Chapter Twelve: Two Left Feet and a Whole Stage to Show -Off…Never Seen on Broadway
Author: kansol_encore
Beta: dormiensa
A/N: Mad props to my team. Features a plethora of anachronistic[musical selections]
Black Eyed Peas-Boom Boom Pow, Peaches & Herb-Shake Your Groove Thang, Rage Against the Machine,
Ricky Martin- Living La Vida Loca, Cyndi Lauper- Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, N'Sync- It's Gonna Be Me, Destiny's Child- Bootylicious, Britney Spears- Oops!...I Did it Again
The volume of girlish squeals had not reached a decibel high enough to conceal Draco’s own peals of delight. Somewhere between going ‘down the line’ with flirtatious offers and Greek apologies, Draco had instigated an epic pas de deux with the ladies. The music, a fierce techno beat, staccato’d:
CUZ I GOT THAT BOOM BOOM POW, DEM LADIES JOCKING MY STYLE.
The lights once dim were subdued by a fog machine and simultaneously scattered into a dizzying array of colours, courtesy of a shiny disco ball. The drinks were poured freely. Not much was done to the tables, but they were clean and pushed against the wall. Because for one night only, which was all the ladies had asked for, The Three Broomsticks was transformed into a posh scene fit for shaking that groove thang.
Assembled by Malfoy, the professors done the Conga Line, the Macarena, the Bunny Hop, and half of the Cha Cha Slide. As Draco’s multiple non-sexual partners grew tired and pooped out, he became The Last Man Dancing.
“Hermione. I. Am. A. Robot.”
Hermione motioned the waiter for a non-virgin drink before reluctantly complying with his request. “Excellent mechanics.”
“The movements have to align with the music or a bloke will risk looking like a ponce-y idiot. See how my arm goes straight out on the down beat? And then how my opposite leg comes up?”
*****
“It must be all the smelling he’s doing. He’s gone completely mad. Completely, utterly, totally-” Hermione’s drunken rant was cut short by the entrance of an unwelcomed powder-noser.
“Are you quite through in there? That devilishly hot piece of-”
“I beg your pardon?” Hermione queried nearly ripping the door from its hinges.
“That tall, blond gentleman? He’ll be putting on a show for ladies’ night at a quarter of. I just wanted to powder my nose and freshen up.”
Hermione pushed passed the virgin woman. “Over my dead body.”
“So, I shouldn’t powder my nose?”
The steam whistling out of her ears prevented Hermione from hearing the question. She was livid with impressive vivacity and style. This outing was meant to find Draco’s sexually inexperienced bed-mate.
She was not meant to hurl her insides out and wear them as ghastly couture fashion.
She was not meant to watch Draco do every line-dance invented since 1963 and partner with the likes of Madame Hooch.
All of this was not meant to be.
She would rage against. . .The Machine.
*****
HER LIPS ARE DEVIL RED AND HER SKIN’S THE COLOR OF MOCHA. SHE’S LIVING LA VIDA LOCA.
*****
“Identification, ma’am.”
“What? This is absurd. I’m already inside the building.” Hermione pushed against the bouncer. In the time she had taken to raif, the sequestered hallway had been cordoned off, fitted with a door for screening ‘prying eyes’, and stationed with a lanky gatekeeper.
“Back of the line,” the bouncer demanded.
“There is no line!”
“Can I see some I.D.?” he asked once more, none too gently.
“Are you serious, Harry? I’m older than you. What are you doing here anyway?” Harry’s tough guy façade dropped. Males these days, they just didn’t understand that girls just wanna have fun, responsibly.
“Blimey, Hermione, I’m on special assignment. What are you doing in a place like this? Are you on the guest list? The women in there are quite saucy. Gin says hello, by the way.”
“Really, Harry? It’s The Three Broomsticks, and I have a roommate to, to…”
“All right, All right-hold your imperious unicorns.” Harry lifted up the red velvet rope. “It’s only because I have a sincere affection for you.”
“And I for you. Now, bugger off.”
*****
Inside, Hermione was greeted with proof-positive that virgins were no nearer to purity than Lav Lav herself. As Harry had attested, the women were categorically debauched with their tiaras and giggling and contact lenses. Strumpets to the nth degree! And where had all the extra women come from? The sight of the bachelorette party made Hermione’s blood boil. Then…the music came on:
YOU DON’T WANT TO LOSE IT AGAIN. BUT I’M NOT LIKE THEM. BABY WHEN YOU FINALLY GET TO LOVE SOMEONE. GUESS WHAT? IT’S GONNA ME.
Like a purple dinosaur borne aloft on billowing clouds held up by a baby Guatemalan Howler Monkey, Draco Malfoy sailed onto the stage in eccentric Jurassic splendour. It was the most beautiful sight of Hermione Jane Granger’s whole life, though she was sure the costume was the results of drunken transfiguration.
When he did a twirl, several ladies of weak constitution fainted. When he rawr-ed, the melodious sound caressed her soul. When he gyrated his hips, she felt her body grow flush with hot pangs of romantic longings. And when he beckoned the crowd with his long, yellow claws, all Hades broke loose in an indecorous display of possession and unladylike behaviour.
“He’s mine!”
“You must be joking. We’re fated!” shouted Irma Pince.
“You’re not his type. He said as much in third-year, you hag.”
“Who asked for your five pound, minus three quid, £1,50 in fifty-pence, nine ten-pences, £0,30 five-pence, and three one cent pences? That’s £0,02 if you’re daft in the head.”
“Did it take you all day to figure those sums, McGonagall?” Hooch taunted.
Draco, undeterred, continued dancing upon the stage. He was heedless to the extent of the uproar he was causing with his lustrous virgin body. Although he wasn’t as young as he used to be and had the shape of a three-month pregnant woman, he still had all the moves like Jagger and the showmanship to carry on with the performance.
“Say it to my face!”
“I proclaimed it. I prophesied it. Thereby, he is rightfully mine. He belongs to me.” bellowed Madame Centis as Trewlaney shimmered in and out of focus.
“Shameful Cougars! The lot of you.”
I DON’T THINK YOU’RE READY FOR THIS JELLY. I DON’T THINK YOU’RE READY FOR THIS JELLY. I DON’T THINK YOU’RE READY FOR THIS. MY BODY’S TOO BOOTYLICIOUS FOR YOU BABY
Hermione stood stock-still as her eyes deceived her for the second time that evening. Surely, the vision that was ‘Draco the Neanderthal’ had to be a chimera if she was witnessing her old professors on the cusp of a fracas? These were honorable women, renowned in their respective fields, but here they were, fighting over a man as if he were chattel. It couldn’t be so.
Big, round tears trickled from her eyes. “I knew it. It’s just too good to be true. Purple dinosaur people! As though my deepest, darkest desire could be realized! Life is cruel.” Settling on her hands and knees, Hermione crawled over to the stage, out of the crossfire. This environment was completely unfit for a man with child. She would push aside her intoxication and rescue him.
Woe is me.
She flung a mild curse at an unstable witch blocking her path.
“Always a room-mate and never a Veela-mate,” she mumbled in her drunken haste.
Crawling the distance to him, she hoisted herself up onto the makeshift platform as Draco danced on a tier above her. Filthy with grime and grit, she begrudged having to pure being with sullied hands. Meanwhile, Draco was busy shaking his booty in sensual circles. From the look of his dashing smirk and the way the sweat tickled down his throat, he was having a grand ol’ time.
She wanted to be dazzled but fought to remain focus. “Psst! Draco!”
“Not now, Granger. I’m busy.” He did an eight-count move.
“No, Draco, it’s got to be this instant!”
“Well if you insist. Wait for the refrain.”
“Fine!” Crossing her arms, Hermione tapped her toes to the music as she waited. Her shoulders did a little bounce and her hips a slight dip.
“All right. What is it?”
“No! This is my part.” She swayed to the beat.
“Are you serious?! Do you know the counts I had to do to execute a premature ending? It’s bloody difficult, Hermione. Bloody difficult.”
“Well, you’re awfully cranky,” Hermione said while two-stepping. “We have to go. Everyone’s completely at their wits’ end. Look around you.”
Draco looked about at the chaos. Enthusiastically, Hermione swayed with her body.
“Ready to go then, Draco?”
“I was certainly looking forward to the next two tracks. It’s a pity ladies can’t control themselves around me.”
“Take my hand and I’ll Apparate us some place safe. We haven’t time to reach the Floo.”
“Not good, Hermione,” he chided as he reached for her, ready for a magnificent escape. “By the way, I’ve got something very important to share with you.”
Could it be? She played it cool. “Then, I look forward to hearing it.”
*****
“CIRCE’S HOLY BEARD. She’s kidnapping him!”
OOPS!... I DID IT AGAIN. I PLAYED WITH YOUR HEART. GOT LOST IN THE GAME. OH BABY BABY OOPS!
And before the crowd of frenzied ladies could converge on the duo, in burst Charlie the Unicorn.
Continue or ToC
Beta: dormiensa
A/N: Mad props to my team. Features a plethora of anachronistic[musical selections]
Black Eyed Peas-Boom Boom Pow, Peaches & Herb-Shake Your Groove Thang, Rage Against the Machine,
Ricky Martin- Living La Vida Loca, Cyndi Lauper- Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, N'Sync- It's Gonna Be Me, Destiny's Child- Bootylicious, Britney Spears- Oops!...I Did it Again
The volume of girlish squeals had not reached a decibel high enough to conceal Draco’s own peals of delight. Somewhere between going ‘down the line’ with flirtatious offers and Greek apologies, Draco had instigated an epic pas de deux with the ladies. The music, a fierce techno beat, staccato’d:
CUZ I GOT THAT BOOM BOOM POW, DEM LADIES JOCKING MY STYLE.
The lights once dim were subdued by a fog machine and simultaneously scattered into a dizzying array of colours, courtesy of a shiny disco ball. The drinks were poured freely. Not much was done to the tables, but they were clean and pushed against the wall. Because for one night only, which was all the ladies had asked for, The Three Broomsticks was transformed into a posh scene fit for shaking that groove thang.
Assembled by Malfoy, the professors done the Conga Line, the Macarena, the Bunny Hop, and half of the Cha Cha Slide. As Draco’s multiple non-sexual partners grew tired and pooped out, he became The Last Man Dancing.
“Hermione. I. Am. A. Robot.”
Hermione motioned the waiter for a non-virgin drink before reluctantly complying with his request. “Excellent mechanics.”
“The movements have to align with the music or a bloke will risk looking like a ponce-y idiot. See how my arm goes straight out on the down beat? And then how my opposite leg comes up?”
*****
“It must be all the smelling he’s doing. He’s gone completely mad. Completely, utterly, totally-” Hermione’s drunken rant was cut short by the entrance of an unwelcomed powder-noser.
“Are you quite through in there? That devilishly hot piece of-”
“I beg your pardon?” Hermione queried nearly ripping the door from its hinges.
“That tall, blond gentleman? He’ll be putting on a show for ladies’ night at a quarter of. I just wanted to powder my nose and freshen up.”
Hermione pushed passed the virgin woman. “Over my dead body.”
“So, I shouldn’t powder my nose?”
The steam whistling out of her ears prevented Hermione from hearing the question. She was livid with impressive vivacity and style. This outing was meant to find Draco’s sexually inexperienced bed-mate.
She was not meant to hurl her insides out and wear them as ghastly couture fashion.
She was not meant to watch Draco do every line-dance invented since 1963 and partner with the likes of Madame Hooch.
All of this was not meant to be.
She would rage against. . .The Machine.
*****
HER LIPS ARE DEVIL RED AND HER SKIN’S THE COLOR OF MOCHA. SHE’S LIVING LA VIDA LOCA.
*****
“Identification, ma’am.”
“What? This is absurd. I’m already inside the building.” Hermione pushed against the bouncer. In the time she had taken to raif, the sequestered hallway had been cordoned off, fitted with a door for screening ‘prying eyes’, and stationed with a lanky gatekeeper.
“Back of the line,” the bouncer demanded.
“There is no line!”
“Can I see some I.D.?” he asked once more, none too gently.
“Are you serious, Harry? I’m older than you. What are you doing here anyway?” Harry’s tough guy façade dropped. Males these days, they just didn’t understand that girls just wanna have fun, responsibly.
“Blimey, Hermione, I’m on special assignment. What are you doing in a place like this? Are you on the guest list? The women in there are quite saucy. Gin says hello, by the way.”
“Really, Harry? It’s The Three Broomsticks, and I have a roommate to, to…”
“All right, All right-hold your imperious unicorns.” Harry lifted up the red velvet rope. “It’s only because I have a sincere affection for you.”
“And I for you. Now, bugger off.”
*****
Inside, Hermione was greeted with proof-positive that virgins were no nearer to purity than Lav Lav herself. As Harry had attested, the women were categorically debauched with their tiaras and giggling and contact lenses. Strumpets to the nth degree! And where had all the extra women come from? The sight of the bachelorette party made Hermione’s blood boil. Then…the music came on:
YOU DON’T WANT TO LOSE IT AGAIN. BUT I’M NOT LIKE THEM. BABY WHEN YOU FINALLY GET TO LOVE SOMEONE. GUESS WHAT? IT’S GONNA ME.
Like a purple dinosaur borne aloft on billowing clouds held up by a baby Guatemalan Howler Monkey, Draco Malfoy sailed onto the stage in eccentric Jurassic splendour. It was the most beautiful sight of Hermione Jane Granger’s whole life, though she was sure the costume was the results of drunken transfiguration.
When he did a twirl, several ladies of weak constitution fainted. When he rawr-ed, the melodious sound caressed her soul. When he gyrated his hips, she felt her body grow flush with hot pangs of romantic longings. And when he beckoned the crowd with his long, yellow claws, all Hades broke loose in an indecorous display of possession and unladylike behaviour.
“He’s mine!”
“You must be joking. We’re fated!” shouted Irma Pince.
“You’re not his type. He said as much in third-year, you hag.”
“Who asked for your five pound, minus three quid, £1,50 in fifty-pence, nine ten-pences, £0,30 five-pence, and three one cent pences? That’s £0,02 if you’re daft in the head.”
“Did it take you all day to figure those sums, McGonagall?” Hooch taunted.
Draco, undeterred, continued dancing upon the stage. He was heedless to the extent of the uproar he was causing with his lustrous virgin body. Although he wasn’t as young as he used to be and had the shape of a three-month pregnant woman, he still had all the moves like Jagger and the showmanship to carry on with the performance.
“Say it to my face!”
“I proclaimed it. I prophesied it. Thereby, he is rightfully mine. He belongs to me.” bellowed Madame Centis as Trewlaney shimmered in and out of focus.
“Shameful Cougars! The lot of you.”
I DON’T THINK YOU’RE READY FOR THIS JELLY. I DON’T THINK YOU’RE READY FOR THIS JELLY. I DON’T THINK YOU’RE READY FOR THIS. MY BODY’S TOO BOOTYLICIOUS FOR YOU BABY
Hermione stood stock-still as her eyes deceived her for the second time that evening. Surely, the vision that was ‘Draco the Neanderthal’ had to be a chimera if she was witnessing her old professors on the cusp of a fracas? These were honorable women, renowned in their respective fields, but here they were, fighting over a man as if he were chattel. It couldn’t be so.
Big, round tears trickled from her eyes. “I knew it. It’s just too good to be true. Purple dinosaur people! As though my deepest, darkest desire could be realized! Life is cruel.” Settling on her hands and knees, Hermione crawled over to the stage, out of the crossfire. This environment was completely unfit for a man with child. She would push aside her intoxication and rescue him.
Woe is me.
She flung a mild curse at an unstable witch blocking her path.
“Always a room-mate and never a Veela-mate,” she mumbled in her drunken haste.
Crawling the distance to him, she hoisted herself up onto the makeshift platform as Draco danced on a tier above her. Filthy with grime and grit, she begrudged having to pure being with sullied hands. Meanwhile, Draco was busy shaking his booty in sensual circles. From the look of his dashing smirk and the way the sweat tickled down his throat, he was having a grand ol’ time.
She wanted to be dazzled but fought to remain focus. “Psst! Draco!”
“Not now, Granger. I’m busy.” He did an eight-count move.
“No, Draco, it’s got to be this instant!”
“Well if you insist. Wait for the refrain.”
“Fine!” Crossing her arms, Hermione tapped her toes to the music as she waited. Her shoulders did a little bounce and her hips a slight dip.
“All right. What is it?”
“No! This is my part.” She swayed to the beat.
“Are you serious?! Do you know the counts I had to do to execute a premature ending? It’s bloody difficult, Hermione. Bloody difficult.”
“Well, you’re awfully cranky,” Hermione said while two-stepping. “We have to go. Everyone’s completely at their wits’ end. Look around you.”
Draco looked about at the chaos. Enthusiastically, Hermione swayed with her body.
“Ready to go then, Draco?”
“I was certainly looking forward to the next two tracks. It’s a pity ladies can’t control themselves around me.”
“Take my hand and I’ll Apparate us some place safe. We haven’t time to reach the Floo.”
“Not good, Hermione,” he chided as he reached for her, ready for a magnificent escape. “By the way, I’ve got something very important to share with you.”
Could it be? She played it cool. “Then, I look forward to hearing it.”
*****
“CIRCE’S HOLY BEARD. She’s kidnapping him!”
OOPS!... I DID IT AGAIN. I PLAYED WITH YOUR HEART. GOT LOST IN THE GAME. OH BABY BABY OOPS!
And before the crowd of frenzied ladies could converge on the duo, in burst Charlie the Unicorn.
Continue or ToC