Dealing with Danger
Chapter 42: The Yule Ball (Year 4)
By Anne B. Walsh
Author Notes:
The songs aren't mine. The first one is by a band called Easily Amused, and the second one is by Rockapella.
Chapter 42: The Yule Ball
Colleen sat on the bottom step of the marble staircase. She was waiting.
Her first impulse, when she had received the letter from her Secret Admirer asking her to the ball, had been to say yes immediately. Her second impulse had been to say no just as immediately. She had taken a middle course, and returned a note asking for some time to think it over. He had agreed to grant her as much time as she wanted.
Finally, this morning, she had made up her mind, and sent him a note by way of a house-elf.
Dear Friend,
First of all, I want to thank you one more time for the lovely presents you have sent me, and the even lovelier letters. I’ve come to care about you quite a bit while we’ve been writing, and I would like to believe that you are everything you’ve said you are. But I have never seen your face, and I have no name to put with you. It might be romantic to meet my partner for the ball for the first time on that night, but it would also be very frightening.
So I am asking for one last gift — the gift of yourself. Meet me in the entrance hall between ten and eleven today, and ask me to the ball in person. I’ll give you my answer then.
Colleen
So here she was, and some of her nervous energy seemed to have gone directly into her heart, considering the way it was jumping around her body. It had soared up into her throat and mouth when a pair of boys had walked out of the dungeon stairwell, and sunk to her feet when they had walked by her without even looking down. At the moment, it was in its usual place in her chest, but its beat was much louder and more persistent than usual, thumping inside her ears like the wireless Parvati sometimes played in the afternoons...
"Excuse me. Miss Lamb?"
Colleen looked up and caught her breath. A boy was standing over her, the light from the door silhouetting him, so that all she could tell about him was that he was quite tall, and had a soft, melodious voice...
"We met at the Quidditch World Cup this summer," the boy continued, stepping aside to let the light fall on his face. He was black, with slanted eyes and high cheekbones, and Colleen suddenly recognized him.
"Of course, you’re... Blaise, that was it. Blaise Zabini. Hermione Granger-Lupin introduced us." She stood up, feeling her cheeks warm. "You kissed my hand."
"So I did. May I make bold to do so again?"
Colleen smiled shyly and held out her right hand. Blaise took it in his and brushed her knuckles with his lips. "Enchante," he murmured, as he had done then. "May I sit down?"
"Oh — yes. Of course." Colleen sat down again quickly, careful of the icicles which threatened to poke into her back. A tiny hope was beginning to bud within her — why would a Slytherin boy be talking to her, unless...
Blaise took a quill from his pocket and wrote something on a slip of parchment. "My card," he said, handing it to her.
The hopeful bud blossomed, and the warmth that had been in her cheeks spread over her entire body as Colleen read the two sentences in the well-known handwriting of her Secret Admirer.
I am at your command, my lady. Will you favor me with your company at the Yule Ball?
She raised her eyes to his and smiled. "Yes," she said simply. "Yes, I will."
His answering smile was warm and just a trifle hesitant, as if he didn’t smile often. "Thank you," he said. "I know no one with whom I would rather go."
Colleen looked down at her robes. "Thank you," she said. "I should go, I was going to work on Professor Flitwick’s essay today, the one about the Banishing Charm..."
"Do you work better alone, or might you like some company?"
"I... don’t know," Colleen confessed. "I usually work alone."
"Would you be willing to try working with someone else?"
"Why not."
xXxXx
In the library, Hermione looked up from her Transfiguration homework as loud voices sounded in the hall.
"...related to the Summoning Charm, then?"
"It’s not, not in any genetic way. They just happen to be opposites."
"I don’t think so. Things don’t just happen to be opposites. They have to be related somehow."
"No, they don’t. I think it’s more likely related to the Reductor Curse. A watered-down version, maybe..."
"Hush!" Madam Pince’s voice. "People are trying to work here!"
"Sorry," said a boy’s voice.
"Sorry," a girl echoed quietly.
Hermione frowned. Is that Colleen? And she’s not alone...
She peered around the end of the bookshelf she sat behind, and her eyes widened. Quickly, she pulled her head back in.
I don’t think I’ll be telling anyone about this.
For one thing, who’d believe me?
xXxXx
Draco stood at the window in the boys’ dorm, staring off towards Hogsmeade. Luna had left for home that morning. He couldn’t believe he missed her already.
The door creaked open behind him. The footsteps were Harry’s. "Bored?" he said without turning around.
"I guess." A cushioned whump, like something heavy falling onto a bed. "You?"
"Mmm."
Silence.
"So when did you ask Ginny to the ball?"
"Couple weeks ago. When Luna told me she couldn’t go."
A creak, and rustling, as Harry turned over. "Why Ginny?"
"Why not?"
"Well, why not someone else?"
"What other good girl friends do I have?" Draco looked over at his brother. "I’m not about to go asking my own sister to the ball, even if she wasn’t going with someone else. So with Luna gone home, Ginny’s it."
"So did you ever stop to think about me?"
"Why should I stop to think about you?"
Harry sat up. "Maybe because I need a partner more than you do?"
"Really? Since when?"
"Since I’ll be opening the damned dancing and I don’t even know if Parvati knows the box step!"
"Weren’t looking, huh?"
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Just that we have been having House-wide dancing practices for the last couple of weeks, and if you’d been looking, you would have seen that Parvati dances just fine."
Harry snorted. "Why were you looking at her, then?"
"Boredom. Since apparently I’m not special enough that Meghan asks me to teach her friend how to dance."
"Oh, come off it. You think I was jumping up and down because she asked me to do it?"
Draco raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You didn’t seem to mind all that much."
"It’s called being polite. You should really try it sometime."
"That’s rich, coming from you."
"Excuse me? What did I do?"
"Nothing — nothing at all. You’re just harassing me for asking a girl to the ball, which I was totally within my rights to do, but apparently I should have used my amazing psychic powers and figured out that you wanted to ask her, which, let me point out, you could have done any time this month, if you weren’t busy mooning over a Ravenclaw who’s not only too old for you but probably wouldn’t even care about you if you weren’t famous, whereas Ginny’s your friend and you might have had a good time at the ball with her, but now you’re stuck with half of the giggle brigade and it serves you bloody right!"
Harry was staring at him. "Finished?" he asked after a moment.
"Yeah. I guess."
"Good. Since when does one year’s difference make somebody too old for somebody else? Padfoot’s a year older than Letha, and Moony’s more than that for Danger."
"It’s different when the girl’s older than the guy. Don’t ask me how. It just is."
"And how do you know Cho wouldn’t care about me if I weren’t famous?"
"Why do you think she would?"
Harry got to his feet. "I don’t have to sit here and listen to you insult me."
"I wasn’t insulting you!"
"You’re doing a damn good job for not doing it!"
"You call that a good job? I’ll show you a good job! You’re too stupid to see what’s right in front of your nose, you and Ron both! I hope you have a miserable time and trip over your own feet right in front of everyone! In fact, I might take a second and arrange that for you..."
Harry’s wand was in his hand. "Just try it."
"If you insist." Draco grabbed for his own wand, dodged Harry’s spell, and came up with a jinx already on his lips.
The magical portion of the duel lasted about a minute and a half, ending when Harry ricocheted a Disarmer off the mirror and caught Draco in the back with it. Draco turned the blow into a forward shoulder roll, thus both avoiding Harry’s Body-Bind and catching Harry off guard, forcing him to retreat a few steps, off-balance for the moment. An upward thrust of the elbow sent Harry’s wand flying, and the battle became purely a physical one.
Something settled over Draco as they grappled — a cool, calculating feeling, which seemed to slow time by just a fraction, so that he could see Harry’s moves and react to them properly. It was as easy as a first year spell to catch Harry’s arm as it went by, easy to grasp it between his two hands and pull to bring the other boy off balance, easy to maintain his grip as Harry went down, letting the other’s weight do the work for him —
A sharp snap, Harry’s yell of pain, and the crash of the opening door all flooded his ears at once as the world snapped into real time again. Ron, Seamus, Neville, and Dean charged into the room, talking over each other.
"—quintapeds fighting up here—"
"—the hell you’re doing—"
"—place is a bloody mess—"
"—broken wrist, what happened—"
"Nothing," Harry said, very pale and holding his left arm against his chest with his right. "Nothing, we were just roughhousing, and I fell on my arm wrong. It’s not too bad, I’ll go to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey’s seen worse..."
"Yeah, always on you," said Ron, then shot Draco a curious look. "You all right?"
"Fine." Draco met Ron’s eyes for one moment, then looked away. "I’m fine."
"Then you get to clean the place up," said Seamus, bending down to pick up one of the books that had fallen from his bed in the course of Harry and Draco’s fight. "I had these all organized, too..."
"Organized in piles, mate," Dean said. "And you shifted them every night so you could go to bed."
"So? At least I knew where they were."
"Yeah, right under all the other ones..." Their voices faded as they went down the stairs after Harry and Ron. Neville was still standing in the doorway, looking at the mess in the room.
"What?" Draco said curtly, bending to pick up Seamus’ books.
Neville shrugged. "Nothing," he said. "You know where I live."
"Yeah, I know where you live. Same place I live. Right here. Summer, too, for a while." Draco dropped an armload of books on Seamus’ bed. "I’m not stupid."
"I didn’t say you were. Do you want help with this?"
"No."
"Fine." Neville turned to go.
"Wait." Draco bit down hard on his pride and swallowed as Neville turned around again. "Can you find my wand for me? I don’t know where it went."
Neville nodded and drew his own. "Accio wand," he said, and caught the two which hurtled from different corners of the room.
"That one’s mine," said Draco, pointing to the one on the left. "The other one’s Harry’s."
Neville tossed over the designated wand. "I’ll get it back to him."
"Thanks."
The door closed behind Neville. Draco stared at it for a moment, then went back to work, straightening and tidying mechanically.
His mind was spinning in smaller and smaller circles. What did I do... what did I do...
Well, what did you do?
He let a small smile come to his lips. Great, now I have an inner Luna. That’s just the kind of question she’d ask. All right, let’s ask it. What did I do?
I fought with Harry. Not so bad, in and of itself. Not as if it hasn’t happened before.
We made a mess. Again, not like it’s so unusual.
But when we got close... when it turned into a physical fight...
It was like I forgot who he was, or who I was. It didn’t even matter who he was — just that he was my enemy. And I hurt him without meaning to. It didn’t bother me. It was just... what I had to do to win the fight. So I did it.
He stared down at his hands. Could I do that to someone else? Someone who can’t defend himself, or doesn’t want to fight with me? Could I become that uncaring all the time?
He didn’t know.
When everything was picked up, he climbed onto his own bed, carefully placing his wand on his nightstand. Pulling the curtains shut around himself, he curled up into a ball around his lion and closed his eyes.
I am not a bad person, he tried to tell himself. I made a mistake. That doesn’t make me a bad person.
But he couldn’t forget the pleasure that defeating Harry had given him. He had seemed to know by instinct the angle which would snap the bone — and when it had snapped, his whole body had thrilled for one second, a physical rush like that which overtook him when he kissed Luna —
No! God, no, no, that’s so wrong... Draco rubbed his hands back and forth on the bedspread, wishing he could scrape the skin off them, could scrape off every part of him which had enjoyed hurting Harry...
His mind jumped back in time, back to his second year, to the Quidditch match at which Harry had almost died. I felt this way then too. When Ron attacked me. And I didn’t just want him to stop hurting me — I wanted to hurt him. And I wanted to hurt him badly. Moony had to stop me.
His Pack-father’s words came back to him now. He said that everyone has parts of themselves they don’t like. The trick is controlling yourself.
But how am I supposed to control myself when Harry comes in here looking for a fight, then disarms me so we have to go hand-to-hand — he should’ve known, he shouldn’t have started it...
He growled under his breath. That’s right. It’s all Harry’s fault. He made me break his wrist.
Then he couldn’t keep from laughing at the absurdity of that statement.
Can I be truthful to myself at least, please? Harry didn’t make me do anything. He provoked me, but I didn’t have to rise to it. And he covered for me. He could just as easily have told them all the truth, and then they’d hate me or think I’m a mad delinquent. As it is, it’s down to an accident.
But Harry knows. He saw. He felt it. I have to talk to him, I have to apologize...
But how can I, when I’m not even sure I won’t do it again? His mind seized the thought and flew with it. I might be dangerous. It might not be safe for me to be here. What if I start hurting people every time they say something rude to me, or do something I don’t like? What if I can’t control myself anymore? What if... what if...
He pressed his face against his lion’s fur. What if a pig sprouts wings and pisses on my head? I can control myself. I just need not to get into any fights. Nothing like this has ever happened when we spar — maybe because I know it’s just a practice then? This was for real, a real fight, and I lost it. So I’ll have to be more careful, and not let myself lose my temper over anything. Especially not over stupid little things like this.
And I do have to apologize.
Maybe tonight at den.
xXxXx
"So Hermione, who’re you going to the ball with?" Ron asked casually at dinner on Christmas Eve.
Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, Ron, not telling. You’d only laugh and say I was making it up."
"Would not!"
"Then wait till tomorrow and see for yourself."
"Will I be the only first year there?" Meghan asked, taking a roll from the basket in the middle of the table.
"Probably," said Harry. "Do you mind?"
"Not really. Just wondering. Natalie said she would have liked to go, but I think she’s just as happy to go home, really. She missed her family."
"And what about Graham?" said Ginny.
"He said he’d spend the holidays finding out if there was any way to organize a ball for the students again in a few years." Meghan grinned. "I think he really likes Natalie."
"He seems awfully old for eleven," said Neville, serving himself some turnips and passing the bowl to Meghan.
"His parents expect a lot out of him. He’s their only son. Pass the sugar, please?"
"Well, whoever he is, will he share?" Ron was asking Hermione.
"Share?"
"Will he let you dance with other blokes?"
"I don’t know. Probably, if I want to. Why?"
"Because I might maybe like to dance with you?"
Harry winced. And of course, he says it good and loud into a dead silence...
Ron went crimson. "Just forget it," he muttered as the rest of the Hall resumed talking. "Never mind."
Hermione frowned. "Do you not want to, then?"
"I... just forget it, all right?"
"No, it’s not all right. Do you want to dance with me or not?"
Staring at the table, Ron nodded.
"Then I’ll make sure to save one for you. Was that so hard?"
"Ask his ears," said Ginny. "If they get much hotter, we could use him as a broom defroster."
"Oh, bugger off," Ron grumbled. "Where’s your boyfriend, anyway?"
"We’re going to the ball together. That doesn’t make him my boyfriend. And I don’t know where Draco’s got to. Harry?"
"Haven’t seen him. He’s been really quiet lately."
"You think he misses Luna?" said Neville. "It seems kind of odd he’d take it so hard, but that’s all I can think of."
"He’s unhappy about something, but I don’t think it’s Luna," said Meghan. "He didn’t want to spar at den-night, and he hasn’t come out to play in the snow at all. Hermione, do you know?"
Hermione shook her head. "He hasn’t said anything to me."
But Harry caught the waft of unease in her scent, and saw her hand move quickly to her lap, where he was sure she’d crossed her fingers. Hermione knew something, but why make her tell? He knew something himself, and was keeping it to himself. Draco deserved some time to work out whatever was bothering him alone.
xXxXx
Draco sat on his bed, rereading the letter he’d received that morning.
Dear Fox,
We’ll start with the usual things. Yes, we love you, no, you’re not a bad person, and no, you’re not in trouble. You make enough trouble for yourself.
You seem to have a pretty decent hold on the situation already, Draco. You know what happened — you were in a fight and you lost control. You know what you’re going to do about it — avoid fighting. All well and good. But sometimes you have to fight. What then?
Padfoot says, "Make sure the person you’re fighting deserves it." I have smacked him, but he has a good point. I trust you not to get into any unnecessary fights. Remember, too, that fights may look necessary from where you are, and not from where someone else is.
For the time being, I think this should be enough. Though it isn’t much — reading back through this, we don’t seem to have given you any advice you couldn’t have worked out on your own. I hope that our good wishes, and our love, help as much as we want them to. And may I reiterate: You are not a bad person. Harry’s obviously forgiven you, so please try to forgive yourself, and we’ll see you at the second task. Much love.
Danger
Moony
Padfoot
Letha
Draco smiled, then folded the letter, tucked it into his pocket, and got up to go downstairs for some dinner. He had a ball to go to tomorrow.
xXxXx
"Hermione’s been inside since five o’clock," Ron said as he shut the dormitory door. "Five o’clock! What the hell takes that long? Combing out each hair by hand?"
"Well, she does have a lot of hair," said Draco. "Where’s your dress robes?"
"Right there." Ron nodded at the parcel on the end of his bed. "She wrapped them up for me. I haven’t had a chance to look at them."
"Now might be a good time," said Harry, opening his wardrobe.
Ron, nothing loath, attacked the parcel and shook out the robes, then gaped. "I don’t believe it," he said, holding them up at arm’s length. "They look... they look..."
"Yes?" prompted Neville.
"They look normal!" Ron shook out the robes, black and white like everyone else’s, with the neat pleats in the white front and the bow tie at the neck. "I don’t know how she did it — she’s a genius!"
Harry turned away to hide his smile.
xXxXx
Parvati and Lavender were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Parvati wore pink, with gold bangles on her wrists and a matching gold thread twisted through her hair. Lavender’s robes were light purple, as was the huge butterfly posed in her coiffure.
"You look very nice," said Harry, giving Parvati a slight bow.
She giggled a bit. "Thank you. So do you."
"Er, nice robes," said Ron awkwardly to Lavender. "And I like the thing. In your hair."
"Oh, do you? My mum made it for me, it took her ages to match the material..."
"Have you seen Hermione?" Ron interrupted.
Lavender looked piqued, but answered. "No, she left a while ago."
"I think whoever she’s going with is from another House," Parvati added. "She wouldn’t tell us anything."
"Wow," said Lavender, looking over Ron’s shoulder. "Your sister’s really pretty tonight, Ron."
Harry turned to look. Ginny was descending the stairs, the skirts of her navy blue robes held up in front of her so that she didn’t trip on them. Three lines of ivory-colored lace traced her collar and her waistline, and more lace fell at her wrists. Her hair was coiled on top of her head and held there with carved ornaments of white wood, and she wore a torque and earrings to match them.
"You’re staring at my partner," Draco muttered from beside him.
"Aren’t you?"
"Yes. I didn’t know she was going to look like that." A slight sigh. "I wonder what Luna would have looked like."
"You’ll see Luna in dress robes sometime."
"Hope so. You look beautiful," said Draco as Ginny reached them. "I may have to fight off other boys who want to dance with you."
"You’d better not fight them all off," said Ginny. "I might want to dance with a few of them."
"Well, if you want to, then I won’t. Are we waiting for anyone?"
"If Hermione already left, then there’s just Meghan," said Harry.
"She’s over there," said Ginny, nodding in the right direction. "She’s waiting for Neville."
"Huh?" Ron looked around. "Didn’t he come down with us?"
"No, he had something he had to finish," said Draco. "Her corsage, I think..."
"Shouldn’t we go down?" Parvati said. "Don’t you have to open the dance, Harry?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Let’s go. They’ll catch up."
His leaving seemed to be the signal for everyone else to go as well.
xXxXx
Neville came out of the boys’ dorm and closed the door behind him. The common room was empty...
No, not quite empty. She was there, waiting for him off to one side. He couldn’t see much in the dim light, but he knew it had to be her.
He descended the stairs, heart pounding unaccountably. It was only a dance, and he knew how to do that. And this was Meghan. His friend Meghan. There was nothing for him to be nervous about.
Then she stepped into the firelight, and took his breath away.
Her robes seemed to be cloth-of-gold, for they shimmered with every step she took, every breath. Her braids were beaded, not with her usual bright colors, but with mother-of-pearl orbs, and she wore a pearl pendant and earrings. When she’d said she was dressing in white and gold, he hadn’t thought of this...
"For you," he said, holding out the corsage.
Meghan beamed. "It’s perfect," she said, then frowned. "No, not quite. Not yet."
Neville felt his stomach sink. What had he done, or not done, that made it wrong?
Meghan accepted the tiny bouquet of white sweetheart rosebuds, tied about with gold ribbon, and gently teased one out of its place, bunching the others so that no one would know any had been removed. "Come here," she said, and tucked the rosebud into Neville’s buttonhole. "There. Now it’s perfect."
Neville’s smile seemed to stretch beyond his face as Meghan pressed the corsage to her robes, where it clung.
It was time to go to the ball.
xXxXx
Blaise waited nervously in the entrance hall, watching the marble staircase. The Ravenclaws had come down already, and the Hufflepuffs were here... where were the Gryffindors?
Oh, here they come. Harry Potter, predictably, was in the lead, with one of the Patil twins (Blaise could never keep them straight) on his arm. Ron Weasley was just behind him with Lavender Brown, and Draco Black with Ginny Weasley. The rest of the House followed, in pairs and singles, pouring down the stairs to meet friends or partners...
And suddenly, the marble staircase was clear, all save for one slim figure at the top.
"Excuse me," Blaise muttered, pushing his way forward, to be at the bottom of the stairs where she could see him. "Excuse me, pardon me, sorry..."
She’s shy, she’ll be scared to death, I have to help her...
He wormed his way between a Ravenclaw couple and an indignant Hufflepuff girl and looked up again, and felt his mouth go dry. Colleen might have been carved from the same marble as the staircase. Her robes, a rich green, were cut simply to emphasize her height and figure. Her nut-brown hair was dressed very simply, leaving much of it free to flow down her back. Tigers’ eyes gleamed in her ears and at her throat.
Her eyes moved, falling on him, and for the first time she smiled. It looked stiff, but he knew that wasn’t because of him. He beckoned her closer, and she gathered her skirts in one hand and descended the stairs carefully. "These shoes are horrid," she whispered when she was close enough. "I keep thinking I’m going to fall."
"Here." Blaise offered her his arm. "Now you won’t. Oh, this is for you." He drew the corsage box from his pocket and opened it.
"You remembered," Colleen breathed, staring in wonder at the miniature white lily.
"How could I forget?"
xXxXx
I will murder you and hide the body, Harry signed to Draco. Why didn’t you tell me she was going with Krum?
Would you have believed me?
"What are you doing?" Parvati asked curiously.
"Um, just asking Draco something. We have a sort of sign language we made up."
"Wow. What are you asking him?"
"Nothing important." Harry regarded his sister, who was laughing at something Krum had said to her. Her hair was shiny and straighter than he had ever seen it, except when they were little and in hiding in Devon. He’d seen her robes before, but not on her — they were a pale periwinkle blue, and seemed to involve a lot of layers, all of which were diaphanous by themselves, but put together became opaque. She was also holding herself differently than usual, and after a moment Harry placed it. It was the stance she took when they were sparring, hand to hand or with the staffs.
I guess she sees this as a battle...
Many of the other girls in the school certainly seemed to think so. As people passed by on their way into the Great Hall, girls gave Hermione looks of hatred, then looked again in surprise as they recognized her, then glared over their shoulders as they entered the hall with their partners.
Hope she doesn’t get fallout from this.
On Professor McGonagall’s order, the champions and their partners lined up in pairs — Harry’s heart did a loop-the-loop as he watched Cho take Cedric’s arm — and processed into the Great Hall to the sound of everyone else’s applause. Harry could have done without this, but he supposed it was part of being a champion, like asking a girl to the ball.
The Hall certainly looked Christmasy. The ice sculptures and rosebushes out front were impressive, but the walls here were covered in silver frost, in which lovely pictures had been melted (though Harry could see one that wasn’t so lovely, and he suspected Peeves had been at it), and garlands of ivy and mistletoe were woven from the rafters, so that he could only barely see the starry ceiling above.
Looking around, he spotted the rest of the Pride, who had taken over one of the small round tables which had replaced the House tables. Draco, Ginny, Neville, and Meghan all waved as he looked at them. Ron’s eyes were narrowed as he watched Hermione pass, and Lavender was looking from one to the other of them suspiciously. Harry swallowed. He wasn’t looking forward to after the ball.
The top table, where they were headed, already had several people sitting at it — Dumbledore in his holiday best, Ludo Bagman in bright purple robes emblazoned with yellow stars, Professor Karkaroff looking rather sullen in white robes and fur, Madame Maxime in flowing lavender silk and opals, and —
"Percy?" he said in surprise.
"Hello, Harry," said Percy Weasley in as close to a friendly tone as he ever got. "Sit with me? Hello, Parvati."
"Hello," said Parvati, hurrying up the steps to the dais. "What are you doing here? I thought you worked at the Ministry now."
"I do. I’m Mr. Crouch’s personal assistant."
"Since when?" said Harry, pulling out a chair for Parvati — he’d been tempted to give her the one next to Percy, but thought that would probably be rude.
"I was promoted a few weeks ago. Mr. Crouch has been ill, so most of the work in the office devolves on me." Percy sighed. "It’s a heavy burden, but one I’m glad to bear..."
Dumbledore, at the head of the table, cleared his throat gently, and Percy fell silent.
The house-elves must be going crazy downstairs, Harry thought, getting everyone’s meals together as they ordered them. Fleetingly he wondered when Ron would be giving Mrs. Weasley her Christmas gift...
"Viktor, you must introduce me to your friend," Karkaroff was saying.
"Gladly, sir. Professor, Miss..." Krum frowned. "Herm-own-ninny... no, that is not correct."
"It’s fine," said Hermione, blushing a bit. "Hermione Granger-Lupin, Professor. Pleased to meet you."
"Granger-Lupin... ah, of course." Karkaroff held onto Hermione’s hand for a long moment, looking into her eyes. "Your picture was never published in the newspaper, I believe."
"I... my guardians didn’t want it."
"And yet your face is enchantingly familiar." Karkaroff peered closely at Hermione. "Did I know your mother, perhaps?"
"I don’t think so, sir. She was a Muggle."
"Was? Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t know. But there, I should have, if the trouble in your family was about guardians — I’m so glad that came out happily for you."
"Perhaps you haff seen her sister, Professor," suggested Krum. "Herm-own-ninny has an older sister, enough older that she is sometimes taken for her mother."
"Yes, that could be it." Karkaroff shrugged it off. "So how did you meet Miss Granger-Lupin, Viktor?"
Krum smiled. "She has great skill with a staff, sir. She can handle our staffs, and when we haff sparred, I do not find it easy to beat her."
Karkaroff’s eyes opened. "My dear, what a great compliment — Viktor is one of our best staffmen, you know. He wouldn’t tell you that lightly."
"Thank you," said Hermione, blushing and looking down at her chicken and roast potatoes.
Dumbledore entertained everyone with an anecdote about taking a wrong turn on his way to the bathroom and finding a room filled with chamber pots. Percy seemed disapproving, but Harry was almost certain Dumbledore had winked at him.
"What do you do at the Ministry?" Parvati asked Percy over Harry’s head.
"Well, as I said, I’m Mr. Crouch’s personal assistant. He’s the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, so you can imagine it’s a very big job. Coordinating events like this, making sure imports and exports are properly handled, dealing with immigration and tourism..."
Percy continued for several minutes in this vein. Harry tuned him out to listen to Fleur Delacour, who seemed less than happy with the contents of her plate.
"Zis ‘Ogwarts food is all too ‘eavy," she said, pushing away her half-finished baked fish. "And ze decorations are primitive. At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, zere are sculptures of ice everywhere at Chreestmas. Zey glitter and catch ze light, and it is like eating inside a palace of diamond. We ‘ave no ugly armor, and all ze portraits are pleasant and ‘elpful. And we ‘ave no poltergeist as you ‘ave ‘ere." She frowned. "It would not be allowed."
"Yeah," said Roger Davies, Fleur’s partner and the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He hadn’t eaten much, mostly because he’d been too busy staring at Fleur to remember where his fork went. "Not allowed. Shouldn’t be."
When dinner was over, Dumbledore cleared the floor of tables and conjured up a stage for the band. The lanterns on the tables went out as the Weird Sisters entered the hall (to raucous applause), and Harry realized the moment of truth had come.
"Would you like to dance?" he said to Parvati.
She smiled. "Yes, please."
Luckily, Draco’s estimation had been correct — Parvati was a good dancer, and Harry found himself able to lead her around the floor without much trouble. Silently, he blessed all those hours Moony had spent firmly planting his hands and feet in the right positions relative to Hermione.
Hermione, meanwhile, was revolving in Krum’s arms as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Ron kept looking over Lavender’s shoulder at her. Lavender seemed to sense this, as she was trying to keep Ron’s back to Hermione and Krum at all times. Since Ron wanted to see them at all times, this led to some interesting dance maneuvers.
Draco and Ginny were moving well enough together, though Harry could tell from the way Draco’s hands kept moving out of their proper positions that he was thinking of a differently-proportioned girl. Ginny was patiently correcting him every time.
And Neville and Meghan... well, Harry had his first mishap of the night when Parvati stopped abruptly as they danced by, causing Harry to step on her toes. She didn’t seem to notice. "Is that Neville Longbottom?" she said in amazement.
"Yes."
"And Meghan Black — why did he ask her, anyway?" Parvati resumed dancing in response to Harry’s lead. "Couldn’t he get anyone else?"
Now Harry stopped in surprise. He had never thought that Neville’s asking Meghan to the ball would be seen that way. "No, it wasn’t that. He just didn’t want to ask anyone else. He’s been friends with Meghan for years. They like each other a lot."
"I can tell." Parvati nudged Harry, and they started moving again. "I was wondering why she was coming to the dance lessons; it’s not like she needs them. Your guardians taught you how, didn’t they?"
Harry nodded. "It was part of our school time when we were little. I learned to dance with Hermione, and Draco learned with Meghan..."
Cho revolved by, laughing at something Cedric was saying, and Harry missed Parvati’s toe by a hair. "Sorry," he muttered, and paid better attention to the dance.
When the song was over, Harry started for the tables at the side of the room, but Parvati looked at him in amazement. "You’re not tired already, are you?"
"I... well..." Harry gritted his teeth briefly, then smiled. "No, but how about after one more we sit one out?"
"All right." Parvati smiled brightly as the Weird Sisters struck up a faster song, and held out her hand for Harry to take. Luckily (from Harry’s perspective), they were nearly run over by Hagrid and Madame Maxime, who were doing a surprisingly graceful two-step for their size, and they only avoided being clobbered by Fred and Angelina by crashing into George and Alicia, so Parvati was just as happy to sit down at the end of the second song.
Harry took advantage of getting drinks to check his watch, and groaned. It was only nine-thirty. They had two and a half more hours of this.
Grin and bear it, Harry, grin and bear it.
Lavender was steering Ron firmly around the floor, chattering non-stop to keep his eyes on her and not Hermione. Harry’s eyes followed Cho and Cedric along their graceful route, in and out of the other couples — Cedric danced well, he had to admit, and Cho was just as graceful on the floor as she was on a broom. He spent a few moments imagining that he, and not Cedric, was out there twirling Cho, in her black and white satin...
Draco and Ginny crossed his view, and he watched them for a little while. He’d danced with Ginny before, in lessons and at parties, but never at a ball. Suddenly he made up his mind. He was going to dance with every girl in the Pride who was present at least once tonight. That would give Parvati a chance at some other partners, and let him talk to his friends for a little while.
And I might just have some fun tonight.
Accordingly, he caught Neville’s eye as the music ended and beckoned him over. "May I steal your lovely partner for the next dance?" he asked when Neville and Meghan had joined him and Parvati. "If you don’t mind, of course," he added to Parvati.
"May I dance with you if he does?" Neville asked her promptly.
"Um... well... sure!" Parvati looked a bit flustered. Meghan had a hand over her mouth, stifling giggles. Harry grinned. Parvati would learn how the Pride handled things eventually.
The band played the introduction to Magic Circle as Harry led Meghan onto the floor. "Remember this one, Pearl?" he said.
"How could I forget? When Draco busked and I danced at the World Cup."
"Ron!" Harry called, waving at his friend. "Over here!"
"Thanks a lot," Ron muttered in his ear as the figure began. "I was going to go sit down."
"You’ll be fine for one more," Harry answered before the pattern took them apart.
In and out, around and through, bow and curtsey, the dance swirled. The bagpipe played the special high trills that meant the circles should break up and reform, and to Harry’s surprise, he discovered Cho in front of him. "Having a good time?" he said as he bowed.
"Oh, it’s lovely." Cho’s cheeks were flushed as she straightened from her curtsey. "I love dancing, don’t you?"
"Sometimes." The figure separated them for a moment.
"When do you like it best?" Cho asked when they were together again.
Harry decided to take a chance. "Times like right now."
They separated again, and came back together. "Why now?"
"Because of my partner."
The high trills sounded again, and Harry caught Meghan’s hand and moved on to the next circle, hoping Cho hadn’t seen the blush staining his face, knowing she probably had.
I think I just made a fool of myself...
"Cedric said I was a good dancer," Meghan said proudly. "And he admired my robes."
"Good," Harry mumbled as the music began to wind down. "Great."
He checked his watch again. Nine-forty.
All right, I was wrong. This night is going to be really long.
Harry returned to his seat, where Parvati was waiting for him, looking rather hot. "I’ve never done it that fast before," she said, taking a large gulp of her butterbeer. "Can we sit another one out?"
"Fine with me," Harry said, sitting down. "Here’s your partner back, Cap’n."
"Thank you, matey." Neville grinned.
Ron came out of the crowd, trailing Lavender by one hand. "Look, you go dance with someone else if you want," he said, sitting down firmly. "I’m not dancing any more right now. I might not dance any more the rest of the night."
Lavender swelled with indignation.
"Lavender, may I have this dance?" Neville said quickly.
Lavender deflated so rapidly it looked like she’d been pricked with a pin. "Of course." She cast a poisonous glance at Ron as Neville led her away.
Harry checked over his shoulder to make sure Parvati was all right — she was chatting with Meghan about something or other — then scooted over next to Ron. "What is wrong with you?" he hissed.
"Wrong with me? Harry, look at that!" Ron pointed at the floor, where Hermione and Krum were taking their positions for another dance. "Look at her! She’s... she’s fraternizing with the enemy!"
"The enemy?"
"He’s from Durmstrang! He’s another champion! He’s probably trying to use her to get to you — you watch and see if he doesn’t try to talk to you tonight, ask you questions — he has to know she’s your sister, or at least your friend, you go everywhere with her, that has to be why he asked her..."
"Or maybe," said Harry firmly, cutting off Ron’s tirade, "he asked her because he saw her practicing her staffwork and was really impressed."
Ron stared at him. "What?"
"That’s what he said over dinner. I think they practice with staffs as part of the classes there, like flying lessons here. He said Hermione’s tried out those special staffs that they used the first night here, and they’ve sparred some."
Ron glowered at the distant couple. "That’s even worse," he said darkly. "That means she’s probably been aboard their ship — in the heart of enemy territory..."
"Spying for our side, if you want to put it like that," said Harry. He was beginning to lose patience with his friend. "Look, Lavender’s your partner. I know she wasn’t your first choice, or your second, but she’s your partner. You don’t have to dance every dance with her, but maybe you shouldn’t be rude."
"And maybe you should keep out of my business."
"You keep on like this, I don’t think Hermione’s going to want to dance with you."
"Well, fine. Maybe I don’t want to dance with her either."
"Ha. You haven’t stopped looking at her since we got in here..." Harry stopped. "Look, I don’t want to row with you," he said. "Not on Christmas. Can we at least try to stay friends until the ball’s over?"
Ron sagged in his chair. "Fine," he muttered. "She keeps laughing at what he’s saying..."
"Stop looking at them," said Harry. "You’re just going to drive yourself mad. Do you want to dance with Parvati once? I’ll take Lavender if you do."
"Nah... Lavender’s not so bad, really." Ron flexed his feet. "She talks a lot, but she can really move, you know? I don’t mind her. She just wanted to keep going, and my feet hurt."
"So next time, tell her that, instead of dragging her off the floor," Harry said. "Or come find me or Neville, or Draco. We’d take her for one dance if you were too tired."
"I get the point, already." Ron punched Harry’s shoulder. "You can shut up now."
xXxXx
Around ten o’clock, Blaise led Colleen off the floor. "Wait here," he said, and slipped up the Hall toward the stage.
Colleen sipped at the butterbeer he’d brought her when they’d stopped a bit earlier. Oh, Mum, I wish you could see me, she thought dizzily. Dad, I wish you knew... you will, soon enough, but I wish you knew right now...
Her sister Maggie went by in the arms of another Ravenclaw, both of them eyeing her coolly. She waved and smiled — tonight, she didn’t care what her sister thought was proper or improper. She was at a ball, with a boy who thought she was wonderful, and she was having the time of her life.
And here he comes again. Colleen patted her hair, making sure it was in place, and eased her feet in their shoes. They were a little sore, but luckily Blaise had been able to show her a spell to make sure they would stay on her feet.
"Feel up to dancing again?" he asked her as he drew near.
"Of course." Colleen set her butterbeer aside and stood up. "Were you asking them if the next song will be fast or slow?"
"You could say that." Blaise smiled. "It’s a funny one. It feels fast, but it’s best for slow dancing..."
"Now here’s a little import from across the pond," said the lead singer into his microphone as the Weird Sisters got ready around him. "Any Irish ladies in the house ought to appreciate this one."
The guitarist played a little riff, and the song began. Colleen felt Blaise’s hand at her waist, his other hand around hers, and began to sway with him in the rhythms of the slow two-step.
But then the lyrics began, and she missed a beat.
Colleen was sitting all alone
Over by the steel stove
Waiting in the corner of a smoky bar...
"You asked for this," Colleen breathed, looking up at Blaise. "Didn’t you?"
Blaise nodded, his smile a bit uncertain. "Do you like it?"
"Oh, it’s perfect. It’s beautiful."
They danced without speaking until the singer came to the bridge.
Hang on Colleen
Things are not what they seem to be
You’re not alone
Someone cares...
"I know," Colleen whispered. "I know someone cares."
She leaned forward and laid her lips gently against Blaise’s.
xXxXx
Draco checked his watch over Ginny’s shoulder. Ten-thirty.
"Bored?" she said without missing a step.
"No. Not really. Just wondering."
"Okay. Just asking."
The singer on stage curled his face into a mask of sorrow.
Christmas without you, it’s hitting home, I’m all alone
Christmas without you, so unfamiliar
"How uplifting," Draco muttered.
Christmas without the love we shared, a little much to bear,
This Christmas
"I’m sorry," said Ginny. "Do you want to go sit down?"
"No, I’m fine."
At least you left the lights, okay, half, probably the ones that blink
Where are you tonight?
The singer’s voice soared in a stylized wail on the last word. Draco clenched his teeth and told himself that there was absolutely no way the song had been chosen to bother him — he wasn’t nearly that important...
"Draco." Ginny’s voice cut into his thoughts. She was smiling. "Turn around."
Puzzled, he started to turn in the steps of the dance, but she let him go and stepped back, twirling her finger to indicate how he should turn.
Why would she want me to... oh no. It can’t be...
Heart pounding louder than the drums, he turned.
A princess stood in the doorway of the Great Hall. Her robes seemed to float on the breeze coming in through the doors. Her hair was a river of sunlight spilling down her back. The silvery stuff of her dress could have been woven from the waning moon, and the stones in her tiara and necklace sparkled like stars.
He took one enchanted step forward, then remembered his duty and looked back over his shoulder, torn.
"Go on," Ginny said, and enforced it with a gentle shove in the small of his back. Draco stumbled forward, then found his feet and wove automatically through the dancers, his eyes fixed on the vision by the door. She saw him coming, she was smiling — he was almost there, just two more lines of couples to pass — one more —
And then he stood at the edge of the floor, staring at the most beautiful girl in the room, and lost for words.
"Happy Christmas," said Luna, beaming at him. "I have something for you."
Draco shook his head. "You don’t have to give me anything," he said breathlessly, taking the last few steps to her side. "You’re here — I thought you weren’t coming..."
"I had my Christmas with Dad. And I’ll go home again tomorrow. But I thought you’d like it if I came. Here." She handed him a sprig of greenery. "Guaranteed nargle-free."
Draco looked down at it, then up at Luna. One of these days I am going to have to teach you about subtlety...
But what the hell, it’s Christmas.
He twined the mistletoe sprig into her tiara and took full advantage.
xXxXx
Ginny made her way off the floor, watching Draco and Luna. They seemed unaware of anything except each other.
I wonder if anyone will ever look at me like that...
"You’ve been abandoned," said a voice by her ear.
Ginny jumped and spun. "Harry! You scared me, don’t do that!"
"Sorry. Butterbeer?" Harry offered her a bottle.
"Thanks. Where’s Parvati?"
"Her sister introduced her to this boy from Beauxbatons, and they’ve really hit it off." Harry grinned. "So we’re in the same boat."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "As if you’ll be abandoned for long. Why aren’t girls begging you to dance?"
Harry looked alarmed. "They probably will, won’t they? I’d better hurry and get a partner for the next song before they start queuing up. Would you like to dance?"
Ginny sat on her first reaction — Yesyesyesyesyesyesyes! — and made a face at him. "Well, if you’re sure you can’t find anyone better..."
"Not on short notice," said Harry, matching her face.
They both laughed. "Yes, I’ll dance with you," Ginny said, arching her back to stretch it. "But at the song after this. My feet hurt."
"I could use a rest myself. The song after this, then."
"That sounds good to me."
xXxXx
At eleven o’clock, Ron waved Harry over. "Would you dance with Lavender once?" he asked. "Please?"
"You’re going for Hermione?"
"She did promise."
"All right. Good luck."
"Thanks." Ron plucked up his courage and started across the room.
"Hello, Ron," said Hermione as he got close. She turned to her partner. "Viktor, I want you to meet a good friend of mine, Ron Weasley. Ron, this is Viktor Krum."
Ron found himself in a dilemma. On the one hand, this was Viktor Krum, one of the greatest Quidditch players in the world. On the other hand, this was one of Harry’s competitors in the tournament, and the bloke who had asked Hermione to the ball...
I said I’d be polite. "Pleased to meet you," he said, shaking Krum’s hand. Part of his mind went wild with excitement, while the other part wanted to try to squash Krum’s fingers.
"I am pleased to meet any friend of Herm-own-ninny," said Krum solemnly.
Ron snorted before he could help himself. Krum frowned.
"I think Ron wants to ask me to dance, Viktor," said Hermione hastily. "I did promise him one dance tonight, you don’t mind, do you?"
"No, not at all," said Krum, sitting down with a suspicious look at Ron.
"What was that for?" Hermione hissed as she seized Ron’s hand and led him onto the dance floor.
"Is that how he says your name?"
"Don’t laugh at him — I’m sure you’d sound stupid speaking Bulgarian, you certainly manage well enough with English..."
Ron bit his lip before he shot back at her. "It’s Christmas," he said. "Let’s not row, all right?"
Hermione stared at him as the music began. "All right," she said, taking his hand. "We won’t."
It might have been his imagination, Ron thought, but she seemed to have just a trace of admiration in her eyes as she looked at him. Imagination or not, he rather liked it.
xXxXx
Harry slipped outside for a breath of air at eleven-thirty, and caught the sound of explosions and raised voices in the rose garden. Curious, he hurried that way.
"Do not lie to me, Longbottom!" bellowed Snape’s voice. "You and Black were not in that bush to examine its roots!"
"Yes we were too!" shouted Meghan angrily. "What else would we be doing?"
Harry rounded the corner just in time to see Snape turn brick red. "Twenty points from Gryffindor," he said finally, and stalked away.
Harry stared at Neville and Meghan. "What were you doing in the rosebush?" he said.
"Looking at its roots," said Neville, who was a close approximation of Snape’s color.
"Uh-huh."
"Not you, too," said Meghan with a groan.
"Okay, I believe you," said Harry, holding up his hands. "You were looking at its roots. I believe you. I really do."
Neville was rubbing his cheeks, trying to get his color down. "You looking for someone?" he said. "Cedric and Cho went that way." He pointed.
"And I don’t think they’re looking at roots," said Meghan, grinning.
Harry’s mood plummeted fifty feet, and it had only been thirty off the ground to begin with.
This night is starting to feel like riding a runaway broomstick...
xXxXx
The cool night air felt good on Neville’s cheeks. He scooped up a handful of snow to cool them further as Meghan watched Harry go back around the corner towards the castle. "I don’t think we should have said that," she said. "It made him feel bad. Why does he like Cho so much when he barely even knows her?"
Neville shrugged, taking a bite of the snow to cool his mouth off. "Falling in love is a funny thing. Nobody really knows how it happens, or why. It just... happens."
"Do you think Harry’s in love with Cho?" Meghan scooped up some snow of her own.
"I think Harry thinks he’s in love with Cho."
"That’s not what I asked."
"I don’t know. I’m not an expert on love."
"Why not?"
"Well... I’m just not."
Meghan dropped the rest of her snow and dusted her hands. "Would you like to be?"
Something in her tone made Neville look at her again. She was standing a little differently than she had been... yes, one hip was thrust out. And her eyes were half-closed, and her smile was definitely teasing...
One part of him wanted to crawl into the nearest rosebush and start doing what Snape had thought they’d been doing. Meghan certainly seemed willing...
Are you crazy? screamed a larger part of him. She’s eleven!
"Um, I don’t think so. Not like that."
Meghan pouted. "Why not?"
"Because... Snape might come back."
"So we’ll find somewhere else. Like the common room. Or a classroom — no one’s going to be there now. Everyone’s at the ball."
"Don’t you want to go and dance some more?"
"Not right now." Meghan moved closer. "I want to do something else. Something I’ve never done before." She was tilting her head back, her eyes were closed, her lips pursed...
Before he knew what he was doing, Neville had bent his head forward and touched his lips to hers.
She pulled back with a jump, nearly banging her head into his nose. "Oh!"
"What?"
"It... it felt strange." She ran her hands up and down her sides. "But good. Do it again?" She moved in closer, tipped her head back, eyes drifting shut...
"No," Neville said, stepping away. "No. We can’t."
Meghan’s head came down. "Why not?"
"Because..." He couldn’t think of anything. The truth was going to have to do. "Because you’re eleven years old, and I don’t think we should be doing that yet."
Meghan stared at him, her mouth dropping open. "Why, you... you..."
He waited.
"You traitor! You liar! I thought you liked me!" She stamped her foot, hands balled into fists. "I thought you were my friend!"
"I am your friend. That’s why I’m saying no."
Meghan called him something that made his eyebrows shoot up — she must have been listening more closely to her fathers than they knew. "That’s what you are! Not my friend! I don’t ever want to see you again! I’m going to bed!"
She stomped away, the sound of her sniffles coming back to him clearly.
Neville slumped onto the convenient bench, feeling like everything she’d called him and more.
But what was I supposed to do?
xXxXx
Harry danced with Ginny again for the last song of the night, trying to ignore Cho rotating so nearby, obviously so happy in Cedric’s arms. Ron spun by with Lavender, flicking envious glances towards Krum and Hermione. Draco and Luna danced together near the center of the floor, oblivious to everyone else. Neville sat off to one side with a butterbeer, and upstairs Meghan cried herself to sleep.
For reasons as varied as the people themselves, no one who had attended the Hogwarts Yule Ball would ever forget it.
Author Notes:
Fair warning: I'm going to be away Thursday through Sunday, and busy all the next week, so few to no updates... but I'll be back on track soon after that!