Whoa! You've been accustomed to the drabbles, and now I surprise you with a full-blown chapter.
If I had time, I'd write the next chapter to publish within the next few days, but that most likely won't happen. I'll attempt it, though - I have a bit of it written already. It'd be a much better Christmas present than this one!
Yeah - forgive it. It's a little choppy and confused, but I wanted to get it out there soon. Merry Christmas!
"You're not serious. You have to be – maybe this was all a nice joke? Why would she be interested in…that?"
Hermione's face was almost purple with her rage. "Rita Skeeter isn't known for joking." Her hands were shaking so hard that the newspaper rattled; she crumpled it in her fist and smashed it against the bench. "She targeted Harry, through you."
Hermione had only managed to get through one or two lines of the paper before her meltdown. As I couldn't read it, she'd choked out the main point: Rita Skeeter was attacking Harry and his friend-making abilities and Hogwarts, everything from the performance of Madam Pomfrey to Dumbledore for letting me stay.
"She always does stuff like this," said Ron, who was the most calm out of all of us. I was wallowing in disbelief, and Harry hadn't spoken a word, teeth clenched tightly together. "Anything to have a jab at Dumbledore. And Harry's her little hero, remember? Gotta have a dark side to that."
Rita had told a truly horrifying tale of my presence – "an act worth murder in the days of Hogwarts' founders," my acceptance into Harry, Ron, and Hermione's circle "adding yet another poor little boy to Hermione Granger's clutches," and focusing vividly on my leg, which she viewed as a blaspheme against magic and a sign that the wizarding world was about to end.
"I'll get her for this," Hermione hissed as Harry reached mechanically across the table and began to read the article, his face growing whiter and whiter. "She had no right. I swear, if I have to dig up Muggle libel laws, I'll do it. Slander!"
There was quite a bit more attention than usual thrown toward our segment of the Gryffindor table. Verja, sensing Hermione's anger, stalked across the table in front of my plate, chest thrown out.
Someone dropped into the seat beside me, making me jump. Fred threw an arm around my shoulders. "How's the cripple?" he asked in a melodramatic hush. "Coming along here, Hiccup? Sure you don't need a Firewhisky or two to help dull the pain in your heart?"
I cracked a smile. "Oh, dreadful. I'm about to pass out."
"You'll have a real job of the dancing, mate," George said loudly and jovially, scooting into the bench on my other side. "At the you-know-what coming up. Stepping on girls' toes all over the place."
Harry looked up. "What are you talking about?" Verja, noticing his inattention, took the opportunity and set the page aflame. He dropped it with a curse into his plate, where it lay smoldering in his porridge.
"No can tell," Fred shrugged. "We came to offer Hiccup our condolences, here. Real tough, hanging around you three all the time. It's a wonder he keeps up."
"Stop teasing him," Hermione said wearily. "You're just going to make it worse."
I groaned. "It's too much. I just can't take a joke, guys, you know that. Besides, it's mortal agony, remember? If I'm going to endanger the wizarding world as we know it, it might as well hurt."
Ron snorted. "I think he'll be fine, Hermione. But Fred, what were you…?"
George clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll see later. We've only found out early because of a new product in the works – and speaking of that, we've got business. Bye!"
I was still chuckling when they left.
But they didn't let it up. Every time I saw them for the rest of the day, they hurried over to check on me in theatric, dramatically loud voices. They kicked my leg out from under me in the halls and caught me before I fell. They offered tissues and pain potions and told people off for laughing at their antics. When Moody happened to walk by during one of these episodes, Fred ran to him, wrung his hand, and inquired after his leg as well.
It did seem to ease some of the awkward staring that kept after me, though. People seemed alerted that my presence at Hogwarts wasn't really normal and muttered to each other, wondering why a Squib was permitted to stay so long, or at all.
I tried to ignore it – I was sure I'd endured some derogatory comments in my time – but worried. I wasn't even a Squib, I had no magic at all, not a drop. Muggle to the core, and stuck at Hogwarts.
.
Harry and Ron goofed off more and more as the holidays drew closer, paying less attention in class in favor of hangman and joking around. Hermione was furious with both of them and took to the library more and more often by herself for the final push of tests before the holidays.
I was having attention problems as well, which garnered almost more intense disapproval from her, but they truly weren't my fault.
Although nowhere near as eager for the break as the students who actually had to work and nowhere near as stressed, I started having nightmares. I didn't sleep well, fire and haunting screams following me, and the terrifying sensation of uncontrolled freefall. Even while I was awake, images and sensations seemed implanted over reality, but when I reached for them, I couldn't understand.
I was staring off into space distractedly at the end of a transfiguration lesson when McGonagall's voice sliced through the room and caught Harry and Ron of guard, both sitting up quickly.
I blinked hard, shaking my head, and Hermione shot me a concerned glance, which I didn't answer.
"Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age, I have something to say to you all."
My stomach tightened, sure she was about to impart the truth, but she wasn't looking at me. "The Yule Ball is approaching – a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above – although you may invite a younger student if you wish-"
Lavender and Parvati burst into giggles for no reason at all, and looked back at Harry, and my attention started to drift again. I tried to focus on the feel of salt, ingrained in clothing, the smell on the wind –
"Dress robes will be worn." McGonagall was speaking again. "And the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then-"
I'd already seen the dozen Snoggletog trees put up, actual trees instead of shields painted green –
"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to – er-"
I blinked, wondering what I'd thought odd about Christmas trees. Of course, these trees were magic, but –
"But that does NOT mean that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior-"
That didn't exactly specify… Next to me, Hermione was biting her lip and looking ill. The bell rang, and McGonagall called for Harry to join her.
Hermione hovered near the door for a moment as Harry walked to her desk, but Ron waved her on and we went to lunch.
"We're never going to find partners, you know," Ron told me conversationally. "Harry'll have a girl in seconds, you wait. But us three-" he gestured at Hermione "will be enjoying ourselves in a corner, making fun of him."
Hermione kept her eyes to her plate, and I nudged her. "What's wrong?" She shrugged and didn't reply.
Harry and Ron began to panic far sooner than was necessary. They conferred in classes, hallways, and didn't speak of almost anything else.
I thought it was interesting how girls just seemed to wait to be asked, giggling in their little groups instead of marching out and selecting who they wanted to go with.
I was forced to eat the sentiment when Ron and I witnessed Harry get asked to the ball by a third-year. He'd stammered out his no so quickly her eyes had filled with tears. The following day, two others, including a fifth year with impressive biceps and an aggressive aura.
"She was a foot taller than me," Harry tried to explain, looking terrified. "Imagine what I'd look like trying to dance with her!"
"In need of a chiropractor," I told him, and even he finally laughed at that. But as I followed them to Charms, I was thinking. She hadn't been quite a foot, and unconsciously, I rubbed my shoulder.
.
Our next lesson with Hagrid went far better than expected; we were preparing what passed as food for the Skrewts, which would be tested by the fifth years.
"Okay, this isn't really dragon liver, right?" I sighed. "Okay, even if it is, please tell me it isn't."
Hagrid gave me a sad look. "'Fraid so, Hiccup. Mos' people jus' don agree with us. Think dragons are dang'rous. Use the blood n' guts fer all sorts a potions an magic. Some wandmakers evn put heartstrings in their wands."
"What? No! But-"
"How did your interview with Rita Skeeter go, Hagrid?" Hermione was rocking a little in her chair, every muscle tense with anxiety.
Hagrid was willing to share his disappointment. "She didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth. She jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Harry. Well, I told her we'd been friends since I went ter fetch yeh from the Dursleys. 'Never had to tell him off in four years?' she said. 'Never played you up in lessons, has he?' I told her no, and she didn' seem happy at all. Yeh'd think she wanted me to say yeh were horrible, Harry."
"'Course she did," Harry snorted. "She can't keep writing about what a tragic little hero I am, it'll get boring. She's already started on me for being friends with Hiccup."
Hagrid's eyes widened. "What's she been sayin-"
"She wants a new angle, Hagrid," Ron said, shaking his head. "You were supposed to say Harry's a mad delinquent!"
"But he's not!"
"Not yet, anyway," I said to Hermione quietly. She stifled a giggle.
"Hanging out with Hermione, a Muggleborn, me, a practical pauper, and then we have Hiccup, the wounded Squib-"
"She should've interviewed Snape." Harry cut Ron off. "He'd give her the goods on me any day. 'Potter has been crossing lines ever since he first arrived at this school…'"
"He said that?" Hagrid patted Harry on the back. "Well, yeh might've bent a few rules, Harry, bu' yeh're all righ' really, aren' you?"
"Cheers, Hagrid," he grinned.
"You coming to this ball thing on Christmas Day, Hagrid?" Ron looked up at Hagrid, who shuffled a little.
"Though' I might look in on it, yeah. Should be a good do, I reckon. You'll be openin the dancin', won yeh, Harry? Who're you takin'?"
Harry flushed deeply, sliced something red and gooey, and tossed it into the bowl with a squelch. "No one. Yet."
.
A week before the end of term, Hermione joined me in the common room in front of the fire. Harry and Ron were still at dinner; I'd left with Hermione but been sent on when she deserted to go to the library instead.
"Ron's not going to ask me to the Yule Ball." It was a fact, a bland, bald statement. I stared at her.
"Uh, no?" A thought hit me. "Did you want him to?"
Hermione gave a strange little shrug and didn't answer.
The next morning at breakfast, she was a little cheerier. "What're you all happy about?" I asked, angling my body away from Harry and Ron's conversation.
She smiled. "Last night, Viktor Krum asked me to the Yule Ball. I told him yes just now."
I was shocked. "Whoa – wow. Congratulations! I think. What happened to Ron?"
.
Fred and George interrupted Harry's and Ron's wasting time the day before the last day of term, and, for them, a potions test and instigated a fight between Ron and Hermione by bringing the Yule Ball topic back to the table.
"We should get a move on, you know," Ron told Harry and I. "Ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."
Harry gave a nod.
"Wait, trolls? Trolls?"
Hermione, reliable as she was, didn't answer. "A pair of…what, excuse me?"
"You actually know trolls?"
"Well – you know." Ron was nonchalant. "I'd rather go alone than with…" He thought for a moment. "Eloise Midgen, say."
"Her acne's loads better lately," Hermione protested. I nodded in agreement. "And she's really nice!"
"Her nose is off-center," Ron said, calmly superior.
"He has a point," I said lowly, switching sides. "The nose part is kind of her fault."
"Oh, I see." Hermione sniffed and stared down her nose at him. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"
Ron pretended to consider. "Er…yeah, that sounds about right."
"I'm going to bed."
.
The last day of term, Harry and Ron made a deal. By the time they both got back to the common room at the end of the day, they would have partners.
"You in on this, Hiccup?" Ron craned his neck to see me as I leaned against the wall, watching their huddle amusedly.
"Ah, no. I mean, George was sort of right. I'm not going to be doing much of the, uh, dancing."
"Your loss," Ron shrugged.
But to my surprise, two girls, (apparently very, very desperate), tried to ask me.
And, unfortunately, both came at the same time.
Nicolette Wayne, who hadn't spoken more than the odd shy hello to me since I'd made a place for myself with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, caught me on the first-floor landing in the rare moment I was by myself.
"Hi, Hiccup." She tucked a lock of her dark hair behind her ear and didn't give me a chance to reciprocate the greeting. "I – um, I was wondering if – if you're not going to go to the Yule Ball with Hermione Granger, if you would, maybe, consider going with –"
"Hi, Hiccup!" Annie-the-Hufflepuff, who'd made it a point to wave enthusiastically every time she saw me, bounced up the marble staircase. "Why don't we go to the ball together?"
Nicolette's mouth wobbled and she pressed her lips together. "How dare you!" Color rose from her collarbones to her hairline. "Couldn't you see that I was just about to ask him?"
"Want to go with me, Hiccup?" Annie asked again, over Nicolette's shoulder. "I'll be a better time than her, any-"
I took a small step back.
"Stop it!" Nicolette looked on the verge of tears. "Will you just stop it?" Annie pushed her shoulder, and Nicolette slapped her. "You always take whatever I want!"
"Uh, uh -" I was panicking, and invented wildly, saying the first thing I could think of. "I – I have a girlfriend!"
Nicolette stopped. Annie stopped.
"N-not here," I stuttered, anxious to clarify what I meant. "Not Hermione. Um, at home. My home. Not here. So, I'm, like, not going with anyone. Wouldn't be fair. To her."
"To her," Nicolette repeated slowly. "Right."
"Liar," Annie tossed casually over her shoulder as they walked away.
I breathed out in relief, and a small monk in the painting across the hall looked at me sympathetically. "Close one, yes?"
"Oooh, yeah."
Home?
.
At lunch, Hermione flopped onto the bench beside me and whispered in my ear that Neville had asked her to go to the ball.
"I told him no," she said, frowning. "And I didn't want to go with him or anything, but I told him no, because of Krum, you know? But now everyone – Harry and Ron – they're going to think that I said no just because it's Neville."
"Neville's fine," I said. "Seriously, everyone needs to cut him some slack. Is he going to go with anyone, then?"
Hermione didn't know. "I told him Ginny wanted to come and didn't have anyone, so maybe he'll ask her and at least two people will have a nice night."
"Wait, what about you? Don't you think you're going to have fun with Krum? I mean, he's, like, a famous Quidditch player and everything. Should be interesting to talk to, right?"
"I suppose." After that, she wouldn't say another word on the subject.
.
After Potions, Harry ran off saying he'd meet us at dinner. Hermione, Ron, and I headed that way, debating who he was going to ask.
"I have no idea," Ron said glumly. "He never seems to pay attention to any girls. He's always just-"
"It's Cho Chang," Hermione said definitively. "I'll bet you any money you want, he's asking Cho Chang right now."
"Hang on a second," I said. "Isn't Cho Chang, like, taken? Tall champion guy who got burned at the First Task?"
Ron gave a shout of laughter. "You think she'll stick with him or go for the Boy Who Lived?"
Hermione looked at him severely. "I should hope she stays with Cedric. She wouldn't be a girl worth anything at all if she ditched him as soon as a better asker came around."
Ron pursed his lips. "But is there a higher asker than Harry?"
"Well, me, obviously," I snarked. "I actually had two girls fighting each other earlier today. It was kind of terrible. I bet it stinks to be famous."
Ron sighed. "Well, if I ever am, you'll be the first to know-"
"Hi, Ginny!" Hermione left Ron and I and hurried over to the doors of the Great Hall. "I heard you're going with Neville."
We went inside, and all the way to the Gryffindor table, the girls talking, before I realized we'd lost Ron. Hermione and Ginny were engaged in conversation ("Well, it's the only way I'd be allowed to go…" "Don't worry, he'll come to his senses eventually,") so I turned and went back to the Entrance Hall.
The scene I became witness to was rather horrifying.
"Ball with me?" Ron had a very scary look on his face, a kind of absence of intelligence, and I stared.
The woman – well, girl – he was talking to turned slowly, her white-gold hair flashing back as she tossed her head to look at him – the champion whose skirt had caught fire.
Ron seemed to shrink into himself, and the girl stared down at him. Then Ron turned and ran up the marble staircase.
I blinked, and turned to look back at the Great Hall. Ginny had come up beside me and was watching her brother disappear, open-mouthed. "Did you see that?" I asked her.
She nodded.
We followed a little slower. "He'll have gone to the common room," Ginny told me. "He's hiding."
"Mm." I coughed a little. "So, um, are you going with anyone? I'm not asking," I said hastily. "Just wondering."
"Neville," she admitted. "It's the only way I'll be allowed to go, since I'm not in fourth year yet… And I wasn't even his first choice. He asked Hermione first." She gave me a meaningful look.
"Oh, God. I don't even want to go," I confessed, allowing her to steer the conversation away from a mention of Harry. "I mean, just sitting around and watching everybody else dance, and me, like, not dancing, by myself?"
"I heard you have a girlfriend," Ginny smirked. "'At home.'"
"I don't, I just – wait, how did you hear that?"
"Annie's in my Transfiguration class."
"But…yeah. She came up while Nicolette Wayne was trying to – uh, ask me out, and they started fighting, and-"
"And that was the only thing you could think of," Ginny finished. "You could've done worse. But everyone's going; you don't want to sit in the tower alone all night, do you?"
I shrugged.
The Fat Lady was in a cheerful mood, and we caught up to Ron just as he was stumbling through the portrait hole.
"You gonna live, Ron?"
Ron threw himself onto a couch, pressing his face into a pillow. Ginny raised her eyebrows at me and we sat on either side of him.
"It'll be all right, Ron," Ginny said smoothly. "We'll find you somebody to go to the dance with…"
Ron moaned. "Why? Why did I do it? Everyone saw – fool of myself – they'll be talking about this for years – can't – you can't let Fred and George find out about this-"
Harry had entered the common room, dismal and looking slightly crushed. "What's up, Ron?"
"Why did I do it?" he repeated. "I don't know what made me do it!"
Harry looked inquiringly at Ginny and I.
"He – er – just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him." Ginny's lips wavered into a half-smile, and she bit it back quickly.
Harry's glumness turned to horror. "You what?"
"I don't know what made me do it! What was I playing at? There were people – all around – I've gone mad – everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall – she was standing there talking to Diggory – and it sort of came over me – and I asked her!"
Ron hid his face in his arms. "Looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then – I dunno – I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."
"It wasn't your fault," Harry assured him. "You were right, she's part Veela, her grandmother was one. I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it-" his vibrancy faded "But she was wasting her time. He's going with Cho Chang."
Ron looked up and made eye contact with me. I shrugged back.
Harry continued, toneless. "I asked her to go with me just now, and she told me."
"I guess this means we owe Hermione, like, money or something," I said, and Ron sniggered, then straightened up determinedly.
"This is mad," said Ron. "We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone – well, except Neville. Hey – guess who he asked? Hermione!"
"What?" Harry sat down, floored.
I was quiet, thinking. It was like politics, in a way, everyone choosing what information to impart, and what to keep to themselves. Ginny cast me a sad look.
"Yeah, I know!" Ron had perked up and began to laugh. "He told me after Potions! Said she's always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff – but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn't want to go with Neville…I mean, who would?"
"Don't-" Ginny tried to stop them. "Don't laugh at-"
Hermione appeared, looking confused as she sank into a chair opposite the couch. "Why weren't any of you at dinner?"
"Because – oh, shut up laughing, you two – because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!"
Harry and Ron spluttered into silence.
"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," Ron growled.
"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" Hermione blinked innocently. "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone somewhere who'll have you."
Ron was staring at her, eyes growing wider by the second.
"Hermione, Neville's right – you are a girl…"
"Oh, well spotted," she sneered.
"Well – you can come with one of us!" He didn't include me in the blanket statement, and Hermione's eyes flickered over for a second before she snapped, "No, I can't."
"Oh, come on. We need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has…"
"I can't come with you because I'm already going with someone." Hermione's face was becoming pinker with every word.
"No, you're not," Ron said impatiently. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"
"Oh, did I? Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"
Ron watched her breathe heavily for a moment. "Okay, okay," he conceded with a grin. "We know you're a girl. That do? Will you come now?"
"I've already told you!" Hermione exploded. "I'm going with someone else!" She stood up and stomped up to the girls' dormitories.
"She's lying," Ron said, and I frowned. Why was Ron determined to believe that no one would have asked her?
"She's not," Ginny defended softly.
"Who is it then?" Ron latched on with laser focus.
"I'm not telling you, it's her business," Ginny began to say, and Ron's gaze swung over to me.
"She's not going with Hiccup, is she?" His mouth dropped open.
"No!" Agitated, I stood, then sat again. "No, she's not. She actually does have a date, though, but I'm not going with anyone. I'd just look more stupid making some girl sit out of the dancing than sitting there by myself."
Ron tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Right. This is getting stupid. Ginny, you can go with Harry, and I'll just-"
Ginny shot me a tragic look. "I can't. I'm going with – with Neville. He asked me when Hermione said no, and I thought…well…I'm not going to be able to go otherwise, I'm not in fourth year." She sighed. "I think I'll go and have dinner." And looking defeated, she stood and left.
"What's got into them?" Ron said furiously.
Harry was watching something at the other side of the room. I turned to look, and saw Parvati and Lavender heading toward the dormitories from the portrait hole.
Harry stood, told us, "Wait here," and went over to stand directly in front of them, and said something. Loud giggles drifted over to our corner, and finally Parvati nodded, blushing and smiling. Harry's shoulders sagged with relief as he asked something else.
More giggles, and Harry took a step closer. They had a short conversation, then the girls scampered off, and Harry returned to the couch.
"Thank me later," he sighed. "Once this stupid ball is finished."
