Hey people! Not much to say about this... except that Fan Fiction needs more fics about Anthony Goldstein. Yep.
Happy HOLIDAYS to all my (our) watchers! (And enjoy~)
A Blue Yule
Anthony Goldstein sometimes wondered whether the definition of "Ravenclaw" had managed to change over time, or whether the sorting hat really just tended to get it wrong a lot of the time. Because there was this stereotype... everyone seemed to think that Ravenclaws cared nothing for anything but studying, and working, and exams, and paying attention in class, and doing homework, and then more studying... but at times like this they all turned into normal teenagers.
Times like what, you may ask, and well you may, because these were indeed abnormal days at Hogwarts. Without even mentioning the Triwizard Championship, the dragons (the freaking dragons!) and the obscenely good-looking Beauxbatons students who were sharing the Ravenclaw table at mealtimes, there was one thing that had set the whole school in a flap. The Yule Ball.
So instead of "homework, study, exams", the Ravenclaw common room was abuzz with the words "Ball, partner, date".
Then again, while Michael Corner reclined in his chair and spoke proudly of all the girls who would be queueing up to ask him, and Terry Boot once again outlined his intricate plans to ask Lisa Turpin to the Ball, all Anthony really wanted to do was finish his Arithmancy homework before their free ended and they had to go down to dinner, rather than listen to all this posturing about something in which he really wasn't interested.
"So who are you going to ask, Ant?" Michael asked.
Anthony looked up vaguely from his textbook. "What?"
"Who are you going to ask?"
"Ask what?"
Michael slapped a hand to his forehead dramatically. "Christ, Ant, haven't you been listening? Who're you going to ask to the Yule Ball, of course?"
Anthony sighed. He thought that the event really didn't need the capitalisation that was implicit with it in Michael's tone. Truth be told, he'd only really signed up to stay the holidays because Flitwick had assured his house that the decorations were going to be amazing. It wasn't like Christmas was that much of a big deal.
"I figure I'll just go on my own, if at all," he said.
Michael looked outraged. "Why are you even here?"
Terry frowned. "Be nice, Mike. We all know that the silly season is a bit of a sensitive subject with Anty here..."
Anthony rolled his eyes. "Honestly, guys, being Jewish doesn't make me the Grinch. I don't even bloody believe in any of that Muggle religion stuff."
"We get it, we're Ravenclaws," Michael scoffed, using his favourite tagline, as though being a Ravenclaw gave him the right to act more intelligently than everyone else. Which it kinda did.
"And you're only half-Muggle," Michael continued jokingly, "so we forgive you."
Terry nodded eagerly.
"You're all heart," Anthony deadpanned.
"Thank you," Michael said, "now tell us who you're going to ask."
"I told you," Anthony mumbled uncomfortably, "I'll go alone."
If he didn't have any sense of dignity, Anthony would have burst out with "well, essentially, fellows, I'm as gay as a three-pound coin, so I think I'm going to just stay in my little bubble of apathy and enjoy myself on my own", but he not only had a sense of dignity, he had a sense of "whoops, this is getting awkward", so he kept his mouth shut. Emerging from his closet to his two best friends of three-and-a-half years could lead to questions such as "why the hell didn't you tell us earlier?" from Terry, and "so have you ever jacked off at the thought of my gorgeous body?" from Michael. And neither of those would be pleasant to answer, even though Anthony new exactly what he would say: "so as not to ruin our friendship" and "NO" respectively.
"I'm asking Lisa," Terry said for what must have been the five-thousandth time.
"We know," Michael groaned.
"Who are you asking, Mike?" Anthony asked. "I mean, you've been nattering on about all the girls who so obviously fancy you and would love a piece of your hot Ravenclaw arse, but you've not actually gone into specifics."
"He has been listening!" Michael said gleefully to Terry.
"That's not an answer," Terry pointed out, evidently just as curious as Anthony was.
"Well," Michael began, "the obvious options are Padma, Mandy and Morag, but really, none of them have big enough tits."
Terry gasped.
"Okay, so Mandy's got a pretty nice rack," Michael continued, "but she's got a face like a banshee. Morag's quite pretty, but flat as a pancake, and almost as boring as one."
"I like pancakes," Terry said.
"Yeah, well, I don't see you falling over Morag McDougal..."
"That is because," Terry said proudly, "I am in love with Lisa Turpin."
"So you keep telling us," Michael said, "but you know Lisa. Won't let a boy come near her without the proper documentation."
"I happen to admire her adamant feminism," Terry said defensively.
Eager to avoid an argument about the pros and cons of feminism that inevitably arose when Terry got into one of his Lisa-dazes, Anthony decided to change the subject swiftly. "How about Padma, then?"
"To tell you the truth, she rather scares me," Michael said. "I mean, she's nice enough, but... I don't know. Her and Lisa. They're pretty intense ladies."
Terry smiled fondly. He had been all dopey like this since the Yule Ball had been announced. It was quite unlike him - another reason why Anthony wished that his housemates would stop acting like Muggles from American movies and more like sensible Ravenclaws.
Then again, maybe sensible wasn't the word for it, he thought as Michael began gesticulating as to the breast sizes of various girls in their grade. "I could always take a younger girl," he thought aloud, "that Ginny Weasley is a nice catch. But there's always the risk that they won't be the type to start the night dancing and end it in a broom cupboard."
Terry snorted. "Mike! You can't possibly be planning to lose your virginity in a broom closet at the tender age of fifteen!"
Michael shrugged. "I wouldn't be the first. You know that ugly Slytherin slapper, Bulstrode?"
"Millicent?"
"Yeah. Well, rumour has it she'll spread her legs for all and sundry. Even Gryffindors, at a push."
"That doesn't mean you have to do the same," Anthony scolded.
"Not with her," Michael said quietly.
Anthony frowned. "We should be getting to dinner."
"Hold on!" Terry cried. "I left the letter I wrote for Lisa up in our dorm."
He dashed off without another word.
"I hate him like this," Michael muttered.
"Yeah, he's worse than usual," Anthony replied as Terry came bolting down the stairs, letter clasped tightly in his hands.
"Dinner?" he said. The other two nodded.
The table was just filling up as they got down to the great hall, and they sat down in their usual configuration, Anthony across the way from the other two.
"Where's Lisa?" Terry whispered anxiously. "I haven't seen her yet! Have you guys?"
"Nope," Michael said somewhat dismissively.
Anthony probably would have responded, but something tall, gorgeous, blonde and very male had just strolled into his peripheral vision.
"Is this seat taken?" asked the Beauxbatons boy, in surprisingly accented English. He didn't sound French at all. He looked sort of like a prince, the way he carried himself. His strawberry-blonde hair lay wayward around his face, and he had a gleam in his thin, hazel eyes.
Anthony's neural connections decided to momentarily disable themselves, and he just sat there and gaped.
"Oh, no," he managed to choke out, his tomato soup sticking in the back of his throat. "Do sit down."
"Thanks," the boy said, climbing onto the bench, dangerously close to Anthony. "Haven't seen you around before," he said in his perfect English, ladelling some tomato soup into his bowl. "I was pretty sure I'd met everyone in your grade."
Anthony noticed briefly that Terry had noticed Lisa, and Michael had followed him over to where she was sitting, presumably to witness his humiliation.
"I don't know what grade you think I'm in," Anthony said, not looking properly at this utter distraction of a boy, "but you clearly haven't."
"Well, you're a seventh year, aren't you?" the boy asked.
Anthony raised his eyebrows. "Fourth, actually."
The Beauxbatons boy looked slightly alarmed for a moment, but then composed himself and extended a hand. "I'm Karl-with-a-K Dupont."
"That's not your real name, surely?"
"No, it's just Karl," he said with a laugh. "I just like to introduce myself with a bit of flair. So who are you?"
Anthony was taken aback momentarily by his bluntness. "I, uh- Anthony Goldstein."
"Nice meeting you, Anthony," Karl said.
"You speak English very well," Anthony blurted out, unable to stop himself.
"I'm from Canada," he said. "French Canada."
"Oh," Anthony intoned. It seemed that Karl had rendered him somewhat ineloquent. "So why're you at a French school?"
"My parents are d-i-v-o-r-c-e-d," he said, "so I used to spend half the year in Montreal and half in Paris. I got two offers for schools - Beauxbatons and Pearlmont in Canada. But they speak mainly English there, and I mainly speak French, so..."
Anthony nodded his understanding, somewhat uncomfortably. He hadn't meant to get Karl's life story, honestly. Suddenly, his conversation with Karl was interrupted by Terry and Michael rushing up to him.
"Ant, man, you just missed the funniest shit ever!" Michael gushed. Terry looked deeply embarrassed.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Terry just gave his love sonnet to Lisa!"
"And?"
"She read it aloud!" Michael said with a laugh. Evidently this was extremely amusing.
Anthony frowned. "It wasn't that bad, was it, Terry?"
Terry flushed. "It was pretty bad. Morag, Padma and Mandy were all there. They were laughing too. She'll never come to the Ball with me now," he moaned.
"I don't see what all the fuss is about this Ball," Karl said, butting into their conversation. "I mean, if you're going to ask a girl out, why do you need an excuse like a Ball to do it? Just go for it."
Terry blushed slightly. "Who are you, and why do you feel confident to give me romantic advice?"
"I'm Karl-with-a-K," Karl said, evidently nonplussed that he'd just been insulted by someone three years his junior, "and you'd be surprised."
"Well thanks for the wisdom, Karl-with-a-K," Terry spat, "but I think I can deal with my problems on my own."
He stormed off in the direction of the Ravenclaw tower. Michael shrugged and followed him.
"I should go," Anthony said to Karl.
"Fair enough," Karl said, "say sorry to your friend for me. I didn't mean to piss him off."
"Sure," Anthony mumbled, rushing off after Michael and Terry.
When he got up to the common room, they weren't there, so he presumed they'd be up in the dorms. He was right, of course.
"Your new Beauxbatons friend isn't very nice, is he?" Terry muttered.
"Karl sends his apologies," Anthony said, not thinking of anything else to say.
Terry harrumphed.
"Yeah, Terry, he can't help it," Michael said comfortingly, "he's Canadian."
"How do you know that?" Anthony asked. "Have you met him before?"
"Well, it's kinda easy to tell from his accent," Michael said.
"Oh," Anthony said, not entirely sure whether he'd actually not picked up on that, or whether he'd been distracted by the fact that Karl was really bloody mind-meltingly hot.
"Come on, Goldilocks, you're meant to be the smart one," Michael said, somewhat annoyed, "you should've picked up on that."
"Probably," Anthony mumbled, collapsing onto his bed.
"Something's not right," Terry said, picking up on Anthony's distraction immediately. "What's going on, Anty?"
"Did Karl jinx you, or something?" Michael asked.
Far from it, Anthony thought, but he wouldn't voice that aloud. Probably just saying Karl's name would break him completely.
Oh shit.
One encounter, and he was absolutely smitten.
This did not bode well.
xxx
"Come on," Michael said, "you've got to pick someone."
"Why?" Anthony snapped. They were walking down to the Great Hall for lunch, and much to his annoyance, Anthony was still being pestered about who he was going to ask to the Yule Ball. "I'm not taking anyone. Anyway, you still haven't said who you're going to ask."
Michael looked smug. "I don't need to ask anyone. I'll just sit back and wait for the offers to roll in."
Terry and Anthony exchanged pained looks.
"What?" Michael said, a hint of having taken offence in his voice. "I'm not pathetic like Terry here, pinning all my hopes on one woman. I'm just keeping my options open…"
"Nothing wrong with knowing your own mind," Terry said. "I know that the only person I could ever take to the Yule Ball is Lisa, so it's her or no-one. Preferably her. Same with you, right, Ant? I mean, if you're not in love with anyone, what's the point?"
"Sex," Michael answered immediately.
Anthony blushed. "Terry's right. I know my own mind, and I'm not going to take anyone to the Ball."
"Yeah, but don't you want to get laid?" Michael asked, being a deliberate provocateur.
"He could," Terry mused, "I mean, you didn't say you weren't in love with anyone, did you?"
"I don't see how I could add anything else to this conversation," Anthony said as Michael and Terry laughed in a very un-Ravenclaw-like manner. "You two seem to have made up your minds already."
"He is, he is!" Michael cheered. "Who's the lucky lady, then? Do we know her? Is she a Witch or a Muggle?"
"Has she got anything on Lisa?" Terry added.
"I'm not in love with anyone," Anthony said grumpily as they approached the Hall. Mentally, he added "not a woman, at any rate". Well, the truth was, he didn't know if he was in love with anyone. For the sake of his sanity, he sincerely hoped not, because Karl (who he may or may not have had a massive crush on) was proving to be a destructive force indeed. He had been distracted all throughout Potions because the colour of the substance he was supposed to be churning out vaguely resembled the colour of Karl's eyes. That was most definitely unhealthy behaviour. He was quite positive that fifteen-year-old boys were supposed to think about sex, not how beautiful someone's eyes were, or the way their face lit up when they smiled, or what it might feel like to kiss them.
It had been a couple of days since Karl had introduced himself to Anthony, and Anthony had pretty much been thinking non-stop about him. It didn't help that Karl seemed to have decided that he much preferred Anthony and his friends (who'd mostly gotten over their lackluster first impressions of Karl) to his Beauxbatons colleagues, and he'd taken to sitting with them at mealtimes. Right next to Anthony.
"I can believe it, actually," Michael said. "You don't seem like the type to fall in love until you're sure you've completed all your homework and passed your exams."
Anthony punched him on the arm. "You obviously don't know me that well then, do you?"
"So you are in love?" Michael asked, confused.
"No," Anthony replied, "but I could be."
They sat down at the Ravenclaw table, Michael and Terry still pondering Anthony's cryptic comment.
"Afternoon, boys," Karl said, taking his usual seat uncomfortably close to Anthony.
"Afternoon," Michael said, "what's happening on your side of the channel?"
Karl laughed. "I'm not coming here from France every day, you know."
"Some people don't appreciate a nice turn of phrase," Michael said, more to Terry and Anthony than Karl.
There were a few minutes without conversation as they got stuck into their lunch.
"Hey, Tony?"
"Who's Tony?" Terry asked. "I'm Terry, if that's what you're thinking of..."
"Oh," Karl said, slightly embarrassed, "actually, I meant Anthony. Don't people call you Tony?"
"No," Anthony said, "should they?"
"I don't know," Karl said. "I sorta just presumed... uh..."
"That's never really occurred to me," Anthony thought aloud.
"Me neither," Terry said. Michael nodded with his mouthful of bread-roll.
"Well, can I call you Tony?" Karl asked.
"I don't see why not," Anthony said. "What were you going to say earlier?"
Karl was quiet for a moment, as though deciding whether he wanted to speak. "Nothing, really, I was just going to ask if you're going with anyone to the Yule Ball."
Ignoring the subtext that probably wasn't there but that Anthony really wanted to be there, Michael said triumphantly "ha! See? It's normal to go to the Ball with a partner."
"I'm going alone," Anthony said directly to Karl, as though Michael hadn't spoken. "How about you?"
"I'll be flying solo too. We can hang out together, us dateless wonders."
Anthony's brain nearly imploded at the thought of "hanging out" with Karl at the Yule Ball. All of a sudden, his plate of food was incredibly interesting.
"Sounds like a plan," he mumbled, instantly regretting even opening his mouth.
Karl didn't seem to have noticed the awkwardness, nor did Terry. But even with his face pointing towards the table, Anthony could see the glint in Michael's eyes, and the grin spreading on his face.
"We've got to get to class," Michael said, "see you around, Frenchy."
"See you guys!" Karl said, smiling.
As soon as they were on their way to Charms, Michael grabbed Anthony around the shoulders, and whispered "you filthy liar" into his ear.
Anthony spun around. "What are you talking about?"
"You told us you didn't fancy anyone," Michael said with a wicked grin on his face.
"I don't," Anthony said quietly, but his heart wasn't really in his words.
"Oh!" Terry said suddenly. "Oh, no! Surely you've got better taste than that?"
Michael laughed loudly. "Come on, Terry, he's not bad looking..."
"He's a twat!" Terry said with a chuckle.
"He is NOT!" Anthony yelled suddenly, stopping in his tracks. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd felt the need to say it.
"You know what they say," Michael said to Terry, "love is blind."
"I don't... I don't... uh..."
"You really do," Michael said. "But don't worry, we won't tell anyone."
"Yeah," Terry said, "I mean, he's not my favourite person in the world, but if you like him, go for it. You know my opinions on following one's heart."
Anthony was slightly dumbstruck. "So, uh... I don't see either of you raising any objections to the obvious point that Karl is, well... you know... that I'm not..."
"Ant," Michael said firmly, "we don't care."
Terry nodded. "Nothing wrong with fancying other fellows. I mean, it's not something I'd ever do, but if that's how you swing, I've no objections."
Anthony could not but stand there and gape. They honestly couldn't have cared less. Part of him would have expected a stronger reaction from his best friends, but his rational, Ravenclaw mindset was enough to tell him that he could not wish for a more desirable outcome.
And that thought made him incredibly happy. He spent the rest of the day in an unstoppably elated mood.
That night at dinner, Michael and Terry had inexplicably decided to sit with some of the girls, leaving Anthony alone with Karl. For that hour, he let his heart take charge over his mind. It wasn't healthy. But it was damn fun.
xxx
It was the night before the Yule Ball, and all around the Ravenclaw tower, people were discussing what they were wearing, how they were doing their hair, how excited they were that the Weird Sisters were going to be playing. But in the corner by the staircase to the boys' dorms sat three fourth year boys, none of whom had dates.
"I just don't get it," Terry complained, "I've tried everything, but still no luck. I really would have thought Lisa would have come 'round by now!"
"Mate," Michael said, "maybe she just doesn't swing that way! Give it up; ask Padma or something. I don't think she has a date yet."
"You ask her," Terry said grumpily, "you don't have a date yet!"
"Odd, isn't it," Anthony said, "that the irresistible man can't get a date for the Yule Ball..."
"Shut up," Michael snapped.
Anthony and Terry grinned. "At least we know who we want to take," Terry joked.
"Alright!" Michael said, jumping up angrily. "I'll ask Padma."
Padma was sitting at the opposite end of the common room, chatting with Lisa.
"Padma, dearest," Michael began (somewhat suicidally) after crossing the room, "you wouldn't happen to have a date for the Yule Ball tomorrow, would you?"
"As a matter of fact," she said haughtily, "I do."
Michael's eyebrows raised. "Really? Who?"
"Ron Weasley," she said.
Michael snorted loudly. "Oh, come on, Padma," he said, "Weasley's a nice enough fellow, but he hasn't got much between the ears. And he's infinitely less attractive than yours truly..."
"Sorry, Michael," she spat, "why don't you go find someone who genuinely likes you. Oh wait, I forgot-"
"Hey, hold on," Lisa said suddenly, cutting in, "has Terry got a date yet?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, he's been trying to ask me all week, and... I don't know, I guess I feel kinda bad for not accepting his offer. I thought maybe he'd asked someone else by now."
"Better not let Terry know you're thinking that!" Michael joked. "If you accept him he might just wet his pants. And not with water, either."
Padma wrinkled her nose in disgust. "You're awful, Michael!"
"Thank you," he said, bowing exaggeratedly.
Lisa got up from her chair. "I'm going to say yes, Padma."
"If you say so," Padma said, still not over Michael's lewdness.
"Terry!" Lisa called resolutely, striding across the common room.
Terry looked up immediately, grinning at her. "Lisa! What can I do for you today?"
"You're going to the Yule Ball with me."
"I- what?"
"You don't have any say in the matter," she said as Anthony and Michael tried to restrain their laughter, "but I'm sure the arrangement will please you."
Michael couldn't hold it in any longer, and burst ought into a fit of giggles. Terry was looking shellshocked.
"I'll meet you in the common room at six tomorrow and we'll go down together," Lisa concluded, before walking back to where Padma was sitting, looking admiring.
"I'm so confused; did she just ask me out or what?" Terry asked as soon as Michael and Anthony had stopped laughing.
"I think so," Anthony said.
"One date down, two to go," Michael said with a frown.
There was a brief silence, broken by Terry, his face etched with a silly grin, saying "I'm going to the Ball with Lisa!"
xxx
"I'm not doing it," Michael said, "full stop. No way. No way in hell."
Anthony and Terry exchanged a look of amusement. It was the morning of the Yule Ball, and Michael still didn't have a date.
And there seemed to be only one girl left in the school who didn't have a date yet.
"Come on, Mike, just get it over with. It's one night of your life. Just ask her," Terry urged.
Michael's expression was sour as Terry and Anthony practically marched him over to the Hufflepuff table.
"Eloise," he said quietly, as though he couldn't believe the word was coming out of his mouth.
Eloise Midgen looked up. "Oh, hi Michael. What's up?"
Michael made a sort of strangled noise in his throat that turned into a cough. Although her acne had improved, Eloise's face still looked like it had been attacked by a swarm of very angry bees.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Have you got a date for the Yule Ball?" Michael near-shouted, very messily and very quickly.
Eloise blushed. "Oh, uh... no, I don't."
"Come with me, then," he said, his face twisted awkwardly.
Eloise's face was now so red that you could barely see half her spots. "Uh... sure, okay! I'd love to!"
Michael forced a smile. "I'll meet you down here six-fifteen-ish?"
"Sounds good," Eloise said, her stutter disappearing and her confidence growing.
Smiling painfully again, Michael mumbled a hasty goodbye and headed back to the Ravenclaw table with Terry and Anthony.
"I can't believe I just did that," he said, his face fallen.
Terry patted him on the back. "There, there, mate, that was mostly painless, wasn't it?"
Michael scoffed. "You know what this means, doesn't it?"
"What?" Terry said.
"Tony has to ask Karl to the Ball now."
"Absolutely not," Anthony said loudly, "forget it."
"Why ever not?" Michael asked, his "ohoho you're in for it now" face firmly in place.
Anthony rolled his eyes. "Oh, I don't know, Michael, ever heard of a little something called homophobia?"
"I have, and I think you shouldn't give a damn about it," Michael said firmly. Terry nodded.
"Listen, I don't care what people think about me, but I'd rather stay in the closet than walk down the corridor having hexes flung at me from all the nearby Slytherins, thanks."
Michael shrugged. "I was always under the impression that you were a strong-willed individual. Apparently I was wrong."
Anthony frowned. "I'm strong-willed. But I'm weak-boned."
They had reached the table, and Anthony automatically sat down next to Karl. "Hi," he said.
"Hey," Karl said with his usual cheery tone, "excited?"
"About what?"
"The Ball, of course!"
"Oh," Anthony said, "not really, no."
Karl rolled his eyes. "And you still don't have a date? No wonder you're not excited."
"Do you really think having a date would make me more excited?" Anthony asked, ignoring Michael and Terry, who were nodding from the other side of the table, their mouths full of toast.
"Your friends seem to think so," Karl said, gesturing across the table but not looking away from Anthony.
"They're wrong," he said.
"Do you want to test that theory?" Karl asked, his eyes glimmering with excitement. Michael and Terry nodded again.
"Not really," Anthony said, swallowing.
And just then something very strange happened. Anthony's left hand that was resting on the bench felt warmer than it had before, and a shiver flew up his spine.
"Stop being such a teenager," Anthony's brain told him, "his hand must just have slipped."
His whole body, however, was screaming variants on the phrases "snog him!" and "you need to upgrade your trouser size, young man!"
When Karl spoke, his voice was so soft that Anthony wasn't entirely sure whether he'd actually said anything or was just chewing with his mouth open.
"Tony, you idiot, are you even listening to me?"
"I'm not sure," Anthony said, looking anywhere but at Karl. "You did say something?"
"I asked you out to the Ball, actually."
Anthony felt a fork poking into the side of his arm. "Answer the man, Tony," Michael said, jabbing him threateningly.
When Anthony still couldn't bring his mouth to form words, Terry said "I think that's a yes."
Karl smiled somewhere in the corner of Anthony's field of vision. "I'll take it as a yes, and if Tony's still in there somewhere, he can meet me down here at six thirty."
It was about then that Anthony realised that not only was Karl's hand still on his, but that their legs were now touching, and he wondered vaguely when and how exactly that had happened.
"Of course it's a yes," he said before he could stop himself.
"No, why did you say that?" his brain cried.
And then somehow Karl's fingers and his became indistinguishable, and Anthony privately told his common sense to go jump. Ravenclaw or not, surely he was allowed a bit of love in his life?
xxx
Terry stood anxiously in the Ravenclaw common room, flanked by Anthony and Michael. It was just about six o'clock, and Lisa still wasn't down. The three boys must have looked an odd sight. Michael's olive skin clashed painfully with his dark blue robes, Terry's hair was matted and messy from all the times he'd run his hand through it, and Anthony was a whiter shade of pale than he had ever been in his life.
"Terry!" Lisa called from the other end of the room.
He sprung to life immediately, the look of apprehension on his face replaced by one of adoration. "Lisa! You look simply fantastic!"
"As long as I don't look fantastically simple," she joked, holding out her arm.
Terry obligingly linked his own arm through hers, neither noticing nor caring that it was usually the man who offered his arm in these situations. When they made it down to the Great Hall, Eloise was waiting for Michael. Most of her acne had disappeared, and she was wearing stunning orange robes.
"Holy shit," Michael whispered, "not such a bad catch after all!"
He strutted confidently up to her, and surprised pretty much everyone by taking her hand and kissing it. They walked off together, arm in arm, to join the gathering students.
Terry nudged Anthony. "Hey, Tony, where's your date hiding?"
"Anthony has a date?" Lisa asked, evidently surprised.
Anthony pulled himself up to his full height. "What's so odd about that?"
"Nothing, nothing," Lisa said, "only I never really thought that you would be the type to take a date to the Ball, that's all."
"Nor did I," Anthony mumbled, surreptitiously glancing around to see if he could locate Karl. It wasn't six thirty yet, so..."
"Seen him yet?"
"Him?" Lisa said, grinning. "Good one, Ant."
Anthony blushed.
"So who is he?" Lisa asked.
"You know that blonde guy from Beauxbatons who's taken to sitting with us?" Terry said.
Lisa nodded. "He's not bad-looking at all."
Just over the other side of the throng was Karl, making his way in with the other Beauxbatons students. He was chatting to Fleur Delacour, their school champion, but didn't seem to be too involved in the conversation. His eyes were wandering all over the Hall. Fleur nudged him and gestured to where Anthony was standing, and Anthony quickly turned back to Terry and Lisa. Mere moments later, Karl tapped him on the shoulder and gestured that they go and find themselves a table.
xxx
"Terry! Lisa!" Padma shouted, dashing up to them. "Guess what?"
"What?" Terry asked, slightly annoyed at being interrupted during dancing with Lisa.
"It's Anthony! He and that hot Beauxbatons boy he was hanging around with have just disappeared out of the Hall and into an empty classroom!"
"How do you know where they went?" Lisa asked wryly.
"I didn't follow them!" Padma insisted. "But one cannot help but notice these things..."
"Good for him," Terry said, "now, if you'll excuse us, Padma, Lisa and I were in the middle of a dance here."
Lisa blushed slightly, but quickly composed herself and looked disdainfully at Terry. Padma frowned. "Fine, then, I'll go tell Michael."
Michael was over the other side of the Hall, and having long since given Eloise the slip was now chatting up Ginny Weasley.
"Michael!" Padma said. "Guess what?"
"What?" Michael asked, slightly annoyed at being interrupted during chatting up Ginny.
"Anthony and that hot Beauxbatons boy are-"
"Yeah, I know," Michael interrupted. "He told me that they were heading off early so that I could tell Terry if he asked once he'd finished being a lovesick loser. Save your breath, Padma."
Padma looked quite hurt, and walked off huffily without another word.
Ginny giggled once she was gone. "I didn't know that Goldstein was gay!"
Michael nodded sagely. "There's a lot you still have to learn, my dear child..."
Ginny giggled again, and Michael wondered whether Eloise giggled that much. He hadn't exactly given her much of a chance to laugh at any of his jokes. Then again, Ginny was a lot prettier.
xxx
Anthony wasn't entirely sure why he was letting Karl drag him out of the Great Hall an hour or so before the Yule Ball ended, and he wasn't sure why he'd felt the need to inform Michael. He wasn't sure what he was doing sitting on the edge of his desk - his desk! - in the Charms classroom, or what Karl was doing standing over him and touching his face and oh Merlin where was he putting Anthony's glasses?
And before he could ask Karl what was going on, there was a tongue in his mouth, and Anthony nearly shouted out "there's a tongue in my mouth!" in surprise, but of course he didn't, because he couldn't shout, because there was a tongue in his mouth. And the tongue was touching his tongue. And there were lips on his lips. And for a few uncomfortable moments everything was wet and squishy, and then it wasn't - it was just bloody fantastic.
And the jealous glances from the girls, the disgusted glares from the Slytherins, the outright amusement of all his friends - none of those things mattered the next morning at breakfast, because Anthony Goldstein was too busy holding Karl Dupont's hand under the table, which was nowhere near as uncomfortable as it had been the day before.
Give this little Jewish girl the best Christmas present of all - A REVIEW! :D
(Btw, if you think I've been doing this instead of working on Between Love and Hate and Sex, Communism and Other Subversive Activities, you'd be wrong. I wrote this in, like, October. Lol.)