Chapter Seven: Christmas Contention
November came and went without any remarkable happenings and quite suddenly, Christmas was upon them, bringing with it the anticipation of the TriWizard Tournament's Yule Ball. For the first time since Rachel had been at school, hardly anyone went home – herself included. She had been asked to the Yule Ball by one of the Beauxbatons boys, a dark-haired, dreamy-eyed specimen named Pierre. He'd taken to waiting for her outside of classes and whisking her off to meals without even so much as acknowledging Cedric's presence next to her when they exited a classroom. A very deep, dark part of her was gratified to see the flash of resentment that showed in Cedric's eyes as Pierre led her away.
Just minutes before she was supposed to meet her French escort in the Great Hall, she stopped in front of a mirror to do a last minute appraisal of her appearance. Her normally straight brown hair was curled in ringlets and piled atop her head – courtesy of the handiwork of a particularly talented fifth year girl who specialized in cosmetic charms. She checked to make sure it was still in place and smoothed her emerald green halter-gown before hurrying down to meet Pierre.
His eyes widened appreciatively as she descended the stairs and she silently blessed whoever was responsible for creating the No-Smudge-No-Smear Glam Makeup. She also silently applauded that fifth year girl for teaching her how to use it.
Pierre extended his arm for her to take and led her into the Great Hall, which had been transformed into a crystal ballroom. The sight took Rachel's breath away. Across the room, she caught a glimpse of Cedric – looking dashing in his crisp dress robes – and Cho, who looked radiant in a silver kimono-style dress. Pierre did not allow her attention to remain on them for long, however, and drew her eyes back to him as he grasped her waist and led her out onto the dance floor. With all the grace of a cat, he spun her out and back in, pressing her against him. She dipped and twirled and spun in his arms, feeling light and graceful for the first time in years. The song ended as Pierre pulled her in and stared down at her, breathing a little faster than normal, his mouth was inches from hers and, unconsciously, she felt hers open in response as he moved closer. His lips had just barely touched hers when she felt a tap on her shoulder. They separated to see Cedric and Cho standing there. Cedric's eyes were an emotionless steel-gray and he regarded Pierre with distaste before bestowing his trademark smile on Rachel. "What happened to you?" he demanded with a wink and a pointed glance at her dress.
"I decided to try something new," she replied cheerfully, "You like it?"
He scanned her floor-length, silver-trimmed gown, bare shoulders, shadowed eyes, and elegant hair-do with an appreciative eye. "You'll do," he said at last.
For some reason, she felt like laughing and she did. "You look halfway decent yourself – did you steal those dress robes off some poor, underprivileged third-year?"
Making a face at her, he began moving away as the next song started. "I'll reply when I can think of something crushing to say."
An hour later, he did return, but not to offer a comeback. Instead, he asked her to dance, since Cho was currently dancing with her Quidditch captain, Roger Davies. He led her out on the floor and they began to sway gently in time to the music. "So, who's your date?" he asked, gesturing toward where Pierre sat watching them and looking a little put out.
"His name's Pierre; he's from Beauxbatons."
"Oh, I see," Cedric said, suddenly looking a little annoyed. "One of those boys. I noticed."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Rachel demanded harshly, irritated for reasons she couldn't describe. "Am I not allowed to have a little fun with a good-looking guy? May I remind you that there doesn't seem to be any problem with you snogging Cho all the time!"
"That's not what I –" Cedric began.
"I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself, Mr. Diggory," she interrupted curtly.
"Fine," he retorted, "I will. And don't come crying to me when he breaks your heart, because he will."
Rachel, who was already well aware of the fact that Pierre was a love-em-and-leave-em kind of guy, only scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. You're the last person I'd go to with any problem. You're so wrapped up in yourself that you can't see anyone else even if you wanted to!"
He blinked, then his eyes hardened. "Is that what you think?"
She was trembling now, her emotions threatening to spill over and out of control, but she squared her shoulders. "Yeah, that's what I think."
Suddenly, Cedric stepped back, even though the song was barely halfway over. "Fine. You can finish this dance by yourself."
"Fine!" she called after his retreating back, fighting back the angry tears that burned against the edges of her vision. She didn't understand why she kept picking fights with him. All she knew was that it made her ache to see him so happy and she wanted make him hurt as much as she did. Why did she hurt so much? It was a question that she couldn't – and wouldn't – answer.
Still fighting back tears, she gathered up the folds of her gown and hurried off the dance floor, brushing Pierre off as he stood to approach her. As quickly as she could without running, she worked her way through the milling students and crossed the entrance hall toward the Hufflepuff common room – barely registering that some kind of shouting match was taking place on the stairs.
When she reached her own dormitory, she collapsed on her bed and allowed the tears to come, soaking her pillow and the strands of hair that had come undone. It felt good to cry, and eventually, she cried herself to sleep.
Another very intense, very emotional scene. I hope it's the last one... but of course, that depends on Rachel and not on me. I'm just writing her. So yeah. Please review, of course. I love concrit, so feel free to critique me as much as you want. Oh, and flamers make me laugh, so you won't accomplish anything by trying to flame me. Assuming of course that you wanted to...