Doing the Hippogriff

He was snooping in this fashion in the Arithmancy classroom when he heard singing. It was soft, true, but getting louder; the singer was coming in his direction. A smirk formed on his handsome face. Whoever this was—and the voice sounded vaguely familiar—promised some sport for him. And the best part was, he could not be reported for sneaking out of his dorm without that person being punished too. He learned this from bitter experience, having once "done his duty" by reporting Potter and his cronies for being out of bed one night only to find himself on detention and fifty points taken from Slytherin as well.

Creeping to the doorway, making sure he kept to the shadows, he waited for his newest 'victim' to approach.

Ginny Weasley was tired, and ready to curl up and fall asleep right where she was in the hallway. Of course, all that would get her is another detention and more points taken from Gryffindor, so she had no choice but to keep going. Her one consolation was that if she was caught now, she had the excuse of having been on detention. And Professor Snape was a hard taskmaster, which was why she was heading back to the Gryffindor Tower at such a late hour.

Her mind wandered as she walked along. She thought back to the Yule Ball just a couple of weeks past. That had been a good night, and she had quite enjoyed herself. True, Neville was not the best dancer in the world, and her feet did show some bruises the next day; but he was very sweet, and he had given her her first kiss. Not to mention the fact that his invitation allowed her to attend the event which was mainly restricted to Fourth Years and above, and such invitations were in very short supply (and yes, Harry Potter did eventually ask her, but only as a last resort, and that hurt).

With her mind on the Yule Ball, she began to sing one of The Weird Sisters' songs as she walked along. " 'Move your body like a hairy troll learning to rock and roll. Spin around like a crazy elf a dancin' by himself'."

As if opening a floodgate, she started to dance rather than simply walk. She had no worries about being caught—all the students should have been in their dorms hours ago.

Draco smiled to himself. He could hear the singing getting louder as the student came closer; he could tell it was a girl singing, and he recognised the song—'Do the Hippogriff' by The Weird Sisters, which they had played at the Yule Ball two weeks previously. Briefly a frown marred his features. Given that attendance to the ball was restricted to Fourth Years and above except by invitation of an older student, a majority of the students who went were older than he was, and tormenting an older student was not necessarily a good thing. He shook the thought away. There had been younger students there, and whomever this was may know the song from somewhere other than the ball. And if it proved to be an older student, he could just stay in the shadows until they passed. There will be other tormenting opportunities, after all.

He was in luck. When the singer came into view he recognised Ginny Weasley, the youngest of the accursed Weasley brood. The Weasleys' were always good for tormenting, indeed, as a Malfoy, he felt honour-bound to do so. And Ginny was younger than him, which made it even better!

The littlest Weasley came closer, and his smile grew. She was well into the second verse of the song, dancing as well as singing; and the next lines gave him the perfect opening...

" 'Get it on like an angry spectre'..." Ginny sang to herself as she danced down the hall past the Arithmancy classroom.

" 'Who's definitely out to get ya'," a new, menacing voice said behind her.

Ginny gasped and whirled around. There, standing in front of her, was Draco Malfoy. There was a definite smirk on his handsome face (and she fully admitted to herself that he was handsome, even if he was a git), and a rather wicked gleam in his eyes. "What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked bluntly, proud that there was no waver in her voice left over from being startled.

"Tsk tsk, little Weasley," he tutted. "Do you always speak to your betters like that?"

"Who says that you're my better, Malfoy?" she shot back. Because she hardly ever spoke around Harry Potter, she gave the impression of being a quiet little mouse; but truthfully, she was anything but. Growing up with six older brothers gave her the ability to give as well as she got, and she had no problem exchanging barbs with the likes of Draco Malfoy.

Draco may not have been used to his victims coming back with sass, but when violence was not involved, he was no pushover either. "It's common knowledge, little Weasley. My family is rich, we come from old money, and my father is an important man in the Ministry. You, however, your family is dirt poor, and your father is a nobody. Clearly, that makes me your better."

Ginny bristled at the disparagement of her father, but she made show not to let it show to Malfoy that he had gotten to her. "No, all that shows is that you're clearly intimidated by your father, so much so that you use him to boost your own ego. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my dorm."

She whirled around again, and began walking away, effectively dismissing him. It was obviously not to his liking, for he called out to her, "Why are you out so late anyway, little Weasley. I could report you for being out of bed."

She smirked at him over her shoulder. "Not without getting yourself in trouble. I know what happened when you tried to report Harry three years ago. Besides, I have a reason: I'm coming back from detention. What's your excuse?"

He did not have a valid one, and she knew it. However, that did not stop the retorts coming. "I saw you at the Yule Ball, dancing with Longbottom. What happened, Potter didn't as you to the ball?"

Ginny closed her eyes for a brief moment, fighting the hurt she felt at the fact that Harry had only asked her to the ball virtually at the last minute, and that she wasn't his first choice, that he asked her when he realised that she was a girl he could ask. She would not let Draco Malfoy see that hurt. She would not let him see his barb hurt. "No, Harry asked me," she said, glad that her voice was steady. "But Neville asked me first."

"I'm surprised that you didn't tell Longbottom where to go when Potter asked you. Don't you have a thing for him?"

She felt herself blush, and was glad that her back was still to him. "I'm not the type to back out of a date just because someone else asks me. Harry didn't ask me quick enough, that's his loss. Besides, Neville's sweet. I was glad to go to the ball with him. I saw you there with Pansy Parkinson. Did you have a good time with her screeching in your ear?"

"You have no right to say anything about her," Draco hissed.

"And you have no right to say anything about Neville," she shot back.

When a quick retort was not forthcoming, she proceeded to walk away. She had only made it a few steps, however, when she heard him following. A hand reached out and grabbed her arm in a surprisingly hard grip.

"Not so fast, little Weasley. I thought we could have a little dance." He pulled her roughly toward him.

Draco had no idea what he thought he was doing. He was annoyed with the littlest Weasley, he knew that much. She was supposed to quake with fear when he confronted her, not talk back! That was not to his liking. Then she had the nerve to walk away from him? That could not be allowed to happen—it was bad enough when Granger had hit him before an audience, he could not let anyone else get the better of him. He had startled her with the line 'Who's definitely out to get ya', he needed to play on that to get his edge back. So he caught her up as she walked away, and grabbed her arm, pulling her to him.

His original intent was to frantically waltz her down the hall to the beat and tune of 'Do the Hippogriff', singing as they went. But something happened when he pulled her to him. Something changed. For a moment he just held her to him, looking into her brown eyes, feeling... something... in the air between them. Unconsciously, his intent changed.

Slowly, he adjusted his hold on her, bringing them into a position more suitable for a slow dance. Instead of singing 'Do the Hippogriff' as was his intent, he started singing 'Magic Works', the song that The Weird Sisters finished with as the final dance of the ball.

" 'And dance your final dance. This is your final chance To hold the one you love. You know you've waited long enough'."

At first he just swayed back and forth with her in his arms, his tenor voice getting louder as they danced. By the time he got to the chorus of the song, he started to move them, not just swaying back and forth but actually moving in slow circles; all the while looking into her eyes as he sang.

" 'So, Believe that magic works. Don't be afraid Of bein' hurt. Don't let this magic die. The answer's there, Oh, just look in her eyes'."

So caught up was he in their dance and the song that he did not notice the approach of another. Not until the shout echoed down the hall.

"Oi! Let her go, Malfoy!"

"Oi! Let her go, Malfoy!"

The shout broke the spell, and Ginny stumbled, pulling back against Draco's hold. Turning her head, she saw Michael Corner, the Fourth Year Ravenclaw she had made her acquaintance with at the ball, running up to them with his wand drawn. He stopped less than a metre away, wand right in Draco's face. Draco had not been idle. He swiftly let go of Ginny, causing her to stumble back further, and had his wand out within a second of Michael getting in his face.

It was a stand-off, two Fourth Years just a breath away from hexing each other. The mood was suddenly tense, so different from just a moment ago, when Draco and Ginny were lost in their dance. Ginny found herself holding her breath, waiting for something to happen. She had no idea what she wanted to happen, whether she wanted Michael Corner to come to her rescue, or if she wanted Draco Malfoy to remain unharmed. That last thought was unbidden, and she shook her head to be rid of it. What kind of Weasley was she to care about the fate of her brother's nemesis?

"Are you all right, Ginny?" Michael asked her without taking his eyes off Malfoy.

She nodded, blushing at the realisation that he remembered who she was. "He didn't hurt me," she confirmed.

"You're lucky, Malfoy, you get to leave here unscathed."

Draco's expression turned into a sneer as he stared the Ravenclaw down. "And what do you think you can do about it, Corner?"

"You'd be surprised what I can do, Malfoy," Michael's reply was even. "So here's what is going to happen. You are going to put your wand away, turn around and walk away. If you don't, you'll wish you had."

"And if I don't?"

Ginny drew her wand at that moment. "Two against one, Malfoy. I may be younger, but you don't grow up with six older brothers without learning some tricks. I think between Michael and myself we can make you regret not walking away."

For a moment, it looked as though Draco would resist, but it seemed he thought better of it. He backed away from the drawn wands, though he kept the smirk on his face. When he was a few metres away from them, he stopped. "Aren't you going to go too?" he asked, a cocked eyebrow over a silver eye.

"We know what you're like, Malfoy," Michael shot back. "You're the type who's too cowardly to face a wizard head on, but has no problem hexing him when his back is turned. So we're just going to stay here until you're out of sight. Get along."

Draco's pale skin flushed, no doubt because he was intending to do just that. "You better watch your back, Corner. You know what they say about revenge. Be seeing you, Little Weasley."

Michael and Ginny waited until Draco had disappeared around the corner. "You should be all right now Wea... Ginny."

She ginned. "Nice catch." When they talked at the ball, she had asked him to call her Ginny, as when someone said 'Weasley' she tended to look for one of her brothers. "And I'd better get going. If Snape were to catch me in the halls now, he'd give me another detention for dawdling on my way back to the dorm. He'd never believe that I was delayed by Malfoy, one of his own."

"I could vouch for you."

"Snape still wouldn't believe it, and you'd get detention too for being out of bed after hours."

"I had detention with Professor Sprout, and she would vouch that I haven't been dawdling. But you're right, we'd best get going. Come on, I'll escort you back." Michael held his arm out to her.

She smiled, and resisted the urge to curtsy at his manners. "Thank you, kind sir. So what did you do to earn a detention from Professor Sprout? She is one of the more easy-going teachers here."

"No, actually, I think that title belongs to Professor Flitwick. She caught me trying to sneak some cuttings from Greenhouse Two."

"And what were you trying to cut?"

Michael waggled his eyebrows. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

She shook her head, and turned the conversation to a different topic. They chatted while they walked, until they came to a junction in the corridor. "Well, here is where we part," she said, somewhat reluctantly.

"You don't want me to escort you the rest of the way?" Michael asked with a bit of a pout.

The pout made Ginny smile a little shyly, unusual for her. "I wouldn't mind it, but it would cause more problems than it's worth. Besides, I may not know exactly where the Ravenclaw dorm is, but I know it's not in this direction. I wouldn't want you to get into trouble for being in a part of the castle you're not meant to be in this time of night."

"Fair enough. It was nice talking to you again, Ginny Weasley. You take care of yourself, now." Squeezing her hand as he pulled his arm out, he mimed tipping a hat at her before slowly walking away. She watched him go, a giggle on her lips.

But as he disappeared from her sight, so did her giggle. For as charming as Michael Corner was, she could not help remembering the impromptu dance with Draco Malfoy. It had started out so menacingly, and she had been sure he was going to hurt her in some way. But he hadn't. Instead he had given her a dance which had rivalled any that Neville had given her at the ball. And it was not just his skill at dancing (which, she had to admit, was impressive), but some energy which fairly crackled between them. Even the memory almost stole her breath away. She had no idea what it meant, and a tiny part of her wanted to experience it again.

She shook her herself. It was no good thinking like that. Nothing could ever happen between her and Draco Malfoy. Even if it were possible, her brothers would skin her alive. And it was not likely to ever happen again, anyway. It was more likely that Malfoy would use the moment against her, to tease her mercilessly in the future. It would be better for her to just forget it ever happened.

But something told her that she would have a hard time forgetting it.

Draco Malfoy brooded on his way back to the Slytherin dungeons. How could he have been bested by a Ravenclaw and a Weasley nobody? He had to get them back somehow. Sometime when they least expect it. Sometime when he had Crabbe or Goyle to back him up. Or maybe not, those two were idiots. They were good for show and not much else. Maybe Zabini would be better. At least he had talent, even if he was not one to blindly follow orders like Crabbe and Goyle.

But that was not the real problem. It was not what was really bothering him. It was the... thing... with the littlest Weasley. He had no idea what happened there. One minute he was prepared to wildly waltz her up and down the corridor to scare the hell out of her for daring to give him cheek; the next, he was simply dancing with her. Slowly. Looking into her wide brown eyes. He was slow dancing with a Weasley. He would not do that shit with Parkinson at the ball, no matter how much she begged him. And here he was doing it with a Weasley in the middle of a corridor where anybody could see them? Somebody had seen them, luckily Corner only thought he was tormenting her. Draco had no doubt that if he had realised the truth he would have wasted no time in getting it out. Protecting the littlest Weasley would take second place to having something to lord over Draco Malfoy. Heck, his reputation still had not recovered since Mad-Eye Moody turned him into a bloody ferret. No, he had to do something, fast, to regain his credibility and rightful standing within the school.

What about what happened with the littlest Weasley? a voice in the back of his mind asked. How had his intent to torment the girl end up in a dance of all things? It was a question he could not answer. Nor could he answer the other burning question in his mind: why had it affected him so much? There was no doubt it had affected him, no matter how much he tried to deny it. He felt it, the connection between them. He could not tear his eyes away from her brown ones, he could not help holding her to him as they swayed to the song he was singing. Not the song he meant to sing, but the song that sprang from his lips. Unbidden.

And unbidden, it sprang to his lips again. " 'And don't believe that magic can die. No, no, no, this magic can't die. So dance, your final dance. 'Cause this is, your final chance'."