Finally, here I am with the update. This is a very short chapter, I'm aware, but I've been struggling with it for long enough. I expected the Yule Ball to take up more words. It didn't.

This hasn't been beta-read, so I apologise for any mistakes. I tried to keep them to a minimum.


Chapter 43: The Yule Ball

The arrival of the holidays was a strange affair this year. Very few people, including those amongst the first three years of students, left for home, as everybody seemed too eager to be present for any potential development in the tournament, even if the only event scheduled for it was the Yule Ball.

As far as Harry was concerned, that was a problem.

Last year he'd had the entire Gryffindor Tower to himself, and had been able to spend time with Marco in it, but now the dorms and the common room were as packed as they were during the rest of the year.

The only good thing to come out of the start of the holidays was a short letter from Sirius, in which he congratulated Harry for his success on the first task and reminded him to stay alert for whoever had put his name in the goblet. Sirius' main suspect was Karkaroff.

On Christmas Day, Harry did the unthinkable and set a silent spell alarm at an awfully early hour in the morning, shortly after the time he knew the house elves left the presents at the bottom of the beds. He slid out of bed, poked Ron awake with only minimal grumbling on Ron's part, and they bundled up their presents in their clothes for today before tiptoeing out of the fourth year boys' dorm. Hermione and Ginny were already waiting at the common room, dressed in their own pyjamas and carrying their presents —nobody had protested Harry's claim that opening presents didn't feel the same if you had already changed clothes. They had to wait five minutes for Fred and George, who were snickering suspiciously by the time they walked down the stairs, before they left the common room.

They had agreed to meet with Marco in an abandoned classroom in the sixth floor, away from any of the more commonly used areas of the castle, where they had stashed a very large amount of food and random trinkets for a small Christmas breakfast party.

The plan was to stay in there until they had to go change for the ball. Even Ginny, who had been asked out by Neville, would be going. The only one who wasn't very excited about the ball was Ron. Fred and George had sworn that they would never let him forget he hadn't been able to find a partner and he had to go dressed in the horrid frilly dress robes. Marco had confided in Harry he had gotten his hands on a magical camera for the occasion, and offered to lend it to whoever wanted to take pictures for future blackmail.

Halfway through their impromptu party, Dobby showed up with a pair of horrid knit socks for Harry. Dobby was embarrassed when he realised that he had no presents for anyone else in the room, but Fred stopped a head-banging fit by saying they would all be happy if Dobby brought them some extra cake.

Not even Harry could finish off the amount of food Dobby brought up.


"Isn't that too dark?" Dean Thomas asked when Harry pulled his folded black dress robes out of his trunk. "I'd expect that from Snape."

Seamus snickered from where he was getting dressed, but he was the only one to pay attention. Ron was too busy attempting to cut off the frilly parts of his robe, and Neville looked about ready to pass out from nerves as he buttoned down a set of robes that were a little too large for him —given what Harry knew of Neville's life, he was willing to bet they used to belong to his father.

"Not really," Harry said, and unfolded the robe to show the purple and white flames at the cuffs and bottom that had cost him a mightily unimpressed look from Madam Malkin and a letter the second day of term asking if he was certain about his robe's design.

Dean blinked, then he shook his head.

"McGonagall's going to kill you."

"You're wearing your belt too?" Seamus asked, still amused.

Harry was too used to comments about his accessories to be offended by them. He knew neither Seamus nor Dean meant them in an offensive way; it was just that they were both too amused by Harry's obstinacy and the staff's general frustration, mainly over his belt and tie.

"No, not today."

"Who are you going with?" Neville, who was putting on a remarkable effort to relax, asked.

"Luna Lovegood."

There was silence at that. Seamus and Dean looked surprised, and Harry had the sudden certainty that they would have said something despairing about Luna if Harry hadn't already cursed three people for saying things they shouldn't about her. Harry glared in warning at them for good measure and focused on adjusting his robes properly.

"Oh, bloody hell…" Ron muttered.

He had cut off his cuffs too clumsily and now there were loose threads hanging where the frills had been.

Harry reached for the camera and snapped a picture.


They reached the Entrance Hall fifteen minutes before eight o'clock. Harry, like many others who went to the ball with people from other houses, had agreed to meet Luna there, and he started to shove his way through the crowd, followed by a still sulking Ron. They hadn't found Hermione at the common room.

"Uhhh, Harry?" Ron said, drawing his attention. "I think she's over there." He pointed at an area near to the closed Great Hall doors, where Luna was indeed waiting.

She was dressed in obviously enchanted spangled green and golden robes that shimmered far more than average sequins did, and was wearing eye-catching star-shaped earrings that flashed from green to red, then to gold, silver and back to green.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

Harry rolled his eyes and didn't bother to answer. Ron didn't like Luna, that much was obvious. Ron had bought in on the damn rumours and stories about her, and Harry didn't have the time or inclination for an argument. Besides, he knew Ron was in a bad mood due to the mix of not having a partner and being forced to wear those ugly robes.

Harry walked over to Luna, and wasn't too surprised when Ron didn't follow him.

"Hi, Luna. Nice robes," he greeted her.

"Oh, yours are very nice too," she said, looking at the flames on Harry's right arm.

"Thanks. How are you at dancing?" he asked, and valiantly suppressed a grimace. He knew how to dance, but he doubted that was the style expected of a champion for this occasion. He would be playing by ear here. He may have willingly ignored the fact that he had to dance until an hour ago.

"I don't like it very much," Luna said.

"First dance and we sit down then?" Harry offered, relieved. He'd much rather spend the night talking and trying to track down the spiked punches.

McGonagall's voice cut through the conversations in the Entrance Hall.

"Champions over here, please!" she called out.

Harry offered Luna his arm —he knew this much at least— and walked over to where McGonagall was waiting. The champions had to go in last, once everyone else was sitting down.

Harry looked around as people started to walk in and the other champions arrived. Fleur Delacour was accompanied by Roger Davies, the captain of the Ravenclaw quidditch team (Harry wondered how many bragging rights this date would give Davies), Cedric Diggory had brought Cho Chang with him and Victor Krum… Krum was accompanied by Hermione.

Harry blinked.

Yep, that's Hermione.

Hermione grinned widely at him.

"Hi, Harry! Hi, Luna!" she greeted in a very cheerful way.

A group of fourth year Gryffindors that had been passing right then halted, turned surprised eyes on Hermione, and rushed in before McGonagall could glare at them.

Harry wondered how long it would take for everyone to know Hermione's mysterious date was Viktor Krum.

"Hey, Hermione!" Harry greeted back with a grin of his own.

It was then that Ron stalked by them without so much as looking in Hermione's direction.

Oh, fucking shit, thought Harry, and he barely managed to repress an eye roll.


The dance wasn't awful. Harry didn't trip over Luna's feet, Luna didn't step on Harry's and they managed to finish without becoming the school's laughing stock.

Harry was glad when it was over.

The champions and their partners had to sit at the head table with the judges. Most of them, anyway, because Crouch's seat was occupied by none other than Percy Weasley.

"Oh, shit," Harry muttered as they approached the table.

"Is something wrong?" Luna asked.

"Percy is boring," Harry warned her under his breath. "Very boring." Unfortunately, the table wasn't large enough to avoid him altogether.

As they approached the table, Harry saw Percy move to draw the seat next to him and, fearing what would come next, turned his head and steered Luna to the other end of the table. Pretending he hadn't noticed Percy's gesture at all would be the least painful course of action. Roger Davies was the one stuck sitting next to Percy in the end.

Instead of the usual spread of food, the plates on the table were empty and small menus awaited before each seat. Dumbledore demonstrated how to request one's food by picking up his menu, checking the contents, and issuing his request to the plate in front of him.

Harry frowned. Only one dish wouldn't do at all. He looked down at the menu, then at his plate, and decided to try something.

"I want one of each," he told the plate, much to the puzzlement of some people around him.

Obligingly, the house elves sent more plates over to Harry's table, and a serving of each available option appeared.

"That's a lot of food," Luna said, but she was picking up one of Harry's plates to move it closer to him. Between the two of them, they arranged the plates in a semi-circle around their spot at the table. Harry very pointedly ignored Fleur Delacour's wrinkled nose and the flash that came from the camera man sitting next to Rita Skeeter across the table.

"Want to try them?" Harry offered Luna, gesturing at a weird soup he had never seen before.

"Oh, sure," she said, picking up her spoon. She hadn't asked for her own meal yet, and instead began serving herself from Harry's spread.

Wings rustled and a weight settled on the back of Harry's chair. He turned around, unsurprised to find Marco perched there.

"Oh, hello," Luna greeted Marco cheerfully. "Do you want some?" she offered, gesturing to her own plate, and Marco nodded.

A new set of cutlery appeared between Harry and Luna, and Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It figured the elves would spoil Marco so much.

Harry and Luna spent their meal ignoring the people and conversations around them, trying the different foods that had come up and giving Marco whatever he asked for. Harry asked for a second serving of nearly everything.

Eventually, when little food remained around the Great Hall, Dumbledore stood up and asked everyone else to do the same. The remaining food disappeared and Dumbledore sent all the tables to settle along the walls, leaving a wide space of floor for what Harry suspected was more dancing. After that, Dumbledore summoned a raised platform along the right wall of the Great Hall, where an assortment of instruments appeared.

The Weird Sisters, a very popular music band, entered the Great Hall then, and the crowd went crazy.

Harry looked down at Luna, who shook her head at the sight of the band.

"Want to go find some drinks before Fred and George spike them all?" Harry asked, offering his hand to Luna.

"They're spiking them? That sounds fun," she said, accepting Harry's hand and following him to weave around the enthusiastic crowd of dancers.


When Harry saw Hermione approach the table where Ron was sulking, he decided to head over there, just in case.

"You want to wait somewhere else? This could get ugly," he told Luna as they dodged between two couples, unspiked butterbeers in hand.

"No, it's fine," she said. "He's not very nice, is he?" Luna asked, clearly meaning Ron, and Harry had to grimace in agreement. Ron had been a bit of an ass to Luna the few times they had spoken, and his attitude tonight wasn't doing anything to earn him points.

Harry came in hearing range of the table just in time to hear Ron ask a very unfortunate question.

"Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

"What's up with you?" Hermione asked, confusion clear in her voice.

"If you don't know," Ron said, voice harsh, "I'm not going to tell you."

"What are you going on about, Ron?" Harry asked, dropping down on the chair next to Hermione. Luna settled next to Harry.

"Krum!" Ron exclaimed, saying the name as though it ought to explain everything.

"What about him?" Harry asked again. He feared he already knew what Ron would say, but he hoped to be wrong.

"He's from Durmstrang!" Ron spat, proving Harry's fears right. Ron opened his mouth, no doubt with a tirade ready.

"Ron," Harry hissed, and brought him short. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it."

"But, Harry—" Ron began.

Harry cut him off again.

"No. You're being an ass. Go take a walk or something if you can't be a good friend now."

Ron looked stricken, but he didn't argue. With an annoyed expression, fortunately not a furious one, he pushed his chair back, stood up, and walked away.

There was a short and awkward pause following Ron's departure.

"What's his problem?" Hermione asked Harry, as confused as she had been when he'd arrived.

Harry repressed a grimace. Now that was a difficult question. He could tell Hermione the truth, what he had seen developing so slowly that he doubted even Ron was aware of it, or he could pretend that he didn't know. The second option opened the possibility for even more uncomfortable situations than the first one.

"He's jealous," said Luna, before Harry had made his mind up.

Hermione snorted.

"I doubt that," she said dismissively.

"No, she's right," Harry told her, and Hermione turned an incredulous look on him. "I doubt Ron's even realised it yet, but he has a crush on you. He's been sulking all night, and he refused to look at you at all until now."

"Oh, come on, Harry, that's impossible," Hermione said, though not as dismissively this time. "Ron doesn't like me that way. He's been bugging me about my dance partner for weeks and he was fine."

"Yeah, but then you showed up with Viktor Krum," Harry said. "Don't you see it, Hermione? Some random Gryffindor younger year he could've handled —he probably thought you'd agreed to bring a younger year or something like that so they could come to the party. But Krum's his idol. Ron doesn't stand a chance against him, and he knows it."

Hermione frowned, but the conversation was stalled by the arrival of Viktor Krum with drinks for both himself and Hermione.


Fred and George snuck out of the party as soon as they could shake Percy off. Their attempt at speaking with Ludo Bagman had been a disaster, as they'd feared, and Percy had made things worse by tracking them down to scold them for bothering 'respectable Ministry employees'. George had wanted to curse him.

"What now?" George asked, leaning against the wall of the hidden passage they'd settled into.

"I think we should talk to Marco," Fred said. "He said blackmailing Bagman would be difficult, and we can't go out to investigate him all that much…"

George frowned. He wasn't particularly fond of the idea of doing something like blackmail, but he liked the idea of letting Bagman get away with stealing their money even less.

It was clear by now that Bagman had no intention of returning them the money willingly, much less pay what he owed them from their bet during the World Cup.


Harry was the first one to make it back to the Gryffindor Fourth Year boys' dorm, or so he thought until he found Ron sitting on his bed, eyes downcast and fiddling with his hands.

"You done being an idiot?" Harry asked, trying to stay good natured. The night had been fun enough —Skeeter hadn't bothered him and Krum had even agreed to race Harry when the weather got better— and he didn't want to ruin his mood.

Ron sighed.

"Was I that bad?" he asked, almost absentmindedly.

"I could've punched you," Harry told him honestly, and walked over to stand by his own bed. "You'd better apologise to Hermione. Honestly."

Ron nodded. He was still looking at his hands.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked him.

"Did you know that Hagrid is a half-giant?"

"No," Harry replied. He began to unbutton his robes. "Why?"

"I overheard him talking about it to Madame Maxime earlier. He said she's a half-giant too —and she's got to be, just look at her— but she said she wasn't and they argued." Ron frowned. "It's just… I know Hagrid is nice and all that, but giants have a pretty bad reputation."

"So?"

Ron shook his head.

"Nothing, I guess. Maxime won't tell anyone, it'd be dumb of her."


Hermione forgave Ron. She made it clear, though, that she wouldn't forgive that behaviour a second time, and Ron nodded quickly and assured her he'd do his best to check his temper from now on. Harry really hoped Ron would hold to that promise; he didn't want a repeat performance of what had happened earlier in the school year.

Boxing Day was spent in a sort of haze by most of the students, who no doubt were nursing hangovers they had prepared no magical remedies for. Hermione said she had already figured out that Hagrid was a half-giant when Ron told her about the conversation he'd overheard, and Marco confirmed it, saying Hagrid's condition as a half-giant had contributed a lot to his being expelled after Tom Riddle framed him for the basilisk's attacks when he'd opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago.

Hermione had spent the next ten minutes giving a very passionate speech about wizarding prejudice to the mostly-empty deck of the fake Moby Dick.

Ginny spent curled up in a hammock, feeling utterly miserable, and she swore painful vengeance on Fred and George as soon as the world stopped playing tricks on her. Fred and George who, surprisingly enough, had been the first ones to make it to the Room of Requirement today and who had been talking to Marco when Harry had arrived.

That afternoon, the panic over the holidays' abandoned homework began. Even Hermione had neglected it in favour of her preparations for the Yule Ball, and she had rushed off to the library after lunch to find all the books she would need before they were gone. Ron, in an act of contrition, had offered to accompany her.

Marco left the school that afternoon, saying he wanted to make an appearance at Diagon Alley and listen in for some useful information, which left Harry to wander around the hallways because he refused to participate in the hushed war that no doubt was taking place in the library right now. There were only so many copies of each book in there, after all, and hundreds of procrastinating students in need of them.

Ten minutes after he'd walked out of the Great Hall, Harry realised he was being followed.

He pretended he hadn't noticed and continued wandering the halls, deliberately heading for a hallway free of portraits. When he turned the corner, he rushed to hide behind one of the armours lining the wall, drew his wand, and waited for the person following him to turn the corner as well. Three steps in, Harry stepped out of his hiding place with his wand raised at chest level.

Cedric Diggory blinked in shock.

So did Harry, but he kept his wand up.

"Diggory?" he asked, surprise clear in his voice.

Diggory raised his hands, an incredulous look on his face.

"I'm not here to fight," Diggory said, his voice hesitant, and Harry belatedly realised that even the students who hated each other rarely drew their wands to attack.

He lowered his wand.

"Then? You were following me."

"Yeah. I… I wanted to talk to you. Alone." Diggory hesitated, and Harry waited him out until Diggory leant closer to him and spoke in a lower voice. "I owe you one for telling me about the dragons. You know that golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, grimacing at the memory of the horrible noise the thing made.

"Well... take a bath, okay?"

"Huh?" Harry blinked, taken aback.

"Take a bath, and… er… take the egg with you, and… just mull things over in the hot water. It'll help you think… Trust me."

Harry stared, trying to puzzle out what he meant. The egg responded differently to water? Damn Marco could've said something.

"Tell you what," Cedric continued, "use the prefects' bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's 'pine fresh.'"

Harry nodded, aware that Diggory was breaking not only the tournament rules but also a few school rules here.

"Okay. Thanks, Cedric."

To be continued


Before anyone says anything, I'm not bashing Ron here. I don't remember how the movie went (haven't seen it since it came out), but in the book he was a real pig to Hermione over the whole Krum thing. The difference here is that Harry doesn't stay silent, the way he did in canon. I was actually quite eager to get to this part, because it gives me the chance of having Ron face some of his flaws and start growing up. Also, when Luna says that Ron isn't very nice? That's an actual quote from canon, only that she says it in book 5.

The ball turned out pretty short in the end. Rereading the book, I realised the ball itself was mainly Percy talking about how important he is and how wonderful Crouch is, and the part with Ron. There isn't much more to it, Ron and Harry go off after Ron's fight with Hermione and overhear first Karkaroff and Snape talking about "something" (the Mark) and then Hagrid's conversation with Madame Maxime. Here, Ron went off and overheard the two things (he forgot about the first because of the second), while Harry and Luna stayed and talked a while to Hermione and Krum before Hermione and Krum went off to dance. Harry and Luna spent the rest of the time making weird combinations with the drinks and trying them, much to the puzzlement of those who saw them. They successfully managed to avoid Percy, who lost interest in approaching them when he realised Harry's date was that Ravenclaw weirdo, Luna Lovegood. Fortunately for his face, he didn't say anything within Harry's hearing range.

Remember that I have a writing tumblr: maisstories dot tumblr dot com, if you want to check on how updates and such are going. I answer questions over there, and ramble quite a lot.