Dislaimer: I don't own these characters or this universe.
Warnings: slash. don't like, don't read. simple enough :D
--- Chapter One ---
It was ten months since Voldemort had been defeated, or more accurately blown to smithereens by a particularly vicious killing curse.
It was nine months since the last of the Death Eaters had been found, captured and fed to the Dementors.
It was eight months since the Wizarding World had truly come to terms with being free from terror.
It was seven months since Harry had hit Ron soundly around the head and told him that if he didn't ask Hermione out, he could find someone else to moan to when she started dating a guy with more courage than a wet rag.
It was six months since Hermione had asked Ron out.
It was five months since The Truce.
It was four months since the student population of Hogwarts had become accustomed to seeing Draco and Harry talking amicably to each other and had stopped shielding themselves from hexes whenever the two met in a corridor.
It was three months since House rivalries had practically become a thing of the past.
It was two months since Harry had rather effectively outed himself to the school by dating Blaise Zabini.
It was two weeks since Blaise had broken it off.
But, most importantly, it was now only ten minutes until the Valentine's ball and Harry was currently standing in a black shirt and a pair of mismatched socks, staring balefully into his mirror. Just because he didn't have a date, didn't mean he couldn't make an effort to look good and if he managed to turn Blaise's head then so much the better. However, with his hair currently resembling a bird's nest in a bomb blast, and his dress robes nowhere to be seen, this plan was more than a little patchy.
"Ron?"
Harry attacked his hair again, eyeing his friend in the mirror.
"Ron?"
The other boy didn't seem to hear him - he was apparently wrestling with a pair of trousers, trying to do them up.
"RON!"
The boy yelped and spun around.
"Are those mine?" Harry asked Ron's reflection, motioning to the trousers with his elbow while still valiantly attempting to flatten his hair.
"Huh?" Ron stared blankly down at the trousers and the two inches of ankle that could be seen below the hems. "Oh, damn. Where the hell are mine then?" Flustered, he tried to step out of both legs at once, stumbled and flung himself at the curtains around his bed as he fell. There was a ripping sound and for one horrible moment, Harry feared for the state of his trousers. Then he saw Ron on the floor with half a curtain lying on top of him.
"Ah, bloody bed," cursed Ron, rubbing his elbow as he sat up, his ankles still encased in the trousers.
"Aw, did you get a boo-boo?" Harry narrowly avoided the cushion flung at him. It sailed past to slam into the door frame, just as the door itself opened. Ginny strode in sporting a knee-length, lime green dress that flared out at the waist.
"Jeez, what happened? All you had to do was get yourselves dressed." A smirk tugged at her mouth as Ron attempted to free his legs. "Anyway, Hermione says that if you're not down in five minutes, she's going to find Michael Corner instead."
This time the pillow hit the door as it closed behind Ginny's rapidly retreating form.
"You all done with these then?" muttered Harry, picking his trousers up off the floor as Ron rummaged in his trunk.
Six and a half minutes later, having once again given up on his hair Harry traipsed down to the Common Room, Ron hopping behind as he pulled on one of his socks.
"Finally," snapped Hermione in exasperation, "Come on." She shooed them out, ignoring Ron's complaints as he tried to negotiate the portrait hole wearing half a sock.
When they finally reached the entrance hall, feet properly attired and all, most people had already gone in.
"'Mione, you look... good," breathed Ron, finally seeing her properly now he'd finished with his feet.
She grinned, "You don't look too shabby either."
"No, I mean it, you really look special."
She did as well. Quite different from the Yule Ball - her hair was down this time, her wild curls tamed to weave gently down to her shoulders. The dress was strapless and floor-length, fish-tailing out at the bottom, midnight blue material shimmering in the light.
"I, uh, I got something for you," said Ron awkwardly, pulling out a small box that he had fortunately remembered to pick up. Harry knew what was in it - he'd had to bully Ginny into letting him know what colour Hermione's dress was for this.
Unsurprisingly enough, Hermione was delighted with the three-string, silver necklace within. It had three blue beads spaced along each string. Harry winced as Ron fumbled the catch, finally managing to get it done up round Hermione's neck, but she didn't mind. She just kissed him fondly and took his arm as they walked through the doors. It had, Harry reflected, been worth allowing Ron to practise the whole scenario on him earlier. Well, not the whole scenario.
Glancing around, he saw that he was now one of the last few in the hall and went in, willing himself not to scan each of the tables for him.
It was no use. Harry was barely inside the Great Hall before he saw Blaise, looking divine in pale dress robes. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he ground to a halt. Blaise was laughing at something Terry Boot had just said and Harry could very happily have punched the Ravenclaw boy at that moment. Luckily, Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him over to their table where Seamus, Dean, Neville and now Ron and Hermione were already seated. It was only then Harry noticed that the four long tables had been replaced with thirty or so small, round tables, each covered with a black table cloth and a large vase full of various red flowers. Candles hovered low overhead and hundreds of tiny, white paper hearts fluttered down from the ceiling. Harry picked one out of the air as he sat down next to Hermione.
"Fun aren't they? It's the same lot falling all the time - you see," she said as he dropped the heart onto the floor, only to see it vanish, "they disappear when they hit the ground and reappear at the top again. It's all in Hogwarts..."
"A History," finished Ron and Harry simultaneously.
Hermione gracefully ignored them and continued, "You can do it with practically anything, you know. 'Aqua Orbis' for rain, 'Folium Orbis' for leaves, 'Pluma Orbis' for feathers-"
Ron choked on his drink. "Feathers?" he asked, incredulous, "Who wants feathers falling continuously on them?"
Hermione huffed in a way Harry could have sworn she'd learned from Madame Pince, "I believe it was a custom a few centuries ago, when the people at a party would-"
Ron cut across her gently, "You know what, Hermione, never mind. You can have feathers if you want." Instead of being angry at the interruption, Hermione smiled at him. Harry saw Ron put his hand over hers and whisper something in her ear.
Fortunately, at that moment Dumbledore stood up at the teachers' table and tapped the side of his glass. The conversation in the Great Hall, as ever, ceased instantly.
"Welcome, one and all to this Valentine's Ball. Tonight is a time to dance, drink and be merry, but above all, eat, so I bid you tuck in," said Dumbledore. It seemed to be the same system as at the Yule Ball, judging by the way that he sat down and said clearly to his plate, "Toad in the hole, please."
Well that or he was talking to crockery again.
"So what's this about you and Michael Corner, Hermione?" asked Dean as he started in on a rib-eye steak.
Ginny jumped in before Hermione could answer, "He's got a huge crush on her. He asked her to the ball."
"He has not got a crush on me," snapped Hermione. She'd had to endure constant teasing from Ginny this past week, despite the fact that she'd protested frequently that it was not a laughing matter, and he was very sweet to ask her.
"Sorry, 'Mione, but he trails about after you like a lovesick puppy," said Harry, straight-faced, "I'm surprised Ron hasn't beaten him up yet."
"Me too," muttered Ron darkly. He speared a potato on his fork and glared at it so hard you would have thought it had been the one to chat up his girlfriend.
"Come on, he's not that bad," said Hermione, "and it's not like I said yes," she added sharply, looking at Ron.
Sensing an argument brewing, Harry shot Ginny a silencing look and turned quickly to Neville, "Is Luna still ill, Nev?"
"Yeah, she's in the infirmary."
"Aw, that's too bad. It's a shame for her to miss this," said Harry, secretly relieved that he never got to see the dress Luna had prepared for the ball. Apparently she'd made it from an old patchwork quilt for her cousin's wedding.
"I don't think she minds too much. She doesn't really go for dancing. She only said she'd come to keep me company."
"Hang on," cut in Seamus, "I thought Lisa Turpin asked you to go with her."
"Oh, she did," said Neville mildly, "I just... didn't feel like an actual date."
"Oh." Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for Neville. He was a nice, friendly guy who had zero luck with girls. They either left him well alone, or paid him attention only when he had a crush on someone else. He had a sneaking suspicion that Neville had really wanted to come with Parvati Patil.
"Me either, Neville," said Ginny, raising her glass triumphantly, "Far too many single guys to pick from. This way I can dance with whoever I choose."
Neville nodded, an odd look on his face. Poor guy. Maybe Harry could try to hook him up with Parvati later.
"You planning to dance with every boy then?" asked Ron.
"Don't be silly. Only as many as I can lay my hands on," Ginny smiled sweetly at her brother.
Noticing the odd colouring of Ron's face, Harry turned and said, "Hey, don't tease him." However, Ginny's mischievous look was infectious and he added, "You'll make him paranoid. He'll start glaring at every guy in the room."
"He can glare at whoever he wants," she stated confidently, "but I didn't buy this dress for sitting around in."
Silence descended on the table for a while, everyone just eating quietly. Eventually Hermione got up to refill her drink from the fountain at the side of the hall. It was a beautiful creation - the punch cascaded down like a waterfall over an invisible structure. Flitwick had explained the charms behind it last lesson, but Harry couldn't even begin to remember any of them. The effect was amazing though.
As soon as Hermione was out of earshot, Seamus and Dean leaned in conspiratorially.
"Guess what," whispered Dean.
Harry rolled his eyes at Ron, wondering what prank they were up to now. Since the departure of the Weasley twins, Seamus and Dean had taken up the troublemaker mantle. After Voldemort had been defeated, the relief spreading through the Wizarding World had made them virtually unstoppable.
"What?" asked Ron, excitement seeping into his voice.
With the air of a magician unveiling his piece de resistance, Seamus said, "We're spiking the teacher's punch."
Harry stared at them. "You're what?" They'd done some crazy things, but this? It could get them in a lot more trouble than, say, "accidentally" letting all of the frogs from transfiguration class out into the corridors. "How?"
Dean looked at him like he was the nutter. "With alcohol, obviously."
"We've got it under the table," said Seamus proudly, "We put it there while everyone was crowding in. When people start dancing, we'll slip it into the punch bowl. They have a separate one for the teachers on their table."
Harry looked - it was true, there was indeed a large punch bowl at one end of the teachers' table. How fortunate. "You can't do this."
"Why not. Don't tell me you wouldn't enjoy seeing McGonagall drunk as the proverbial newt." Seamus and Dean grinned at each other and even Ron's eyes lit up.
"That's beside the point," argued Harry, fully aware that he was fighting a losing battle.
Neville was looking between the teachers table and them. "You'll never manage it," he said.
"Wanna bet?" The look of defiance on Seamus' face was definitely of Weasley origin.
"No," said Neville flatly. He'd already lost six Galleons over the frog incident.
Dean surveyed the rest of the table. "Harry?"
"You know what," he said, "I think I will. Because I don't think even you two can get past Dumbledore and Snape. I'll give you two Galleons if you spike the punch, five if no-one notices when they drink it."
"You're on," muttered Seamus excitedly, "We've got special tasteless rum from Fred and George - it's undetectable."
"Even to Snape?" Harry shot back.
The confidence in Seamus' voice stayed level as he repeated, "It's tasteless," but he didn't look quite so sure anymore.
From the other side of the table, Ginny hissed, "You'll never do it - that man would detect two drops of water in a glass of fire-whiskey. I'll bet you the same as Harry."
Dean's eyes practically glowed. "Looks like we're going to be raking it in tonight, Seamus. What about you, Ron?"
Ron waved his hands as if to ward them off with a firm, "No thank you. Not after last time. Anyway, Hermione would kill me."
"Why?" Hermione was back from the fountain, with a look of suspicion etched on her face. She looked from Seamus to Dean then back to Ron, who gulped audibly.
"No reason," he practically whispered.
Seamus chuckled loudly and said, "He's planning to steal Michael Corner from you."
Hermione flicked her eyes around the table, looking dubious. She was met with innocent looks. Finally, realising she wouldn't get anywhere near the truth, she sighed and sat down, saying, "He's more than welcome. Just don't bring him back to my rooms, honey."
Ginny snorted.
"Anywaaay," drawled Seamus, "how come Harry hasn't had to answer up to his singleness tonight?"
Harry looked at him sharply, vaguely aware that everyone else was doing the same. "Well, you know I was thinking about bringing Blaise," he said coldly, "but oh wait, he dumped me."
Seamus barely batted an eyelid. "So? You should have brought someone to rub in that bastard's face."
"Leave off," snapped Ginny. "Just because you and Dean are hideously happy together doesn't mean the rest of us need be."
"I'm just saying, a bit of arm-candy goes a long way towards getting an ex back." Harry would bet another five Galleons that, if asked then and there, Seamus could name five guys dressed up well enough that evening to earn the title 'arm-candy' without even looking round.
"What makes you think I want him back," asked Harry, morosely.
It wasn't just Seamus who rolled his eyes at that. Everyone round the table did too, as Ron said, "No offense, but we live in the same dorm as you. You've been moping the whole time. Not to mention the look on your face when you saw him with Terry Boot."
Oh yeah, that'd probably do it.
He couldn't think of a snappy comeback that would somehow distract the pitying expressions so didn't reply. Thankfully, he was saved by the arrival of the pudding menus. After choosing their desserts, the rest of the table set to discussing whether it would be actually physically possible for Crabbe or Goyle to dance without crushing someone. Harry let his eyes wander over the rest of the people in the hall, carefully avoiding looking at the one person he wanted to. On a table nearby some of the sixth years were busy describing a party that had been held by the Hufflepuffs after the last Quidditch match. A Slytherin Harry didn't recognise made a face as he explained how Snape rarely, if ever, allowed them to have a party in the dungeons. Further over, Harry could see Lavender Brown entwined around the arm of Anthony Goldstein, dressed in what looked like a pink, frilly wedding dress.
Draco Malfoy looked up then from somewhere behind one of Lavender's preposterously large sleeves and caught Harry's eye, grimacing as he flicked his eyes briefly at the dress before him. Harry was surprised to note that everyone else on Draco's table was paired up, meaning the Ice Prince had actually come alone to the ball. The boy looked, Harry had to admit, really rather fine. Harry had almost expected some incredibly expensive and flashy silver cloak, but he was dressed instead in just black, with only a slight silver trim at the edge of the cloak. It was all perfectly tailored, of course, the trousers and shirt hugging tightly to his lithe frame. It begged the question once more as to why he didn't have a date. Shrugging mentally, Harry looked back at his own table to see that both Neville and Ginny had left to fill up their drinks, leaving him in the company of Happy Couple #1 and Happy Couple #2.
Perfect.
He quickly turned his attentions to the staff table. Dumbledore appeared to be having a very intense debate with Professor Vector over something - they had abandoned their desserts and were quite clearly discussing an equation that had been drawn in mid-air with a wand. Harry scanned the other teachers, noting both Trelawney and Pomfrey's absences. His eyes locked with Snape's. The man was clearly already bored with the evening, being surrounded not only by Vector and Dumbledore as they continued their argument, but also, on the other side, by Flitwick and Sinistra, who, judging by the laughter and looks of recollection on their faces were reminiscing about the past. Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry, taking in the two couples currently sharing each other's puddings beside him. Harry rolled his eyes back, used to these wordless communications with his Potions master.
Back when Ron and Hermione had first started going out, they used to whisper and smile at each other in classes when they thought teachers weren't watching. In the first Potions lesson, Snape had taken fifteen points off Gryffindor before they'd even begun brewing. It didn't stop them though, and in an effort to keep the peace, Harry caught Snape's eye when he looked up again and sighed dramatically, grimacing at the love-struck pair beside him. It was enough to make Snape stare, unaccustomed to students voluntarily drawing attention to themselves in his class, especially this particular one. For a moment, Harry thought he was going to put him in detention for even daring to look away from his cauldron. He'd certainly had detentions for a lot less than eye-contact before. But, whether it was post-war joy or the effects of the potions' fumes getting to him, Snape just smirked and gave the tiniest of nods, apparently content to let the points slide in order to watch Harry suffer.
Of course, Harry was less impressed with the situation after a couple of weeks of working with Ron's back. It would then have been easiest just to look indifferent and allow Snape to take points away again, but he actually enjoyed getting looks from Snape that would have been described as sympathetic had they come from anyone else. Somehow the two of them had stumbled into some sort of bizarre, silent truce, and it was nice to not be constantly arguing in lessons. Although it was certainly weird the first time he'd actually heard Snape speak civilly to him. He'd been halfway down the corridor when the man had called him back to the classroom. When he got there, Snape held out Harry's Potions textbook that he must have left on his desk.
"Thanks," he murmured, shoving the book into his bag. He was turning to go when he heard, "Good potion today, Potter." Snape looked as stunned as Harry felt hearing himself say those words, but he didn't add a snarky comment onto the end to cover up. Harry eventually recovered and grinned before leaving. The next lesson, after Harry had made his customary face at Ron and Hermione's continued obsession with each other, Snape had flicked his eyes at Harry's work then very subtly motioned towards the gnoggot Harry was dicing, and mouthed the word 'Finer'.
Harry pulled himself back to the present as his brain picked up on movement. Snape had reached into his robes and pulled out a small unlabelled bottle. Judging by the amber hue of the liquid inside, it was a bottle of fire-whiskey. Snape half-filled the glass in front of him and gave Harry a sardonic smirk as he raised his glass at him and then downed it in one.
Well, there was one teacher who would probably be unaffected by Seamus and Dean's prank. Harry began to wonder about whether he could still back out of the bet - with Snape laying into the liquor, his chances of losing increased tenfold.
AN: hey guys. sorry i've been MIA for a while - i started university at the beginning of october, so life's been busy for a few months. for anyone who's also reading MTWBF, don't worry, i am continuing with it, i'm just a little stuck at the moment, inspiration-wise.
as for this fic, i have some more waiting to go out, but not enough for a chapter, yet. i haven't written anything in a bit, so i can't make any guarantees as to the speed of delivery for the rest of this, but with any luck it shouldn't be too long. i started this quite a while ago, and seeing as it will only be about 4 chapters long, i might actually finish it :D
hope you liked it so far!