Chapter Text
THE YULE BALL
It was the end of their Transfiguration lesson; they had finished their work; the guinea fowl they had been changing into guinea pigs had been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGonagall’s desk (Neville’s still had feathers); they had copied down their homework from the blackboard (“Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches”). The bell was due to ring at any moment, and Harry and Ron, who had been having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George’s fake wands at the back of the class, looked up, Ron holding a tin parrot and Harry, a rubber haddock. Y/N sat with Hermione in the front of the class, leaning over to Neville, who was at the next desk, giving him some last-minute pointers about the lesson.
“Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age,” said Professor McGonagall, with an angry look at the pair of them as the head of Harry’s haddock drooped and fell silently to the floor — Ron’s parrot’s beak had severed it moments before — “I have something to say to you all”.
“The Yule Ball is approaching — a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialise with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above — although you may invite a younger student if you wish —”
Lavender Brown let out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. But broke into one as soon as she made eye contact with her twin sister, Padma.
“Dress robes will be worn,” Professor McGonagall continued, “And the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then —”
Ah, so this is what Mrs. Weasley was referring to in her note. Good thing there was a Hogsmeade weekend coming up, she’d ask Hermione and some of the other girls if they wanted to go shopping with her.
Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class. “The Yule Ball is of course, a chance for us all to — er — let our hair down,” she said, in a disapproving voice.
Lavender giggled harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. McGongall did look like the opposite of the type of person who knew how to let her hair down, seeing as it was always in a tight bun.
“But that does NOT mean,” Professor McGonagall went on, “That we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Hogwarts student embarrasses the school in any way.”
The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders. Professor McGonagall called above the noise, “Potter — a word, if you please.”
Y/N hung back as well, not quite close enough that McGonagall would think she was eavesdropping, but close enough to still be able to hear everything. She had plans with Harry afterwards anyway, to work on Divination homework together.
Professor McGonagall said, “Potter, the champions and their partners —”
“What partners?” said Harry.
Professor McGonagall looked suspiciously at him, as though she thought he was trying to be funny.
“Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter,” she said coldly. “Your dance partners. ”
“Dance partners?” He felt himself going red. “I don’t dance,” he said quickly.
“Oh yes, you do,” said Professor McGonagall irritably. “That’s what I’m telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball.”
“I’m not dancing,” he said.
“It is traditional,” said Professor McGonagall firmly. “You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Potter.”
But — I don’t —”
“You heard me, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall in a very final sort of way.
Harry looked back and caught Y/N’s eye, mouthing ‘Help me”. They took their leave of the classroom, with Harry looking more stressed than before he had to face the Hungarian Horntail.
On their way to the library, Y/N noticed the sign-up sheet for staying at Hogwarts over the winter holiday was full of fourth years and older students. Girls giggling and whispering in the corridors, girls shrieking with laughter as boys passed them, girls excitedly comparing notes on what they were going to wear on Christmas night, they all seemed so excited it was contagious. Truthfully, Y/N was quite excited too. She had never had the opportunity to attend any formal event, so she really was looking forward to it.
Seems like she wasn’t the only one. As they entered the library, a curly-haired third year Hufflepuff girl to whom Y/N had never seen Harry speak to before asked him to go to the ball with her. Harry looked shocked, but quickly said no. The girl walked off looking rather hurt and gave Y/N a quite nasty look.
The following day, two more girls asked him, a second year and a fifth year, who looked as though she might knock him out if he refused. Y/N found herself to be relieved every time he rejected a girl. It wasn’t because she was jealous, no, she couldn’t be. Harry was one of her best friends — she just wanted to make sure he had a good match for the Yule Ball, given he would be one of the central figures of the whole thing. Y/N was purely looking out for his best interest, that’s all.
“She was quite good-looking,” said Ron fairly, after he’d stopped laughing.
“She was a foot taller than me,” said Harry, still unnerved. “Imagine what I’d look like trying to dance with her.”
The weekend arrived in a blur of classes during the day and detentions with Snape in the evenings. Soon, the Hogsmeade day had arrived. Y/N had gotten Hermione and Padma to agree to go with her to shop for dresses. Padma had then asked to bring along her twin, Parvati, who asked to bring Lavender. The five of them set off to Hogsmeade, heading straight for Gladrag’s Wizardwear, as did half the girls in school, so it seemed.
The pink and teal exterior of the shop had the display showcasing as many gowns as they could. The merchandise inside seemed to reflect the same trend. Clearly, the owners had heard of the upcoming ball and adjusted the wares accordingly. Most of the shop floor was taken up by gorgeous gowns of every colour of the rainbow, from shimmery satins to voluminous tulles; the patterns and textures were overwhelming to the eye all at once. There was a small section for men’s dress robes, but it was much less interesting. A shopkeeper was levitating gowns and magically folding them in boxes tied with a pink ribbon, eager to get through as many customers as possible. The crowd, thankfully, was too excited and giggly to be angry about the long wait times.
Padma and Parvati had started immediately scouring through a corner of the store that specialized in Asian traditional styles, from the Hanfu, to the Kimono, to the Sarees and Lehengas, and everything in between. There were loads of gorgeous options. A mannequin displayed a Nivi-style silk Saree that was a deep green, with a beautiful gold-woven pattern around the perimeter of the fabric.
“I would want something similar to this”, Padma said, pointing to the mannequin, “But the colour doesn’t suit the jewellery I brought from home at all”.
“Yes, I think this Mulberry fabric would suit it much better”, Padma said, pulling out a Mulberry purple and gold fabric for Padma to see. She held it up to her body and looked in a nearby mirror approvingly.
“While I’m no expert, I think you look amazing next to it”, Y/N chimed in.
After a back and forth with the twins, Padma eventually settled on the Mulberry saree, and Parvati got a burgundy one. Y/N wandered over to another part of the store where Hermione was. She had just exited one of the fitting rooms in a very poofy robin’s egg blue gown, with a sparkly sweetheart neckline. As she saw Y/N approaching, she hit multiple exaggerated poses, then doubled over laughing.
“I look ridiculous in this thing!” She cried between laughs. “Like an over-decorated cake!”
“Well, I think you can find better— maybe something with less tulle and crystals would be more your style?” Y/N suggested.
“What about you?” Hermione asked. “Have you found anything yet?”
“No, not yet. I was a little busy helping the Patils, so I haven’t really looked yet”.
“Well, that won’t do! Just try something, anything!” Hermione said as she grabbed the first dress she saw in Y/N’s size and shoved it towards her. “No pressure, just try something for fun!”
Y/N entered the fitting room next to Hermione and pulled the curtain shut. The dress she was handed was a traditional ballgown style dress that was just as ridiculously fluffy as the one Hermione tried on, but was in a bright canary yellow and had feathers all around the bodice with a high neckline and long sleeves. She reluctantly put it on and had to restrain her laughter at her own reflection: she looked like a very over-feathered and over-indulged bird. Hermione had to see this!
As she stepped out and twirled around in front of Hermione, their laughter caught the attention of Lavender, who stomped over.
“Please tell me you’re not going to be wearing that thing!” She said in a horrified shriek. “Your date will be driven away in terror when he sees it!”
“What this gorgeous gown?” Y/N said with a mock fluttering of eyelashes and a sarcastic hair toss. “My imaginary date will love it!”
Hermione giggled.
“Then you should be even more concerned!” Lavender said as she went to smooth down the fluff of the dress. “How do you expect any boy to ask you to dance if you have such awful fashion sense!”
“Don’t worry, Lavender, I’m not seriously considering this thing”, Y/N said. “I want something less ostentatious, something simpler that I can dance in maybe…” Her mind wandered despite herself to a daydream about Harry waltzing with her, them opening the Yule Ball together, his hand on the small of her back—
“Good, good, you’re not as hopeless as I thought”, Lavender interrupted Y/N’s fantasy. She then proceeded to hand Y/N dress after dress in every colour and made her show them to her. Pushy as she was, Y/N had to admit she had good taste. Hermione managed to escape her focus as she concentrated on Y/N. Lucky girl!
The last dress Lavender handed Y/N was a floor-length gown with an empire waist and an A-line silhouette. The base of it was made of medium blue taffeta, overlaid with a sheer black layer with embroidered floral motifs. It had long black gloves on the hanger with it as well, which Y/N put on to complete the look. She finally found something in the mirror that made her smile, something that elevated her look, but still made her recognise herself. She only had a moment of pause; it allowed her scars to be very visible. But, so would any modern style dress. She took a breath and decided to embrace it. As she pulled back the curtain to show Lavender, she saw all the girls were there, with boxes tied with pink ribbons. They all gushed about how gorgeous Y/N looked, after the shock of her scars passed from everyone but Hermione’s faces, and Y/N thanked Lavender profusely.
“But Lavender, what about your dress?” Y/N asked, concerned.
“Oh, the saleswitch is holding mine at the cash desk, I picked it out ages ago, since I’m going with Seamus, I wanted it to match his robes”, Lavender said lightly. “You were the only one who took so long to decide, while you were changing, Hermione snuck off and bought hers as well, without any of us seeing it!”
Hermione smiled mischievously. “Well, you will all have to wait for the ball to see it I guess!”
After they had gotten their gowns, as they walked down the main street of Hogsmeade, Hermione stopped them. She pulled Y/N and the others into the hairdressing shop. Hermione had grabbed a pot labelled: Sleekeazy's Hair Potion and Scalp Treatment.
“I read about this in an issue of Witch’s Weekly ; it’s supposed to smooth out even the most bushy and unruly hair, like mine”, Hermione said.
“I like your hair, it has character”, Y/N said.
“Well, I could do with less character for the ball”, Hermione said while looking around. The others were across the store, looking at perfumed hair oils.
“I’ve got a date that will definitely draw a lot of attention, so I want people to finally see me, not just my hair”, she said in a low voice.
“You’ve got to tell me who it is this instant, Hermione!” Y/N squealed as quietly as she could.
“Oh, okay, it’s Viktor Krum”, she said as her cheeks flushed pink.
Y/N couldn’t hide the shock from her face.
“I thought you couldn’t stand him, found him annoying — what changed?”
“Well, you know he’s been spending an awful lot of time in the library, as have I and well, we got to talking —er, rather I do most of the talking, but he liked to listen. Then he said when he asked me, that he had been coming to the library to get the courage to come and talk to me, can you believe it!” Hermione’s voice was moving through each word so quickly, Y/N could barely catch each one.
“Of course I can believe it, it’s about time a boy was smart enough to notice how fit you are!” Y/N said supportively. “I’m just a bit surprised it wasn’t Ron who asked you, I kinda thought the two of you would end up going together”.
At that, Hermione blushed even deeper and began sputtering protests. “Well, he didn’t take any initiative, did he now?”
“I guess not”, Y/N said before sprouting a mischievous grin. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees the two of you together, though!”
***
The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up, they were the most stunning she had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the bannisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armour had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them. It was quite something to hear “O Come, All Ye Faithful” sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Filch, the caretaker, had to extract Peeves from inside the armour, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention, all of which were very rude, but very funny.
The last day of classes had arrived, and everyone was utterly depleted regarding work. However, for the four champions, something still hung over their heads even after classes. The eggs they had snatched from the dragons were clues for the next task, and while Y/N didn’t know how much progress the other champions had made, she knew Harry hadn’t made any.
“You should really be more concerned about decoding that egg instead of who’ll be your date to the ball!” Y/N hissed at Harry. “I could help you!”
“Come on, Y/N, I’ve got till February the twenty-fourth,” Harry said. “The Yule Ball is much closer”.
“But it might take weeks to work it out!” said Hermione. “You’re going to look like a real idiot if everyone else knows what the next task is and you don’t!”
“I’ll also look like a real idiot if I have to open up the ball with no date!” Harry shot back.
“Leave him alone, girls, he’s earned a bit of a break,” said Ron, and he placed the last two cards on top of the castle in his game of Exploding Snap, and the whole lot blew up, singeing his eyebrows.
“Nice look, Ron . . . go well with your dress robes, that will.” It was Fred and George. They sat down at the table with Y/N, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as Ron felt how much damage had been done.
“Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?” George asked.
“No, he’s off delivering a letter,” said Ron. “Why?”
“Because George wants to invite him to the ball,” said Fred sarcastically.
“Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat,” said George.
“Who d’you two keep writing to, eh?” said Ron.
“Nose out, Ron, or I’ll burn that for you too,” said Fred, waving his wand threateningly. “So . . . you lot got dates for the ball yet?”
“Nope,” said Ron.
“Well, you’d better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone,” said Fred.
“Who’re you going with, then?” said Ron.
“Angelina,” said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.
“What?” said Ron, taken aback. “You’ve already asked her?”
“Good point,” said Fred. He turned his head and called across the Great Hall, “Oi! Angelina!”
Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet, looked over at him.
“What?” she called back. “Want to come to the ball with me?”
Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look. “All right, then,” she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.
“There you go,” said Fred to Harry and Ron, “Piece of cake.”
He then plopped down next to Y/N and leaned back so his mouth was close enough to her ear to whisper, “George thinks she’s mad fit, but he’s shy, ya know, so it’ll be real convenient for him when I mysteriously slip away halfway through the dance”. Y/N had a hard time believing either Weasley twin could be described as shy , but then again, Fred did always come across as more of the instigator between them.
Y/N smiled and looked at George, who looked a bit disappointed.
She whispered back to Fred, “Well, no one can ever deny that you’re a good brother, at least to George —go easy on Ron. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s not going to have a very fun time at the ball”.
Fred sighed and said, “Oh, alright, I’ll try”.
“Hey, what are you two whispering about?” Harry asked from across the table.
“Just giving Y/N here some friendly dating advice”, Fred said as he draped an arm around her shoulder and gave Harry a lazy grin. Harry didn’t look very amused.
He got to his feet, yawning, and said, “We’d better use a school owl then, George, come on. . . .”
They left. Ron stopped feeling his eyebrows and looked across the smouldering wreck of his card castle at Harry.
“We should get a move on, you know . . . ask someone . He’s right. We don’t want to end up with a pair of trolls.”
Hermione let out a sputter of indignation. “A pair of . . . what , excuse me?”
“Yeah, Ron, don’t assume the trolls will be so easy to win over”, Y/N said. “Who says the trolls will want to go with you?” So much for going easy on Ron. He just made it so difficult sometimes.
“Well — you know,” said Ron, shrugging. “I’d rather go alone than with — with Eloise Midgen, say.”
“Her acne’s loads better lately — and she’s really nice!” Hermione jumped to her defence.
“Her nose is off-center,” said Ron.
“Oh, I see,” Hermione said, bristling. “So basically, you’re going to take the best-looking girl who’ll have you, even if she’s completely horrible?”
“Er — yeah, that sounds about right,” said Ron.
“I’m going to bed,” Hermione snapped, and she swept off.
“Real smooth, Ron, I’m sure that endeared you to Hermione”, Y/N said sarcastically.
“W-why would I want to endear myself to Hermione?” Ron asked as his face flushed.
“Are you denying that you fancy her, because it seems quite obvious to me, I mean, why else would you get so passionately heated when you argue?”
After that, Ron stood up, muttering excuses and exited the hall.
“What about you, Harry?” Y/N asked, looking into his bespeckled green eyes. “I know there’s a lot more pressure on you to get a partner, so if you tell me what kind of girl you’d want to go with, maybe I could help?”
Harry looked taken aback by her suggestion and a little embarrassed.
“Well, I did have one girl in mind… but I don’t want to risk the awkwardness if she doesn’t want to go with me”.
“Who is she?” Y/N asked quickly. “I mean — I can help you find out if she fancies you if that’s important…”
“Please don’t make me tell you, I don’t think I could”, Harry said as he looked down.
“Fine!” Y/N said in a huff. “Be that way! I can tell when my help’s not wanted, with the egg or with your Yule Ball problem!” Then she stormed off, feeling quite silly as she exited the hall. Maybe she would have made less of a fool of herself if Fred really had given her dating advice.
Then, as she was feeling particularly foolish, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Y/N turned around and saw Harry, a bit out of breath, looking like he had run to catch up with her.
“Wangoballwime?”
“What?” said Y/N. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying”.
“D’you — d’you want to go to the ball with me?” said Harry, eyes wide and face flushed.
Y/N didn’t say anything for a whole minute; she was so surprised.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to —er, this is why I didn’t want to say anything, I don’t want you to avoid me…”
“No, Harry, don’t be silly, of course I’ll go with you!” Y/N said eagerly. Not wanting to sound too eager or desperate and jeopardise their friendship, she added, “It’s the most practical option, can’t believe I didn’t suggest it earlier! I was so worried about all the other details, I completely neglected getting a date — whereas if I had just tried to get a date by asking you, both our problems would have been over sooner! I mean, you just need to have a date because of the dance, any girl would do, even me!” Y/N had rambled so nervously, she barely noticed Harry’s smile fall slightly at her caveat.
“Well, um, thanks”, Harry said awkwardly as he raced off.
The second he was out of sight, Y/N allowed a girlish squeal of joy to escape her lips. She was actually going to a ball, and with Harry of all people! She composed herself, remembering she wasn’t completely alone in the hallway. Obviously, it was just their depth of friendship making her excited; she wasn’t anything like Ron, who was in deep denial over his feelings for Hermione. That would be ridiculous. I mean, how could Y/N ever hope for more? Harry was Harry Potter, and who was she? She was lucky he even liked her as a friend, and the circumstance necessitated them to go to the ball as dates.
Before she entered Ravenclaw tower, Y/N saw Neville waiting in front of the door.
“Um, Y/N, can I ask you something?” Neville said quietly.
“Neville, you could ask me anything now and I would be open to it. I’m so happy, but you’ll have to speak up”.
“Okay — w-will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” He said through eyes squeezed shut, as if bracing for impact.
Y/N’s good mood dropped slightly; she felt awful for having to reject him. She knew it took a lot of courage for him to ask her, and he really was a nice boy who deserved to have a fun time at the ball.
“Oh, Neville, I’m really sorry,” Y/N said genuinely. “I’ve already said I’ll go with someone else —Harry just asked me.”
“Oh, sorry for asking”, said Neville in a small voice that made Y/N feel like she had kicked a puppy.
“No, don’t apologise!” Y/N said, desperately trying to save the situation. She racked her brain, who didn’t have a date yet who wanted to go —Ginny! She would definitely agree since she was a third year and couldn’t go without a date fourth year or older. “Why don’t you ask Ginny? I’m sure she’d want to go with you?”
“Yeah, okay, I will”, Neville said in a voice that sounded a lot like he was trying to pull himself together.
The next day at breakfast, Y/N dropped by the Gryffindors.
“Why do you look so down, Ron?” Y/N asked as she saw his glum face.
“Because he was turned down by the girl he asked to the ball!” said Ginny.
“Thanks a bunch, Ginny,” said Ron sourly.
“All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?” said Hermione loftily. “Eloise Midgen is starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone somewhere who’ll have you.”
But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.
“Hermione, but— you are a girl. . . .”
“Oh, well spotted,” she said acidly.
“Well — you can come with me!”
“No, I can’t,” snapped Hermione.
“Oh come on,” he said impatiently, “We need partners, we’re going to look really stupid if we haven’t got any, everyone else has . . .”
“I can’t come with you,” said Hermione, now blushing, “Because I’m already going with someone.”
Y/N gave Hermione a knowing look.
“No, you’re not!” said Ron.
“Just because it’s taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn’t mean no one else has spotted I’m a girl!” said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously.
Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.
“Okay, okay, we know you’re a girl,” he said. “That do? Will you come now?”
Y/N face palmed. How could he be so stupid !
“I’ve already told you!” Hermione said very angrily.
“I’m going with someone else!” And she stormed off toward the girls’ dormitories again.
“She’s lying,” said Ron flatly, watching her go.
“She’s not,” said Ginny quietly.
“Who is it then?” said Ron sharply.
“I’m not telling you, it’s her business,” said Ginny.
“Y/N, you must know”, Ron looked desperately.
“I’m not helping you out of this one, friend”.
“Right,” said Ron, who looked extremely put out, “This is getting stupid. Ginny, you can go with Harry, and I’ll just go with Y/N then.”
“I can’t,” said Ginny, and she went scarlet too. “I’m going with — with Neville. I thought . . . well . . . I’m not going to be able to go otherwise, I’m not in fourth year.” She looked extremely miserable.
“And anyway, I’ve already asked Y/N yesterday, as I had been trying to tell you all morning, so no, you can’t go with her”, Harry said, looking quite frustrated with his friend.
Ron goggled at Harry, but then was distracted by Parvati and Lavender’s giggling.
“What’s got into them?” Ron demanded.
“Wait here,” Harry said to Ron, and he stood up, walked straight up to Parvati, and said, “Parvati? Will you go to the ball with Ron?”
Parvati looked over at Ron, then sighed. Harry waited.
“Yes, all right then,” she said finally, blushing furiously. “But couldn’t he have asked me himself?”
“Thanks,” said Harry, in relief. “And no, he really couldn’t have”.
He went back over to Ron, sitting down.
“You’re going with Parvati, and I’ll hear no objections because her nose is dead center”, Harry said finally.
Ginny roared with laughter as Ron muttered ‘thanks’.
***
Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid’s cabin, while the Durmstrang ship’s portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The houseelves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savoury puddings, and only Fleur Delacour seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.
“It is too ’eavy, all zis ’Ogwarts food,” they heard her saying grumpily as they left the Great Hall behind her one evening (Ron skulking behind Harry, keen not to be spotted by Fleur, who Y/N eventually heard he failed at asking to the ball rather spectacularly). “I will not fit into my dress robes!”
“Oooh, there’s a tragedy,” Hermione snapped as Fleur went out into the entrance hall. “She really thinks a lot of herself, that one, doesn’t she?”
“She’s actually quite nice underneath”, Y/N came to her defence. “She was quite pleasant at the Ravenclaw table when the Basuxbatons arrived”. Hermione’s face indicated she wasn’t convinced.
“Hermione — who are you going to the ball with?” said Ron. He kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she least expected it.
However, Hermione merely frowned and said, “I’m not telling you, you’ll just make fun of me.”
“You’re joking, Weasley!” said Malfoy, behind them. “You’re not telling me someone’s asked that to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood?”
Y/N, Harry, and Ron all whipped around, but Hermione said loudly, waving to somebody over Malfoy’s shoulder, “Hello, Professor Moody!”
Malfoy went pale and jumped backwards, looking wildly around for Moody, but he was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.
“Twitchy little ferret, aren’t you, Malfoy?” said Hermione scathingly, and Y/N, Harry, and Ron went up the marble staircase laughing heartily.
“Hermione,” said Ron, looking sideways at her, suddenly frowning, “Your teeth . . .”
“What about them?” she said. “Well, they’re different . . . I’ve just noticed. . . .”
“Of course they are — did you expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave me?”
“No, I mean, they’re different to how they were before he put that hex on you. . . . They’re all . . . straight and — and normal-sized.”
Hermione suddenly smiled very mischievously, and Y/N noticed it too: It was a very different smile from the one she remembered.
“Well . . . when I went up to Madam Pomfrey to get them shrunk, she held up a mirror and told me to stop her when they were back to how they normally were,” she said. “And I just . . . let her carry on a bit.” She smiled even more widely. “Mum and Dad won’t be too pleased. I’ve been trying to persuade them to let me shrink them for ages, but they wanted me to carry on with my braces. You know, they’re dentists, they just don’t think teeth and magic should — look! Pigwidgeon’s back!”
Ron’s tiny owl was twittering madly on the top of the icicle-laden bannisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg. It was another letter from Sirius, congratulating Harry on getting past the Horntail and telling him to still be careful.
“He sounds exactly like Moody,” said Harry quietly, tucking the letter away again inside his robes. “‘Constant vigilance!’ You’d think I walk around with my eyes shut, banging off the walls. . . .”
“Well, usually I would agree”, Y/N said. “But even champions and trouble-attractors like you, Harry Potter, deserve to ‘ let your hair down ’ as McGongall said once and a while. I’m expecting no talk of anything remotely serious or important at the ball!” Y/N said cheekily.
***
It was finally time for the ball on Christmas evening, and Y/N was putting the finishing touches on her attire. Along with her blue gown, she had bought the long black gloves she had tried on in the stores, shiny black flat dancing shoes (that would be hidden by her dress anyway), and a velvet black choker with a single small teardrop-shaped stone hanging from the middle — a moonstone. She had styled her hair nearly the same as she always did, just a bit neater, and more out of her face. Padma was applying the finishing touches to her makeup; it was light and natural, as Y/N hadn’t had much experience wearing it, and Padma hadn’t wanted to shock her.
“Voila!” Padma said as she pointed with her finger for Y/N to turn and face the floor-length mirror on her side of the room. She also handed her a small purse with a long silver chain that she was loaning to Y/N for the night. “You look amazing, and my makeup application wasn’t half bad! No one will be able to take their eyes off you when you dance with Harry — forget Fleur!”
Y/N laughed at her blatant attempt at flattery, then studied herself in the mirror. She did look good. Her fingertips found their way to her scar, tracing it from her neck down to wear it disappeared under the neckline of her dress. It was less visible than a few months ago; the scar had definitely faded, but it wasn’t gone. Y/N squashed her doubts and insecurities that risked bubbling up — no, scars were a sign of survival. She wouldn’t let herself be ashamed of that.
Y/N turned and looked at Padma, “The Beauxbaton boy who asked you is one lucky guy, you look stunning as well!” It was true that Padma’s Saree was intricate, her jewellery shiny and expensive-looking, and her hair beautifully braided with strands of gold, but it was her confidence that really made her shine. She was ready to seize the night.
As the girls exited the common room, she was surprised to find Harry waiting for her in front of the door to Ravenclaw tower. His dress robes were sharp and sleek, complementing his face quite nicely. Harry looked very handsome, which Y/N had never allowed herself to admit before. His raven hair was less messy than usual, but still had plenty of body to it, which contrasted against his fair skin and bright green eyes from behind his round, silver-framed glasses. He held out his arm for Y/N to take, which she did as gracefully as she could. Harry was very committed to representing Hogwarts well, it seemed. She wouldn’t let him down; she’d be as good a partner as she could be, to not embarrass Harry.
“You look beautiful, Y/N”, Harry said as they walked to the Great Hall. “The gown you chose really brings out the colour of your eyes”.
“You look quite dashing yourself, who knew under all the messy hair was such a gentleman”, Y/N replied. She leaned closer so only he would hear, “McGonagall would be proud you’re taking this whole thing so seriously. I’m impressed as well”.
Harry beamed.
The entrance hall was packed with students, too, all milling around waiting for eight o’clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd, trying to find one another. Padma found her sister, Parvati, who had already arrived with Ron. Ron seemed distracted, however, craning his neck in all directions. She didn’t look too enthusiastic about having Ron as a partner, though; her dark eyes lingered on the frayed neck and sleeves of his dress robes as she looked him up and down.
“Where is Hermione?” Ron said, barely acknowledging Harry and Y/N’s arrival.
So that’s what had him so distracted. He really was hopeless. Poor Parvati as well, Y/N hoped she wouldn’t take his neglect too personally.
A group of Slytherins came up the steps from their dungeon common room. Malfoy was in front; he was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a high collar, which made him look more stern and aristocratic than usual. Unfortunately, he didn’t dress himself in a way that made him look like a complete fool, and though she would never admit it aloud, he cleaned up decently. Pansy Parkinson, in very frilly robes of pale pink, was clutching Malfoy’s arm, like he were at risk of running away. Crabbe and Goyle were both wearing green; they resembled moss-colored boulders, and neither of them had managed to find a partner. Seems even Slytherin girls had standards.
Malfoy’s eyes found Y/N, then Harry, and he shot him a dirty look. His eyes looked back in her direction, and Y/N thought he looked more like his father than ever, which was most decidedly not a compliment. Usually, he just appeared whiny and pathetic, but dressed in his dress robes and death glare, he was more intimidating than she thought possible. When Pansy noticed where his eyes were lingering, she quickly yanked him in the opposite direction.
The oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the party, accompanied by Hermione in a layered lilac dress that made her look amazing, even from a distance. She had done something with her hair; it was no longer bushy but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. Over their heads, he saw that an area of lawn right in front of the castle had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights — meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rosebushes that had been conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of what seemed to be Father Christmas and his reindeer. The Great Hall was also opened across the front Entrance Hall, and it was decorated like a winter wonderland. It was all snow and ice themed, with delicate cool colored decorations and ice sculptures in every corner and on every wall. The ceiling imitated the look of a flurry of snowflakes continuously falling. The four long tables had been removed to make room for a dance floor, though on one side of the room, there were many small round tables.
Then Professor McGonagall’s voice called, “Champions over here, please!”
The chattering crowd parting to let them through, it was time to prove to Harry he didn’t make a mistake asking her. Y/N mentally thanked Morningside for having a ballroom dancing enrichment activity one summer and hoped she remembered as much as she thought she did. Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan, told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; they were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her.
“Hi, Harry!” Hermione said, as she and Krum were closest to them, “Hi, Y/N!”
Y/N returned Hermione’s greeting with a bright smile. She mouthed ‘You look amazing’ to her before getting into position. Y/N concentrated on not tripping over her feet and maintaining a natural-looking smile and good posture. Harry led admirably, not looking the least bit nervous. They arrived in the middle of the dance floor. The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage in the corner of the hall to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn.
The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune; Harry placed one of his hands around her waist and held the other tightly in hers. Y/N quickly realised Harry had absolutely no idea how to dance, so she, as seamlessly as possible, took over leading the dance. Harry’s eyes never left hers, and they had been so lost in their own little world that they only noticed others had joined the dance when the floor was full.
The champions were no longer the center of attention. Neville and Ginny were dancing nearby — they could see Ginny wincing frequently as Neville trod on her feet — and Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. Mad-Eye Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.
“Nice socks, Potter,” Moody growled as he passed, his magical eye staring through Harry’s robes.
“Oh — yeah, Dobby the house-elf knitted them for me,” said Harry, grinning.
“See you got a new, less tricky necklace, S/N”, Moody directed at Y/N.
“Erm— yes, well spotted?” Y/N replied awkwardly. Something about him put her on edge.
The Weird Sisters stopped playing, applause filled the hall once more, but Harry’s hands lingered in position.
“Let’s stay for the next one, shall we?”
“Of course!” Y/N said as the Weird Sisters struck up a new song, which was much faster.
Everyone ceased dancing the waltz or any other predetermined partner dance. Instead, they all let loose with their partners and friends, forming a large crowd around the band. Y/N spotted Fred and Angelina, who were dancing so exuberantly that people around them were backing away in fear of injury, then she noticed that with each step, Fred was getting further away. When she looked back by the next song, he was pushing George towards Angelina and retreating from the crowd. Fred, ever observant as he was, caught Y/N looking and shot her a wink.
Hermione and Krum were dancing nearby, so Y/N dragged Harry to join them. It had taken a couple of songs to loosen Harry up enough to actually, fully dance, and not just bop along, but when he did, it was spectacular. Not because he was a skilled dancer — no, he was actually quite horrible. But because outside of when watching him fly, this was the only time Y/N had seen Harry look so freely himself, with no pretences.
Eventually, they got tired, and Y/N, Harry, and Hermione went to look for Ron. They had found him sitting alone at one of the tables. Parvati had long since abandoned him for someone who actually wanted to dance.
“Hi,” said Harry.
Ron didn’t say anything.
“It’s hot, isn’t it?” said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. “Viktor’s just gone to get some drinks.”
Ron gave her a withering look. “ Viktor ?” he said. “Hasn’t he asked you to call him Vicky yet?”
Hermione looked at him in surprise. “What’s up with you?” she said.
“If you don’t know,” said Ron scathingly, “I’m not going to tell you.”
Y/N was tempted to just lean over to whisper to Hermione that he was madly jealous because he had just realised his feelings towards her after Krum had asked her. But, she restrained herself.
Hermione stared at him, then at Harry, who shrugged. She finally turned to Y/N for help, but saw the conflicted look on her face and just sighed.
“Ron, what — ?”
“He’s from Durmstrang!” spat Ron. “He’s competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You — you’re —” Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione’s crime, “ fraternising with the enemy, that’s what you’re doing!”
Oh, so that’s how he was going to spin this. This could only end poorly. Hermione’s mouth fell open.
“Don’t be so stupid!” she said after a moment. “The enemy ! Honestly — who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who’s got a model of him up in their dormitory?”
“Let’s just sneak off now before their argument reaches draconic proportions”, Y/N whispered to Harry.
He wordlessly grabbed her hand and led her to the outside portion of the ball, away from the sounds of Hermione and Ron continuing to argue, and the Weird Sisters’ next song. Before they managed to make it outside, they spotted Fred and George accosting Ludo Bagman.
“Do you think we should see what’s going on over there?” Y/N asked, concerned, more for Bagman as she knew how relentless the twins could be.
“Absolutely not”, Harry said decisively. “Remember: nothing serious or important ”.
“Oh, all right”, Y/N said with a smile as they finally made it outside.
The front doors stood open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes, winding, ornamental paths, and large stone statues. Y/N could hear splashing water, which sounded like a fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. They set off along one of the winding paths through the rosebushes, holding hands, but they had gone only a short way when they heard a familiar dry voice.
“. . . don’t see what there is to fuss about, Igor.”
“Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t happening!” Karkaroff’s voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can’t deny it —”
“Then flee,” said Snape’s voice curtly. “Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts.”
Snape and Karkaroff came around the corner. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rosebushes apart, his expression most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.
“Ten points from Gryffindor, Johnson!” Snape snarled as Anagelina ran past him. “And ten points from you as well, Weasley!” as George went rushing after her. Looks like Fred’s plan to get them together worked out well. “And what are you two doing?” he added, catching sight of Harry and Y/N on the path ahead. Snape looked furious seeing them, hands intertwined.
“I’m walking with my dance partner,” Harry told Snape shortly. “Not against the law, is it?”
“This year is just full of poor choices, I see S/N”, Snape snarled, and he brushed past them, his long black cloak billowing out behind him. Karkaroff hurried away after Snape.
“Since when have he and Snape been on first-name terms?” said Harry slowly.
“Nope, not tonight!” Y/N interjected. “Serious things tomorrow!”
They had found a bench to sit at that way away from the eyes of everyone else, no Snape, no suspicious Durmstrang headmaster, no feuding Hermione and Ron, nothing but the two of them.
“Sorry, I probably ruined any chance of Snape treating you fairly ever again”, Harry said.
“Forget him”, Y/N said. “He’s so confusing. I mean, besides his unfounded hatred for you based on your father, he can be a good professor, but then whenever Malfoy and his band of gits do something awful, he just lets it slide”. She sighed. “But I don’t want to talk about Snape right now”.
“Me neither”, Harry said as his eyes softened.
They then talked about everything else under the sun that was fun and light. Harry went on and on about Quidditch and his favourite seeker strategies, as well as how much he missed the season. Y/N filled him in on the fascinating book she had been reading about healing potions. She tried not to be distracted by how attractive she found Harry in the glow of the moonlight. The soft silver light bounced off his fair face in ways that highlighted the contours of his face that had noticeably sharpened compared to the last few years she had known him. Strange as it sounded, she had never really considered whether she liked how Harry looked; he was always just Harry . But now she could no longer deny she did. She really did, and it scared her. There was no way that Harry would feel the same way about her, I mean, there were much prettier girls like Cho Chang — much smarter girls like Hermione — sportier girls like Angelina or Katie from the Gryffindor Quidditch team. What did she really have to offer him? The answer came quickly: her friendship. She refused to jeopardise that, so she’d have to make it clear she wasn’t expecting anything more out of him. Y/N’s nightmare would be if she made Harry uncomfortable with her budding feelings.
“I hope I was an okay partner and didn’t embarrass you”, Y/N said shyly. “I know you probably wanted to go with someone else, but you had a lot of pressure on you, so I understand why you asked me: we have a track record of being able to work well together”.
Harry looked at her like she had professed her love to a Blast-Ended Skrewt.
“Y/N”, he said slowly. “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”
Now, Y/N was confused. She gave him an out; why wasn’t he taking it?
“Did you honestly think I only invited you because of what McGonagall said?” He asked indignantly.
Y/N nodded sheepishly.
Harry began to laugh.
“That’s not funny, Harry! I was really trying to help you!” Y/N cried out as she felt tears of embarrassment begin to well in her eyes.
“How could you ever think I’d care that much about McGonagall’s idea of an ideal school representation? If I didn’t want to go with you, Y/N, I wouldn’t have invited you. ”
He reached up to her cheek and rubbed away the stray tear that fell from her eyes.
“Well, now I just feel silly”, Y/N said as she looked away.
Harry’s hand guided her face to look towards him again, and he began to lean in.
“Hey — HARRY!”
Ron marched over, face all red so his freckles looked like seeds on a large strawberry.
“You won’t believe what Hermione said —” Ron stopped as he finally noticed how close Y/N and Harry were. “Am I interrupting something?”
At that question, Y/N and Harry pulled away from each other like they were two north poles of a magnet. Both looked anywhere but at each other.
“Er — no, you’re not”, Harry said.
Ron dragged them back to the Entrance Hall. It was just after midnight, and the Weird Sisters finished playing with everyone giving them a last, loud round of applause. Many people were expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, but Y/N just wished Harry and her alone time hadn’t been interrupted. Hermione said good night to Krum before he went back to the Durmstrang ship. She gave Ron a very cold look.
“They get scary when they get older”, Ron muttered, looking at Hermione. “He’s obviously just using her, I mean, he’s way too old”.
“Well, if you don’t like it, you know what the solution is, don’t you?” yelled Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger.
“Oh yeah?” Ron yelled back. “What’s that?”
“Next time there’s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!”
Ron mouthed soundlessly like a goldfish out of water. Ron turned to look at Harry. “Well,” he sputtered, looking thunderstruck, “well — that just proves — completely missed the point —”
“Ron, you spoiled everything!” yelled Hermione.
Harry grabbed Ron and pulled him up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower before he had the chance to make it worse. Hermione, with nowhere to direct her anger, sat down on the grand staircase and began to cry. Y/N sat next to her, patting her back as she let the tears fall. She threw off her high heels in frustration. The night ended with Y/N comforting Hermione; thankfully, she still had a leftover vial of Claming Drought she had brewed for Harry earlier in the term.