Three Lions and a Snake (H/D, PG)
Title: Three Lions and a Snake
Author:
sesheta_66
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Ron, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Hermione, a touch of Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2561
Warnings: No beta. Feel free to point out any mistakes. Also, slight pre-slash - if you don’t like, please don’t read.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters contained herein are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling and her publishers. “American Idol” is a registered trademark of 19 TV Ltd. and FremantleMedia North America, Inc. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Philippe Marchand, a muggle-born wizard who had been on a cruise with his parents as a child, had decided at a young age that he wanted to work on a cruise ship. Then, after discovering he was a wizard, he was determined to incorporate his love of cruising into the wizarding world. Of course, he soon discovered that it was too expensive to dedicate an entire ship to the cause (since many wizards were wary of cruising). However, he was able to secure a high enough position with one cruise line that he could arrange to dedicate certain activities and certain portions of the ship to wizards and witches, without the muggles realizing. Then he set about advertising his dream to the wizarding world.
It was months after Voldemort's demise when Hogwarts had re-opened its doors, leaving all the students behind by one year in their studies. In the aftermath of war, Headmistress McGonagall had decided to follow through with Dumbledore's dream that all the houses should work together. Her first step was to establish the inter-house social committee.
Dean Thomas had seen an ad in the Daily Prophet and had raised the idea with the committee. To celebrate their graduation, the seventh years at Hogwarts had decided to go on a cruise to the Caribbean. Not everyone was going, but those that opted out numbered less than ten. It promised to be a very interesting week.
In preparation for a week in the muggle world, muggle-born students helped "train" the purebloods in muggle ways - things that were practical and useful, not like the rubbish they taught in Muggle Studies. By the time the training was done, even Harry and Hermione had to admit that most of the purebloods would be fine. Well, presuming they didn't decide to use magic once they got there.
***
When the group of witches and wizards arrived at the port, they were greeted by Philippe Marchand, and were promptly whisked off for an orientation session, where they were informed of the wizard-only areas of the ship (warded so as not to be detected by muggles, monitored and maintained by wizards). Wands were to be concealed, and no magic was allowed in other areas of the ship. They followed the general rules, such as attending the muster drill (all passengers had to report to their "muster station" where their assigned life raft was located) for a safety and evacuation overview. Most attended the captain's welcoming cocktail party in the afternoon, and the information session about the activities that would take place on board and on shore for the week. The week included two days at sea, and four ports of call.
There were excursions open to wizards and muggles, including sailing, snorkelling, scuba diving (Ron looked horrified at the mere thought, until Harry reminded him of the Triwizard Tournament, and explained to him how an aqualung works). Then there were the wizard-based excursions, which went into the magic settlements in each port of call. On the last full day, their schedule included a stop in the current location for the Wizarding Idol auditions. It was open to any witch or wizard who applied. A box was set up on Marchand's office door to collect entries, and each morning they would be sent by owl post, so the facilitators could fit everyone into their schedule ahead of time. They had until the second-last day to enter.
After the information sessions, they were all set to party. They left with some ideas of what to do with their week - Harry even thought it would be fun to watch a little bit of the Wizarding Idol trials - and a desire to have a few drinks to celebrate their graduation, and this week-long vacation.
***
"Oh my head!" Ron growled.
"Here y'go mate," laughed Seamus. "Strongest hangover potion available. Sure to have you right as rain in no time."
"Thanks," Ron grumbled. But before he could take it, his stomach gave a lurch and he ran to the washroom.
"Lightweight," teased Dean.
Just then, another inaudible groan came from Harry's bed.
"Y'know, you lot are lucky I come well prepared," he laughed as he handed Harry a dose of the same potion. Harry, a bit luckier than Ron, managed to down it before his body had the chance to protest.
Ron came out of the bathroom, having just taken the potion. "Seamus, you're the best mate a guy could have.” He slapping his would-be saviour on the back after his head stopped throbbing and his stomach was right as rain, as Seamus had put it. "Now let's see what they serve for breakfast around here!"
The four now-recovered young wizards (Dean and Seamus had taken their potion earlier) made their way down to the cafe, having opted for buffet-style breakfasts and lunches, to make the most of their days. As they approached a pained looking Neville, Ron nudged Seamus. "Looks like your services are required again."
"No rest for the wicked, then," he replied jovially, handing over another vial of potion to a very relieved Neville.
About fifteen minutes into their meal, Malfoy, walking right up to them, announced his arrival. "Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Gryffindor boy band of Hogwarts! I do hope you don't trill like a bunch of trolls later in the week, though. After all, we do have our own reputations to think of."
"What are you on about Malfoy?" snapped Ron.
"Forgive me, Weaselby. Was trill too fancy a word for you? Let me put it in terms you prats will understand. Since you insisted on signing up for that ridiculous show, you'd best not make arses of yourselves." He looked pointedly at Neville, Harry and Ron. "The three of you sounded truly horrific last night. The mere fact that we are from the same school means that, painful as this may be to admit, you represent Hogwarts. So don't mess it up." He left without another word, a stunned and speechless Ron, Harry and Neville staring after him.
"What did he say?" Neville asked warily.
"It's Malfoy. He's just rattling our cages, Nev."
A low rumble of laughter came from Dean's throat. "'Fraid not, my fellow Gryffindors. The three of you, after consuming a large quantity of firewhiskey, entered your names for the Wizarding Idol competition.
"No," Neville whimpered.
"But ... but I can't sing!" wailed Harry.
"That, mate," Seamus howled, "was quite obvious last night."
"Well, we just won't go," reasoned Ron. "We either don't show up, or we simply withdraw our names."
"That won't work!" came Hermione's all-knowing voice. Harry really hated when she snuck up on them like that.
"Oh, wise witch, do tell," teased Ron. Harry, a familiar feeling of unease settling over him, thought he had a pretty good idea of what she meant.
"You formed a binding magical agreement when you entered your names," she explained.
"Just like the Goblet of Fire," mumbled Harry.
"Cheer up, mate! at least you don't have to get past a dragon this time."
"You've heard me sing, Seamus. I think I'd rather face a dragon."
It was Hermione's turn to laugh. "Well, perhaps now you three won't be such good friends with the bartender for the rest of the trip," and walked off, giggling madly.
"Is it too early to see our bartender friend now?" Ron asked glumly.
"Aw, it won't be that bad," Dean said. "Besides, at least they let you do group auditions. This way, it's all three of you together making prats out of yourselves."
"Well, when you put it that way, you make it sound so much more appealing," Neville bit back.
"Glad to be of help," Dean replied, giving him a friendly slap on the back.
"Y'know, you prats should tell Malfoy to put his money where his mouth is, so to speak. I hear he can actually sing,” Seamus offered. “You should see if he would join you, so you don't embarrass the school."
Ron choked on his juice at that. "Yeah, we'll sing back-up for the Prince of Slytherin. Not in this lifetime, thanks."
Harry got up abruptly and excused himself.
"You don't think -- " Ron started.
"He wouldn't," squeaked Neville.
"Yes, I do think, Ron. And he's Harry - of course he would, Neville," stated Dean matter-of-factly.
"Great. Just great," grumbled Ron, as he let his head fall down onto the table.
***
"Oi! Malfoy!" called Harry.
"What now Potter?" he drawled.
"It ... er ... "
"Yes, Potter?"
"Well, you ... I mean we ... "
"Spit it out already. I, unlike you, plan to make the most of this trip, and listening to you babble incoherently doesn't exactly fit into my itinerary."
"What? Oh, never mind."
"Potter, really. You sought me out for some reason. Since I, unlike you, did not get ridiculously inebriated last night and make an arse of myself, I presume you aren't here to taunt me. So, what did you want?"
Harry took a deep, calming breath. He hadn't really thought this through before racing off to find the blonde prat. "Yes, well, about that. You see, none of us remember last night -- "
"There's a shock. Continue."
"It seems that we can't get out of it now."
"You will eventually tell me something I don't already know, and get to the point, right? Today preferably."
"Well, it's like you said. We represent the school, so if we look like prats -- " He saw Malfoy's raised eyebrow at that comment. "If we look bad, the school looks bad. So we thought ... "
"Yes?"
"Well, Seamus says you can sing."
"Yes, I can," he began before his eyes went wide. "Oh no. Not a chance in hell, Potter. I will not go on stage with you lot of galling Gryffindors to save you from your well-deserved fate."
"But -- "
"But what, Potter? What insane voice inside that puny brain of yours suggested to you that I would ever help you?"
"You helped during the war," Harry answered feebly.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, you idiot! I did what I had to do to save my own skin! Remember me? Slytherin. Not Gryffindor. There's nothing in it for me."
"What if I make it worth your while?" The words were out of his mouth before he even considered what they might mean.
"What did you have in mind?" Malfoy asked, a dangerous sparkle in his eyes.
"Whatever. You decide. I figure it can't be any worse than making a complete idiot of myself in front of the whole wizarding world. Or facing Voldemort, for that matter."
"I have your word? Whatever I decide?"
Harry, suddenly hesitant, looked up at Malfoy. "As long as it doesn't involve anything illegal, or causing harm to anyone else ... " He thought for a moment. " ... and doesn't leave me broke or indebted to you for the rest of my life, you have my word."
"Okay. How about this? Whatever it is will be one time, to be collected before the end of the trip. It won't involve anyone else - just us. And, I'm rich enough not to need your money, Potter. Honestly!"
"So we have a deal?"
"Deal."
***
The four of them were able to rehearse several times before they reached the last port. As they arrived at their destination, Malfoy handed them ghastly outfits which looked very much like what the older muggle men were wearing on board. The bright colours of their shirts clashed spectacularly with Ron's hair, and Neville's shirt was a bit snug in some spots. Harry's, just as bright as the others', seemed to suit him, though. In fact, Hermione made a point of saying how it brought out the colour in his eyes. That earned her a glare from Ron.
As their number was called, Harry found himself inexplicably calm. He grabbed Malfoy's arm and turned him around to face him. "Thanks for this, Malfoy. Really."
"Oh, Harry ... don't for one moment think I did this out of the goodness of my heart. I am, after all, a Slytherin through and through. I plan to collect."
"Does that mean you've decided what you want?"
"Oh, yes," he smiled at Harry. "But relax. It won't kill you." With that, he turned around and they made their way into the waiting room. From there, they were able to watch the end of the performance of "Who Let the Dogs Out" by another group from their ship.
"They weren't bad," said Neville.
"But we're better," Ron said, and Harry saw Malfoy smile. Hmm, he really didn't look so bad without a constant scowl on his face.
All in all, it went fairly well. As they entered, Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows as she saw the three Gryffindors paired up with a Slytherin. And not just any Slytherin, but Draco Malfoy. Harry could practically hear the wheels spinning in her head as she tried to process that information. Before she could do more than give him a quizzical look, however, the music started. Thankfully they had practiced dancing as well as singing. Otherwise, gyrating their hips to the tune of "Feelin' Hot Hot Hot" could have been much more embarrassing than it was. Draco, it turned out, was an excellent singer, and the three Gryffindors happily took the back seat. As the song progressed, Harry noticed quite a few swooning girls looking on and dancing from their places in the audience. This, more than anything, caused him to relax, and really get into it. By the time the song was over, he had almost forgotten where they were, and that they weren't just at a party. They received a standing ovation from the spectators. Well, maybe not a standing ovation, per se, since many were already standing since they were dancing along to their song. But good enough.
As they waited for the clapping to settle down, Malfoy walked up to Harry. "I'm ready to collect now."
Harry looked at him, wondering just what he had agreed to. "Now?" he asked.
"Right now."
"Alright. What is it? What do you want?"
Draco leaned over and whispered in Harry's ear. "A kiss."
Sure that he hadn't heard correctly, Harry gave Malfoy a strange look. "What was that?"
"A kiss, Harry. Right here, right now, I want you to kiss me." Right then. He had heard correctly. Strange enough, Harry thought, the idea of kissing Malfoy didn't bother him as much as he thought it probably should.
"But I thought we agreed that whatever it was wouldn’t cause anyone harm," Harry said. Draco's face fell at those words, and Harry was quick to add, "this is going to kill Ron," and they both smiled at that. "Well, a deal is a deal," he offered, and without further hesitation, he grabbed Malfoy by the shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss. As the blonde's body froze, Harry was struck by the thought that maybe he was really that bad a kisser. But when he felt Draco's lips part beneath his, doubts were set aside, and they deepened the kiss, wrapping their arms around each other.
Somewhere in the background, Harry could hear something about "moving on to the next round," but right now nothing mattered to him except this kiss.
A/N: Try as I might, the H/D ship managed to squeeze in ... but just a little!