32

Neville was trying not to look at Harry. The other boy had been fuming for weeks now, ever since he returned from Hospital Wing in the middle of the night. The party in the common room had still been going, although it ended pretty quickly when Harry stormed in; he was an intimidating sight usually, with his torn clothes, messy hair and over-confidence. But add to that an angry glint in his eye and slightly bared teeth (which sent shivers down many backs- there was something scarily primal about it) and the Boy Who Lived was absolutely terrifying. And so everyone had scrammed, without asking why he was in such a state. The only one brave (or dumb) enough to ask had been Ron who had gotten a snarl and a glare for his trouble.

So now Neville was sitting awkwardly next to Harry in transfiguration (Ron, who usually held the seat, had moved forwards next to Hermione, still miffed about Harry's bad mood) and trying to avoid making eye contact. That seemed to work with most wild animals, after all, and it was the only plan Neville had.

He was concentrating so hard on not looking at Harry that he almost missed Professor McGonagall's announcement, and as he was not looking at Harry, he most certainly missed the look of triumph and glee that spread across the boy's face.

"Awesome," Harry whispered, before turning to Neville and willingly starting a conversation for the first time in weeks, "Who're you going to ask then?"

"Huh?" Neville replied intelligently.

"The Yule Ball? You know, the thing Minnie's been talking about all this time?"

"Oh, yeah. I don't know," Neville said, embarrassed, "I doubt anyone would want to go with me." There was a great scrape of chairs and everyone stood to leave, Harry and Neville quickly following suit. Harry tried to tell Neville that he was being stupid, but Professor McGonagall called his name.

"Mr Potter, a word." Sighing, Harry turned back to wade through the students to get to his professor's desk.

"Yes, Minnie?" He asked, grinning charmingly and looking all too much like James Potter for Minerva's liking.

"Potter, the champions and their partners will be opening the ball," she said coldly, knowing that any complaint about being called 'Minnie' would only lead to Harry losing house points. And she really wanted Gryffindor to win. "As such, I expect you to not only have a suitable partner, but I sincerely hope you will deign to dress appropriately." With this last she looked pointedly at the neck of his school robe, which was open just enough that Harry's 'Sex Pistols' tee shirt was clearly visible. Her gaze also went to his feet which were stuffed into grubby white converse.

"Minnie!" Harry exclaimed, slapping a hand over his heart, "You wound me!" Professor McGonagall tutted and levelled him with a cold stare.

"Go away, Mr Potter. Go far away."

"Yessir!" Harry saluted and legged it from the classroom before he could lose house points. He really had been doing that far too often this year.

"Pansy, darling," Harry whispered huskily into the Slytherin girl's ear at dinner that night, "Can I have a word?" Pansy turned and raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow in a silent question. Harry simply smirked and began to walk away from her, out of the room. Sighing, she put her fork down and stood.

"I'll be back in a minute, boys," she said, making Malfoy glare and Blaise frown before she walked slowly out of the hall. It wouldn't do to seem too keen, after all.

Harry was waiting for her just down the hallway, leant against the wall with a cigarette in his hand and with his school robe open at the front to reveal sinfully tight jeans. When he saw her coming he pushed himself off the wall and moved towards her, stopping when they were inches apart, so close that she could smell the smoke on his breath.

"You and me," he started, confidence clear in his tone, "Are going to the Yule Ball together." Inside her head, Pansy grinned. He may be a Gryffindor, and he may be the Boy Who Lived, and her parents certainly wouldn't approve and this was about to cause a lot of trouble for her. But damn was he hot. On the outside, however, she kept her face in a blank mask and played it cool.

"Oh? Are you forgetting I have a boyfriend, Potter?"

"And has he asked you yet?" Harry asked. Pansy didn't react, but then again, Harry already knew the answer. "Of course he hasn't. Perhaps you should teach him a lesson, hmm?" He let his eyes linger on her lips before flicking back to her dark eyes. He could see his words playing in her mind, and knew that he had her.

"Fine, whatever," she finally agreed, "But you're buying me a new dress. The one I have will look terrible with your colouring, sweetie." Harry looked taken aback at this but recovered quickly, smirking that unnatural smirk.

"You know what, I think that might be a brilliant idea. Hogsmeade, this weekend. I'll meet you here at eleven." Harry leant in and gave her a quick peck on her lips before turning and heading down the corridor towards the dungeons, leaving a breathless and confused Pansy in his wake.

"You fucking did WHAT?" Sirius yelled through the mirror, "Jeez, pup, what is it with you and Death Eater children? If I had any sense I might start worrying." Harry chuckled and took another drag on his cigarette. He was sat at the top of the Astronomy tower with the mirror propped up on his knee.

"Don't worry. She's pretty and all, but really I just want to piss Malfoy off. And stealing his girlfriend is probably the best way to do that."

"Huh," Sirius frowned, "You might want to not tell Moony about that. He's a bit funny about having morals and stuff." A tiny crease appeared on Harry's forehead. He knew that before this year he would never have dreamt of using Pansy like this, but now... He had to get back at Malfoy somehow, after all. Get back at him for making him feel this way and then just... then just being Malfoy. Shaking his head slightly, he banished the thoughts from his mind. It was done now, after all, and there was no going back.

"Anyway," Sirius carried on, "How's the Occlumency going?" Harry grinned, thinking back to earlier in the evening and his lesson with Snape. Having mastered the basics, Harry was now being taught to project false memories to the intruder. He was having great fun making up fake images of Snape and Sirius kissing and showing them to his Professor. Of course, he mixed it up every so often and had Snape kissing McGonagall or Dumbledore. But mostly, it was Sirius, partly because it created the best reaction and partly because he was looking forward to the next time the two of them met. He just knew that Snape wouldn't be able to stop himself from thinking about it.

"Just brilliant, Pads, fucking brilliant," he grinned, flicking his cigarette over the edge of the tower.

"Good. And the Animagus training?" His godfather smirked, knowing full well that Harry would have told him straight away if any progress had been made in that area. Harry scowled playfully.

"You know I can't do it, mate. It just doesn't bloody work. I might just give up. It's not like the 'power he knows not' is gonna be that I can turn into a frog or something, is it?"

"To be honest, pup, I'm not sure what good a frog would be against a wizard," Sirius quipped before going into a lecture about exactly what Harry had to do to successfully become an Animagus. Harry groaned and tuned out, he had heard this again and again, but it made no difference. He just wasn't born to be an animagus.

"You've been staring at me all night, Ronald, do you want some help with homework or something?" Hermione snapped, pushing her bushy curls behind her ears. She'd been in a bad mood all day. First there was the announcement about the Yule Ball, which had sent every single girl apart from her into a giggly gossiping frenzy, which annoyed Hermione no end. Then, when she had tried to find peace in the library, Viktor Krum just had to turn up and bring his fan-group with him. Frustrated, she had retreated to the common room only for Ron to stare at her all evening.

"No," Ron said defensively, turning a bright red, "I, uh, just wanted to, um, know if you had a, um, a date to the ball yet?" Hermione blinked in shock, her brain working overtime. Did he just-uh- oh. She realised quickly that she had hesitated too long when Ron started speaking again in a nervous, too-fast kind of way.

"I mean, of course you do, I'm being stupid, you and Harry are probably-"

"No, Ronald, I don't," Hermione interrupted him with a smile, "And yes, Ronald, I will." And without further ado they both went back to their homework, secret smiles on their faces.