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English
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The Hex Files
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Published:
2006-01-28
Completed:
2006-12-05
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25,832
Chapters:
16/16
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2
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18
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Summary:

Snapshots of Harry and Draco's developing relationship, beginning with an impromptu lesson.

Notes:

Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at The Hex Files, which was closed for financial and health reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on The Hex Files collection profile.

Chapter 1: Dance Lesson

Chapter Text

A/N: This started as a response to hobbit_tabby's dare: Harry and someone (Draco or Snape, preferably) dance in the rain. It begins with only mild implications of slash, but will build and become more adult in content as the story progresses. And if anyone is curious, the title comes from the idea that I'm presenting a string of moments captured as the relationship develops. Oh, and one last thing: not HBP-compliant. I'll take a few details and items from book 6, but I have no desire whatsoever to see Draco wounded by spells Harry shouldn't be using, nor for him to have an ugly Mark on his wrist.

/long-winded babble


“We’re not that far from the castle gates. We can make it if we hurry.”

The words had no sooner left Draco’s mouth than the first fat drops of rain spattered onto Harry’s upturned glasses.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, if the pair of you had paid attention to the third-year students..." Hermione turned on her heel and headed back toward the village, muttering about Flooing from The Three Broomsticks to her quarters, which, as those of the new Head of Gryffindor House, had an off-site Floo connection.

“D’you think we should ask if she’ll let us use her hearth, too?”

“Nah, I still say we can make it before it gets too bad. Last one to the castle has to explain to Snape why the third-year Slytherins all have blue hair!”

With a grin over his shoulder, Draco tore off down the path. Harry goggled for a moment at the view of Malfoy actually running, in public, before his competitive drive (and desire to avoid Deputy Headmaster Snape) forced him into pursuit.

The light drizzle became a steady rainfall as he ran. In a hurry to catch up, Harry didn’t stop to wipe off his fogged glasses, so that when he came around the bend in the path where it opened for a view of the lake, he ran right into Draco, who stood transfixed by the panorama: high cliff, dark clouds and lake, Hogwarts castle’s welcoming lights.

“Oof!”

Draco’s arms came up to steady Harry, and he had to shift both of their weight to keep from falling to the muddy ground. Harry’s momentum, though, kept them spinning on the slippery turf in a parody of a waltz that had Draco smirking when they finally came to a stop.

“Will the Weaselette be jealous that you dance so gracefully with me, Potter? Or are you going to share a dance like that at the Yule Ball?”

“Don’t call her that,” Harry protested weakly. His heart wasn’t in it, though. He had his own troubles with Ginny – she’d been pursuing him relentlessly in the year since the War had ended. He’d hoped to avoid letting her know about the festivities, or that staff and apprentices, which Harry and Draco now were, were entitled to bring guests. Unfortunately, Hermione had invited Ron, who had let the Kneazle out of the bag, and now Ginny had somehow invited herself to the Ball as Harry’s date.

Harry hadn’t danced since the disastrous Yule Ball in his fourth year, and he hadn’t worried about it. He was fairly certain, though, that Ginny would be even be less forgiving of his disinterest in dancing than Parvati had been.

“I don’t suppose you know anyone who would be willing to give dancing lessons? When McGonagall taught the other Gryffindors, I was busy worrying about… other things. And since then, dancing hasn’t really been an issue.”

“It just so happens, Scarhead, that Malfoys, like all properly trained pure-bloods, learn to dance as early in life as we learn to fly. With proper incentive, I could be coaxed to teach you to dance. And if you ask very nicely, I might even let you lead.”

“Incentive, Mal-ferret?”

“To be named at a later date. A single, non-life-threatening favor.”

Harry hesitated. His friendship with Draco was relatively new and untried, having developed in the last year of the War and their first year as Hogwarts staff, and this could be a test. Hell, I'm a Gryffindor. Whatever Slytherin thing he's planning on asking for won't be anything I can't handle, he decided.

“Fine. I’ll owe you. When?”

“The lesson? Why not now?”

“Now? It’s raining. And we’re surely late for supper-”

“Now. Here. We are wizards – who cares about a little water?”

Facing Harry, Draco held up his hands. When Harry stepped closer, he rested one hand on his shoulder and firmly grasped the other.

“Hand on my waist, green-eyes. There’s fine. Okay, we’ll try something simple first. One, two, three, one, two, three…”

Harry’s brow wrinkled as he concentrated on stepping in the right direction, leading Draco without tangling their feet together. Eventually he relaxed into the steps, and Draco stopped counting, humming a simple tune instead. The two continued their waltz around the clearing, oblivious to the gently falling rain.

When Draco came to the end of his tune, he stopped humming. Without the guiding music, Harry stumbled to a halt. For a long moment, surprised green eyes remained fixed on silver-grey ones. A clap of thunder and flash of lightning in the distance interrupted the moment of silent communication, and the pair stepped back.

“That wasn’t as hard as I remember it being.” Harry tried to fill the awkward pause, to distract himself from a new, uncomfortable awareness.

“A Malfoy is always a superior dance partner. Of course it is easier to dance with me.” The friendly sneer that curled his lip nearly masked the other emotion in Draco’s eyes.

“I’m sure Ginny will appreciate your efforts on her behalf.” A weak smile accompanied this comment.

“Of course.” Draco turned away before continuing, “We’re late, Potter. If we hurry, we might make it to the castle before the end of dinner.”