The Slytherin common room had been transformed into a high-end nightclub, full of spinning shadows and dappled lighting. Partiers danced to the pounding music on little floating platforms or in a cleared space ringed with strings of lights. Multicolored coils of steam swirled up from small cauldrons. This was nothing like the Slug Club's gracious, candlelit setting with its roses and floating orchestra. The common room's large window to the Black Lake cast an eerie glow, with merpeople undulating on the other side of the glass.
Hermione's pulse responded to the beat of the music, her breath quickened, and her gaze swept the dungeon for a familiar flash of platinum hair. Draco was nowhere in sight, but there was Blaise, holding a square bottle of sirenscotch. His black suit was practically a tuxedo, silk lapels framing a white shirt and black tie.
"Welcome," Blaise said, white teeth flashing. His dark eyes lingered on Ginny long enough to make Harry stiffen, but Ginny ignored them both, her attention drawn by the merpeople. Blaise tried a new tack.
"Hermione," he said. "You are quite the temptress tonight."
"You just like the color," Hermione said, smiling up at him.
"I like all of it." Blaise handed the sirenscotch to Harry, not taking his eyes off Hermione. Harry bobbled the bottle and nearly dropped it, glaring at Blaise. Ginny just looked amused.
"Dance with me, Hermione, please," Blaise said, and Hermione allowed herself to be led away. Blaise had, after all, been a good friend to Draco since Narcissa's arrest.
"Strange time for a party," she said to Blaise, trying not to blush. This wasn't waltzing in the Potions dungeon. Blaise's hands were on her hips and he ground slightly to the music. Hermione did her best to follow along without becoming too embarrassed. She cleared her throat and focused on Blaise's silver, snake-shaped tie pin. "There's little to celebrate these days."
"I know, but Pansy insisted," Blaise said. "She and Astoria said it would cheer everyone up."
"Things must be bad if Astoria is cheering people up."
Blaise lowered his head to whisper in her ear. "I love that sharp tongue of yours."
Hermione snickered at his suggestive tone. In some ways, Blaise was a wind-up doll like Astoria. She looked around Blaise's shoulder at her friends: Neville was handing out glasses; Harry was pouring the drinks and doing a bad job of it, since he was glaring over at Blaise at the same time. He spilled sirenscotch on Lavender's dress, causing her to squeak in outrage, and Ginny rolled her eyes and pulled the bottle from Harry's grasp.
"Are you going to ask me about Draco?" Blaise breathed in her ear, hands traveling up her ribs.
"No," Hermione said, pulling away. "Are you going to feel me up?"
Blaise smiled. "Don't tempt me."
"Apparently, I already have," she said tartly. "Find another way to irritate Harry."
"Oh, but this is so effective." Blaise looked disappointed, but he did withdraw one of his hands, taking hers instead and placing the other hand on Hermione's exposed back. His touch still felt rather suggestive, what with that sinful music playing, but definitely an improvement.
"I'm sure Draco will turn up," Blaise said with a smile. "He'd hate to miss you tonight."
Hermione could see Pansy now, resplendent in a draped silver dress cut low in the front and back. Neville's hand was trailing up the witch's bare spine in a way that made Hermione almost blush. Honestly, Neville was her friend.
Her gaze then landed on Astoria, who wore an off-the-shoulder white lace dress. The blonde's throat was pointedly bare of any jewelry. Astoria met Hermione's eye and the Slytherin gave a short nod, which was all the thanks Hermione was likely to get. No matter, keeping any witch out of Lucius' control was thanks enough.
Blaise gracefully spun her, still keeping a reasonable space between them. Hermione gave him a grateful smile, then looked over the room again. Another pair of dark eyes caught Hermione's—a Slytherin wizard she didn't know, likely a Seventh Year. He eyed her boldly with an arrogant sneer. Lovely, some pureblood muggle-hater with his knickers in a twist.
The music faded, and Blaise released her with a kiss on the hand and a leer just for Harry, who was pushing his way over with a frown.
"Damn it, Hermione," Harry began, "his hands were all over ..."
"Oh hush, Harry," she said, finishing her drink. "Blaise was just trying to annoy you." She plucked two champagne flutes from a floating tray and handed one to her friend. "Relax, have some fun. It's a party."
Harry sipped his champagne with a reluctant grin, his coat sleeve falling back to reveal tiny snitch cufflinks. He really did look sharp tonight. "Are you going to boss everyone into having fun?" he teased.
"Only if they need it." The icy champagne was cool in her veins after the scotch. "Come on, let's dance."
She and Harry probably looked silly, doing their typical clumsy swaying in this intoxicating setting. The magical phonograph in the corner was belting out a deep bass beat that was quite provocative, but Hermione and Harry were too busy giggling at a clearly drunk Slytherin stumbling after the Patil twins. Harry's laughter trailed off, however, when he saw Ginny and Seamus join the dancers.
"Harry," Hermione said. He looked back at her. "Have you and Ginny spoken since ..."
"No, not really." Harry sighed. "But she was right about Chloe."
Hermione said nothing, just swayed in her friend's arms, trying not to look at the couple behind Harry. The wizard was pulling at his dance partner's clothes with his teeth. "Give it to me, give it to me, give it all ..." the phonograph crooned.
Harry was still sighing, obviously not in tune with his surroundings. "I was all stern and honorable with Chloe, too," he admitted. "Merlin, Hermione, it's true. I'm like Percy with women."
"Did you lecture her about cauldron bottoms?"
"No." Harry grimaced. "But I did talk about wand protocol. And not in a fun way."
Hermione giggled. Harry carefully drew a stray curl out of her face, avoiding the Gloriana pins.
"Chloe didn't go back to France for a title," he continued. "That Duke Truffle Prick or whatever, she'd known him since childhood."
Harry glanced over at Ginny. "I have no idea how to behave now. Everything I do just pushes Gin away."
"A fresh start," Hermione said.
"What?"
"A fresh start," she repeated. "No expectations. No adoring little sister. No Boy-Who-Lived. You're Harry. She's Ginevra."
Harry was frowning. "I suppose you know all about fresh starts, with Malfoy."
"Quite the opposite," Hermione said.
"The two of you are terrifying, really," Harry said. "I've been following Malfoy around for over a week and he's exhausting. Thank Merlin his parents' trials are next week. Then I can go back to chasing dark wizards. It'll be like a vacation."
The music ended, or more accurately, began bleeding into the next shocking, almost moaning tune, and they stopped dancing. Again Harry looked over at Ginny, who was obviously teasing Neville about something salacious as Pansy smirked beside him. Over by the phonograph, that dark-eyed pureblood creep was still staring.
"A fresh start," Harry said, looking thoughtful.
"Yes," Hermione said.
"Alright." Harry picked up two champagne flutes and walked over to Ginny, looking lighter than he had in a long time. He wasn't wearing his auror robes but he walked with that confidence. Hermione smiled and stepped over to a platter of chocolate-dipped strawberries.
"Well, well, well. Hermione Graaaaanger," drawled an unfamiliar voice. She turned to see the arrogant Slytherin, now standing before her, those dark eyes narrowed as if she was invading his space. Her fingers twitched, wanting to touch the wand hidden in her dress. Every nerve ending was on alert.
"Isn't this an honor," the wizard continued. "Marcus Fixe." He pronounced the name as if she should know it.
She said nothing, just frowned at him, her wand hand pressed against her hip.
"I'm held to be quite charming, but surely I haven't struck you speechless," the young Slytherin said. He was attractive in a coiled sort of way, more in the way he stood and held his head, rather than his features or body, which were unremarkable.
"You were sneering at me, before," Hermione said coolly. "I'm guessing you don't want me here."
Fixe sniffed. "I'm surprised you'd let Zabini paw you so."
"You disapprove," Hermione said. "I'm devastated." She looked him up and down. "You need to work on your charm, Mr. Fixe." She turned and walked away, sensing rather than seeing Fixe's eyes on her. Creepy.
Anxious to escape Fixe, she walked straight into a wizard in a grey suit. "Oh, excuse me—Ernie!"
Ernie looked down at her, his mouth open. "Hermione ... you look so ... so glamorous." His face was as red as his ears.
"Come, dance with me," Hermione said. Fixe was still lurking by the strawberries. "There are some seriously weird wizards here tonight."
Ernie complied, but the music had switched to a low, throbbing beat that neither of them knew what to do with. Conventional dancing simply wouldn't do, and with a sigh Hermione instructed Ernie to put both hands around her waist with her hands linked around his neck. They managed to find some sort of rhythm, and Hermione was doing fine until she looked over to see Ginny standing with Harry, their eyes wide. Ginny grinned and gave Hermione the thumbs-up and Hermione felt her face heat. Sweet Merlin, it would be all over the school now: Hermione Granger grinding with Ernie Macmillan—they were in an orgy, you know, in the storage room with half the student government ...
The very idea made her giggle, which cooled her embarrassment somewhat. Ernie appeared to be sniffing her hair or something and she was just about to warn him about Gloriana pins when the inappropriate song finally ended. She stepped backward from Ernie, who thanked her and walked quickly away.
"He's probably off to wank somewhere," said a familiar voice. "I think you broke him."
Hermione sighed and turned around. "Theo," she said. This was truly an annoying party.
"Having a good time?" Theo asked with a small smile. He looked much as he had at the Gryffindor party in a black suit with a green shirt and green-patterned tie. He extended a broad hand toward her, the silver band of his ring shining in the shifting lights. "Would you care to dance?"
"No, thank you," Hermione said and marched off the dance floor toward the refreshment table. Hopefully, she could find something non-alcoholic.
Theo followed. "So we are no longer friends," he said, "but certainly not enemies. Allies? I would categorize us as acquaintances again, but not friendly acquaintances."
"Schoolmates," Hermione said, rummaging among the bottles. "A perfectly fine word."
"So cold, though," Theo said. "Where's Draco tonight?"
"Don't ask me," she snapped, sniffing a clear liquid. No, definitely not water. "I'd be the last to know." She slammed down the small bottle and picked up another one.
"Please, let me help you," Theo said, taking the bottle out of her hand. "What would you like? Sirenscotch? Firewhiskey? There's some absinthe here as well."
"Water," Hermione said, "or juice. Something non-alcoholic."
"At a Slytherin party?" Theo asked. "A tall order." He rustled around the bottles. "I don't see any soda, but I believe ... yes. Sparkling cider. Who knew?"
Hermione sniffed suspiciously at the glass he handed her. It smelled alright. She took a cautious sip.
"Merlin, Hermione," Theo said, rolling his eyes. "I'm trying to earn your trust again. I'm not going to sneak you liquor you don't want."
"So you say," Hermione began, "but I—"
"Theee-oh!" Lavender was standing before them, her face flushed. She'd obviously had a fair amount of firewhiskey already; her cheeks were flushed and her blonde hair unraveling from its intricate twist.
"You ..." Lavender poked Theo in the chest. "You led me on! And ... and broke my heart!"
"I didn't!" Theo protested. "I told you—Draco was lying! Hermione, tell Brown here that Draco was lying about me!"
"He was baking," Hermione said, resigned to not making sense for the next ten minutes.
"That's another thing!" Lavender cried, full of drunken indignation. "Draco doesn't bake at all, Hermione! I asked him for some recipes and he looked at me like I was mad!"
"You are mad, Brown," Theo snapped. "Draco doesn't bake and I never led you on. Tell her, Hermione."
"You mustn't pat Draco on the head, Lavender," Hermione said, sipping her chilled cider.
Theo glared at Hermione. "This is a hell of a way to get back at me."
"Oh ... Theo ..." Lavender blubbered.
"Oh look, there's Ginny," Hermione said, anxious to party with someone who wasn't Slytherin, male, loony or all three.
"Don't leave me!" Theo pleaded. "Brown, get off me! Stop crying on my suit! Hermione!"
Hermione practically ran to Ginny, who received her with delight. Ginny insisted that the two of them dance to the current song, which was nearly as degenerate as the one she'd danced with Ernie. The other dancers strove to avoid the two crazy Gryffindor girls, which gave Hermione plenty of space to wave her arms wildly and Ginny to embark on a series of spins that nearly sent the redhead into the room's giant window. She certainly scared the merpeople outside half to death. Hermione took her friend's hands and dragged her back to the dance floor, passing a flock of pearl-clutching Slytherin girls. Hermione rolled her eyes: That Slytherin couple over there was practically acting out the pounding song (which featured an extremely bossy man telling his girl what he wanted right now), and they were offended by Ginny?
Harry was actually being human tonight, Ginny told Hermione during a lull in the music. The-Boy-Who-Lived had found some charm in that Voldemort-addled head of his and had stopped glaring at Blaise. Ginny then complimented Hermione on loosening Ernie up and said Lavinia Clarke and two other Harpies—former Slytherins—were at the party.
"They're very nice but they have this weird obsession with Draco," Ginny said. "They keep looking for him. He made quite an impression at the Inter-House Quidditch Match."
Hermione was shocked. "Even with the 'Die Mudbloods' spell and trial and all?"
Ginny shrugged. "It only makes him more attractive outside Hogwarts. Slytherin women are really strange."
Hermione could only agree. The men, too. She danced a second song with Ginny, relaxing enough to switch back to sirenscotch again. They were attracting a fair amount of attention, though—Slytherin women apparently didn't dance with each other. Blaise was prowling the perimeter and Pratt and Bloom (the former Slytherin Beaters) were watching open-mouthed. Hermione repressed the urge to go over and scold them like they were Squeaky Mice.
She soon regretted the sirenscotch because she found herself eyeing Theo, now dancing with Daphne Greengrass in a very tantalizing way. He had shed his coat and tie and freed the top few buttons on his green silk shirt. Theo caught her watching and winked, and Hermione turned her head away. Lavinia Clarke was talking to Neville, at least until Pansy arrived and drove off the Harpy with a single look.
After three songs, Hermione and Ginny withdrew to sofas near the fireplace with Neville, who now had Pansy on his lap. Harry joined them soon afterward, tie loosened and face flushed.
"You were dancing between the Patil twins," Ginny said to Harry mischievously.
"I may never be the same," Harry said, smiling back at her. "These Slytherin parties are something else."
Hermione had to agree. The whole scene was arousing: the music, the alcohol, the runaway hormones. Neville, beside her, was whispering to Pansy, who was giggling. Harry had shifted closer to Ginny, his smile making him look much like Theo. Ginny leaned back negligently on her side of the sofa, long legs crossed, champagne flute in one hand, quite at ease in this setting. She looked back at Harry with very Slytherin eyes.
I need air. Hermione slipped away from the fireplace, with an eye to leaving the common room for a time. Maybe she would leave the party altogether; her friends were obviously preoccupied and the evening suddenly felt flat, lifeless. Draco was likely in France again this weekend, with only Aimee for company, brooding over the trials ahead, and here she was ...
"Leaving already?" It was Fixe again. "Don't tell me one little Slytherin party is too much for Hermione Granger."
Hermione turned to face him. Fixe's round face and black curls made him look ridiculously young despite an exquisitely tailored black suit. The hand holding his drink sported a fat emerald ring that matched his tie.
"Why do you keep saying my name like that?" she asked him peevishly.
"Like how?" Fixe sipped his sirenscotch on ice, his dark eyes never leaving hers.
"Like it's a grand title to sneer at."
"It is a grand title, but I wasn't sneering," Fixe said.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Nice try. You obviously sneer at everything. A less than charming Slytherin trait."
"It's the drawl." Fixe shifted between her and the portrait hole. "We can't help it."
She glared up at him. "Yes, yes, I'm Hermione Granger. I'm a crazy drunkard who lets men paw her while dancing. Now that I've dashed all your hopes and expectations, may I leave now?"
Fixe arched an eyebrow. "Interesting. Does this mean you might let me paw you as we dance?"
Hermione huffed and looked out at the party, ignoring Fixe. Theo, she noted, had been cornered by Lavender once more. The blonde Gryffindor was chattering anxiously, petting the poor man's arm after spilling her drink on him.
Fixe followed her gaze. "Nott has his hands full there. Odd girl. Merlin only knows what she's saying."
"Oh, Theo, please forgive me," Hermione squeaked. "Here, I'll lick the sirenscotch off your sleeve!"
"Fine, but watch the cufflinks, dearie," Fixe said in an absurdly deep voice.
"On the other hand, let me use this napkin, Theo. I'll dab it all over you in a very suggestive way."
"And I'll squeal like a little girl and spill my own drink."
"Oh, Theo, you're so handsome when you look murderous!" Hermione breathed. "Where are you going? Please threaten me again, it's just foreplay, right? Theo!"
Hermione dissolved into giggles, she couldn't help it, and Fixe laughed outright, looking even more boyish now. Theo had made his escape, but at a cost—he'd knocked over two tables and his wrinkled shirt now had a spreading dark stain. Other Slytherins snickered as Theo disappeared down the stairs to the boys' dormitories.
The fracas had caught the attention of Harry, who had his arm along the back of the sofa he shared with Ginny. Lavender was sobbing into her rejected napkin, but the Patil twins were quick to comfort her. Harry turned back to Ginny, who evidently said something shocking, given the look on Neville's and even Pansy's face. But Harry just gave Ginny a lazy smile that Hermione had never seen before.
"You look rather smug," Fixe said. Hermione started—she'd forgotten he was there.
"I like seeing my friends happy," she said.
Fixe set down his glass and shed his suitcoat, handing it to a passing Slytherin boy without looking. "We are dancing now," he announced, taking Hermione's hand and pulling her toward the mass of bodies. The other Slytherin stood glaring, still holding Fixe's coat.
"I am not dancing with you to this shocking song, Fixe," Hermione objected, "so just ..." Fixe ignored her entirely, just placed her in the center of the crowd and put her arms around his neck. His own arms slid around her and she could feel his warmth through his grey silk shirt.
"Fixe, I have a boyfriend and ..."
"He won't mind," he murmured.
"He certainly will mind, you have no idea ..." Hermione tried to back away, but the crowd pressed too close, and the music and alcohol were working against her. At least Fixe kept his hands at her waist.
"This is no more than you did with our Head Boy," Fixe said, sounding a bit irritated.
Well, yes, but Fixe was not Ernie. The Slytherin's smooth palm on her bare arm gave her goosebumps. Another hand lay gently on her waist, and Hermione took advantage of Fixe's light touch to spin out of his grasp, putting another dancing couple between them.
Fixe followed, looking determined, and Hermione dodged behind a different writhing couple, continuing to dance with her arms over her head. She circled Lavender and the Patil twins, who were dancing in a cluster, then stepped in front of a lumbering Gregory Goyle. The former Malfoy henchman's eyes bugged out when he realized whom he was suddenly dancing with, and Hermione gave Goyle a bright smile as they briefly swayed together, then she twirled away again.
She'd lost sight of Fixe, though, and paused uncertainly on one foot. A hand wearing a square-cut emerald ring captured hers from behind and spun her around.
"Found you," Fixe growled. "You're a terrible flirt ... Miss Granger." A shiver ran down Hermione's spine at the way he said her name.
"Wild for hold," Hermione said before she thought.
Fixe blinked, startled, then placed an arm on her bare back, retaining her other hand. "Better?" he asked, starting up a modified waltz. "Or will you run away again?"
Hermione flushed but refused to answer, and they danced in silence, with Fixe keeping an appropriate distance this time as Blaise had.
"Having fun tonight?" the Slytherin asked with careful courtesy.
"I was," she said significantly. Fixe just smiled, releasing her hand to brush a curl from her face.
Hermione flinched. "Careful," she said, thinking of her hairpins.
"It's just a curl," Fixe said, twining the strand in his finger. "Just a beautiful, shining, twisted curl that refuses to be confined."
Hermione felt her face heat. Slytherins. Next, Rupert Pratt would sidle up to her and murmur about choking in velvet tones. She yanked her hair out of Fixe's grasp, glaring, and could only be grateful when she heard Neville's voice.
"Is this bloke bothering you, Hermione?" her friend asked. Fixe immediately backed away, hands in the air. He winked at Hermione, ignoring Neville, and disappeared into the crowd.
"Who was that, Hermione?" Neville wanted to know.
"Marcus Fixe," Hermione said, frowning. "Just some Slytherin asshole ..." Her eyes widened. No.
"Hermione?" Neville asked.
She looked around frantically. "Where did he go?"
"Where did who go?" asked Pansy, stepping up. "What's with you, Granger?"
"I'm fine," Hermione said, craning her neck to look over the crowd. She left them and began weaving through the room.
Hermione circled the common room, dodging Theo, who was once more impeccable in a fresh shirt and tie, and Ernie, who'd obviously had more to drink and wanted another dance. She saw Astoria sway up to Theo and latch onto his arm. Theo looked like he'd rather have Lavender back again.
Huffing in irritation, Hermione stepped onto a floating platform and danced a bit mechanically while she surveyed the party below. People were pointing up at her, but she hardly noticed. There he was, leaning against a silver-papered wall with a glass in his hand again, in a pool of light, his face upturned toward her. Hermione lowered the platform and ruthlessly pushed into the mass of dancers, popping out in front of Fixe on the other side.
She stood there panting, knowing her dress was askew and her hair likely wild despite the diamonds. Fixe straightened, his round, boyish face showing no expression. Hermione shoved him against the wall and crashed her lips against his, kissing him roughly, then pulling away. Her eyes held his darker ones.
"Draco," she growled.