A/N: I had a computer disaster that slowed me up from editing and posting this week. This is being done on a cheap replacement computer…if my technology works…. Everybody keep your fingers crossed for me. Also, I've taken comments under advisement and will endeavor to revamp some sections in future that were drafted with dialogue lifted from the books into smoother, more original sections. This happens less and less as we go forward, but I do understand why some people find this uncomfortable or distasteful to read.
Cheers!
C
Sera squeezed her hands together, sitting with Ginny and the twins and Ron. Ernie had offered for her to sit with him, but she didn't want to be apart from Ginny. Still, after her talk with Harry, she was feeling violently toward Ron.
The crowd was informed what the champions were being asked to do—each was selected to get past a nesting mother dragon to get a golden egg, which held the clue for their next task. She squeezed her hands tighter together and Fred leaned in, winking at her.
"A little wager?" he said.
"Leave her alone," Ginny snapped.
"Oh, at least let her tell me who she's going to pick," Fred said, leaning close.
"Harry," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. Ron's ears turned red.
Cedric came out first, and he looked about as sick as Seraphina felt. He approached his dragon and did a quick bit of transfiguration, turning a rock into a dog. Large enough to draw the attention of the dragon. It was good magic, and Sera held her breath as he tried to distract the dragon. It was a sound principle, really, except that the dog wasn't really moving as much as Cedric. He got his egg, but he was also brutally burned when the dragon decided he looked the more dangerous target. He got away, but he was rushed to the medical tent. She was dizzy during the scoring, not able to pay attention.
Fleur Delacour came next, and it was a decent effort. She did a special charm like nothing Sera had ever seen before, putting the dragon to sleep. It was much more effective than Cedric's attempt, in that the dragon truly was oblivious to her getting the egg. On the other hand, what she couldn't have foreseen was also almost her undoing: the dragon snored. A jet of flame caught her skirt on fire, although she was quick-thinking and managed to put it out with some quick water. It was a smaller jet than what Cedric was faced with, but she'd no doubt require treatment for burns, as well.
Viktor Krum came next, and Seraphina ignored the sighs of the girls around her. He wasn't even attractive. He looked so…moody. He came out to face his dragon and did some kind of curse at the eyes of the dragon. The dragon certainly didn't pay attention to Krum as he retrieved the golden egg, and Krum wasn't injured in any way, but the rampage the dragon went on crushed the other eggs, which certainly caused a drop in points. And Sera couldn't help thinking it was a terrible waste, too, for those eggs to be lost.
Then it was Harry's turn. The dragon he faced certainly looked the meanest of the four, with spikes all down her tail. Harry seemed to be in shock, completely unemotional as he came out. The crowd was hideously noisy, and she held her breath as he raised his wand.
She couldn't hear what he said, but she waited, waited, waited. He grew increasingly anxious as they waited. Suddenly, a broomstick came soaring toward him, whizzing to his hands. Bagman was giving commentary, shouting with excitement, and Harry swung his leg over the broom, kicking off. Sera leaned forward, reminded of the many Quidditch matches where Harry would soar overhead, looking for a tiny fleck of gold. Now, he was looking for a tiny fleck of golden egg, and perhaps the dragon was just Marcus Flint. Now she thought of it, they did look quite similar. He dived and dodged to avoid the dragon, and Sera didn't even realize she was standing until Fred stood next to her.
"Great Scott, he can fly!" Bagman cried. "Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?"
He got a bit burned, and the tail and its spikes caught his shoulder. He started to lead the mother further and further away from her eggs, gradually taunting her. Finally, the dragon spread her wings and rose into the air, goaded away from the eggs. Harry pulled into a sharp, quick dive, darting down to snatch up the golden egg, and then he zoomed away over the stands, to safety. Sera, who hadn't even cheered at the Quidditch World Cup, was screaming right along with the people around her.
"Look at that!" Bagman said. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!"
Sera was shaking, waiting for the scores. Fred congratulated her for her victory, as though she had anything to do with it, and she barely listened to the scores—which gave him a decent chance to do well in the tournament, going forward—before she watched Ron hurry down to the first aid tent. She sighed, relieved that was going to be fixed, and she almost followed him, but she didn't want to intrude.
Instead, she waited as near the first aid tent as she could justify, and she waited as Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked away from Rita Skeeter, who looked frustrated with whatever he said to her.
"Sera!" he said brightly, and he told Hermione and Ron he'd be right with them. She smiled, waiting. "Can you meet me in the morning?"
"Erm, yes?" she said.
"You said you had pictures?"
"Pictures?"
"Of your mum," he said, grinning. "You've been helpful to me, and it's my turn to return the favor. If Dumbledore isn't saying anything, then we're going to try a different approach. I want to help you find your father."
Her chest tightened and she thanked him, agreeing to meet him before breakfast, at their usual spot, by the lake. The rest of the day, she seemed to walk through it on a cloud, as though she were simply just watching, looking, at something that wasn't there. Like the world buzzing around her was a fantasy. Ginny asked what was wrong, and Sera said she was just tired.
Still, she woke up early, slipped the photo album into her bag, and hurried down to the lake before anyone else could stir and delay her.
Harry was waiting with a rucksack he would no doubt return to his room before breakfast. She sat beside him, ignoring the dew on the grass tickling her legs. She pulled out the photo album and said, "Thank you for this. I'm sure you're busy with that…clue."
"Yeah," he said, frowning. "It's a bit…. Well, anyway, I'd be an idiot not to help you. I know what it's like, not to know about family. You know, my aunt and uncle told me my parents died in a car crash?"
She snorted. Murdered by a dark wizard and car crash were a bit different. He asked if he could see the album and she passed it to him, watching him open the little book, to see a picture of her mother, with name and dates. He considered the photograph for a moment before turning to look at her, then back to the photograph.
"You look a lot like her," he said.
"No I don't," she said, her throat tightening.
"Sure, you do."
"No, she's beautiful."
He laughed a bit and shook his head, turning the page. She half-wished he'd insisted that she was beautiful, too, but she was glad he didn't. When he reached the photographs from the party, where she'd tried to find someone who might be her father he paused, frowning, rubbing his chin.
"Do you know what this is?" he said. His voice was urgent, excited.
"Erm, a party?"
"A wedding," he said, setting down her album. "I've seen this before."
"This wedding?" she asked, leaning in as he pulled something out of his bag—another photo album. "Why?"
"Because," he said, opening to the middle of his little album. "It's my parents' wedding."
He passed her the book and she held her breath, seeing his mother and father in the book. His father looked mostly like him, apart from the eyes. His mother was utterly beautiful, with auburn hair and a kind face, her eyes seeming to glow with happiness. A man over their shoulder was laughing, an arm around her. A handsome man, full of life and energy.
"Him!" she cried, flipping a page in her book. A picture of her mother with the same man, and a young Professor Lupin, sharing a glass of champagne and smiling, all of them. "I don't understand."
"I think our parents went to school together," he said, leaning in. "It would explain why Lupin knew your parents. Apparently, he knew mine really well. So your mum knew my mum, and I have a feeling it was the same with our dads."
"But how does this help us?" she asked, feeling her chest sink, rubbing her eyes. She laid back on the grass, looking up at the overcast, gloomy sky. Snow would come soon. "Professor Lupin already said he couldn't and wouldn't tell me."
Harry hummed.
"You said you knew your father didn't kill your mother," he said softly, and her insides squirmed. "How do you know?"
"Because," she said, reluctant. "He wasn't supposed to say anything about my parents, but Moody did tell me one thing. He told me who killed my mum."
"Why would he do that?"
"Because apparently it was Karkaroff," she said, the name sticking on her tongue. Harry's eyes widened, first from pity, then out of surprise. He seemed to think of something important and he stood, pacing back and forth in front of her, turning something over.
"What?" she asked, sitting up again.
"Lupin couldn't tell you anything because he made a promise to Dumbledore," he said slowly. "But I have a friend, someone else who went to school with them. And he might not know anything, but he might. And he won't have made any promises."
Her pulse raises, matching the frantic pace of his excitement. Did he know what he was offering her? Did he understand what this would mean?
"Who?" she asks, grabbing his hand as he passed. He paused, smiling at her, but he shook his head.
"I don't want to say," he said quickly. "Not until I have answers for you. But I'll ask him. I'll write him soon. If that's alright with you?"
She could have laughed if she wasn't so caught in her own throat. Sera assured him she wanted him to do whatever he thought he could or should. She couldn't believe he was helping her. Ernie had always sympathized, but he never lifted a finger. Ginny gave her encouragement, maybe the occasional word on what she might try but hadn't yet. She hadn't actually done anything. Harry Potter had only really known her a few months and here he was reaching out to people to help her find her father, whoever he was.
He fell back onto the grass beside her, and they lay together, saying nothing, staring up at the clouds. He was probably happy to be alive after facing a dragon. She was elated that someone else understood how much it meant just to know where she came from. Who she came from. Even in not speaking, their presence beside each other meant everything, but for different reasons. She didn't want him to move, but breakfast would be soon. She did not roll onto her side, but she wanted to.
Breakfast was fast approaching, and she knew he would put his album away, and she would put hers away, and they would return to their respective friend groups. She wanted to put it off, but she didn't know how.
Instead she allowed them to slip back into their separate lives.
There was no word into December, and she didn't press or pester. She knew he was very busy with the Second Task, and she learned there was something else that was pulling his attention: the Yule Ball.
"What is that?" Sera asked, puzzled, as Ginny giggled about it.
What it was, apparently, was a traditional component of the Triwizard Tournament: a Christmas dance for all involved.
"Fourth year and up, but luckily the younger students can go if older students ask them."
"Why is that lucky?" Sera said, watching the girls go around in giggling groups, the boys trying to approach them, or just watching them pass. It seemed like a terrible mess to her.
"Well, if we get asked, we can go!" Ginny said happily.
"Excuse me," a Beauxbatons boy said, with a surprisingly light accent to his English. He bowed lightly to them. "I was wondering whether you might accompany me to the Ball?"
It took Sera a moment to realize he was looking at her, not Ginny. Her pulse jumped, but not from excitement. She wanted to throw up all over the boy's hideously expensive shoes. Surely, he was here because he was old enough to be considered for the tournament, which mean the was at least seventeen, which meant he was at least four years older than her. That realization increased her level of panic.
"Erm, your English is very good," she said nervously. "I'm sure whoever you ask will understand you just fine."
Ginny's eyes went wide as Sera had ever seen them, and the Beauxbatons boy laughed, not sure what else to do, probably. He repeated the question with slightly different words and Sera realized her hands were trembling slightly.
"No, sorry," she said, swallowing down the nausea. "No. I…. No."
He was still watching her, puzzled, as she tugged Ginny away, far away from the scene.
He wasn't the last to ask, unfortunately. Three other foreign boys and two of Ernie's friends asked, and she nervously declined each one. George Weasley asked her, and when Zacharias Smith asked, it was at breakfast. She spat her pumpkin juice on him in shock, and felt her skin go red as people nearby laughed.
"Sorry," Sera spluttered as Ginny tried not to giggle. "No. Sorry. I mean, sorry for your face. And no, I won't…." She stood abruptly and flung her bag over her shoulder, desperate for people to stop staring at her. She caught Harry's eye, up the table, and he was clearly amused.
Despite the terror and embarrassment, she couldn't help but smile back. She left the Great Hall quickly, and she wasn't terribly surprised when Harry followed her out, up the marble staircase.
"Class isn't for ages," he said, and Sera shrugged. He gestured for her to follow him, and she did, and she was relieved when they sat in a little alcove she didn't know existed, behind a tapestry on the third floor. She tucked her knees under her chin, and he sat in a similar pose beside her. They were silent for a long moment.
"Is it as scary from your end?" she whispered, half-expecting him to say nothing back.
"The ball stuff?" She hummed. "Bloody terrifying. I have to have a date because I'm a champion."
"Have you got one yet?"
"No," he said with a shaky laugh. "No, I can't get one alone to ask."
"Who are you going to ask?"
"I was hoping Cho Chang."
Sera leaned her head back against the cool stone wall and considered. Cho Chang, Ravenclaw. She had very shiny hair, seemed a little proud, and played Quidditch very well. Sera hadn't ever thought she liked the girl much, but she could see Harry's interest. She was an attractive girl who had in common with him his favorite thing to do: flying, playing Quidditch. Maybe she was also nice.
"I don't know her well enough to give you the odds on that," Sera said with a nervous laugh. "But I hope you get what you want."
"What about you?" he asked, weakly attempting to deflect attention from himself. "Are you going to say yes to someone eventually? Ginny said you've turned away about a dozen."
"More like half a dozen," she murmured into her knees. "And no. I wish they'd stop asking. Any ideas?"
"Move in packs," he teased. "Seriously, it's what scares off most of the blokes. You're alone or only with Ginny far too often."
"I don't have a pack," she sighed, leaning her head back again. "So that isn't going to work."
"You could join mine."
"And abandon Ginny?" she said, although her fingers tingled and she didn't know why. "Thanks, but no. The madness will subside when the ball is over and everything will be fine. I can just lay low until then. I'm pretty good at that."
She had the sense he wanted to ask something, but he didn't. Instead, they sat in companionable silence for a long beat. Finally, he said, "I'll write that letter soon, Sera. I'll let you know what kind of response I get."
"From this friend or from Cho Chang?" Sera teased, her voice a bit breathless.
"Both," he said with a laugh. "If I even get up the nerve to ask Cho."
"You will," she said, smiling and standing. She held up the tapestry to let him out. "You've faced a dragon and a basilisk and whatever else we haven't talked about. I'm pretty sure you can say a few words to a girl."
"I'm not sure," he said, paling slightly.
She shrugged. "You talk to me all the time, and you haven't broken out in hives."
"You're different," he said with a low laugh. "You're…gentle. If you didn't like me, you'd say so, but you'd be nice about it."
"You think she'd say no because she doesn't like you?"
"Why else?"
Sera could think of many reasons. Other commitments. Dislike of balls. A desire to go home for Christmas. Not wanting people to look at her.
"She might say yes, even if she doesn't like you," Sera said with a shrug. Harry tilted his head as a question. "You're a champion. You've just fought a dragon. A girl who doesn't like you might still want to be on your arm for a night. Price of success."
Harry hummed and said, "How would I know the difference?"
She laughed, shrugged, and walked toward their classes together and said, "I guess if she doesn't really want to go but agrees to go with you anyway, that's how you know she likes you. But I doubt she'd tell you, anyway. There's another way to find out if she likes you."
"Hmm?"
"Ask her."
Harry's lips twitched and he almost said something, but then he swallowed the words and shrugged.
A/N: So, Harry survives the first task, some photo surfing gives them a possible lead on her father, and Sera is violently afraid of the Yule Ball.
Review Prompt: If Sera goes to the Ball, who do you think she'll go with and how do you think they'll ask?
Active Stories:
Craving Comfort (Active)
Uncontrollable Variable (Regular—Weekly)
Cheers!
C
