Love Me, If You Dare

Disclaimer

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.



Author

Lord Morsmordre



Rating

R



Pairing

Harry x Draco, and other subpairings include het.



Chapter One

Saint-Seducing Gold





It all started when...



“Now class, I will warn you again and again, that this charm is a very complicated one - and for those that are not yet sure of whether they can handle it correctly, should first practice on the mice I have given you. Once you are absolutely sure that you have mastered the spell, you may proceed to attempt it on yourselves, under the knowledge that all mistakes and mishaps will be of your very own responsibility.”



Professor McGonagall peered at the class over her spectacles warningly and then waved her hand.



“You may commence.”



The classroom babble immediately rose as each and every student picked up their wand and began shouting the incantation as their professor had shown them.



“Like anyone’ll ever have the guts to try it on their classmates.” Ron snorted, brandishing his wand only halfheartedly at the two different colored mice running around on his desk. “Dunno what the use of this spell is. I mean, who’d want to trade body parts with someone who could have bogies clogged up their nose?”



Hermione huffed irritably and shook her head. “Honestly Ron, you don’t use your brain do you? Think of all the things you could do if you actually managed to get the spell to work?”



“Like what?” the redhead asked with a frown. “Scare away enemies with Crabbe’s armpit hair?”



Harry clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle a burst of laughter.



“NO.” Hermione glared. “It’s a very useful spell. For example, if you needed a better sense of smell, you could trade your nose with a dog’s. Or if you needed nimble legs to climb to high places, you could trade your legs for a cat’s. The list goes on and on.”



“Yeah, but what if those animals run off with your nose and legs? Don’t you think that might be a bit unfortunate?”



“Oh for goodness sake! If you’re very careful when performing the spell, you wouldn’t have to worry about mistakes!” she argued. “Watch.”



Harry and Ron leaned in to get a closer look at Hermione’s mice.



“Sparstarsio!” she flicked her wand and with a small spark of purple light, the mice were engulfed in a cloud of smoke. She impatiently waved the smoke away and then beamed, “See?”



Indeed, the spell seemed to have worked because now, one mouse was pink with blue hind legs, and the other was blue with pink hind legs. Harry was very impressed.



“It’s not that hard, you know.” Hermione went on, returning both sets of legs to it respective body. “Go on, try it.”



Harry and Ron glanced at each other skeptically but shrugged and picked up their wands.



“Right, so what was the incantation again?” Harry asked slowly, rolling up his sleeves.



“Sparstarsio.” she repeated. “And make sure to annunciate correctly.”



Ron cleared his throat twice. “SparstarSIO!”



Harry winced and clamped his eyes shut, preparing for the worst.



“Did I do it right?” he heard Ron ask eagerly. “Did I ... oh...”



“I told you Ron! You said it all wrong! You’re not supposed to charm their legs off , you’re supposed to trade them!”



Loud squeaks were coming from the poor mice as they tried to drag themselves around on their two front paws. Ron’s ears tinged red and he tapped his wand on the table muttering, “Finite Incantem”.



“Maybe you should try it on yourself and see if that doesn’t knock some sense into you!” Hermione snapped disapprovingly, pushing Ron’s wand away and undoing the spell for him, as he seemed unable to. “I’d think that six years at school would teach you how to annunciate correctly! Honestly!”



“No need to blow up in my face, ‘Mione.” Ron retorted angrily. “I’m not the only one that isn’t doing it right! I bet Harry can’t do it either, can you Harry?” he whirled around to eye Harry.



Harry grinned and raised his eyebrow. “Of course I can’t, what do you expect? After all, you’ve been my study partner for the past six years.”



Ron punched him in the arm, grinning too and nodded toward Harry’s set of orange and green mice. “Go on then. Show us what you’ve got.”



Imitating Ron, he cleared his throat and straightened his back, and chanted, ‘SPARSTARSIO!’ in a mockingly high pitched tone which elicited a snigger from Ron.



The mice were temporarily engulfed in another bout of purple smoke and the three leaned in cautiously to see what had become of the helpless little rodents.



When the smoke cleared, no one uttered a sound; they just stared at the two mice in shock.



“I don’t believe it.” Hermione whispered, her brown eyes wide and her mouth slightly open.



“Bloody hell, Harry...” Ron cursed, shifting his gaze to Harry’s equally surprised face. “You... you...”



Harry looked at Ron in return, his lips curving slowly into a lopsided smile.



“Well, I guess that just leaves you then, Ron.” Harry said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and settling back into his chair.



Ron growled and moodily jabbed his wand at his mice again. “I was probably cursed when I was born, by someone who didn’t want me to succeed in school.” his eye twitched. “I’ll bet you anything it was Fred and George. Otherwise, I don’t see why I can’t do simple spells. It’s not like I’m Neville or anything. He was naturally born that way.”



Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly. Trying her best to look a bit consoling, she patted his shoulder sympathetically and smiled.



“First of all Ron, Fred and George weren’t old enough to cast such a dark spell on you. They were only three for heaven’s sake. And second of all, this spell isn’t simple. Like you said, half the class is having problems with it too. And thirdly ,” her expression hardened again and she withdrew her hand. “There is nothing wrong with Neville. I don’t think you should be the one saying things about him.”



“Yeah, well fine. We’ll keep Neville out of it, but me and Harry have always been more or less on the same step! If this spell is so bloody difficult, then why did he manage it?” Ron slumped onto the desk and crossed his arms. “Mum’ll kill me if I don’t pass N.E.W.T.s this year. She threatens each of us in turn once we’re in seventh year, saying that she’ll make us de-gnome the garden for the rest of our lives. Mind you, Fred and George were the only ones that got away with it.”



“Ron - you just need to practice more instead of playing chess and flying around all the time.” Hermione said. “If you just came to study with me at least three times a week, you’d do so much better.”



“And how are you three doing?” Professor McGonagall’s brisk voice broke into their conversation and they looked up.



“Pathetically.” muttered Ron. “At least I am.”



“Well then Mr. Weasley. Perhaps you should have Ms. Granger help you. As a matter of fact, I think it’s time for everyone to pair up.” she turned to the rest of the class and produced a bell with her wand. The ringing effectively got everyone’s attention and they halted what they were doing. “Everyone pair up with someone to practice now, and for all those who are still in the need to practice on mice, continue doing so with your partners.”



“You two go ahead.” Harry nodded. “I’ll pair up with Neville.”



Ron looked uneasy. “You sure, mate? I don’t think that’s a very good idea - ”



“I’ll be fine.” Harry said, scooting his chair across the aisle to where Neville was sitting alone. Neville’s face lit up as Harry settled himself across from him and pulled out his wand. “Hey Neville.” he greeted. “Partner?”



“Sure!” Neville said cheerfully, picking up his own wand. His smile faltered the next second. “But I need help.”



Harry still feeling rather proud at his latest accomplishment, smiled and grabbed the tail of one of the mice that was attempting to climb onto his arm.

“Don’t worry Neville, I’ll show you.”



He placed the scuttling florescent yellow mouse and tapped his wand three times.



“But -” Neville stuttered.



“Sparstarsio!”



Harry nearly fell off his seat when an explosion of purple smoke ten times larger then what it was supposed to be, filled the air between him and Neville. He distinctly heard Neville let out a frightened squeak and a crash of a chair falling over.



Coughing Harry stood up and hurried over to the other side of the table as other students began to gather around the smoke. When it cleared away, an echo of gasps were heard and then loud laughter.



“Mr. Longbottom! What is this?” Professor McGonagall demanded, standing over Neville, who was sitting on his bum on the floor looking confused.



Harry stepped forward and bit his lip apologetically.



“It- it wasn’t Neville’s fault Professor... I uh - it’s my fault.”



Professor McGonagall pursed her lips severely and put her hands on her hips. “I am quite certain that I said to only attempt the spell on yourself, not other students.”



Harry fiddled with his wand and muttered, “Sorry Professor”.



“Well then, go on. Undo those ridiculous whiskers.” she said, pointing to the brilliant set of thick white hairs that had sprouted out of Neville’s pink cheeks.



Harry nodded and raised his wand at Neville, who instinctively flinched and put his hand over his head.



“Finite Incantem.” said Harry.



The whole class watched as.... nothing happened.



“Finite Incantem.” repeated Harry, a little more urgently.



Still nothing happened.



“Finite Incantem! ” He almost shouted, before Professor McGonagall put her arm out to stop Harry’s wild arm.



“Mr. Potter. That will be enough. Bring Mr. Longbottom to the Hospital Wing and have Madame Pomfrey take care of it. I believe it is out of our hands.”



Harry extended his hand to Neville who took and let himself be heaved up off the floor. They made their way to the classroom door and out into the hall.



“I’m sorry about that, Neville... I didn’t think -” he started uneasily, trying to glance, without laughing, at Neville’s face.



Neville shook his head, whiskers bobbing to and fro. “S’okay Harry. I have weird things happen to me loads of times and Madam Pomfrey has always been able to fix it.”



“Right.” said Harry, sighing inwardly with relief. “One heck of a spell, huh?”



“Yeah. Better you than me. If it had been me doing the spell, you’d have been worse off.” Neville said sheepishly, smiling.



“Well, there’s no one better then you at Herbology.” countered Harry. “Not even Hermione’s as good as you, and that’s definitely saying something.”



Neville blushed and lowered his gaze to his feet.



“It’s nothing.”



Not too long after that, they reached the infirmary doors on the third floor and Harry left Neville to be treated by Madam Pomfrey.



“I’ll see you at dinner Neville -” Harry said, waving, and he left.

----------------------


“You want me to help you do what ?”



Neville flushed from head to toe and put his finger to his lips to shush him.



“Not so loud!” he squeaked frantically, eyes darting around. “I can’t let anyone find out...”



“Oh right.” Harry muttered, lowering his voice to a whisper. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke up again. “But are you sure you want me to help you? I mean, I’m not very.... experienced with - with er...”



Neville’s eyes widened and he put his hands together. “But you’re the only one that wouldn’t make fun of me Harry. Everyone else would just laugh and crack jokes! It’d be horrible.”



“A.... a l-love letter?” stammered Harry, his cheeks glowing to match the hue of Neville’s now de-whiskered cheeks. “You want me to help you write a - love letter...?”



Neville nodded determinedly.



“To... who?”



Harry watched curiously as the other boy mumbled something incoherent as he shifted his gaze to the floor, hands twitching nervously.



This is bizarre , thought Harry in disbelief. Neville? Love letter? And the most insane thing was, that Neville was asking HIM to help him write one. Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, aiding a friend along his path of love. He almost laughed outloud at that.



“Neville -” he started, forcing his laughter down. “I really don’t think you’re asking the right person for this. I mean, wouldn’t it be better to ask a girl who actually knows about this kind of stuff?”



“But - I don’t want it to sound as though a girl wrote it.” Neville said forlornly. “I want it to sound...”



“Oh I get it.” Harry smiled. “You want it to sound impressively masculine. Or something along those lines.”



“Uhuh.”



“Really though, I’m warning you, I might do more damage than good... but I guess... I do owe you something for what happened in class today...”



“Really? You’ll help me Harry?” Neville asked excitedly, sitting up quickly. “Thanks!”



Neville was about to scurry off out of the armchair he’d been sitting in to head to the boy’s dormitories, but Harry stopped him.



“By the way - you never told me who you want me to help you write the letter to. Who is it? Ginny?”



Neville froze guiltily, shuffling his feet on the red carpet.



“N-no. I-it’s not... G-Ginny.”



“Then who?”



There was silence for a moment before Neville finally looked up with pleading eyes.



“You promise you won’t get mad, Harry?”



Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. “Why would I get mad?”



“I-it’s.... it’s......”



“Go on.”



“It’s.... Pansy. Pansy Parkison.” the name came out as barely a whisper and Harry almost didn’t hear it. It took him a second to process the vowels and the consonants together, and when the name finally locked into place, he nearly fell off the overstuffed armchair he’d been lounging on.



“What???” he cried loudly. Neville began panicking and threw himself at Harry as the other occupants in the common room turned their heads in surprise. Harry felt Neville’s hand clamp over his mouth, but despite the barrier, he shouted in a muffled voice, “ Pansy Parkison??? ”



Once Harry calmed a bit and let himself inhale deeply, he yanked Neville’s hand off of his mouth and stared at him, eyes almost popping out of their sockets.



“You? Her??? ”



“Please don’t get upset - I-I couldn’t help it! I-in Herbology, she and I were partners - and... and she helped me repot the new Mandrakes and.....”



“But Neville -” Harry brushed away the ridiculous story. “She’s a Slytherin !”



“I - I know.” muttered Neville, but then he drew himself up defiantly. “B-but I don’t think just because you’re from different houses, you can’t associate with one another. I agree with Hermione when she says interhouse relations are important!”



“Yeah but...” Harry argued, struggling for the right words. There really were no right and wrong words to state the obvious. He threw his hands up incredulously. “She’s best friends with Malfoy !”



Neville frowned disagreeably. “Well she’s never really physically done anything to make fun of me before. You can’t judge people by who they’re friends with. That would be unfair, don’t you think?”



“Not in this case, no.” Harry said flatly. Seeing the helpless look on Neville’s face, he rubbed his eyes wearily and sat back down. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry I blew up. I... it was just a bit of a shock. That’s all. I’ll help you write you letter, Neville.”



Neville’s face lit up like lights on a Christmas tree and he grinned from ear to ear.



“Thanks Harry!” he whispered breathlessly, taking Harry’s hand and shaking it. “I - I..”



“I think we should head up and get to bed.” Harry said, wincing at his hand being squeezed to death and managing to detach it from the grip. “We’ll write the letter tomorrow, since it’s Saturday and all. Alright?”



“Right.” Neville dropped his hands and picked up the books and notes he’d been studying on before he’d popped the question to Harry. “Thanks again, Harry.”



“Yeah, anytime.” Harry faked a cheerful smile and turned around to climb the stone steps to their dormitory. Once he was standing on the seventh year landing, he let out a noiseless sigh and dropped the smile. “What’s Neville trying to get himself into? What in Merlin’s name have Igotten myself into?”

--------------------------


It was midmorning on Saturday, and both Harry and Neville were sitting undisturbed by the warmth of the fire in the empty Gryffindor common room. Everyone else had gone off to Hogsmeade, even Ron and Hermione, which was fortunate for them.



Harry and Neville had said that they were planning to study together for the potions test coming up the following Monday; Ron, not being one too fond of study sessions, was forced to invite Hermione to go along to Hogsmeade with him (“NOT as a date or anything...”) and so that had taken care of the nosiest.



Harry dearly wished that he was with his two best friends at this moment, drinking a mug of warm frothing Butterbeer and refilling his now nearly empty Honeyduke’s bag with candy. Yet, here he was, spending a good Saturday, the only day he had absolutely nothing going on - not even Quidditch practice - helping Neville write a love letter to Pansy Parkison, the foulest Slytherinette in all of Hogwarts. He really didn’t see what in the world Neville saw in the sour girl. He certainly didn’t and would never find anything remotely attractive about her. Or any of the Slytherins for that matter.



He shuddered inwardly and realised then that Neville had been talking to him the whole time his mind had lapsed into wandering thoughts.



“So, how should I start the letter off?” Neville asked thoughtfully, his gray quill poised quivering over the long roll of parchment on the table.



Harry coughed and propped his elbows onto the table, frowning.



“Oh uh - I dunno. ‘Dear Pansy’?” he suggested lamely. Maybe I should just tell Neville to give up the notion of ever being with Pansy, just to save his own neck. Which would be more hurtful? Me, knowingly letting Neville become the laughing stock of the whole school, or me, breaking his heart into shreds and ruining his first crush?



“Brilliant.” Neville hastily scribbled the words onto the top left hand side of the parchment. “And then ....” he paused and then turned to Harry, looking confused. “What DO you usually write in a letter to someone you... you fancy?”



Harry nearly snorted but stopped himself just in time and covered it by clearing his throat and shrugging. “Erm - tell them you fancy them I suppose.”



“That’s all?”



“Well, I guess you could tell them what you like about them, list their good qualities -” he said, ticking them off his fingers. “Ask them out on a date - ” There goes any hope of saving Neville from his doom.



Neville laughed nervously. “Yeah, so then, what should I write next?”



And I can’t believe I’m doing this. Harry groaned silently.



“Let’s go with telling her how you feel about her, first. Then we can go on to the other stuff after that. So what would you say to her - Pansy - if you were face to face with her?”



Neville’s mouth dropped open fearfully and he jerked his head from side to side. “I could never tell her in person. That’d be too intimidating!”



Harry remembered back in fifth year when he and Cho had had their unsuccessfully awkward moments and he’d hardly had the guts to ask her out on a date to Hogsmeade on Valentine’s Day either. He didn’t blame Neville for being scared, especially as his problem was as big as Pansy.



“Here I’ll jot down some ideas for you.” Harry offered, picking up his own quill and dipping it into the ink bottle. “And then you make use of them okay?”



The quicker he got to the point, the sooner he would be able to leave.



“Dear Pansy” .....

-----------------------------


“Dear Pansy,



This letter might be a bit sudden and I hope you don’t reject it, as I’ve thought very hard and long about what I should tell you. I hardly know where to start, but I know that either way, I should tell you anyway and so I decided to tell you now.



Remember that day that we were partners in Herbology together? It was a lot of fun and I never knew that you were so interested in the subject, just as I am. I admired your ability to handle the Mandrake’s, even at their later stages. I’ve never seen anyone other than Professor Sprout who knows so much about plants.



I’ve known you for nearly seven years and I’ve always thought that you might be nice to get to know someday, and I hope you’ll give me the chance.



Maybe we can go to Hogsmeade sometime soon so we can talk.



Please reply soon,



Neville Longbottom



“ ‘I admired your ability to handle the Mandrake’s... maybe we can go to Hogsmeade sometime soon.’ Oh my fucking word, how pathetic can Longbottom get? Is this for real??” Draco laughed crudely, crumpling up the letter in his left hand and tossing it over at Pansy who was lounging on Draco’s bed, reading a PlayWitch magazine. “Pansy darling, I think he’s smitten with you.”



Pansy groaned disgustedly and flipped her thick gold hair over her shoulder.



“That’s the most nauseating thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” she said, mimicking throwing up. “He has some nerve to write something so revolting.”



Draco snorted and flopped onto the bed beside her.



“Don’t tell me you’re planning on breaking poor Longbottom’s heart.” he drawled.



“You don’t expect me to do anything about it, do you?” she asked incredulously.



“You should.” Draco smiled. “It’s the least you could do.”



Pansy rolled her eyes and shoved the magazine into Draco’s face.



“These are the kind of men I like to date, Draky-poo. You should know that by now.”



Draco glanced down at the fully naked, well endowed, glistening bodied pair of men on the centerfold, touching each other in the most sensual of places.



Pushing the magazine back at her, he raised his eyebrows.



“Of course I know Panse. After all, we do share the same tastes.”



Pansy smiled mischievously and kissed the picture, her eyes fixed on Draco’s. “Indeed.” she whispered. “We can’t let lazy Longbottom get away with this can we?”



“I suppose not.” Draco stretched disinterestedly. “Make copies of the letter and post them up all over the school. I’m sure he’d love that.”



Pansy’s smile widened and her eyes glinted as she gingerly picked up the crumpled ball of paper and began uncreasing it.



“Actually,” she said slowly. “I thought of something better.”



Draco didn’t reply, so she went on.



“I’m going to take your advice and reply to this.... letter.”



Draco looked at her oddly. “Oh so that’s your revenge. To go out with him on a date. Clever, I tell you.”



Pansy ran her fingers up his arm and settled her hand on his narrow shoulders.



“Of course not, silly.” she said, tracing patterns on his neck. “I’m not going to be the one writing the letters.”



“Oh really.” Draco smirked, reaching with his other hand to pry her fingers away from him. “And who do you plan on hiring for this little escapade.”



Pansy’s lifted his chin so that their eyes were level.



“You, dear.”



TBC....

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