We'll All Fall After the Yule Ball

Chapter Ten

In the week after the big occasion, Harry felt the growing distance between himself and his best friends. He took advantage of the extra hours of privacy to prepare for the next task of the Triwizard Tournament (though he had yet to solve the riddle of the golden egg) and, as a happy result, he ended up congregating with the few upperclassmen he knew. He quite determinedly turned a blind eye to the fact he was hanging out with new people because his true friends wouldn't talk to him. Of course, it was impossible to forget the night he had lost control and destroyed half the Room of Requirement in his angst, or yesterday, when he outright begged Hermione to talk to him and had received a solid kick to the shin as a painful reminder she had not forgiven him for the night of the Yule Ball.

Now, an hour before Gryffindor's first class of the semester, he eyed himself in the only free mirror in Gryffindor tower, trying to ignore the fact that most of his fourth year roommates were ignoring him. His quite swollen shin throbbed painfully, spurred on by his thoughts of his female best friend. Seamus and Dean had taken Ron's side and the three could usually be found discussing girls, sports, and Harry and Hermione in quiet tones normally reserved for Snape's study hall sessions.

In fact, nearly everyone in the school had taken to gossipping about Harry in the days following the Yule Ball fiasco. Now that school was back in session, Ron's free time would be occupied by nightly detentions (not that he was spending time with Harry anyway) and Harry was lucky if he could even catch Hermione's glance from afar. The smoldering look in her eyes had dissuaded Harry from even bothering her, so he didn't often venture into the common room these days.

He didn't know whether to be hurt that his friend had completely decided to disregard his advances or frustrated that he couldn't even talk to her anymore. Harry figured Hermione would come around and allow him to make amends for his behavior, but it was taking much longer than he had anticipated. He would have gladly taken everything back if only to get her to scold him for... something! He had been an angel ever since then, partly in an effort to get Hermione to recognize his changed ways, and partly because he really wasn't up to any rule-breaking antics without his friends.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said, lethargically crossing the bathroom. He was the latest riser of the five boys, and the long night with McGonagall was showing on his face. Harry stifled a snicker at the bits of Elderrag's All-Purpose Eliminator that was plastered to Ron's matted red hair. The Deputy Headmistress had been particularly strict on him, starting his first detention before the semester even began. Ron made his way over to Harry, and then he seemed to realize who it was he had been talking to. His mouth automatically formed a frown, and Harry said nothing as his friend gave him the cold shoulder once more, passing him soundlessly. The awkward moment passed when Dean and Seamus welcomed Ron's appearance, and Ron crawled into the showers while striking up a conversation about Quidditch. Sighing, Harry shuffled out of the bathroom, straightening his tie with his fingers as he went.

"He'll come around," Neville said encouragingly, standing just inside the bathroom.

"He always does," Harry said, smiling slightly. He didn't think Ron would hold it against him forever, but he knew his friend had a sore spot when it came to Hermione, and that it was going to be a while before he was offered any chance at reconciliation. "Thanks, Nev. You wanna walk down to breakfast?"

"Nah," he said, a shy grin on his face. "I told Ginny I'd wait for her to get up and we'd go together." Harry briefly paused, doing a virtual double take at the news that Ron's little sister and Neville Longbottom were still an item. He had the feeling that Ron was unaware of his sister's relationship, and a darker part of him realized that Ginny's romantic endeavors would play into his favor. With Ron's anger sure to be divided between Hermione and Neville, as well as his sister, perhaps Ron would ease up on Harry a bit earlier; after all, Harry paused, noticing that Neville had just mumbled something under his breath, his cheeks turning a bit pink in the process.

"What's that, Nev?" He eyed his suddenly wary friend with bemusement. Speak up."

"I said: Are you okay with me dating her?"

Harry frowned, a crease forming between his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't I be?" He laughed, slapping Neville on the back good-naturedly. "Besides, Ron's the one you'll have to worry about." Neville shrugged, a soft smile still gracing his boyish features. "Fred and George too." His friend started to look a bit sick, as if he had just eaten a bad Every-Flavor Bean. "Not to mention Ginny's three other older brothers!" Smirking, Harry walked away from Neville. Adding one last thing as he walked down the stairs, Harry yelled, "But... I'm sure Ron will come around!"

As he reached the last step, he heard Ron's distant voice say, "Come around to what?"

Harry's laughter died down once he reached the common room; his feet led him in a long arc around the couch that Hermione was sitting on, and after a quick glance showed that she was steadfastly ignoring him, he sighed and walked out of the portrait hole. He completely missed the contemplative look that Hermione focused on the back of his head.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter." Harry was surprised when he nearly ran into his Head of House just outside of the portrait hole, but he gave her a big smile nonetheless.

"Good morning, Professor," he greeted. "What are you doing here so early?"

She gave him a contemplative look of her own. "I've come to escort Mr. Weasley to a short but hopefully enlightening meeting with his parents before the days classes begin." Harry nearly choked at the slight smirk that pulled at the edge of his Professor's mouth. "If I was you, I would steer clear of Mr. Weasley for the rest of the day. If you'll excuse me..."

Harry tried not to be glad that Ron was in a world of trouble, but he couldn't resist a brief laugh at his friends expense; of course, his laugh fell flat when he realized that he had no one to share it with. Feeling rather worn out, he watched his feet slide over stone as he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. He hoped he could go ahead and eat before his friends showed up and the inevitable knot formed in his stomach.

However, by the time he reached the hall, he realized it would be impossible not to feel nauseated. Sitting in the spot that he normally occupied during breakfast was a face that was becoming all-too-familiar, as it was the brightest, most attractive one in the school at present.

"Good morning, Harry," Fleur said, standing to greet him. Harry's hair was quite literally standing on end, but he did his best to smile politely and return her greeting. He winced as his reply came out two octaves too high, but Fleur didn't make a comment. "I've been looking for you since the Ball, but it's as if you've been invisible this week!"

Harry snickered to match her musical laugh; he had passed her more than once under his Invisibility Cloak as he tried to avoid other, far more annoying students. He had never considered that Fleur might have been looking for him. "Have you been avoiding me?" she questioned, her eyelashes fluttering slightly.

Shaking his head, he took a seat. Noticing that she was still standing beside him with a confused look clouding her otherwise beautiful features, he offered her the seat she had just been occupying. "I won't bite," he said, smiling.

Her nose wrinkled. "What about that friend of yours?" At Harry's blank look, she added, "the one who screamed at me?" Her tone made it obvious she did not appreciate Ron's frantic invitation. "Will he bite?"

"You mean Ron," he said, trying not to laugh. "Maybe if your hand's on the last kipper," he joked, "but he hasn't been talking to me the last few days, so I doubt he sits close enough to join in. You rather embarrassed him the other day," Harry said, laughing, "so I'd imagine he's too frightened to say anything. Besides," he grinned, a bit of slyness returning to his voice now that he wasn't trembling at her presence, "I told you last time that ours was the most interesting conversation I've ever had, so any of my friends can wait."

Fleur considered him as he went about adding food to his empty plate. "Well, I'm not one for, how do you say - beating around the bush? I was wondering if your evening is free tomorrow." Harry's eyes bulged, though he immediately cast them sideways to avoid showing Fleur any fear. He sensed no nervousness from her, and he didn't know if that was better or worse - while he had plenty of experience with girls who were in awe of him because of his past, it was rare that a female would display no outward signs of anxiety in his presence. He wasn't sure if he entirely enjoyed the experience.

Harry had a feeling he would squeak if he rushed to answer her, so he took a long sip of his pumpkin juice before replying. "Sure," he said, swallowing shakily. "What did you have in mind?"

She smiled demurely. Harry felt Fleur must have already known he would consent to another night with her, same as any boy his age. He couldn't exactly fault her for that, as even though he knew she had a high opinion of herself, it was obviously for good reason, and she didn't seem to have an inflated ego once he got to know her a bit. With her long, platinum hair and distinctly French looks, she was the envy of every female at Hogwarts. That's why, once she started talking, he couldn't quite believe what she was saying. "I thought we could have a second date of sorts - this time in the daylight. My parents are coming to England to witness the next task in a few weeks, but my father is going to be here tomorrow to sign a contract for it. If you don't mind, I'd like you to join us for dinner!"

Fleur spoke as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a fourteen year old boy to accompany France's most supernatural beauty to dinner with her father in attendance. Harry instinctively knew that he should not hesitate, but his body rebelled at first, drawing a concerned glance from Fleur. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no!" Harry rushed to assure her. "Nothing's wrong! It's just-"

For the first time since the night the Goblet of Fire had been extinguished, Fleur frowned at Harry. "If you do not want to go, Harry, say so. I did not mean to push you-"

"Fleur," he said, grabbing the girl's attention by holding both of her hands in his own. "I promise you I'm honored you asked, and I would love to meet your father. If he's half as friendly as you are, I'm sure we'll get along just fine." The frown fell away to reveal a pleased expression, which Harry found accented her beauty much better. "I was just surprised that you asked, is all. No one's ever invited me to meet their parents... well, except for Ron, but I'm not sure that counts," he said, chuckling slightly.

She smiled, but otherwise ignored the comment about Ron. It was obvious that she wasn't a fan of the redhead, and Harry had to admit he wasn't feeling particularly friendly toward his bestie either. "Can I ask you a question, Fleur?"

"Of course," she said. The girl crinkled her nose at the predominantly English cuisine in front of her, but chose a few rashers of bacon and some buttered toast, perhaps to complement her light figure. Harry couldn't stop himself from momentarily watching her seductively crunch into the bacon, but he was able to control his desire long enough to ask his question.

"Your father... ah, how much does he know about me exactly?"

"What do you mean? Most of the world knows you already, Harry. I'm certain my father is no different."

"Well," he said, trying not to blush. "I don't know if you've noticed, but the English press aren't my biggest supporters at the moment." She nodded, and he continued, a calculating gleam in his eyes. "If your father buys into anything they say, I don't think he'll want me anywhere near his daughter."

For the second time in as many minutes, Fleur frowned. "I thought you were part of the house of courage, Harry." The boy in question recoiled as if struck, but at least had the wherewithal to consider her statement. "If you're too afraid to meet my father, then I don't think I want you anywhere near me either." Fleur turned her nose up at the end of her brief tirade, but Harry could sense that she wasn't really angry.

"You're right," he said, running a hand through his raven hair with a sigh. "I'm sorry. Let me start over. Okay?" A hint of a smile played at the edge of her pink lips, so he took that as a good sign to continue. "Fleur, I would love to have dinner with you and your father tomorrow evening. Where do I go, what time am I supposed to be there, and... ah, how should I dress?"

"Meet me in the Entrance Hall at seven. Your Hogwarts robes should be fine for the occasion; it's not like you're meeting the French president..." she chuckled, and Harry followed suit. "Father is just his secretary after all - he's much less formal," she informed him. Harry's laughter died, replaced by a strangled sound that Fleur didn't hear or chose to ignore. "I have to get made up before class, so I'll see you later." Distantly, he registered that Fleur was leaving, but Harry was still blankly staring ahead, so she leaned down and gave him a peck on the cheek that caught his attention quite nicely. "Bye, Harry," she said, walking away. His green eyes followed her as she left the Great Hall, each hip swaying ever so gently. Once she was gone, he took a glance around the room to see that more than a few boys had been watching Fleur and were now watching him with undisguised envy.

"I guess if all the girls envy her, all of the boys envy me," he said under his breath, feeling a bit of pressure and trying not to look up and start casting curses. He didn't know whether Fleur could be considered his girlfriend yet, but he certainly didn't appreciate others staring at the girl he was going on a date with tomorrow.

Those thoughts were erased when he saw Hermione was now sitting at the other end of the table. She looked up, and he tried very hard not to look away. However, she was quick to turn her head toward her unfinished breakfast, which curiously remained untouched as the seconds passed. Apparently, she had made her way into the room some time ago, and he had a sinking feeling that Hermione had seen and heard Harry and Fleur's entire conversation, as well as the kiss on the cheek at the end. In the end, he couldn't decide whether he should feel triumphant that Fleur wanted a second date or guilty that he had been even more of a jerk to his best friend.

"Why the long face?" Ginny said, flopping onto the seat next to him. Neville was with her, looking suspiciously pleased; Harry wondered why Neville looked like he'd just inherited Greenhouse #4. Rather than answer her, Harry smirked at the younger girl.

"Why is he smiling so big?"

Neville's smile fell, replaced by an embarrassed expression. "I'd rather not comment..." he said, leaving no doubt what he and Ginny had just been up to. Ginny chose to lightly change the subject.

"So... are you ready for classes to start?"

Harry shrugged, not really feeling like talking. "Better working my tail off at Hogwarts than for the Dursleys, I guess. How about you guys?"

"I can't wait for the first Charms class!" Ginny enthused, glancing briefly at Neville. "That's what I've got first, and Flitwick doesn't usually spend that much time on reviewing, so hopefully we'll be doing something important-"

Harry became aware of someone behind him, and instantly turned to face Draco, who had crossed the distance between tables and looked ready to insult and possibly assault him. The Boy-Who-Lived couldn't resist a wolfish grin at Malfoy's expense, recalling the state he had left him in after the Yule Ball.

"Now, now, Ginevra," he started, his snide voice carrying across the hall. He stopped about a foot from Harry, sneering at each of them in turn. "We all know you could never actually do something important." His eyes rested on Neville a moment longer, as he prepared to rip the normally quiet boy a new one. "After all, the only person to ask you to the Ball is a Squib!"

"Pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?" Harry had opened his mouth to defend his friends, but Neville beat him to the punch. "As if I care what you think anyway. Ginny's opinion is the only one that matters." He turned back around, ignoring the Slytherin ponce in favor of resuming his breakfast. Ginny glanced at her boyfriend with a smile, apparently enjoying the new Neville.

"Oh, isn't that sweet?" Pansy Parkinson said, stepping in to defend Draco in her snobbish way. "Longbottom's finally getting some courage-"

"Yet, you're still not cunning enough to realize your own faults," Ginny simpered, waving one hand as if to clear her nose of a putrid odor. "Please take that awful perfume you're wearing and go sit down." She nodded at Draco, whose annoyance was prevalent, as it was burning up his face. "Take the dickless twit with you."

Harry couldn't help but laugh, a sentiment which was returned by most of the Gryffindor table. Breakfast was close to being over now, and nearly everyone in Hogwarts had heard Ginny's last comment. Unfortunately, that also meant that Snape's quick strides across the Great Hall led him to the Gryffindor table. "I'm sorry, Ms. Weasley," he hissed, standing far too close to Harry for his comfort. "I didn't quite catch that last remark." It was exceedingly obvious to Harry that Snape had heard every word.

Ginny's face showed the faintest hint of a smile. "It doesn't bear repeating, sir. I was just directing Mal... I mean, Draco, and Pansy, to take a seat at their own table. There's not much time left for us to eat breakfast, sir."

Harry outwardly kept his cool, but he really wanted to laugh his arse off; he had never figured Ginny to be the type to weasel out of trouble, but he supposed she had picked up a few things from Fred and George - namely, never being held accountable for her own actions. "Ms. Weasley," he began, before trailing off suddenly. He glanced sideways at the Headmaster, who was watching the brewing argument with a half-smile on his face. "Please refrain from cursing at your fellow students. 5 points from Gryffindor." She opened her mouth to complain, her ears already flaming nearly as red as her hair, but Snape resumed speaking before she could. "Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Parkinson, 5 points each from Slytherin."

"WHAT?" Harry and Draco said, though the voice of the former was easily drowned out by the latter. The blonde boy continued speaking, his teeth clenched in rage. "We didn't even do anything!"

"Return to your seats at once, or it will be double the points for both of you!" Snape said, his booming voice quelling whatever argument Draco was concocting before it even began. As they left the scene, angrily stomping back to the Slytherin table, Harry could have sworn he heard the Professor say under his breath, "Now maybe that old wind bag will ease up..."

Harry blinked, realizing that Snape had been talking about Dumbledore, but he said nothing to his friends; he wasn't sure he wanted to know why Snape had suddenly become impartial toward his Slytherins. Nevertheless, he did at least appreciate the effort. Ginny, for her part, couldn't believe Draco had been made an example of.

"Neville," she started, and the boy faced her with a timid smile. "Did Snape just-"

"Yes," he said, not really believing it himself. "I think he did."

"Oh my God," she muttered, strangely depressed by the news. "Hell's freezing over..."

Harry shook his head, rising from the table. "I'm off," he announced, swiftly gathering his belongings and taking one last bite of his meal. "See you in class, Nev," he said, slapping him on the back and smiling at his friend's new redheaded beau. Ginny growled something unintelligible, but she didn't raise her head from where it rested on Neville's shoulder.

Harry smiled, for once thankful he was going to class early. Once Ron made it to breakfast and saw Neville and Ginny, they would doubtlessly be involved in an inevitable argument and someone was bound to lose their house more points. Fortunately, the Gryffindors were scheduled to have McGonagall first, which was a damn sight better than Potions first, and though he didn't think they would do much besides rehash the last semester's key points, at least he could get a seat as far away from Ron as possible. He was mentally preparing himself for a day of boredom when he heard a poisonous female voice from behind him. He groaned aloud and stopped walking, leaning against the closest wall and facing Pansy and Draco, who had followed him out of the Great Hall.

"Again?" he muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. "So soon!"

"Potter!" Malfoy seethed, his footsteps abnormally loud in the empty corridor. "If you think for one minute," he spat, anger painted bright red across his sharp face, "I'm going to let you get away with what you did to me, I-"

Harry screwed up his face in confusion, though he obviously knew what Draco was referring to. "What did I do to you? I saw you leave our party - one you weren't invited to, by the way - drunk waddling upstairs toward the trophy room, but you were too belligerent to hear us begging you not to do anything foolish. Not that you've ever listened to us before..."

"That's tripe and you know it!" Draco screeched. Belatedly, he lowered his voice, looking around warily. They weren't exactly alone in the halls, though Harry doubted anyone else could hear their whispered conversation. "I certainly didn't wreck the trophy room, and I know you are the one who hit Milly with that hex!" While Malfoy was one hundred percent accurate, Harry knew that Draco would never be able to prove his accusations, as he'd implicate himself in the process. A mischievous smile appeared, though Harry was quick to hide it.

"Without your little friends to help you," Malfoy added, leaning toward Harry, whose hand was still on his wand, "who is going to come to your defense? I'd watch my back if I were you." Harry laughed his threat off easily enough, and Malfoy stepped away, his fists clenched in rage.

"Whatever you say, Malfoy. I had a fun time after the Yule Ball but I was back in bed by curfew. Take it up with Dumbledore or McGonagall if you want to get yourself in trouble."

Realizing that he'd be putting one foot in his own grave by blaming Harry did nothing to alleviate the fury Draco was feeling. "This is not the end of this! You better watch your back!"

Harry shook his head, trying not to laugh at the pitiful Slytherin. "You just said that." He had expected Malfoy to look for revenge on him without any evidence - in fact, if their roles were reversed, Harry would have most likely blamed Draco for the situation. He kept an eye on Draco as he walked away, his wand in his hand just in case, but neither of the angry Slytherins made any attempt to attack him.

Students were passing him now, and he recognized a few girls from the year ahead of him before another student slammed into him, knocking him over. Crying in outrage, she flailed her arms as she fell, crashing down on top of Harry and knocking the wind out of him. "Oof," she muttered, scrambling off of the ground. She reached down to help him up out of concern, before she realized who it was; Harry blanched as he looked into the eyes of Katie Bell. "Don't block the hall, dummy!"

"Don't run in the hallways then!" he said, his attitude flaring dangerously. "I was just standing here!"

"Whatever! I don't have time for this," she said, grabbing her things, which had fallen out of her bag and were strung about the corridor. People slid past her, uncaringly stepping over her things, and Harry reached down to help her. She tried to shove him away from her, and ended up awkwardly pushing his arm down and into the path of rather pushy girl from Hufflepuff, who retaliated by kicking Katie's text book further down the hall. "Damnit! What was that for!"

"Don't block the hall!"

Katie growled, looking ready to curse the girl, and Harry just barely refrained from laughing, taking pity on his one time friend. "Look, Katie-"

"Just save it for someone who cares, Potter," she said, waving a hand flippantly and using her wand to summon her scattered items. With a few deft flicks that drew Harry's attention, everything was zipped up tight in her bag.

"Nice magic," he muttered off-handedly. Katie rose to her feet, still glaring at Harry, who decided this was his best opportunity to apologize. "Wait! I know you don't care," he tried again, smoothing down his robes, which were slightly dusty after his fall. "I don't expect you to even forgive me, but... I want to say I'm sorry anyways." Katie narrowed her eyes. "You deserve one, at least." He ran a hand through his hair, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. "I shouldn't have lead you on the other night. I had plenty of opportunities to tell you I wasn't interested in being anything more than friends, but I was too busy enjoying myself to care, and-"

"Harry," Katie said, stopping him with finger to his lips. "You don't have to say your sorry. Don't get me wrong - I appreciate it, 'cause you were a dick the other night - but I realized you're just not my type after all." She shrugged. "You're a handsome guy, but you get into way too much trouble for me." Harry privately thought that she could get into plenty of trouble on her own, but she was forgiving him, so he decided not to say anything. "Plus, I kind of kissed Ron the other night, so I don't feel right judging you for doing the same thing."

Harry smiled weakly. "I promise you I'd never kiss Ron," he joked, "but I understand what you're saying. You think we can be friends?"

She punched him in the chest, almost knocking the wind out of him again. "Eh," she said, shrugging, a cute smile on her face. "I'll think about it." Harry snickered, and Katie smiled a little bigger. "I'll be late if I don't hurry," she trailed off. "Not that Binns would notice, but still."

"Yeah, me too. McGonagall will have my hide."

"Oh, she already has mine," she laughed, "and Ron's for that matter. See ya later."

Harry didn't quite understand what she meant by that, but he assumed they must have been in trouble as a result of Hermione's actions - stunning them in the hallway. Katie's revelation that Ron and her had locked lips came as a surprise, but Harry felt no pain, and was actually pleased by the notion. A dark part of him wanted to encourage Ron and Katie's relationship, as that would make Hermione available, but he was guilty over his thoughts, and quashed them with little difficulty.

Besides, he had a date with Fleur the next evening. What else was there to worry about?

Ron didn't say much as his Head of House briskly led him toward her office. He decided he wouldn't fret too much over missing the majority of breakfast; after all, his stomach was turning itself in knots the closer he got to McGonagall's office, and he wasn't sure he could hold anything down at this point. He imagined this was the way he'd feel before his first Quidditch match, without the exhilarating feeling of flying to take his breath away. McGonagall refused to look at him, as she was still very angry that he had escaped from her on the night of Yule Ball. He shook himself roughly, trying desperately to summon some courage; his nerves were getting on his nerves.

It wasn't long before he was ushered inside McGonagall's office. He glanced at the much older woman to see her mouth set rigidly, and he quickly looked away, his eyes immediately finding his feet. Unfortunately, that meant that he missed his parents sitting in front of McGonagall's desk when he entered, and his mother's shrill voice nearly caused him a heart attack as a result.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!" she shrieked. Within seconds she had crossed the office and clamped her sharp fingernails down on his right ear, which produced a rather more muted shriek from her son. "I have never been so disappointed in you in my entire life! Not only did you disobey your Head of House, you put yourself in unnecessary danger and you did it to impress... some floozy-"

"Now, now, Molly," Arthur said, placing a calming hand on Molly's back. When she turned her angry eyes to him, he instinctively slapped Ron on the back of his vividly red head. Somehow, Ron knew that his father wasn't that angry with him, merely annoyed that he had been pulled out of work to attend a parents-professor meeting in the first place. "We don't even know the girl, so let's not assume-"

"Arthur," she said through her teeth. "If she's foolish enough to get caught kissing our fool of a boy, she's a full-fledged floozy! At least Ginny went to the ball with a nice boy-"

Ron let his parents debate his scandalous date amongst each other, knowing it was better for his mother to direct her anger at his father, who was far less likely to blow up in the middle of McGonagall's office. The young Gryffindor held his temper in check as best he could as his mother lauded his date with scorn and Neville with praise. "Arthur and Molly Weasley!" The Transfiguration mistress barked, silencing the two adults almost effortlessly. "Thank you. I called you here for a reason," she trailed off, looking expectantly at Ron's parents.

"Right," Arthur said, facing Ron, who had remained quiet for some time. "What do you have to say for yourself, son?"

Ron cut his eyes at McGonagall, who looked all-too-pleased to see her student castigated by his Mum. This was far worse than any detention she could have given him - even scrubbing cauldrons with Snape. He knew he had to give an accurate account of the night's events, but the only excuse he could think of for his behavior - I just really wanted to celebrate the only ball we'll ever have! - would only land him in even more trouble. Inwardly he cursed Katie, who had inadvertently led to him being caught, and hadn't been visited by her parents at school! He also cursed himself, for getting caught to begin with.

"Well? Are you going to say anything?" Molly had never been a patient person, and the swift tapping of her right foot on the hard floor filled the office. "Or is your tongue still stuck in that pitiful girl's mouth-"

"You know what?" Ron asked, stepping forward defiantly. He'd had enough of his Mum's disdainful attitude toward someone she didn't even know. "Her name is Katie, not pitiful girl, and she is definitely not some floozy. You treat her like she's a... scarlett woman just because she had the gaul to kiss me!" Molly looked taken aback, but Ron thought he saw a glimmer of something in his father's eyes, and he felt encouraged to continue. "I was wrong. I should have stayed in my dorm, but I knew what trouble I was going to get into, and guess what? I did it anyway! Not to disrespect Professor McGonagall," he said, looking at the woman, who seemed affronted but not quite angry at his behavior, "but I wasn't about to give away one of the... most important nights of my life just to SIT THERE!"

There was silence in McGonagall's office. Ron became imminently aware of the curious stare of his father, the calculating, slightly mischeivous glance of McGonagall, and lastly, the flabbergasted expression pasted on his mother's face. He thought about what he had just said. "Who the bloody hell is Katie?!" Molly said, her anger evident in her voice. McGonagall didn't even scold her for language.

Ron bit his lip. It wasn't until it started to bleed slightly that he realized he should have done that to begin with.

Harry was sitting at his desk when Hermione walked into the Transfiguration classroom. He locked eyes on her, but as she moved to the front of the class and sat down, his attention was drawn to the girl taking a seat behind her. The dark-skinned girl refused to do anything but scowl at him these days, and though he felt he'd earned quite a few angry glares for his bad deeds, accomplishing his school-related goals was made infinitely harder with the heat of her stare on his back. More than once he had heard her furiously whispered conversations with Lavender, and though it was normal for them to gossip about other students, he had not felt their harsh words as keenly as he had been the last few days. He knew he ought to apologize to Parvati, but her bullying behavior meant a sufficient explanation of his actions would not be forthcoming. He always refused to bow down to bad guys, after all. Fortunately, she would have to grow eyes in the back of her head to see him from the front of the class, and he breathed a sigh of relief he had not been paired with her for the day.

Quite the contrary, he ended up with a lovely Hufflepuff girl that he had rarely had any interactions with in his time at Hogwarts. Susan Bones, he remembered, was the neice of the current Head of the DMLE, which apparently entitled her to being the Hogwarts equivalent of a hall monitor. If Hermione was as goody-two shoes, then Susan obviously had three feet. "How are you today, Susan?" he asked, just as McGonagall set them to task turning sterling silver spoons into mice. Harry had long ago progressed past this point, but as expected, the class was spending the first week back reviewing things from the previous semester.

"Good," she murmured distractedly. She was concentrating on her Transfiguration, and Harry smiled when, after taking a few moments to compose herself, she pulled off the magic, though it wasn't quite perfect. A field mouse nibbled eagerly on its tail, which was distinctly metallic. "Have mercy," she muttered, before she caught Harry looking at her. Slightly pink in the cheeks, she frowned and said, "Well, go on then. Let's see how you do."

Harry was feeling playful, so he faced her with a roguish smile. He decided to go for giggles instead of potentially putting the girl down by out-doing her too easily. Since she was watching, he acted like he was concentrating really hard, waiting more than a minute before she squealed, "Come on!" Smirking, he waved his wand, and purposely created the mouse with an oval head, though it still had hair and the corresponding facial features. Harry glanced at the girl to see that she was breaking out in a smile despite her normal 'holier than thou' attitude, so he directed his mouse to run over to Susan's. It playfully wrestled her mouse to the ground and began hugging it around the waist.

"What is he doing?" she started, before laughing outright. "Are they spooning each other?" Her guffaws were so loud that the McGonagall swept in with a commanding air.

"What is going on here?" she watched the two students try to stifle their laughter before turning her narrowed eyes on the two mice. Noting their disposition to romance, she sharply said, "If you've had enough horseplay for one day, perhaps you can complete the task properly." Susan had the good grace to frown, but Harry smiled openly, and reverted the spell with a flourish. The mouse with the metallic tail was left trying to push a spoon off of its chest, which it did with little effort, seeming confused by the trials set before him. Susan followed his lead, and soon there were two spoons sitting on the desk.

Once McGonagall had walked away, Susan whispered, "I really needed that, Harry, but let's try not to get in trouble. Okay?" As she said it, she placed a hand on his arm, which she retracted awkwardly a moment later, blushing bright fuschia. Knowing that saying something about her embarrassing moment would only make it so that she never approached him again, he smiled carefully.

"Sure, sure," he said easily. "I know how much you value hard work and staying out of trouble, and even though those aren't exactly my strong suits," he joked, "I wouldn't purposely cause someone misfortune-"

"Not even Malfoy?" she said, smiling sweetly. Harry paused, momentarily caught off-guard by her quick-witted reply.

"Well," Harry admitted, "you didn't let me finish! I wouldn't purposely cause someone misfortune unless they deserved every bit of it."

She laughed, her rosy cheeks shining in the warm light cascading from the nearest window. Harry had never recalled the girl as beautiful, but now that she was smiling at something he did, he had no doubts concerning Susan's good looks. It wasn't lost on him that she was sitting a little closer to him now, and had relaxed quite a bit.

"I heard that he fell down a flight of stairs on the night of the Yule Ball. You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?" She looked at him closely, perhaps discern any signs of deceit, but Harry had been lying to the Dursleys since before he could spell his name. Snickering, he flat denied any responsibility.

"Though I'd love to be witness to Malfoy falling flat on his face, I can't say I had the... ah, priviledge to see him pushed down the stairs. His father, however..." he trailed off, glancing at McGonagall. Fortunately, she was occupied by scolding Neville for holding his wand improperly.

"You know something," she stated, and Harry did nothing to dissuade her. "Tell me, Potter."

"Let's just say a particular house elf owed me a favor, and he wasn't exactly enthralled with his previous employer. The Headmaster's office may have been involved, as well as a rather sweaty gym sock and-"

McGonagall started speaking, saving Harry from further conversation. "That's enough revision for today," she said, swirling her wand in a circle above her head. The students cheered, eager to ease their boredom, if only through more difficult classwork. "Next, we're going to be-"

Harry tuned her out and continued to speak quietly with Susan, who actually had quite a bit in common with him. By the end of the class, she promised him that she'd introduce him to a few more Hufflepuff students, and, at his insistence, to put in a good word with her Aunt Amelia if Harry was ever caught doing magic outside of school.

"I don't think there's much she can do for you if you murder your Aunt and Uncle, but maybe she could get you out of trouble if the spell was in self-defense. You know, like a shield charm or a Jelly-Legs jinx. Still, I wouldn't encourage you to practice Protego outside of school."

He laughed, nudging her slightly with his shoulder. He really liked the girl, though he couldn't see them getting any closer than friends. She was a bit haughty, and more than a little bossy, but her moral compass stayed North and she knew how to crack a decent joke as well. As far as the Hufflepuffs went, she was damn powerful too. "Nah," he said, chuckling, "no sense in blocking spells when you're surrounded by daft Muggles." She momentarily frowned, and he caught himself. "Not that all Muggles are daft, just my family."

She winked. "I know a few of those myself," she admitted. "Anyway, Harry, I'll see you later on. Potions tomorrow, right?"

"I'll be in the last seat to the left, farthest from Snape's desk. You're welcome to join me."

"I thought you paired with Hermione in Potions? Fair warning: she's a much better Potioneer than I am, so you'd probably be better off."

Harry pulled at his tie, suddenly uncomfortable. The students were piling into the hall, and he was stuck in a cluster of students with Susan only a few inches from his shoulder. He placed one arm protectively around her to steer her clear of danger, and she thanked him once they reached fresh air, just out of sight of the majority of students. "I appreciate the warning, but Hermione's not..." he sighed. "She's not really talking to me right now, and neither is Ron."

Susan frowned. "Why not? I thought you three were thick as thieves..."

"I reckon we still are," Harry supposed, "but they're both mad at me right now." At her request, he explained why, without going into too much detail. "I... kind of blew it during the Yule Ball. You saw me and Katie, right?"

"Who didn't?" she asked, acidically. "If you weren't nice to me just now, I'd probably kick you in the shin for what you did to Parvati."

"No need," he laughed, "Hermione already took care of that for you. It still stings, actually..."

"Well, I don't have much time, but if I give you some advice, will you take it?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Fix things with your friends," she said, nodding at Hannah Abbott, who was making her way toward them with a pleasant smile on her face. "You'll never be the same without them," she added, before wishing him a great day and walking away, leaving him all but alone in the hall.

Shrugging, he said, "I'll give it a shot tonight." As he noted Hermione storm from the classroom, her schoolbooks splayed across her chest as she struggled to keep them together, he frowned heavily. "Or... maybe it would be better to wait 'til tomorrow."

-end of Chapter Ten-