Disclaimer: Code Lyoko does not belong to me, neither does Harry Potter or any of the merchandise or other characters. I am making no money on this.

Rating: G

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Pairing: Odd/Aelita friendship

Author's Note: This occurred to me the other day [Friday, July 20th to be precise and it's been wanting to be written. The Independence Day being referenced is in fact the French Independence Day which is July fourteenth. I think that's pretty much everything. Oh, and I made up Tonks' outfit cause I couldn't remember what she actually wore. Hehehe.

Dedication: To Tina because her birthday was Thursday. Happy fifteenth Tina! I hope you like the fic!

"Will you hurry up?"

"I still don't know why I'm exactly dressed like this."

He grinned, looking at her. She was tugging at the end of her pleated skirt, trying to stretch it down to beneath her knees when it was only supposed to reach mid-thigh with a button up shirt and sweater. She had on leggings and lace-up boots and hanging from her shoulders was a cloak of crushed velvet. She wore a confused and obstinate glare on her face and he could barely keep from laughing.

"Because everyone is."

"You aren't wearing a skirt. And anyway, it isn't Halloween."

He rolled his eyes – they had been through this before. Anyway, of course he wasn't going to wear a skirt. He had on the finest black robes; a skirt would look absolutely ridiculous. Besides, he really didn't have the legs for a mini skirt, not like she did anyway…He smirked at her and she stuck her tongue out.

"Explain to me once more just why we're doing this?" she repeated, flopping down on the couch as he pulled on his own shoes.

"Because."

"That is not an answer," she snapped back irritably. He snickered until she threw a couch pillow at him and it connected solidly with his head. Despite the size and general consistency of the offending pillow it really did hurt. "I feel utterly ridiculous. And I still don't know why…?"

"…You're dressed like this, I know, I know." He mumbled something under his breath, standing up and stretching, tossing the pillow back at her. She squealed, ducking and it glanced off her shoulder. "Come on then, we're going to be late."

Her frustration was mounting. He could see it in the head tilt and hear it in the whine. "To where?"

"To the Ball of course," he replied. He glanced down quickly, pretending to straighten his badge to keep her from seeing the smirk plastered across his face. This was almost too much fun. When he looked at her again he saw her staring at him with a puzzled frown marring her innocent features, turning green eyes quizzical.

"What Ball? And why are we going dressed as this to a Ball?"

"Questions, questions. All will be answered in time. When have I ever given you doubt to trust me?" She wrinkles her nose and he leaves the room before she has the chance to respond. He isn't sure he really wants to hear the answer. Maybe she didn't understand the term "rhetorical".

"Hey! Hey, wait up!" she called. He heard her running after him, tripping on the boots by the sound of something colliding painfully with wood. He winced in sympathy, pausing at the front door to wait for her.

"You okay?"

"Oh yes, fine. Perfectly fine!" she grumbled, rubbing her knee as she limped over. He shrugged, offered an apologetic smile, and opened the door, letting in the overly warm summer heat. "Wait, you were serious? We're really leaving the house dressed as…dressed as this?" she demanded.

He laughed uncontrollably, pulling her out of the door and down the three front steps to the sidewalk. "Of course we are. I told you we were going to a ball. What'd you expect?" he demanded, smirking once more.

"I thought you were joking around!" He gives his head a shake, heading down the street and she rushes along, trying to keep pace with him. "Odd! Odd, where are we going? Odd!"

"It's not far and don't worry, okay?"

"Don't worry? Don't worry? Odd Della Robbia, tell me this instant where we're going or I won't take a step more!" she hisses. He stops, turning to face her and her eyes are stormy. "I mean it. I won't."

"I believe you," he answers with a faint shrug. "Look, I told you, it's a Ball. The Hallows Ball if you want to be precise. Come on, I know you'll love it." She frowns and he knows he's winning. He creeps up to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Come on Princess, you'll love it. And everyone else will be dressed like us."

"But it isn't Halloween," she repeats softly and he knows he's won.

"No, it's not. But it's almost as good."

"You said that about Independence Day."

"True," he concedes, then grins. "Come on!" He pulls her along before she can protest and she grumbles under her breath but doesn't protest.

They reach the building just as the town clock chimes ten and he grins, stopping her outside the building and eyeing her. She's staring at the warm golden lights shining inside, at the people dressed in cloaks and robes, hats and capes, and he can't help but smile as the yellow light warms her pale skin and makes her eyes twinkle. Or maybe that was her own doing? He reached out, brushing a hand against her arm and she tore her eyes from the scene before her, turning to face him.

"Yes?"

"You won't turn into a cinder girl at midnight, will you?" he asked. He isn't sure if she knows the story of Cinderella but he feels the need to ask anyway. She surprises him though by the brilliant smile she flashes at him.

"As long as you don't turn into a pumpkin."

He chuckles quietly, swinging his arm easily around her shoulders. "Don't worry. You're stuck with me exactly as I am."

They make their way up the front steps and through the doors and he's grinning as she's looking around, wide-eyed at the gathered group of witches and wizards. In one corner is an on-going debate, in another a spelling contest that he's sure she'll win even if she's never picked up a book, a third has a display set up where you can have your photo taken, and a fourth has some sort of game that involves plenty of cheering. It's the middle of the room though that catches his eye.

"Oh, good!" She gives him a look and he grins, gesturing to the center and her look is intensified. He can feel the confusion radiating from her. "The costume contest is about to begin!"

"But…wait? Are we dressed in costumes?"

He fights to keep the grin from his face, pulling his best duh look. "Of course Princess, this is the Hallows Ball, you know, for Harry Potter…Ow!" He glares and rubs his arm as she narrows her eyes at him.

"Harry Potter? That book?" she demands. He nods and she snorts. "Not you too! All Jeremie went on about when I spoke with him was that book!"

Odd almost choked as he stared at Aelita. "Jer reads Harry Potter?" Somehow that image didn't seem to fit into his mind. He frowned, trying to picture it but it just didn't seem plausible. Not at all.

"Of course he does," she mutters. She grumbles under her breath before staring at him. "I don't know anything about the books Odd, or even the movies! I only saw the first two. Who am I supposed to be anyway?"

He smirks. "Tonks."

"Who?"

"Nymphadora Tonks. Don't worry about it, she's awesome." She bites her lip and he smiles at her reassuringly. "You don't have to do anything, just stand there and look cute and I'm sure you'll win. After all, you're a natural pink-head."

"Oh…shut-up," she mutters, swatting at him once more. He ducks aside before catching her hand and dragging her to the costume-judging area. "I'm going to kill you for this," she whispers under her breath.

"That's okay," he replies with a smug smile. "You can tell me how much you hate me after you win and I buy you a bag of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Jelly Bean."

"A bag of what?" she asks, half turning as he shoves her into the taped off area.

"You have so much to learn," he sighs, glancing at the clock, "and so little time."

He grins as she glares while being dragged by an over enthusiastic witch with a microphone to the viewing platform. Yep, she definitely had a lot to learn about human pastimes. Thank God she was staying with him over the summer so he could teach her everything that he knew Jeremie wouldn't. He offered her a wave and she couldn't keep the smile off her face no matter how hard she tried. He knew deep down she'd have fun, that she believed in magic.

He just has to get her to admit it.