The Revised Chronicles of
Those-Who-Lived
Chapter Twenty-One:
Harry and Alan met in the library on Sunday. The Slytherin was at the table already, surrounded by books, most of which weren't from the Restricted section this time. Harry scanned the spines, finding three different tomes on languages of the world and one on mythical beasts before he took his usual seat. Hauling out his own homework, Harry asked, "What the Hell did you do, Alan?"
Harry received a dark glance, and then a smile. "Tried several charms against the egg itself, pissed off the dragon, tied it up, raced over, kicked the egg, crouched, shielded, and took it down once I had the egg in hand and was out of the danger zone.
Harry stared before shaking his head. "You make it sound so easy."
"You ever tried to conjure steel?" He shot back. "It's horribly complicated. I had four days to practise, and I still fucked it up."
"Hey, I said sound, Alan. Don't get in a knot about it."
Alan flushed. "Sorry. I've had terrible sunburn for the last few days, and it's at the itchy stage. I told Pomfrey and Louis I was fine, but now it's driving me crazy. At least my face isn't peeling, but my ankle…" He sighed. "I'm not going to risk my score telling them I sprained my ankle, either."
Harry fought down his laughter. Alan was such a poseur. "You sure no one you know can heal it? Maybe Severus or Louis…"
"Louis would skin me alive if he knew I hadn't told him I was hurt. Severus would probably box my ears for being a cocky idiot."
Harry drummed his fingers on the table and sighed. "How about I ask my mum for something? Or you could ask Green."
Alan paused. "Green could probably do something about the sunburn, and if I tell him I don't want Louis' lecture he'll just commiserate. What do you think your mum could do?"
Harry gave Alan a bland look. "She raised two kids, and babysat three more. She's healed more sprains than I remember getting. Of course, if she doesn't know how to heal those by now, with three boys to take care of…"
"Alright!" Alan laughed. "Send a copy of the spell to me when you get it, okay? And learn it yourself; it won't kill you."
Harry grinned. "Good." He nodded in satisfaction and turned back to his book. Alan made an exasperated noise and a few seconds later the page beneath his eyes blurred. A large smiley face leered out from the haze and then stuck out its tongue before disappearing, the page back to normal. Harry jerked and glared back at Alan, but his friend was no longer looking. Harry shook his head and went back to reading, humming as he slipped his hand under the table and sent a hex in return.
Alan would probably retaliate again, but that would be after he shifted his feet and found out his shoelaces had been braided together.
IIII
Harry's spirits were soaring as he went back into classes the next week. Despite himself, he was still cheerful as he went into Meditations Tuesday afternoon: he'd gotten Alan to give him some of the burn cream Green had sent, so his sore fingers weren't nearly as bad as they could have been. Fervently, he wished for Hagrid to get rid of the Blast-Ended Skrewts, and just as fervently hoped Dumbledore could talk some sense into him.
Rita Skeeter had come to their class – tailing Alan, no doubt – and brought the conversation around to Hagrid and what he was doing. Harry was pretty sure the Skrewts were illegal in some way or another – especially since he had no idea what they were.
Professor Zen dragged a piece of hard chalk – Harry was sure he ordered it special just to have that loud grating noise – and the entire class instantly went silent. He turned to them and smiled. "Excellent. You're all doing very well. I have looked over the reports from your teachers on your performance, and they all concur that your strength has increased at least to some degree. Again, I know you will feel little in that regard – it takes long familiarity with spells and their nuances before you can see it yourself, but once you are past your OWLs, you will have a better feel for it.
"Now, I have up here an article from the European Magical Monthly. Su Li, please hand them out." Harry leaned over so she could step between him and Rivers to take the thick magazines from him and hand them to the circle of students. "I expect the magazines back in one piece, or you each owe me a galleon – that is not a toy. It is a back issue, from 1990. On page twenty, you will find an article on lying. Take the time to read it, and I expect both a two-foot report on it, and this class. Put them in your bags, and face front."
Harry did so carefully, looking over the cover. It wasn't just lying covered in the magazine: there was another article mentioned on the front about interrogations and something about the weather in Russia that summer. It was a November issue.
Pulling himself from it, Harry returned his attention to class. He would examine it when he didn't have Professor Zen giving him, and a few others, an expectant look.
"I understand it is a rare magazine, but surely you've heard of it before. Nott, you were unsurprised."
Theodore Nott shrugged idly. "My father's gotten the magazine as long as I can remember. The only issues he's missing is from the seventies to eighty-four. I think he has one of the first issues from the fifties."
"Yes," Professor Zen nodded. "It is an exclusive magazine, but it covers some very in depth articles. However, we're here for lying." His mouth quirked. "And no, you do not get points for lying about your homework this week."
IIII
Alan was trying to relax into doing his Defence homework after the first task when Severus came into the Slytherin common room and called for a meeting. The students looked at each other curiously before giving him their attention. Alan closed his book slowly and frowned.
"Thank you for your attention." He sneered. "The Triwizard Tournament traditionally has a Yule Ball, an opportunity," His mouth twitched, "to socialize with our foreign guests. The ball is open only to fourth-years and above – and their dates, if you wish to ask a younger student along."
Several students giggled; a few began to whisper only to fall silent once more as Severus glared around the room and continued.
"Dress robes are to be worn, and the ball begins at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight, in the Great Hall."
Severus' scowl deepened; he straightened, and turned his hard gaze around the room once more. "It is a chance to… relax among company, but your behaviour is still under scrutiny. Do try not to embarrass yourself, your House, or our illustrious school."
Alan held in a snort.
"Prince, come here."
Alan frowned suspiciously, but he put aside his work and stepped up. Severus didn't bother stepping out of the room, he just explained, "The champions and their partners open the ball. Find yourself a date, and make sure you know how to dance."
Grimacing, Alan nodded curtly, and stepped back, bowing mockingly before returning to his homework. He didn't look to see how his father had reacted. He was just grateful he at least had the basics of how to dance down. Sort of.
"If you need help with the steps," Lucille started, "I can give you some pointers."
Alan grinned. "Is that you asking me to the Ball, Lucy?"
She glared at him for the nickname and jerked her hand towards Salvador next to her. "Too late, he already asked in the minute you were up there with Professor Snape."
Alan gave him a quiet clap. "Nice work, Salvador."
The tall black boy shrugged. "I was waiting for it to happen. I knew there would be a Yule Ball already. Do you have someone in mind, or are you going to be floundering in this?"
"I have a few people in mind." Alan shrugged. "But I wouldn't mind a refresher on how to dance either." He turned to his friends at his sides. "What about you, Blaise?" He wouldn't ask Daphne. He knew whom she wanted, and whom she was very unlikely to get.
He was surprised when his friend turned as red as his dark skin allowed.
"Blaise?" Alan asked again, and then stopped. "Oh. Ohhhh. You're gonna want to catch her soon, or she'll sign up to go home for Christmas."
"I am not asking her."
"Who does he want?" Lucille leaned forward.
"I'm not asking her, Alan!"
Ignoring him, Alan turned to answer Lucille, "The littlest Weasley. He's convinced it'd be taboo, or his mother would throw a fit. One of the two."
"Blaise, don't be stupid." Salvador shook his head. "Your mother would cut off her right arm for you. She adores you – you ever heard the term 'favourite child'?"
"Shut up!" He was even redder now. "Fine, I'll ask! She'll then laugh and flat-out refuse, and sic her brothers on me. Happy?"
"Sure." Alan shrugged. "Lemme know when the brother's are coming; there's a wide-range spell I want to try."
Blaise glared at him. Alan smiled brightly back.
IIII
Christmas break had never been so crowded. Harry was sure absolutely everyone was going to be signing on to stay: he was almost surprised when Nanna informed him she was going home for the break, as was Melanie. Ginny, however, refused their invitations to come over.
"I'm staying, Melanie. I got asked to the ball, so I'm going."
Ron choked. Fred and George spun around to jump in on her.
"Ginny! Who asked you?" George demanded. Melanie echoed him, bouncing in place.
"A boy." She answered curtly. "A sweet boy. Melanie, Nanna, come up to my dorm and I'll tell you all about it."
The Weasley boys could only watch in shock as she left. Harry stifled a snort. His desire to laugh faded as Ron's stomach growled, drawing him out of his brotherly outrage with a blank look.
"Hungry?" Harry asked, smirking.
Ron glanced at his stomach and huffed. "Yeah … they serve lunch about now on Saturday, right?"
Harry refrained from reminding him it'd been the same for four years and merely nodded, getting up and leading the way to the Great Hall – leaving Neville with Hermione, both bent over their own homework. Harry would've crossed his fingers, but this was the first time since the ball had been announced that Neville hadn't tried to avoid her.
The Great Hall was scattered with small packs of girls, looking at the boys passing, and giggling amongst themselves. Harry immediately picked out Alan at the Slytherin table, sitting with his chair leaned back on two legs and for all appearances entranced by the cloudy ceiling. He followed Ron to seats at the Gryffindor table, picking out his own food but sending periodic looks at Alan. Alan hadn't lingered in the Great Hall since the Tournament started, not without a book on his lap.
Harry had barely started mentally speculating what Alan would do for the Ball when Blaise turned and said something to him, and Alan dropped back to the ground. The champion pushed back his chair and stood, sweeping around the bottom of the table to come up on the far side of the Ravenclaw one. Halfway up the length, he stopped and, speaking at a normal tone in a dead silent hall, was heard by everyone.
"Miss Lovegood, would you go to the Yule Ball with me?"
Harry choked. Alan was asking who to the Yule Ball?
"Why thank you, Prince, but I don't really know how to dance." Lovegood answered, sounding like she wasn't sure what he was asking her to in the first place. Harry didn't know if she even remembered there was going to be a ball at all.
"I'd be honoured to help you learn, if you like." Alan offered. Harry hadn't heard him sound that sweet before. It was a fake-sounding earnestness you might use on a nervous pet. Luna either didn't notice or didn't care.
"Why thank you, Alan. I accept."
Alan bent and apparently kissed Luna's hand before he returned to the Slytherin table and turned down it to stick his tongue out at a group of older girls. Harry snickered, and Ron, beside him, shook his head slowly.
"What's he doing taking Loony Lovegood to the ball?"
Harry chuckled. "I'll be he's doing it to get the other stupid girls off his back. He's a champion; how would it look if he didn't have a date? And Luna probably won't get any crazy ideas."
Ron shuddered. "If she did, it'd be scary."
Harry paused, momentarily horrified. "Well, yeah, there is that." He shook his head. "Who are you going to take to the Ball?"
Ron shrugged with forced casualness. "Can't think of anyone, really."
"You know," Harry grinned, "it doesn't have to be a Gryffindor. You could ask Padma, or maybe … Hannah Abbott."
Ron turned considering, then he shot Harry a glare. "Is Neville going to ask Hermione anytime soon?"
"He hasn't yet." Harry shrugged. "If he doesn't do it now, he probably won't get his ass in gear for at least a week."
Ron shook his head. "I'll leave him to it. Do you think Hannah might have a date? She's not bad…"
Harry gave him a wry grin. "Well, she's sitting right across from us. Are you a Gryffindor or not? You're not a champion, so the hall shouldn't fall quiet at the sight of your mug."
Ron paled and swallowed a mouthful hard. He squared his shoulders and quailed. "Maybe once I'm done eating…" He shoved another forkful into his mouth, chewing busily.
Harry shrugged. "Well, she might be asked before you get around to it by someone with more courage."
Ron turned immediately and glared, swallowing hard. He shook his head in disgust. "Slythindor." He spat, and stood, stalking down around the bottom of the table to come up behind Hannah where she was sitting with her friends.
The girls all fell silent as Ron approached, but no one else did: the hall was still a blur of sound, and Harry could only tell Ron was asking her because he turned the famous Weasley red. Ron nodded quickly, his mouth splitting into a wide grin before he turned and walked back with a spring in his step. The Hufflepuff girls all broke into a fit of giggles, shooting looks at the retreating Weasley.
Ron sat back down, beaming. "She said yes! I've got a date, Harry, she said yes!"
Harry laughed. "I knew you could do it. It wasn't that hard, was it?"
"No… But now it's your turn."
Harry choked on his drink. "I can't think of anyone, honest." That was a lie. The first to come to mind was Hermione, but she was Neville's crush. The next he wouldn't dare – the last was the strange girls who kept sending him Valentine's – three girls, actually, and he had no idea who they were – but a few close guesses.
"Sure you can." Ron argued. "You could always ask Padma, you know." He grinned as he said it, even as Harry sent him a rude gesture. Everyone who knew him, knew how much he hated the Patils.
"Yeah, right." Harry laughed. "The only girl who comes to mind is Hermione, and I wouldn't dare ask her."
"Well fine." Ron shrugged, returning to his meal. He waved his fork in Harry's face as he swallowed another large bite and continued, "You'd better not go dateless to the Ball, though. If I have to put up with my dress robes…" Ron shook his head in disgust.
"I remember my mum mentioning something about maroon ones your mother had her eye on in a second-hand shop. They even had lace, but my mother said she'd dragged her somewhere else." Harry propped his head on his hand. "What did yours end up being?"
Ron tucked the last bite away and glared at Harry. Ron glanced at his plate – Harry had finished his two sandwiches while watching the dramatics – and dragged Harry out of his seat and back upstairs, stopping only once to return Hannah's wave from the Hufflepuff table.
Back up in their dorm, Neville was lying on his bed with a book on his chest. He looked up as Ron stormed in and threw open his trunk, fishing around through it for his dress robes. He tugged them out and shook them down with an irritated flourish. Neville whistled lowly.
"Those are nice, Ron."
The robes were a deep brown, with Celtic knot work along the hems in golden thread. The gold thread looked gaudy against the simple fabric, but they'd look nice on Ron without looking like a train wreck of colour.
"I think they're fine." Harry shrugged. "They could've been maroon, you know, with lace."
Ron shuddered and made to toss his robes back into the trunk, but he paused instead and took the time to fold them again. Harry tried not to smile: Ron was making an effort to take care of his new robes. They wouldn't have been even a quarter as expensive as Neville's, much less his – which were twice as expensive as Neville's – but they were probably one of his few new things.
"Whatever. I still don't like them."
"I'm sure Hannah will agree with me."
Neville perked. "Hannah?"
Ron straightened. "I actually asked her. In the Great Hall, just now. She said yes, too. I'm going to go tell Dean and Seamus." He darted out without waiting for an answer. Neville watched him go with a smirk and turned back to Harry with a raised eyebrow. Harry couldn't help it; he started laughing, Neville quickly following suit.
"How did you talk him into that?" Neville managed.
"Alan had just gotten up and asked Lovegood." Harry sniggered. "I played off his courage, that if Alan could get up and do it, so could he."
"I can so see that." Neville shook his head. "But Lovegood? What is he thinking…"
"She's probably okay." Harry shrugged. "Did you ask Hermione yet?"
Neville flushed. "Do you have anyone in mind?" He shot back.
The effect was perfect: Harry flushed. It was one thing to lie to Ron; it was another thing entirely to lie to Neville. Harry shrugged and turned aside, answering under his breath. "Not in this lifetime."
"So you're not going to ask her?"
Harry glared at him. "I can't, Neville, we'd both be lynched! She probably wouldn't even accept; neither of her parents like the Potters at all. We're not 'good enough'; remember? They didn't even care last year, when their daughter had Pettigrew sleeping in her room!"
Neville grinned. "So it is Daphne."
Harry suddenly flushed again and turned away. "Yeah, so? I'm not asking her. I'll ask Parvati or Lavender before I'd subject her to that."
Neville blanked his face and ducked back into his curtains, shutting Harry out. Upset at himself and at his friend, Harry ducked behind his own and hauled out his homework. He pulled out the European Magical Monthly magazine and began to flip through the articles, determined to lose himself in it for a good while.
IIII
Two days later they entered the last week of term and Harry still hadn't gotten anywhere with his decision. Surprisingly, Neville hadn't gotten around to asking Hermione either, and Harry finally got tired of the nonsense. Hagrid made the perfect opportunity in their last class of term with him, complaining about Skeeter's interview – which had been more asking what he knew of Alan Prince than of the Skrewts. She had deflated quickly, it seemed, when Hagrid said he was a very helpful student. Ron wasn't the least interested in how it went after that, and immediately asked Hagrid if he was planning to go to the Ball.
"Though' I might look in on it, yeah." Hagrid nodded. "Should be a good do, I reckon. Do you all have dates?"
Ron nodded eagerly. "I've got a date with Hannah Abbott."
Hermione said nothing, and Harry merely turned red, turning back to chopping up the meat with interest. Wisely, Hagrid didn't pursue the topic, leaving them to depart for lunch in complete silence. When they entered the Great Hall and met up with Neville, Harry deliberately chose the seat next to him. Soft conversation started, and they left for Arithmancy before Harry pulled Neville back to talk.
"You still haven't asked her." Harry hissed. "If you don't get your ass in gear, I'm going to set you up with Parvati."
Neville snorted softly, his face pale. "Fine. I'll ask at dinner. You, then, get to ask Susan Bones or I'll set you up with Parvati myself. I'd better see you do it at dinner, too."
"I'm not asking her in front of everybody!"
"Then catch her after. I will go through with my threat."
Harry scowled, but he was fighting a small smirk. "I know."
Neville held up his end early into the meal that evening. "Hermione?" He asked, turning pink as she looked up. "Would you go to the ball with me?"
Hermione covered her mouth and swallowed, her face falling. "Oh, Neville. I'm sorry; I'm already going with someone else."
Harry thought Neville hid his dismay very well. Neville swallowed lightly and looked down at his plate, answering without looking at her. "Oh, well. Sorry."
"It's alright." Hermione reassured him. A look at her face, and Harry had to look away quickly not to cough in surprise. She looked really disappointed. "I'd love to have a dance with you, though. I'm sure my date won't mind."
"Really?" Neville glanced back up, his face only a little pale. "That would be great. Can I ask who you're going with?"
Hermione smirked. "I'd like to keep it a secret until then, actually. I'm sure you'll be surprised."
Harry caught Neville's eye and smiled wryly. "Hermione, with that tone of voice, I'd guess you'd gotten asked by Prince if I didn't know he'd already asked Lovegood."
Hermione quickly returned her attention to her plate, and Harry shared a confused look with Neville. He'd ask Neville who his second choice was later, when Hermione wasn't at the table with them.
Dinner ended a lot sooner than Harry had hoped, and he left quickly, checking the Hufflepuff table for Susan to make sure he hadn't missed her. He hadn't, and he waited at the door for her to go by; Neville wasn't too far away, waiting as well. Harry didn't have time to ask him, as Susan came out with a group of girls that included Hannah Abbott.
"Susan?" Harry asked. "Could I have a moment?"
The girls around her burst into giggles, and Harry flushed. Susan was blushing too as she stepped out of the group to stand by him. "Yes, Harry?"
"Do you have a date to the Ball?" Susan shook her head slowly, a smile blossoming on her face. "Would you like to go with me?" Harry finished quickly, and then he hastened to add, "Just friends, you know. I'd like your company."
Susan nodded carefully. "Sure, Harry. I love to go with you as a friend." She smiled with what Harry thought was relief, and he suspected that she, like him, must have somebody else that really caught her eye that she wasn't willing to ask or was already taken.
"Great. I'll meet you by the Hufflepuff common room, then?"
"You know where it is?" Susan asked, surprised.
Harry grinned. "I know where all the common rooms are. Would you rather just meet here, in the Entrance Hall?"
She shook her head, grinning. "No, meet me at the Hufflepuff entrance. I'll wait for you there, okay?"
Harry nodded and, impulsively, he bowed over her hand and kissed it before walking away. He was surprised to find that Neville wasn't waiting for him, but had instead approached a group of Ravenclaws and was talking to them. They giggled and tittered worse than Susan's friends, and finally Neville came over to him with a disgusted expression. He shrugged at Harry's look.
"Asked Padma. I won't feel bad ignoring her."
Harry blinked. "You really like Hermione." He stated.
Neville shrugged again and picked up his pace, leading the way back to the Gryffindor dorms.
Harry didn't press.
IIII
Harry yawned and stretched out his back, sighing heavily as he turned to grin at Ron. They gathered their books and made it out the door of the Potions classroom before Ron started complaining.
"I can't believe he threw that test on us," Ron moaned. "I forgot half the stuff I needed; it turned green on me. Green!"
Harry smiled faintly. He'd nearly done as bad as Ron. If Alan hadn't suddenly had a coughing fit near the end of the potion, he would have failed – he'd have forgotten the bezoar, too distracted trying to talk himself into believing his choice not to ask Daphne was right. Staring at the back of her head hadn't helped.
Neville had finally gotten over himself – he was no longer avoiding Hermione, and they were dissecting the test several feet ahead.
As they came up to the Entrance Hall, a shrill voice Harry knew and hated cut in,
"Are you going to the ball with Weasley, Potter?" Pansy gave a high laugh, "I can't imagine you found a girl willing to go with you, after all. But surely you can do better than a Weasley."
Harry turned around and smiled coldly at her. "Well, at least I didn't have to agree to go with Malfoy. Did you accept because you actually like him, or are you finally engaged with no options anymore?"
Draco turned pink, and Pansy gasped in outrage. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd gotten stuck taking the toothy mudblood! I'm sure a good poison would take care of that!"
Harry didn't even go for his wand; Alan already had his out, and Pansy's robes suddenly turned a sickly yellow-brown – with the same smell of diarrhoea that had plagued Lockhart second year. Hermione came up to his shoulder and smiled sweetly Pansy's way as the Slytherin girl tried not to vomit over her sticky, dripping robes. Everyone ignored Alan passing by with his friends, his hand over his nose.
"Yellow's a lovely colour for you, Pansy." Hermione smiled. "A warning sign. Just because you don't like your date, doesn't mean you have to insult mine. I'm sure you could've gotten away with asking Harry yourself if you were so interested."
Harry turned to Hermione in horror, but she merely smiled down at him and swept into the Great Hall, a stately princess far nobler than half of Slytherin. Harry spared only another moment's look at Pansy before he gagged and followed Hermione inside, hoping his appetite would return without the rancid smell permeating the Great Hall.
He'd have to talk to Alan about choosing a better time for spells like that. Even Fred and George weren't that bad.
Neville was bowing Hermione into her seat at the Gryffindor table, both of them still grinning. Harry slid into the seat across from them beside Ron, and quickly gave Hermione a high five. With all the grinning, Harry got a sudden insight staring at Hermione's teeth, and had to comment,
"Madam Pomfrey did a good job restoring your teeth earlier this year." He ventured, hoping…
Hermione smiled brightly at him once again, "She did, didn't she?"
"A great job. They're perfect."
Hermione smiled again and Harry took the time to really note the difference. They were no longer that edge of too big, and fit her mouth nicely.
"I know." Hermione added.
Harry grinned and turned back to his meal.
IIII
Christmas came, and the Durmstrang ship looked like a frosted ghost in the lake, the iced pumpkin of Beauxbatons perched on the snowy lawn. In his cozy dorm, Harry woke to Christmas morning and fought not to frown at his draped curtains. A fit of dread hit him for a moment: the last time he'd spent Christmas at Hogwarts had been second year. He'd been hiding from his family after he discovered he was a Parselmouth, fearing his father would hate him.
Now, it was a far different reason: the Yule Ball was this year, and yes, he did have a date. Harry grinned. Susan Bones was a fun girl to hang around, and this time he wasn't flustered trying to keep away from the Patil girls. He was going to be able to avoid the Ministry party this year, but he would miss being at home in the Potter manor.
Determined to distract himself, Harry sat up and leaned forward, smiling as he glimpsed the mass of presents stacked over his trunk and the end of his bed.
The first present he picked up was from 'the Marauders'. It was not a good sign, but certainly a fun one. It was addressed to both him and Neville. With a sneaking suspicion, Harry leaned off his bed to snag a shoe and throw it through Neville's curtains to wake him up. His brother yelped, scrambling up from his bed to shove his head through the curtains.
"Harry, what the bloody Hell was that for?"
"Neville, it's Christmas." Harry said, exasperated. "And I've got a present from the Marauders addressed to both of us, so if you want to see it…"
Neville's eyes widened, and he tore his curtains open to stumble off his bed to drop next to Harry. They both got a grip on the package and tore it open. It was a plain, brown box. Harry groaned and pulled it open. A large, folded sheet of parchment was overtop a thick book – a letter was on top of both. He handed the book and parchment to Neville and tore the letter open.
To Neville and Harry,
We, the Marauders four, grant our heirs with two items and a charge.
You are to succeed at the instructions in the tome in your hands;
And use the parchment we bestow you for it's noble purpose and your own ends.
We solemnly swear we are up to no good.
The Marauders;
Moony, Brownclaw, Padfoot, and Prongs
Neville stared at Harry, and then shifted the paper off the book. He burst into laughter and grinned brightly. "'The Auror's Guide to Animal Camouflage'; Harry, I can't believe they gave this to us! Of all things – it's not legal if you're not an auror."
Harry pulled the parchment from Neville, "I'm not surprised in the least. What surprises me, is this…" Harry tapped the parchment with his wand and murmured, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Black ink bled out from the parchment, and Harry smiled as it carved a detailed plaque across the front of the page facing him. The words that arced across the top were completely familiar
Messrs Moony, Brownclaw, Padfoot, and Prongs
(With the aid of their better halves)
Purveyors of aid to Magical Mischief-Makers
Are proud to present,
THE MARAUDERS MAP
Version Two
Neville shook his head slowly, "Why'd they give this to us? I mean, I knew they were remaking it, but why us?"
Harry shrugged. He didn't want to give the answer that first came to mind. This … made him think his parents were a little worried, and wanted him to be safe. "I think they just got tired of seeing 'Wormtail' on it." He flipped it open and suddenly smiled, "Look, this is really nice!"
The writing was crisp, neat, and precise – Harry recognized it as Lily's. The dots had been altered to little footsteps, and the entirety of Hogwarts was clear and detailed – which meant they must have gotten Dumbledore's permission for it: The Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff dorms were all in perfect clarity. Down in Slytherin, however, Harry could see that while Zabini and Nott were both present in their dorm, Alan wasn't with them.
"Huh. Prince isn't in his dorm. I wonder if he's with his father."
"Can you find dear Severus Snape on there?" Neville asked absently; he'd already started reading the introduction to the Animagus book.
Harry shrugged, still looking when suddenly the parchment jumped and refolded itself, a section of the revealed space flaring red. A second look picked out a room several doors down from Snape's office: inside were two sets of idle footprints, labelled 'Alan Prince' and 'Severus Snape'.
Neville glanced over and whistled. "Now that is handy. Does this show the grounds, too?"
Harry flipped to another page and showed Neville before shutting the parchment and tapping his wand once more, "Mischief managed."
The parchment tucked itself shut and went blank. Neville shut the book as well and grinned. "Our parents have given us the go-ahead, Harry. We are to become Animagi, with the help of the new-and-improved Marauder's Map. This is amazing."
Harry rolled his eyes. "I knew it was coming. Go back to your own presents. Not all Gryffindors are that obsessed with pranks."
"You're not a Gryffindor," Neville grumbled under his breath. "Anyways, can I see you open mine to you first?"
Harry smiled. "Sure. Accio Neville's gift to me." A small glossy brown package lifted out from under the pile and into his hand. Harry caught it easily and pulled the paper open to the hand-sized box marked 'Cogman's Clockwork'. Predictably, it held a clock but not one to tell time. Harry ran his fingers over the delicate hands that each held a name. They were spread out at the moment, with his parents' names, his sister, Neville and his parents, and Remus and Sirius as well. In place of the numbers were locations and states, like 'work' 'school' 'home' and 'mortal peril'.
"Thanks Neville." Harry said, running his finger over the hands. He wished there was another hand on it – he wanted to add Alan too.
"I can turn it on for you." Neville offered. "And you can add more names – up to ten or twelve, I think. I was pretty sure you'd want those names, though. I think my parents got me one, too, but I'd have to go find it. I hope you like it."
Harry touched the clock face gently and smiled back up at him. "I love it, Neville." He laughed, "Now my gift to you feels stupid."
Neville laughed again. "Don't bother; this was my second idea. The first was to get you a Quidditch hat, but when my parents went in there to check out the clocks – they want one for our house – the idea just jumped me. Once you know the next names you want on, I can show you how to do it."
Harry nodded slowly as he eyed the hands. He wouldn't be adding Alan for a while yet. The other boys had woken up, though, and Harry wasn't wanting to continue the conversation. Neville returned to his own bed – he found out his parents had gotten a clock for him, too – and Harry still had a number of presents to go through.
Hermione had gotten him a book on Potions; Ron, a bag of dungbombs; Hagrid had sent sweets; Remus, chocolate; Sirius had given him a penknife to open any lock and untie any knot. Harry had to wonder just how much trouble his family wanted him to get into this year. Maybe Dumbledore should've told them he wasn't allowed to pick fights with Alan anymore.
Then again, his parents might just tell him to go after Malfoy – which wasn't such a bad idea…
His parents had split on his gifts again this year. From his mother, he got a warm navy wool cloak with a platinum serpent clasp in the infinity symbol, carved with great detail down to the scales and golden eyes. His father had gotten him a set of Quidditch pads, gloves, and a golden Snitch of his own. Nanna had been practicing her knitting again – she'd been doing it for nearly four years now – and gave him a pair of red and green gloves with runes around the cuffs she must have had their mother help with.
What was it with his sister and red and green? She'd never been that into Christmas spirit before he started school…
IIII
Lunch was delightful, filling, and nearly too heavy – but since Harry was almost immediately dragged outside with most of the rest of the students, it was nice to romp in the snow with a warm, full belly. It surprised everyone when Hermione left at five o'clock; even more surprisingly to find that so had the rest of the girls. Harry sent Neville a wide-eyed look, but someone hit him with a snowball and he put it from his mind.
The match continued until one hour to, and Harry and Neville hauled Ron out of the snowman his brothers had been building around him so they could all get changed. They laughed until they came through the door, fished their way through the chatting, brightly-dressed girls who were actually done, and slipped upstairs to fish out their own robes.
Harry put his on with a silent kind of reverence. He'd had them for two years and never worn them, though he'd been looking forward to it. He'd thought it would simply be a Ministry function; instead, he was going to be in front of most of the entire school. The stripes he knew were across the back were barely visible from the front; green embroidery, so small it was almost invisible, picked its way over his shoulders and collar and around the seams at the hemline and sleeves. He hesitated only a moment before adding his serpent pendant as well.
For almost any other occasion, he'd have felt overdressed; standing in the dorm with his friends, he certainly did. Seamus and Dean looked his way and gaped a moment.
"Awesome, Harry!" Seamus called. "Man, those are amazing!"
Harry turned so they couldn't see him blush; he caught Neville's eye and almost wanted to walk out right then, but he felt he owed Ron to take a look at how he looked in his robes. Neville's were fine: the gold cat on the front lapel was stark against the burgundy fabric that just looked great on him. Ron, however…
"That's really nice, Ron." Harry smiled honestly. "Really." He tried not to feel jealous: Ron's robes had an odd high collar that made him look even taller than he already was. He'd been trying to ignore that all his friends were going up like weeds and he wasn't. Ron sent him a betrayed look, and Harry added his last shot, "You look really Gryffindor."
Ron threw his hands in the air in disgust. "Fine! They look fine!" He moved to storm out, but Neville threw a hairbrush at him. Harry shot him a glare.
"I'd throw you yours," Neville grinned, "but I don't think it'd do any good."
Neville's hair was laying neat and tidy on his head. Harry ran one hand after the other through his own and hoped it looked deliberate now instead of just plain messy.
"And so we have everyone's favourite… Gryffindor." Neville grinned.
Harry glared at him, "You're looking good too, Nev."
Neville shuddered and waved his hand in apology. He disliked 'Nev' as much as Harry hated 'Prongslet'.
"Ron, are you ready?" Harry called, "We can go pick up our dates together and Neville can trail us until he's got to split off for Ravenclaw."
"I agreed to meet Padma in the Entrance Hall." Neville cut in. "I'll see you down there. Sure you don't want to wait and stare at the girls as they come down?"
Harry shook his head, and then nodded to Dean and Seamus who were still figuring out their dress robes, before leading the way out of the dorm, Ron following him reluctantly.
The common room was packed full now, and it looked like a sea of colour with everyone out of their generic black robes. Ginny came down shortly after they entered, and squealed happily as they came upon each other. Harry was surprised to see her in very nice cream dress robes with a simple, wide border a shade darker than the robes themselves. Harry sent her a bright smile and a nod, and she joined them at the door.
"It's good to see you; you look gorgeous, Harry!" She blushed as soon as she said it, but forced herself to keep walking. Harry flushed as well, but managed not to stammer.
"Thank you. Your robes are beautiful on you, too. Who's your date?" Harry asked casually. Ron had tried to get it out of her and Hermione many times before, but both had evaded the question. This time, however, he caught her off balance. She flushed, giggled weakly, and leaned over to whisper."
"Prince talked Blaise Zabini into asking me. I said yes." She fell back onto her heels and laughed again, "I'm meeting him in the Entrance Hall. I was so shocked; I never would have guessed, but he was really polite. I think it will be fun."
Harry kept his surprise hidden, and he gave her an honest smile. "I'm glad you got asked. I hope you enjoy it. You continue on with Neville, okay? I'm going to take Ron down a secret passage to the Hufflepuff commons for our dates."
Ginny laughed awkwardly again and waved them off. "Go right ahead, Harry! I'll see you there."
Harry heard Neville start chuckling as well, and then they were behind a tapestry and on their way down several spiralling flights of stairs, coming out just beyond the Hufflepuff common room on the end towards the kitchen portrait. It was only a short jaunt around the next left corner and they were at the doorway to the Hufflepuff commons. They waited outside for the door to open; when a younger student poked his head out and say them, he yelped,
"Hannah! Susan! Your dates are here!"
Ron swallowed nervously beside him, and Harry felt glad he avoided doing the same. He'd danced with her so many times before; he could do this. When the two girls stepped out, Harry came forward automatically, inwardly marvelling at just how much hair Susan's ever-present braid had been hiding. It cascaded down her back from a tie behind her shoulders, going so far he had to wonder if she would sit on it at the meal. Once he got his attention back to her robes, he smiled.
"Your robes are gorgeous, Susan."
She blushed and fingered the tan material self-consciously. "Yours cost more than mind did."
Harry shook his head. "I'm not talking money; I'm talking about how good it looks on you, especially against your hair."
She shot him a wry smile. "Stop tossing the compliments about like that, or I'll think you're buttering me up for my aunt's sake."
Harry innocently raised his eyebrows and plucked at her pale green shawl. "Me? Flattery? Ron, Susan accused me of flattery."
Ron took a moment to pull his gaze from Hannah's form that was showing curves Harry had never suspected she had. It seemed Ron hadn't thought she would either, but once he got his eyes away, he turned to Susan and grinned. "It's not flattery if he tells you you're gorgeous, Susan." He immediately returned his attention to his own date, bowing to offer her his arm. "But you won't hold half the attention Hannah does."
Harry shared a look with Susan and they both stifled their snickers, Susan with one hand over her mouth. Harry solemnly offered her his arm in turn, and she accepted, her composure returning almost immediately. He shot her a wink as they trailed behind Ron and Hannah. He tilted his head to whisper, "Well, he's got good recovery there."
Susan started giggling again, and Harry straightened to appreciate the picture she made. He'd never really thought about the fact that Susan would make a really cute date. Actually, he'd never really thought of her as cute before. He must not have been paying attention.
It wasn't a long walk from the Hufflepuff common room to the Entrance Hall, and when they arrived it was packed. Harry turned and struggled his way through, homing in on Neville through long-acquaintance and something of a sixth sense about it – and a little help from the modified Point Me charm he'd asked Alan about shortly before the Tournament started. He'd already met up with his date. Padma Patil didn't look bad in her turquoise robes, but the greedy look on face as she stood clinging to Neville's arm was unpleasant. Harry made a note to tell Neville to ask Su Li out next time he was short-listed for a date. Anything was better than putting up with the Patils. Su would understand.
Parvati was standing nearby and frowning at her sister. Plainly Zacharias Smith wasn't half the catch Neville Longbottom was. When Neville caught sight of them approaching, he forced a smile again.
"Hey, you got your dates. Hannah, Susan. You look very nice."
Hannah blushed again, and Susan laughed. "Not as nice as you and Harry. You two are absolutely amazing; those robes are gorgeous." She put a hand to her mouth and corrected, "Handsome. Of course, it's 'handsome' for men." She grinned, teasing them. Neville gave a little bow, his face a little pink.
"Of course it's handsome. How could it not when it's draped over such fine frames as ours?"
Harry rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh again. He was about to respond himself when Parvati snorted. "I can't believe she wore that –that whatever it is. It's not even a robe."
They turned to see what she was criticizing, and Harry felt his mouth drop open. He shut it and bit his lip. He would not laugh at Alan's date. He wouldn't, no matter how… odd it was. After it, it wasn't actually bad – right?
Luna had just come down the stairs from the Ravenclaw dorms, and she was wearing an ankle-length muggle dress under a diaphanous see-through silver robe. The flirty, slim dress was an absolute rainbow of colours – most commonly found in rainbow sherbet. The robe muted the colours, turning them a delicate silver-tone, but it didn't erase the butterbeer-cap necklace, or the crab apples in one ear, and the large strawberry in the other.
Her hair looked nice. The front had been braided into a crown, and it fell behind her in loose, clean blonde waves. She walked down the stairs like she was naturally the centre of attention, her confidence completely unshakable.
"Wow." Harry managed. "That's colourful."
Susan gave a nervous little giggle just before McGonagall spoke up,
"Champions, please come over here."
The crowd parted to let Luna find her way through, and once she was there Harry caught a mere glimpse of black hair against black clothes before the view closed once more. There was a bit more shuffling, and then the doors to the Great Hall were opened.
A/N: Hey, look, I'm on time! Wheee!
Yay for school allowing me to remember what day of the week it is.
Fire & Napalm