- Slytherins are strictly off limits! Both of you, I forbid it!” Harry started to defend himself but was cut off by Ron who shook his head, “What are you, our mother? But… yeah, probably best to steer clear of any of those.” Harry felt defensive, “I hadn’t planned on that, no. I haven’t gone totally mental yet.” Malfoy had now grabbed Pansy’s robe and was nearly standing over the table. Ron scratched his head, “I know Fred and George were just messing with you, but what’s the deal with her wanting to practice with you in McGonagall’s?” Ron caught himself and put his hands out, “I mean no offense Harry, you’re a catch and all, but… It has to be a trap right? Like she’s trying to draw you over to the dark side? Make a fool of you in front of everyone.” Hermione finally lost her composure, dropping her book on the table, “She hasn’t asked you has she!? Say no Harry! Don’t even entertain that foul woman. Ron’s right. It would be beyond foolish.” Ron felt buoyed by her comment and turned to Harry almost gloatingly. Harry was forced to respond, “Thanks, I don’t need either of you to tell me that. McGonagall said the same thing. I’m only still her partner because- Well, she’s actually a really good dancer.” “At least she's good for something besides being evil.” Ron snorted. Harry's answer was mostly true and his friends seemed to buy it. He noticed that Malfoy was no longer sitting at the table and a confused looking Pansy was looking towards the entrance hall where Malfoy was storming off. Harry nearly rose up to follow her but stopped himself. "Either way Harry, you should probably get moving and ask someone. You can’t show up alone, it makes Hogwarts look bad.” Hermione was back to her book having not noticed anything. Ron was staring at some Beauxbatons girls at the Hufflepuff table and looked deep in thought. Harry stared at Rita's unpleasant image dancing on his paper and felt he had already made his decision. ------ The following days did not assuage any of Harry’s concerns regarding the Ball. Even though he had told himself a decision had been made, he still had not mustered the courage to ask Cho. Girls with whom he had never even spoken were approaching him at an alarming rate. And while he was flattered, he was also unwilling to accept any invitations if Cho was still available. At least his lessons with McGonagall were now going smoothly. Harry felt as though he had improved massively in such a short time. Once he realized Malfoy wouldn’t cut his head off in front of everyone, his focus was greatly improved. Even his private lessons with Malfoy became something to look forward to instead of something he dreaded. Spending the time learning to dance properly with Malfoy was a welcome break from the constant and unwanted outside attention. She also wasn’t nearly as abrasive in private. The final class with McGonagall had involved a complete hands-on dance with a partner. And for the first time since it had been announced, Harry felt confident in the thought that he wouldn’t embarrass himself or the school. It was still awkward to hold Malfoy’s hand or touch her waist, so Harry was glad the classes in the public eye were over. Malfoy was adamant that his private lessons would continue right up to the Yule Ball. During one of Moody’s lectures, an Origami crane had flown onto his desk, and the letter inside was from none other than Malfoy. She had a habit of initialing DM on her work. The message was short and to the point: ~Two more sessions, 20th & 21st, Same place, Same time~ ~DM~ “Has Malfoy at least gotten any better at her doodles? Let me see how she's tortured cartoon Harry this time.” Ron grabbed the letter before Harry could react, leaving him scrambling. Ron made a putrid face as he scanned the small square of paper. Harry looked anxiously over his arm and noticed the words had vanished, replaced by an animated Harry slipping and falling in a cartoony ballroom. “Tell her she’s improving. Git.” And Ron flung the drawing back to him. Harry looked over his shoulder to see Dracona laughing with Millicent Bulstrode, and Ron pulled his shoulder back. “Don’t mind them Harry- ” But Harry was almost too impressed to answer. He didn’t mind at all; Malfoy had used their public animosity as a perfect means to make their communication impervious. It was an incredible cover. Harry pulled his wand out and whispered ‘Incendio’ and the paper flamed into dust. Harry was willing to continue the lessons, but he still lacked a partner for the Ball. And hiding away for private dances during personal hours seemed to work against meeting any women. Harry pondered this as he walked up to the seventh-floor. He saw Crabbe and Goyle were posted on opposite hallway corners in front of the danceroom. Harry found great joy in thinking up new ways of pestering his new fair-weather friends. “Sorry constables, but I think she wanted a double session today. Hope you both are free to stand around doing nothing for another three hours.” Harry started to chuckle as they worked out the time on both hands and looked troubled. But before he reached the door, he saw a group of Ravenclaws out of the corner of his eye. A group of girls in their blue-lined robes were leaving Flitwick’s charms class, and Harry had spotted her. Cho was walking with them but she hadn't seen him and was making her way to the grand staircase. Harry looked panicked towards Goyle who stood vacantly, “Umm- Hold this, I’ll be back in a second, or two- Thanks.” Goyle held Harry’s bag as one would unwillingly handle a stranger's baby, and Harry ran after Cho. He caught up to her on the sixth floor and shouted across the bannister. “CHO! CHO! IT’S ME HARRY!” Cho had heard him and stopped, but so had the crowd of girls who were with her. They giggled much to Harry’s displeasure while he caught his breath. “Ca- can we talk?” Harry was glad that Cho wasn’t laughing, and he managed to split her from her cackling classmates. Harry and Cho stopped in a small alcove, and as Harry tried to start talking a lump was forming in his throat. He knew he was nervous, he’d had eyes on Cho for a while, but something was making him apprehensive. Like he shouldn’t ask her at all. “Wangoballwime?” Harry’s words came out in a jumbled and nervous wreck. “Pardon me?” Cho waited graciously. Harry had to clear his throat. “D’you- Do you want to go to the Ball with me?” Harry’s stomach leaped upon hearing his own voice. Despite having practiced this exact scenario hundreds of times, the words came out truncated and robotic. Cho’s face told Harry it was already too late. Her smile had faded at the edges, and her eyes drooped. “I’m really sorry Harry, but I’d already agreed to go with someone else.” Harry figured as much and began wringing his hands reflexively. “Yeah. No- That’s great. I just figured… Yeah.” His insides had stopped doing flips and now he wondered if he had any guts at all. A great hollow sensation became overwhelming, and he wanted nothing more than to walk back up the stairs. “Sorry Harry, I’ll get going now. See you later okay?” Cho gave a pained look and Harry made an unconscious wave before slowly ascending the stairs back to the seventh-floor. He fought an incredible urge to ask who she was going with, but it didn't matter. Now he only wanted to crawl back to his bed and never come out. But he was already late in meeting with Malfoy. As he approached, Crabbe began to grin upon seeing his expression. Goyle exited the studio, closing the door behind him. He was without Harry’s bag. He grunted and motioned with his neck as if to say, ‘It’s in there’. Malfoy was sitting in the center of the dancefloor holding Harry’s bag, rifling through his papers and reading. Normally Harry would be outraged at such an invasion of his privacy, but currently Harry felt a bitter nothingness and simply walked to the partition in the corner to change. As Harry changed she spoke out loud, “While you’re nice and occupied, I’m letting you know I took the liberty of pilfering through your things, Potter. No secret love letters, So sad! But what a relief, good to know you'll be nice and focused today.” Harry wasn’t really listening as he put on his dress shoes. “Hurry up in there lover boy, remember that we’re on a tight schedule. You gave me a date and time for a reason.” Harry stepped out and made way for Malfoy, who was reclining on her elbows and looking at him upside down. “Why not just come here already dressed? You could wear that stupid cloak, it would be easy.” She was holding up a single parchment with Harry’s Defense Against the Dark Arts notes on it. He snatched the paper and his bag back from her, stuffing his things inside. “Because you said it would scare the two trolls standing outside. Also people will notice if I change in the dormitory. I already told you. Believe me, if I could avoid you, I would.” Harry was very aggravated and didn’t like repeating himself. Malfoy stood up and moved to turn on the music. “You can’t dance well if you’re in a pissy mood, Potter. Come, take my hand.” Harry threw his bag into her usual chair and stomped over to her and clenched her hand. Harry immediately regretted this as a look of consternation grew across her face. He loosened his grip, putting a hand on her waist and letting her take the lead. They spun around the room in a fairly simple maneuver five or so times, something they must’ve done a hundred times by this point over two weeks. She was looking at him quizzically, as if trying to study his thoughts. He didn't like it. Harry was growing frustrated as to why they were still practicing such simple steps. After McGonagall’s lessons had ended, Harry didn’t think he needed further instruction. Harry piped up, “Can we just skip the warm up please and do something different?” But he felt like he spoke too loudly. Malfoy released him and flung him three or more steps forward. “You want to skip practice. Fine. Forget the basics. Jump straight to the incredible stuff for the stupendous Potter. You tell me how to teach, go on.” Harry was irked and regretted saying anything, “I don’t understand you Malfoy. Why even put me through all of this. Why are you even doing this? Why are you taking this so seriously? No one is watching us. D’you get some sort of sick laugh watching me embarrass myself?” Malfoy had stopped pacing in circles around him now and had begun massaging her arms through the sleeves of her grey sweater. “I’ve already told you that, Potter. What’s got you so distracted you want to quit all of the sudden?” Harry had dug himself into a hole with a conversation he never meant to start. “Forget it, you know that’s not what I meant. Doesn’t matter why, I’m just not in the mood today.” Malfoy looked at him sternly before flicking off the music with a sigh. “Goyle told me as much. He’s more observant than you’d think… Don’t worry, you’ll find someone else.” Harry didn’t understand what she meant. Malfoy approached him closely and Harry became afraid. She slowly and somewhat awkwardly put a hand on his shoulder. Her face looked strained and discomforted. “Forget about that Cho girl, Harry.” Harry was stunned for some reason. How had she known? Why had she called him Harry? Why was she treating him like a child? Before he could process everything, he’d already smacked her hand off of him. He lashed out, “Why do you care about who I ask!? What business of yours is that? And who told you?” Malfoy held her arm with the opposite hand and looked indignant. “Goyle. Goyle told me. I already told you. He said you ran after Cho. It was a good guess. You know why? Because I already knew, Harry. I watched Cedric ask Cho three days ago.” Her tone was stern but there was implicit strain in her voice, like it pained her to explain herself. It made Harry even angrier. “Stop teasing me Malfoy, I don’t wanna hear it.” Harry tried walking away. “What!?” Malfoy was also getting riled up. She barged through her chair knocking it over as she distanced herself from Harry. “Harry! YOU waited too long for Cho, and YOU lost your chance. I'm NOT teasing, it's the truth! YOU acted the SAME way you do with dancing. YOU got yourself frozen up thinking instead of just doing it. Don’t blame me Harry, you-” “SHUT UP MALFOY! JUST SHUT UP!” Malfoy’s eyes sank as she stopped speaking mid thought. “STOP CALLING ME HARRY!” He screamed. “Since when have you ever called me anything other than Potter?” He was losing his patience. “I’ve been asking myself why I keep coming back here. Just to waste time with someone who hates me. You keep begging me to show up and do the same damned moves over and over again. Turn, turn, half turn. I'm SICK of dancing with you!” Harry was shaking all over. That empty feeling had been replaced by a seething rage. And all of it was directed entirely at her. “You never had to say yes! You could leave whenever you want, you ass!” Malfoy choked back at him, staying far away. Harry lost control and ran up to her, “Except you don’t mean that! If you think keeping me here is going to make me ask you to that stupid Ball, You’re dead wrong! It’s never going to happen!” Dracona got very quiet and crossed her arms. She couldn't hide how hurt she was feeling and her eyes were turning red and glassy. “Like you’d even ask. And now you’re back to how you usually treat me. Like everyone does to me. The same as that Mudblood and Weasley… You're all the same. Please, just leave if you hate me that much…” “Oh come off it- Stop joking around and leave me alone! Stay away from me.” Harry contemptuously grabbed his things while Malfoy was standing alone in the middle of the room. She didn’t say another word. She only watched him with a destitute look in her eyes. Harry faltered for a moment, as he could've sworn he saw her lip quiver. Harry entered the partition in the corner and thought about changing, when he heard the door slam behind him. Peeking his head out of the curtain, he saw the room was empty all except for his reflection in the wall. Harry stepped out into the hallway, and there was no sign of Malfoy, Crabbe or Goyle. Harry was suddenly overcome with an immense feeling of shame. He wished he could take those words back, wished he could go back to feeling empty, this felt so much worse. Harry made the long march back to the Gryffindor dormitory with his head lowered; his dress shoes clacked loudly with each step, echoing through the empty hall. ------ Art by @Grin2702