Slippery Soap Suds

A/n: ahem ahem… 1st attempt on a HP fic…although I've tried (Hellish, Draco-Harry would come later…I've written like five lines!" Anyway, this baby is also my first attempt on exclusive heterosexual relationship (boy-girl)…so pardon my "fumbling and all"…although the title (which btw, freaking resembles that of a harlequin SuperRomance…gag!) kind of gives a hint. Suggestion for better titles totally welcome!

EDIT: So I've decided to edit the first few chapters of this baby. Just to get those first-time readers wanting for more. (Because I'm an evil biatch like that who wishes that Harry Potter is mine and not J.K. Rowling's. D)



"So, who's the lucky lady you're going to take to the winter dance, Harry?" Ron Weasley asked, leaning towards his friend, eager for his answer.

Me, of course… Hermione Granger. Right, Harry?

Harry Potter stopped what he was doing (which was pretty much nothing considering the fact that he was just doodling the undoubtedly ugly faces of Snape and Malfoy). He darted a quick glance at a furiously busy frizzy head, and looked at Ron blankly. "I don't know yet."

Sigh… I know, I know… Harry likes me… as a friend. He does like "like" me…only in my dreams.

"No idea yet?" Ron's eyes were bulging. "But this is no ordinary dance, Harry!" He lowered his voice so only Harry could hear his next words. "It's high time you got yourself a girlfriend… and you know who I mean." Both took a glimpse of Hermione Granger who was still buried in her books, forever the saintly Gryffindor nerd.

"How about you, Hermione?" Ron turned to her. "Who are you going to the dance with?"

Harry, of course…


I said, Harry! Of course, that is, if he still can't find someone 'til the last minute… Then, I'd sort of represent him, and it would be very much like a date…


"Huh?" The girl looked up from her work, pretending she hadn't heard. "Sorry… what were you trying to say?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Look at this girl! She's paying more attention to her books than her own friends… We just wanted to know who your partner for the dance will be."

"I don't know," Hermione answered, too quickly. "And I don't really care… It's just some dance. I don't even get a grade for fumbling around with some guy." Oops. Too mean…

"Well, if you don't have…" Harry stammered, gathering his courage and finally deciding that this was the right time to slip in his invitation.

"She doesn't have a social life," Ron cut in. "She hasn't even heard of it!" Harry cursed silently, wishing that somehow by some sick twist of fate, Ron's tongue would just fall off his mouth. Great timing, you git!

The girl's eyes narrowed. "Of course, I have… At least, I have a life! Unlike other people who're too busy frolicking around, annoying other people, to notice that they are the ones who actually don't have a life!"

"What got you so infuriated all of a sudden?" Ron attacked. "I was just telling you to…expand your horizon or something like that… No need to get all loud-mouthed at me! Girls…"

"What's wrong with girls?" Hermione protested, her feminist side taking a hold of her. Conversations with Ron somehow always end up in fights.

Ron stared murderously outside the window and grumbled something about girls and their monthly periods and hot heads…

"Uh, guys…" Harry started. This was getting kinda out of hand.

"Shut up, Harry!" Hermione barked. "I wanna hear Ron explain…"

Ron faced Hermione with a quite shocked/ furious look. "What is your problem? I was just asking an innocent question here and you had to make such a big deal out of it. You know what? That's your problem! You're so bloody moody! Moody moody moody mu- "

"What? Say it!" The others were starting to stare. It wasn't unusual for Ron and Hermione to fight during study hall. It was a weekly live freak show, but to have Ron almost call Hermione something was a new episode.

"You want me to say it? You really want me to say it? M…m…"

"Stop it, guys!" Harry interrupted before Ron could say something he would regret later on. He turned to the frustrated girl with concern. Hermione sure was crabby today. Usually she just shrugs off Ron. It wasn't her habit to stoop down to Ron's level (not saying Ron's level is low or anything like that). "Are you okay, Herm?"

Hermione reddened madly. What could Harry be possibly thinking? This was all Ron's fault! She abruptly stood up and snapped, "Yes, I'm fine! Thanks for asking, and sorry I've ruined your day!" She gathered her books and stomped off somewhere, anywhere her feet would take her, any place where she could sit and cry her heart out in solitude. I really don't want to be emo right now but the restroom sounds like a good idea…


"What?" Draco Malfoy spewed frogs' legs at Lavender's made-up face, which now resembled green scrambled eggs.

Lavender wiped the mess from her face, trying to control her anger, and repeated for the OH MIGHTY KING for the hundredth time, "I'm reminding you to buy me a corsage!"

"I heard!" Draco spat. "What for?"

"We're partners for the dance, remember?" Lavender sighed exasperatedly. How could a Malfoy be such a moron?

Draco frowned. "I don't remember. I never had plans of going, anyway… And if I had to go with someone, it definitely wouldn't be you! Fussy Gryffindor fangirl…"

Lavender gaped at him, not believing the words that came out of Draco's mouth. Okay! She did make up that part… but did he have to be so mean? She may be a Gryffindor and he may be a Slytherin but there is still such a thing as love! (End dramatic moment). "Why! – "

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, mouth too full to diss her away. Lavender harrumphed and left in a state of delirium.

The Great Malfoy continued devouring the enchanted exotic dishes served. He thought of the winter dance, and decided it was a good idea he dropped Lavender. The night would just be wasted on star-gazing. Elch! Girl stuff... How could they even connect everything with romantic lovey-dove stuff?

So maybe I'm too judgmental… Well, I don't have any problems about that love stuff. My mother would pick out a girl for me – from a sophisticated family of equal class as us – and we'd be married. She'd continue the Malfoy generation, and I'd continue living my life, upholding our name until the day Death will kiss me off to non-existence.

Ha! A guy like me would never love… I WISH I NEVER FALL IN THE CLUTCHES OF LOVE!

His thoughts were broken when he heard a commotion from the Gryffindor side. His ears picked up Potter's voice. The dweebs were fighting! He turned just in time to see the mudblood exit the Great Hall. He snickered as an idea hit him. And if I do fall in love, I swear it would never be with a mudblood…especially one like Granger! No… especially Granger!


"Have you heard?"

"Uh-huh! The winter dance is arranged!"

This particular line struck Hermione as well as the others. Whoever heard of an arranged dance? What is this, the 14th century? She leaned closer to hear more of the conversation, which had already attracted a lot of other students.

"But that couldn't be! Malfoy and I had plans already!" Lavender.

"Will you shut up and stop telling people we're partners? If you don't want me to turn your face into an ass!" Draco walked in, shouting at Lavender, followed by Crabbe and Goyle: Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

Ugh, Hermione thought, quite disgusted at the girl's choice. She still couldn't believe how Lavender could idolize such a guy. No, such an animal! Draco was not the man of her dreams…and never will be.

"But I heard Dumbledore already agreed to it…" Neville.

"…and risk turning the dance into a big flop?" Ron.

Hermione felt a quick jolt of guilt pass through her. She hadn't meant to be such a sap to Ron. Yes, it had been two days since the study hall scene…and no, nobody made a move. Not even Harry.

"Maybe we could let McGonagall confirm all this…" Harry suggested. Oh, Harry… If the winter dance is arranged, we could never be partners! Hermione thought, hopelessly.

"Yeah!" Ron agreed, getting into the spirit. "We could tell her how we all feel!"

"I'm afraid I can do nothing about that, Mister Weasley," Professor McGonagall joined in, breaking the group. Everyone slipped into their seats, eager for the news.

The teacher cleared her throat. "As Mister Longbottom had said, Professor Dumbledore had approved of this idea, which I personally believe can help take care of certain strains between the houses…"

Everybody groaned. The teachers always tried to do this – Hogwarts United and all that crap. As if they never learned their lesson that things like this just do NOT work. This was turning into a disaster!

"BUT!" Professor McGonagall tapped on her desk for silence. "We, the teachers, do not arrange you… the partnership will be at random and in secret until the day of the dance. Only the Heads will know the identity of your partners…"

"Looks like this destroys any chance of you and 'you-know-who'…" Ron whispered to Harry, who nodded gravely.

"But how will we know who our partners will be?" Parvati cried.

"Yes… I was getting to that," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "You will know your partners by a certain codename…"

"How juvenile!" Draco, who had been silent throughout the whole discussion, finally commented. "Who even thought of such crap?"

Professor McGonagall's cat eyes cut through Draco's blue ones. "I don't tolerate the use of vulgar language, Mister Malfoy… But if you really wanted to know who suggested this idea, it was Professor Snape…"

Draco reddened, and mumbled something that sounded very much like magoggles and pitch in one sentence.

"I guess it's time for you to start thinking of your codenames," the professor ordered. "I'm giving you seven minutes and then we'll start the selection."

"I don't think that's necessary in my case, professor," Draco said with his signature smug smirk. "…because I'm not going to the dance…"

"Ho! Ho!" Professor McGonagall chuckled, and added, "Before I forget, this particular dance is graded…and absence would cost fifty points off your house." She smiled sweetly at Draco. "Thank you for reminding me, Mister Malfoy."

"What?" Draco burst out, fists balled. But the teacher just ignored him, and sat on her chair instead.

"Let's see… four minutes more!"


What kind of girl would use a codename as "September Nymph"? The blonde wondered, frowning at his choice. The selection had been finished, and from the looks of it, everyone seemed as if they were actually enjoying the whole mystery thing. A loony, perhaps?

His eyes scanned the room and fell on Lavender, who was still crying at the sudden turn of events. Pathetic psycho? He shuddered and continued searching, stopping at the new girl, Gwen. Hmm… Not bad.

Then, a certain bush of wild hair caught his attention. Hermione Granger. Mudblood… The word seemed to burn his tongue. Never…

Draco was actually staring at Hermione abnormally long, and the boy noticed too late. Hermione had locked her eyes with his in something like a stranglehold. Draco curled his lips, as if to say, You got no right to look at me that way. When Hermione scowled and looked away, he laughed.

Mudbloods…weird lot…


"And what's his problem?" Hermione seethed, irritated at the Slytherin boy's subtle yet weird insult.

"What are you saying, Hermione?" Neville asked her.

Hermione quickly faced him and smiled. "Uh, nothing! Who did you get?"

"Witchweed…" Neville replied. "I hope she turns out, well, better than I hoped for… Are you, by any chance, Witchweed?"

"No…" Hermione answered, a bit puzzled. What was my name anyway? She racked her brain for the alias she used. "Wait…I don't remember!"

"Now that you mentioned it…" Neville started, scratching his head. "I don't remember mine, either!"

"No offense, Neville but you always forget… But I! I never forget!" Hermione wailed. There was a buzz as everybody else noticed they, too, had forgotten theirs.

"Calm down, everyone!" Professor McGonagall said over the murmurs. "I made you all forget your codenames to avoid any spills. Nothing's wrong with you…" She looked at the distressed Hermione who sighed thankfully.

"So, who did you get?" Neville went back to the topic.

Hermione frowned. "Some guy named 'Dragonsbane'…"

"Ooh… macho!" Neville joked.

"Ha! We don't know, Neville…He just might turn out to be my prince charming," Hermione joked along. Then, grumbling to herself, she focused her attention back to her essay. "Not that I care…" If it had been Harry… What if he was Harry? She beamed at the thought as inspiration fueled her hand to writing. Life sure was sneaky.


A/N: If you still didn't get what the m word Ron was about to say to Hermione, then you're a loser. :P I didn't change chapter 1 around so much, just some minor changes to grammar and sprinkled a few more words here and there. Wouldn't want the Slippery Soap Suds virgins to be discouraged! ;) So head on to Chapter 2 now!