Finding New Love

The Last Dance

"I still don't know why you agreed to go to this thing, Mal," Harry said, yanking at the collar of his shirt uncomfortably.  He was dressed in formal clothing that Mal had gotten from a package. She assumed that the clothing was Eve's work. A formal gown and a formal tux. There had been a small note that had said, "Here's to crashing parties and having fun."

"You don't have to know," she said, slipping on a leather jacket. "Just trust me. I want to finish things. And I know that we waited basically months for an attacking that never came, but that doesn't prove anything other than Ben doesn't know how this game works."

Harry shook his head. That was exactly what he was concerned about. Maybe the king did know how to play the game. And maybe that would lead to a million other things that would end up with them getting hurt. If the king hurt Mal again, she would claim that she was okay and try to convince that because she got hurt by him once, she wasn't going to let it happen a second time. And so she would carry on, hiding the fact that it hurt, and that was because she, like the rest of them, despite her messed up heritage, was at least somewhat human.

"I know," Harry said, moving so that he was behind her. He wrapped his arms around  her waist and pulled her into him. He rested his chin right in the crook of her neck. He was nervous, to say the very least, that this was the last time that he would see this Mal. Harry had no idea what the foolish king had in going on in his tiny brain, but Harry knew that he wanted to at least try so that he could protect his girl. "But are you sure about going? I mean, we could always just stay home and, I don't know, do other stupid things that won't potentially involve us getting thrown into an Auradon prison of some sorts."

"And why in the world might they do something like that to us?" Mal asked, genuinely confused. "Ben's parents love me. I got most of the students at Auradon to at least tolerate me, so why-"

"Oh, I don't know," Harry interrupted. "It might have to do with the fact that you were going to put their son, the king, Ben, if you will, through," he paused, counting off his fingers, "Seven? Maybe eight forms of torture that were of course planned, and, might I add, getting them set up should've killed not only me, but Carlos and Jay as well. So how's about that?"

Mal opened her mouth as if she were about to object, but quickly closed it after. Her jaw was set, and her eyes were almost glowing green. She didn't want to be reminded that she had been stupid and brash. "What does it matter to you if they die! They're not your friends!"

"No," he said, his voice growing lower in anger. "But they mean something to you. They're your friends. I'd have thought that you would care about them more than you're showing."

Mal's eyes returned to normal, fear briefly coursing behind her glare. She hated when Harry got angry. People thought he was bad when he was being his normal psychotic self, but he was worse when he was pissed off.

Harry, knowing Mal too well, said, "I'm not mad at you." He held his left arm out so that Mal could take it. She did, and he immediately pulled her into a hug. "Never at you." He was upset at the fact that she had gone through such measures to get revenge. He hated that he couldn't be the one protecting her when she was in Auradon. He noticed the tears that were slipping down her face. "No crying. You'll ruin the dress and your makeup."

Mal let out a laugh. "Like you care about the makeup that I'm wearing. Or my dress," she said.

"I do," Harry said, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Cuz when you cry, and you ruin your makeup, and especially when you're wearing that mascara crap, it turns all blotchy. And I know that the dress that you're wearing is that weird material that when you get it wet, it stains, or something like that."

"And how do you know this?" Mal asked, genuinely curious of his answer. Why would Harry know so much about things that Ben had considered pointless.

"I know, because you used to scold me all the time. There was one time when I took you out to the docks when we were a lot younger. And you started crying because your dress got wet. Then I asked you why, and you told me that the dress was made out of the weird material that stains with water," he said, remembering hat particular memory. It was one that he could recall very easily. Because it was the moment that he realized that he liked Mal.

"So..." a voice interrupted. "Are we going to this party or what. 'Cause I want out of this tux ASAP."

Mal and Harry separated almost immediately, and were a couple feet apart. They turned their heads to the voice to find Jay standing in the doorway, covering Carlos' eyes.

"Why am I not allowed to see? It's not like they're doing anything naughty," Carlos said, trying to swat at Jay's hand.

"Yeah, but it's a private moment. And I don't think that it's very nice of you to want to intrude," Jay said with one of his smug smirks.

"Hypocrite," Carlos mumbled under his breath, finally giving up.

"Yeah," Mal said, answering the older' Scott's question. "Let's get this show on the road."

Jay and Carlos started walking out to the car that was waiting for them. Mal made to follow, but Harry stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

"When we get there, I don't care what you do. Don't endanger your friends' lives though," he said softly.

"Anything else before we leave, mother?" Mal asked, annoyed that Harry would think that she would make the same mistake twice.

"Yeah," he said moving his mouth right by her ear. "Do allow me the pleasure of having the last dance with you."

"And in what way do you mean that?" Mal asked, shivering from the way that his voice went lower, and his breath against her ear.

Harry pulled away, making his way to the car. "In whatever way you want to, sweetheart."