Gemini Malfoy (a Harry Potter OC)

Waltz

One Saturday evening when the four of us had planned on hanging out in the Room of Requirement, I'd arrived early and taken the time to catch up on some reading. The progress I'd made with the book wasn't what I'd hoped as I ended up scanning the same paragraph over and over again, unable to retain the information. My mind was elsewhere, busy thinking of potential memories I could use for a patronus.

One night I'd long since thought about came to mind. It was Christmas Eve when we were maybe 7 years old and my family was hosting a gala, full of boring ministry workers and such. Draco and I had snuck down to the foyer and pretended to be rich politicians holding our fingers to our lips to imitate mustaches, and dancing like fools.

I'm quickly snapped out of my thoughts by Hermione shoes coming into view beside me, I'd hardly heard her come in. "Hi." I say, like an idiot.

"The boys had a transfiguration essay to catch up on, told me to go ahead."

I push myself of the floor. "Oh?" I couldn't recall any recent transfiguration essays, but opted not to question it.

"What was that tune you were humming?" She questions softly.

"Oh um, I don't know what it's called I'm afraid. It's an old waltz of some sort, used to play a lot when my family hosted social events."

"A waltz?" She smiles kindly, with some amount of mischievousness to her. "Would you ever dance?"

"I erm..." I laugh nervously. "We weren't often privy to attending the parties but yes, Draco and I took many dancing lessons when we were young."

"I've always wanted to learn, since the Yule ball I thought it could be fun." I remember Hermione from that night clearly. Her dress was a wonderful pink that matched her complexion and she'd attended with Viktor Krum. She smiled ear to ear most of the night and I was ashamed to admit it was the first time I'd seen her as more than Potters clever friend. I was far from alone in catching myself stealing glances at her; Blaise Zabini, whom Draco had gotten me to go with as a formality, had even caught me once or twice but assumed I was looking at the profession quidditch seeker.

"I'll teach you." I blurt out before I can realize what this would mean.

"Really?" She asks, and hearing the twinge of excitement in her voice I'd never been so sure. There wasn't anyone who loved learning quite like Hermione.

My eyes drift past her shoulder where a charming gramophone had appeared, Room of Requirement is right. I flick my wand towards it, willing the pin to lift and drop itself down on the record. A pleasant waltz comes on, led by a grand piano and accompanied by a small army of violins and cellos.

Feigning calm I place her hand on my shoulder and take her waist. "Follow my lead." She's wearing the perfume I got her.

As I show her the steps she stares at her feet, quickly trying to copy my movements. She nearly steps on my toes and quite delightfully laughs, looking up at me and catching my gaze. "You're quite good."

"I always got the steps, but could never seem to make them graceful." I tell her fondly. "Draco was the real dancer in the family."

"Malfoy?" She exclaims in disbelief.

I nod. "Of course to him the only thing more embarrassing than being a terrible dancer, is being so exceptionally good."

She grins cheekily at my stupid joke. "Thank you for showing me."

"Please, I haven't danced in ages."

"It's not just the dancing though." Our steps gradually begin to slow. "You taught Harry and I occlumency— or tried to at least." Her voice is different when she's thinking particularly hard. "And you showed us that not all Malfoys are..."

"Gits?" I suggest when she trails off. "It's alright, I live with them, I know it's true."

She shakes her head thoughtfully. "Then how'd you turn out like this?"

"With everything that's gone on in the last few years I've made a point to think for myself, besides..." I clear my throat, I hadn't realized how much closer we'd gotten, our faces barely inches apart. "There's effort in this kind of optimism." My eyes trail down to her lips for a moment. I wanted to kiss her.

"Can I kiss you?" She speaks, barely above a whisper.

Without needing to answer I let my hand leave her right one and let my arms wrap around her waist, and in a moment of courage I softly press my lips to hers. She smiles into the kiss and I feel her hands tuck behind my neck, pulling me closer.

After we'd kissed it hadn't been awkward as I might've otherwise expected. She blushed when we lay our forehead together for a moment to catch our breath, and I'm quite certain I did too.

We lay side by side on the floor and just talked until it was well after curfew. She'd just finished telling me a delightful story about her father who got bitten by a young boy at work.

"What are stitches?"

"It's a muggle way of healing, they sew wounds shut."

My eyes widen at the concept. "That's barbaric!"

She laughs at my shocked reaction. "Only a little bit."

There's a pleasant silence between us for a short moment, I lull my head to look at her profile, not wanting this to end. "It's far past curfew by now, we should probably get back."

She looks at me with a small sad smile. "We should." She stands first and gives me a hand off the ground. She kisses my cheek as we say goodnight and I'm still blushing as we head our separate ways, both cautiously hoping not to run into one of Umbridges minions. But I have no such luck.

"Oi, you there!" I snap my head in the direction of the voice, finding an illuminated wand held unfortunately in my brothers outstretched hand. "Gem?" I stilled, facing him hesitantly. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same."

"Inquisitorial squad duties." He replies as though it's obvious.

I sigh, suddenly feeling tired. "If you must know, I was having trouble sleeping, thought I might explore the castle a little."

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" He responds with a surprisingly incredulous tone.

"Draco—"

"You think I haven't noticed you constantly disappearing? Always at the same time as Plotter and his friends."

"Oh please, I've just been in the—"

"In the library?" He jabs. "Gem, you haven't been there, I've checked."

This was news. "I've been around." I state slowly, challenging him.

"I hope you know what you're doing. Umbridge knows Potter started a secret club of some sort, she knows where it is too." I withdraw at that, I couldn't know if he was bluffing but if she knew about the come and go room we were in trouble. "Umbridge is good for us."

I laugh angrily at the notion. "Is she? Name a single spell you've learned in her class."

"You know what I mean."

We stand there staring at each other in pensive silence. I finally break it. "I'm going to bed." I walk away.

"Gem." Suddenly wanting nothing more than to get to sleep, I look back at my twin. "I'll tell you before we bust Potter, but if you warn them and they aren't there, I'll tell father."