Yule Ball
Glenda Matirni paced. Tom Riddle was late. Well technically he wasn't late for another seven minutes, but she'd gone out of her way to start early so that she wouldn't make him late, since champions had to be there early.
At least she had one thing she didn't need to worry about. Harriet assured her that among his other dubious charms, he could at least dance. And whenever they tired of that they could discuss politics. Though perhaps they could do both at once. It would be interesting to see if she could dance and observe the others, and deduce things about them and comment on it or decode and understand his comments while still maintaining her steps.
Or if he could. She snorted at the thought of making a witty comment and him getting tripped up. She cast the imperturbable, and several similar things on her shoes and the hem of her dress.
She turned around, a little foreign gentleman stood there, not Tom. Too small and the understated curls were completely out of place.
"Moit, what are you wearing?"
"Anoushka insisted," said Moit, "She promised me that you would not disapprove."
"I … if she meant is it not improperly revealing then that is true, but no more than I would expect for winter clothes. If she meant that I know enough to understand the social signals it sends, I'm sure I don't know. The buttons coming down from your shoulder instead of your chin amuse me."
"They amuse me too," said Moit, "But there doesn't seem to be any reason for or against them. My guess is that they evolved from a double breasted suit style, or from it being uncomfortable to have buttons in the centre while wearing armour or something."
"Hmm," said Glenda. "How much of that comes off when you've danced enough to warm up?"
"Just this jacket," said Moit, "Like so."
"Hmm, Yes, that is fine."
"Can you hold up that bit so I can get it back on."
"Certainly." said Glenda, "So the proverb 'the prettier the clothes, the less practical,' is true the world over?"
Moit nodded, and looked smug. "It's amusingly delightful to wear something that fits again, I'm not used it because the school uniform robes don't really, um, I don't know what the word is… Anyways, about the social thing, I think the Russians are very proud of their heritage of being strong and also of being progressive and not having any aristocracy or capitol anymore."
"As long as it means proper citizen responsibility things and not anything revolutionary that will get Harriet's precious Lord Potter in trouble, I don't think anyone will care."
Moit grinned, "I hope that I'm young enough that if I accidentally act the black sheep once or twice no one will panic."
"It's fine with me regardless," said Glenda, "I've had enough of the local aristocracy to last my entire life."
Moit gave her a wry smile and shrugged.
"How do you feel about it?"
"There were several moments when they were giving it to me and trying to make it the right size that I was very annoyed that I couldn't understand them when they talked over my head. And they got me a bit nervous a couple times that one of them was going to come and insist on watching me or helping me change faster, but they never did."
"Ah," said Glenda, "I'm sure that could have been even more excruciating than normal clothes shopping."
Moit nodded, "but I'm kind of proud of the results actually."
Glenda nodded, "If Tom doesn't show up soon, I'd be tempted to take you instead."
Moit chuckled at the complement that it was, and seemed to understand that she was not actually suggesting that they both break promises.
.
A furry figure blew in and clattered to the floor under the little landing awning that they'd made in front of the tent entrance so that less snow would get tracked in. She opened the door and saw Moit,
"'Ello Lisjonok, can you ride a broom? I am afraid my stupka i pestik, err … mortar and pestle, I left them at home."
"Yes, I can ride," said Moit, "Your broom or mine?"
"Silly, Mine," said the girl, "be climbing on."
Moit went outside, and they began mounting up. Glenda followed them as far as the door.
"What does Lisyonok mean?"
"Means young fox."
As they left Tom arrived, on a magic carpet big enough for two and held his hand out to her.
"Where did you get this?" said Glenda stepping aboard.
Tom grinned, "I rented it for the occasion."
"You know I learned to ride a broom on this very field? I'm fairly proficient."
"Yes," said Tom, "I've seen you fly. But I didn't see losing the chance to learn how to ride a carpet the one time when the British government is looking as accommodatingly as it can the other direction."
"Of course," said Glenda.
.
"Actually," said Glenda as they stepped off, "The way you ride it, it is several orders of magnitude more dignified. Why are these illegal, I'd think that the hoighty-toighty Wizengamot lords would love to have them."
"You'd think," said Tom, "I believe that we don't have magic carpets because the local broom lobby has been too strong at several strategic points in the past. Also we were travelling slowly over a short distance, with our carpet fully visible. Managing a flying carpet becomes unexpectedly dangerous when both the carpet and the pilot are invisible. Brooms balance as a single solid piece, and the outside of sports the hands and feet are usually kept in place for the entire ride. Therefore less danger of flipping yourself off the side as you try to steer if you forget where you left the edge.
"Ah, I can imagine that," said Glenda.
:::
Harry landed on the stage in front of the cable car and knocked. The guard let him in and asked his business, "I am here to meet Kisa."
"Who should I tell her wants to see her?"
"Harry Potter," said Harry.
"Alright," he said and sent a silvery spell up through the floor.
"Was that a patronus?" said Harry, "It didn't look like a patronus, but if the colour was right and if it can carry messages..."
"How well do you know the patronus?"
"I first cast a corporeal patronus in my first year," said Harry, "A stag. Though usually I only get a 12 ft shield."
"What shape?"
"Sphere," said Harry, "or very close to it."
"Not some large round animal?"
"I don't think so," said Harry, wrestling with intense deja vu, someone might have suggested that before.
"Alright, never mind," he said, "It's called the … the postal memory charm, it's silver because it is memory based, and it delivers any memory, not a verbal message, which must somehow also be good news or an important protective warning, which is all I've heard the patronus can do."
"Ah, I see," said Harry.
Kisa appeared from the stairs.
"It seems I must reprimand my cousin," said Harry.
"About what?" said Kisa.
"Her words did not do justice to your beauty."
The guard snorted.
"You probably say that to all the girls," Kisa led him back outside.
"I've never said it to anyone before," said Harry.
"You are trying to pull the other leg, yes?" said Kisa.
"Does your leg need pulling?" said Harry with a concerned expression, "That sounds like the sort of exercise I'd need to get permission from Luna before attempting. And anyway Harriet is the one getting healer training. Can you really handle dancing tonight?"
"What? There's nothing wrong with me!"
"Oh good. Anyway, I am here," said Harry, "Because Luna chose to share me with you."
When they were both in the air but close enough to speak above the winter wind, she said, "I think," said Kisa, "you need to explain who Luna is to you, and who Harriet is to you, and if there is anyone else I might should fear being jealous of me."
"Luna is my betrothed and moral advisor, Harriet is my cousin and my agent and business advisor."
"They are your harem?" said Kisa, "do you expect I will also try to follow you around?"
"No, you are confused, I and Harriet are Luna's harem, Luna … is not trying to recruit you into her harem, she merely saw a danger, that she did not try very hard to get me to comprehend, perhaps from one of your professors, or just from rumours or something, she wished to extend to you the protection she had to give. So she offered me (and my name) to escort you around tonight."
"You, and your name…" said Kisa, "You are full of yourself."
"No. I am very aware of myself and the British political environment, If I were full of myself, I would not spend nearly so much time away, where people don't know me. And wearing a face that people don't associate with my name."
"You can change your face like Harriet."
"She didn't tell you that?"
"She might have."
"Can you change more than that?"
"More than my face? I can change just about everything except my height."
"Can you be a girl?"
"Yes."
"Can you be a girl, but also have a beard?"
"I think so."
"Can you wear a man's shape everywhere except between your legs?"
"Yes."
"Do that."
"Alright, do you really want me to have a beard?"
"I'm thinking," she said. They landed and shrunk and pocketed their brooms.
"How long a beard can you make?"
"I refuse to make it as long as Dumbledore's."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Um, unless you help me do something to it to keep it from getting in the way, and thereby risk making both of us look the fool when we attempt to dance."
"Ah," she said, "how about just down to your belt."
"How's this."
"Ooh black, can you do white?"
"I can do blond or red."
"No, go back, black is fine. How well can you dance?"
"Quite well, I think, but I don't know what sort of music they will be playing."
"If I tell you that I don't want your hand anywhere on me besides my hands or arms, can you handle that?"
"I think so."
"Can you manage that and still look natural?"
"Maybe," said Harry, "do you want me to just dance the 'girl's' part, since you're the taller of us that might just simplify everything."
"You'd do that?"
"I've done similar things teaching siblings and cousins how to dance."
"Ah," she looked off into space, "But you'd do that in front of most of Europe's seventh year students of defence and international studies?"
"Luna told me to be of service, I think if she thought I shouldn't dance a particular way, she'd have mentioned it."
"You really trust her predictions?"
"They are about five orders of magnitude better than my own predictions," said Harry.
"In that case," said Kisa, "yes on both things, and take my elbow."
"Yes, ma'am."
Kisa led the way. Their heights and postures so correct that many didn't notice that they were posing opposite their own genders until well after they had passed from sight.
.
After three dances they stopped for refreshments, "From the number of people who are glaring at us," said Harry, "I think everyone who cared has lost bets on one or the other of us."
"And some on both of us, I believe."
"What were the things you were shouting to … your school's champion?"
"Anoushka?" said Kisa.
"Is that who my littlest cousin here was dancing with?"
"We were comparing how well the two of you dance."
"Ah," said Harry, "anything I should amend?"
"You can get rid of the beard now."
"All at once, or shrink it away to nothing over the course of the evening?"
Kisa giggled, "yes do that, perhaps three or four inches after every dance."
"Alright," said Harry, "Anything else?"
"Not so much."
"I think I must warn you of something," said Harry.
"What is that?"
"Professor Snape and Tom Riddle each may try to dance with me, if they try, it might be much safer to let them, they shouldn't take more than one dance each."
"Oh," said Kisa, "That sounds odd."
"Also Dietrich, but he seems quite thoroughly busy with his date."
"She is rather small, and seems rather heavier on her feet than Anoushka is light on hers."
"Perhaps."
"Why might they dance with you, they don't seem to be the type to dance with a boy?"
"Some to give me messages to pass to others, if they are doing that sort of intrigue tonight, also because it used to be something of a tradition for me to dance with some of them. But I am getting older, perhaps this year is the last that I should dance this part?"
"If you are part of Luna's harem and not the other way around," said Kisa, "do you let her lead when you dance with her?"
"When I dance with her among my family I usually dance the male part, but she does not need to follow because she can see the future. When I dance in the green behind her house, I always let her lead, because the steps are never the same twice. Except when she tells me to close my eyes and dance as I wish and she will use her sight to keep up, then she leads anyway, they tell me, but I have my eyes closed and cannot tell."
Kisa laughed, "I would like to see that."
"Perhaps you shall," said Harry, "I'll ask Harriet to ask Luna to check if there is an optimal time and place."
"Why not ask her yourself?"
"I am scheduled to leave before the end of holidays when Luna will return."
"Ah, that is too bad. But you say you'll be back?"
"Probably, but I'm not sure when."
"May I write you?"
"Of course, but … your messages will probably get to me faster if you pass them to Harriet."
"Why's that?"
"Mail wards protecting me from fan mail, ever since someone published a sappy novel that I, rather than my mother, defeated a powerful dark wizard when I was 18 months old."
"That was you? No wonder you're full of yourself."
"That's just it, it wasn't me, it was my mother. And I'd rather have her still alive than have the reputation, don't you know."
"I suppose. … So I give my mail to Harriet to deliver to you?"
"Yes, otherwise it will be pawed over by a team of solicitor's apprentices and checked for love potions and whatnot before getting passed to Harriet, and then passed to me. And that's if no one decides it's dangerous or too frivolous or whatever before it gets to me."
"Just like important bureaucrats everywhere?"
"I'm afraid so."
"And you're giving me permission to send mail straight to Harriet?"
"Yes, Presuming you aren't sending me cursed items or love potions."
"Right, of course not. If I wanted to hex you, I'd do it to your face I think."
Harry blinked, then smiled, "I think I prefer that, in some ways. Though I can't imagine what it would do to my sanity if people followed me down the street trying to get a good shot or plying me with love potions."
"Indubitably. (am I saying that right?) Should I be concerned that you're not suggesting I send it straight to Luna?"
"(These days, 'no doubt' is more in vogue.)"
"Ah."
"The rest grows private, should we return to dancing?"
"Alright."
When they were safely twirling seemingly three directions at once and no one could reasonably hear them without a listening charm or by following them all over the floor and probably looking dreadfully obvious attempting it, Harry resumed, "I'm sure that there are things that you should send directly to Luna: Warnings of national emergencies, or suspicions of the same and who's future she should look at to find them. Requests for applications to join her harem, that sort of thing."
Kisa giggled, "And the fact that you put those things in that order? Should that concern me?"
"I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it might give you too much information about how powerful Luna is or how fragile some governments seem to be."
Kisa giggled again, "Harriet told us that Luna lent you to me to keep me from turning into a dark lady."
"Both you and Anoushka."
"I still don't get that, I don't think anything could make Anoushka go dark?"
"Not even losing you?"
Kisa blinked, "Not even that I don't think. I … even if that were possible, I don't need that kind of pressure."
"Sorry," said Harry, "I actually meant … ugh, some people inspire people to change by being better than us, some people try to drive us to change by complaining how much less we are than some ideal that might only exist in their own heads."
"Sure."
"When you don't think too hard about it, it's a lot nicer to be around the former group. And a lot more annoying to be around the latter group. But … perhaps the latter group could give better advice. But often it's only by seeing the ideal lived out by the former group that we can create and maintain the motivation to listen to and learn from the criticism of the latter group."
"Ah, I suppose," said Kisa, "I also want to say something here about whether the later group has the experience to actually offer advice."
"Granted," said Harry, "Where was I going?"
"Spin the other way."
"Right, thanks."
"Anyway, losing you in a innocent way might not change her outlook at all, losing a good friend because of prejudice or targeted violence I think could easily push most people from the former group into the latter group."
"I suppose."
"Could it push her even farther into the other extreme: those people who try to use the law to remove freedom by mandating good behaviour, rather than only to forbid as little as possible such that the maximum amount of bad and risky behaviour is forbidden by the least restrictive laws sufficient to the task, and allow everyone as much freedom as possible to choose which good behaviours they ought to spend their time or effort to manifest."
"You use odd words, but I think I understand," said Kisa, "is this what you mean by dark?"
"Dark Lord or Dark Lady generally means someone who uses the fear and intimidation of their power or people's suspicions of it to rule and oppress, or even just to maintain themselves in control gained through other means."
"Ah," she said.
"Technically, several names from 'dark' to 'light' also describes specific philosophies about whether it is the old families, or the department of mysteries, or the department of education, that should maintain the archives of what magic can and cannot do and how."
"Department of Education?" she muttered, "That sounds dangerously muggle."
"Oh, relax," said Harry, "Admitting that a philosophy exists, and that it has a name is not the same as claiming to believe it."
"Right. Alright," she said.
The music changed and they had to negotiate whether they wished to dance to the next tune. They decided it wasn't one they knew and they would sit out and watch until they were comfortable that they knew how the steps were supposed to go.
"Which meaning of 'dark' was your Luna using when she issued her warning?"
"I understood her to mean the 'removal of freedom, or proclivity to rule by fear and intimidation,' definition,"
"Hmm," said Kisa, "This seems the opposite definition of what some of the Durmstrang students were saying."
"What really?" said Harry.
"Well not the exact opposite," said Kisa, "I'm sure they are all prejudices rather than real pictures of anyone's practical philosophy, but my friend summarised that The English believe freedom of action is the highest good, the French believe equality is the highest good, and the Germans believe order (or freedom from fear or surprise) is the highest good."
"Hmm," said Harry, "I'm not really sure how to compare those. But … Order? Really? How does that work in practice?"
"Well as you said yourself, the difference between 'everything is permitted unless it is forbidden,' compared to 'everything is forbidden unless it is permitted'."
"Hmm," said Harry, "as long as the process for obtaining permits is simple, fast, and rational… I can see the appeal, but it sounds … really tedious."
"And therefore we know that you are English, despite where you go to school."
Harry sniffed, then shrugged, "and how about you? What do you believe?"
"Growth and Safety," she said, "Always it is my duty to learn more skill. Always it is my duty to plan so that no one and nothing is harmed." She shrugged, "Or … more like … only planned expendable supplies are expended. I think is like your blue and yellow houses, but not the same. When I have the skills I want, maybe I will choose to use the skills to help others, and society is benefited by not needing to take as much care of them, maybe I will choose to help myself and society is benefited by not needing to take as much care of me, but … in correct arranged economies, the fastest way to help oneself by helping others, yes?"
"Well, yes, obviously," said Harry.
She nodded, "do you really think order is darkness?"
He frowned, "No, I think 'everything is forbidden except that which is permitted' is the opposite boarder of a rectangle from 'everything is allowed except that which is forbidden' but assuming sane people choose what to permit from one end, or forbid from the other the result should be somewhat similar: And if those laws are enforced with equality, I think the society that emerges has every chance of being light. Dark is when the laws don't protect and let the strong prey on the weak. Or only protect the government and no one else, and no one can learn anything or help anyone."
"Yes," she said, "so dark is not the 'being forced to do or not to do things,' but the fear if one does not comply, and the un-hoping of not permitted to help anyone?"
"Partly, yes," said Harry, "being forced isn't really the dark part, just one of the warning signs."
She nodded.
"Do you think England is a light society?"
"I don't really know. Given what is commonly believed about Azkaban, I don't think it has particularly strong claims to not being dark."
"Hmm," she said.
"Do … does your school really teach the dark arts?"
"You mean, the advanced and dangerous magics?" she said, "Of course we can learn them, but … it is expensive to pay the safety council to review experiment plans, the classes don't come up very often."
"Huh," said Harry, "Interesting."
"If we are going stand instead of dance, we should sit out of the way and eat."
"Sure," said Harry and let her steer him off the dance floor.
He pulled out a chair for her, then looked around for one for himself. She waved her hand imperiously, "Get me a drink and those little sandwiches."
Then she winked.
Harry snorted, "Yes, milady." He stood up again and made his way through the crowd.
.
Tom and Glenda were also sitting out this dance. Glenda … seemed to be examining her boot … no his boot. Some kind of foreign fur lined contraption. It had to be using space expansion to be that shape. Actually she'd somewhat expected him to come in totally conjured or transfigured clothes, it would fit her idea of his sense of thrift. Not that it was impossible that he'd made those himself as an exercise in transfiguring and space expansion.
.
There were seven kinds of sandwiches, and only one flavour that Harry wouldn't eat. Conversely most of the rest of what was served he wouldn't eat, or rather wouldn't try to eat for the first time at a party. He picked up two of everything that could be interpreted as 'those little sandwiches' also coffee and pumpkin juice. They'd already discussed that she didn't drink pumpkin juice, even if it did have properties that boosted magic and learning comprehension. Also it tended to be served cold.
He made his way back only to be pulled aside by Collin Creevey, "Are you Harry Potter? The real one?"
"What do you mean?"
"The original one," said Collin, "not yet another of the little kids with Harry or Potter for middle names, or sometimes first names."
"Oh," said Harry, "Yes, I guess." He contemplated giving his usual spiel about it being Lily Potter who managed the impossible. But he mostly just wanted to get back to his date and put his load of dishes down. He should have conjured a tray.
"Cool, Can I take your picture?"
Harry was surprised he hadn't already snapped several pictures. Was the kid finally maturing enough to approach an understanding of polite behaviour? It might be better to reward that. "Sure, but on two conditions."
"Um, What?"
"One, you let me put this down," said Harry, "two, you stop pestering my cousin Harriet, three I get to pose with my date, and four, you give me a copy also."
"You should have come to school here," grinned Collin, "at least we'd have taught you how to count."
"That's the offer," said Harry, "Take it or leave it."
Collin gave a thoughtful look and glanced around. Perhaps looking for an optimal background to pose them against, and weighing the difficulties of satisfying Harry's demands against the opportunity costs of whatever else he could be photographing right then.
"If you read any of the originals, instead of the amalgamated monstrosity that we have today," Tom was expounding nearby, "Aschenputtel for instance, it is evident that she is a either a muggle born, or similarly despised by her step family, she has to veil her request for a wand, she transfigures everything all the time rather than relying on her godmother, and also seems a master of doggerel verse, and she can speak to birds much too well for any muggle to invent, doubtless her animagus form was a bird. What's less clear is whether her prince is a wizard. Or her original parents." He'd told Harriet several times that he'd almost gone to Ravenclaw, and that he'd once dreamed of being a professor. And now if he he was pulling that out to impress Ann? Ravenclaw wasn't quite what it took to impress Ann, though perhaps if he kept it strictly within plot or literature or political/anthropology… "It's fine," said Collin.
Harry turned and hurried toward where Kisa was waiting, where he spread the results of his foraging before her. All except the pumpkin juice.
When Kisa heard the plan, she hid a grimace but agreed to play along, but only after she was done eating, Collin proposed to go and search out a good backdrop.
Kisa sampled the sandwiches and ate most of them, leaving only three. Harry obligingly ate them when she offered. The diricawl and fire-mint jelly salad wasn't nearly so bad as he normally expected, either he was very hungry or the ministry caterers knew more about the concoction than the house elves.
"You like fire-mint?" she said.
"Not usually," he said, "this is alright though."
"You are like my step cousins. Are you just eating it to impress me?"
"No," said Harry, "I almost didn't pick it up. But I wasn't sure what you wanted, and rather than make two trips, I just got you some of everything. I should have grabbed twice as much, I see."
"I am a big girl," she said, "have to keep my strength up."
"I … should probably apologise for not figuring out sooner why you chose me over Moit."
"I told Harriet right away," said Kisa, "No hiding it. You called me beautiful though, first thing out of your mouth."
Harry smirked, "It was the first thing I saw," he said, "the other things take a bit longer to notice."
"Which other things?"
"Graceful on your feet, also with your eyes and hands and magic."
She raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'tell me more'
He smiled back.
"You usually have an … un-self-conscious attitude about you that makes me think of transfiguration."
"Anoushka says something similar. What does it mean?"
"I don't know what she means by it. How are you at transfiguration?"
She waved her hand dismissively.
"I don't know what that means."
"It is magic, like all the others, you learn what to do, you practice, it gets easy, you forget that it was hard."
"That may be true that some transfiguration is charm based and some is potion based," said Harry, "I meant free transfiguration."
"Is like the rest," she said, "shaping is the interesting one."
"What is shaping?"
She blinked at him, "how many years of transfiguration do you have?"
"This is my fourth year."
"Oh," she said, "I thought you were much older."
"I have to … I am emancipated for political and safety reasons," Harry said, "It is not the same as having OWL or NEWT certifications."
She nodded, then sighed, "Shaping is… when you transfigure…" she frowned and picked up her empty plate and transfigured it into a large piece of parchment.
"What would cutting this into a … snowflake do?"
"You would … the plate would be full of holes and dents when the transfiguration ended. Or might just crumble away."
"Very good," she said, she ended the transfiguration without actually cutting anything. "What if I took a large glass ball and transfigured it into a walking stick."
"Sure," he said.
"What if I started from the outside of the ball at one end of the stick, down to the inside at the other end?"
It would be somewhat more predictable where the missing bits would be when you started taking bits out.
"And then I cut the stick in half and untransfigured both halves."
"You'd have two balls, a small core and a large hollow shell."
"Very good," she said, "is an easy concept, but a difficult art."
"What year do they teach it?"
"It is one of the three concentrations available when we pick out … our equivalent of your NEWT masteries.
"For us NEWTs and masteries are different things," said Harry.
She shrugged, "Never mind, there is Shaping, Animation, and Conjuration. Conjuration concentrates on not needing any base material. Animation concentrates on life processes and mimicking them in the transfigured item. And shaping concentrates on what happens as the object is untransfigured, so that the transfiguration and any changes made to the transfigured object allow for the permanent changes one wishes to make. It is the discipline that can achieve permanent results."
"Hmm," said Harry, "Is the mending spell based on it?"
"Mending is sewing? You're going to say spinning gold into straw? That is transmutation."
"No," said Harry, "I meant 'Reparo,' the spell I'd have expected you to use to put your plate together again after you made a snowflake out of it."
"Ah!" she said, "Yes, I've seen that one, I suspect that at its heart it is a shaping charm. Can you teach it to me?"
"I am not very good at it," said Harry, "Draco Malfoy is who taught it to me, but … I'm not sure where he is today."
"Today might not be the best day to sneak off and practice transfiguration magic," she agreed, "after the dancing everyone would suspect other kinds of sneaking off."
"Ugh," Harry said, "Don't remind me."
She giggled, "You would rather be doing something else?"
"I do like dancing," said Harry, "and I like learning magic."
"And both with pretty girls, I suspect?"
Harry smiled, "it is not about the prettiness of the journey or the company, but about the intention to enjoy the journey, and protect the company."
"And enjoy the company?" she said.
He frowned, "or be enjoyed by and helpful to the company, I hadn't … realised the extent to which I differentiated those two."
"You don't enjoy my company?"
"I do," said Harry, "I don't think I noticed that I do, or adjusted to the idea that it might be possible to … deserve to enjoy the company as much as I always hope to be enjoyable company. Also I remember I promised pictures to Colin Creevey."
"Ah!" she said, "deserve, might be the wrong word, a broken deserve will make you angry, pick something smaller that will let you notice that you enjoy the company, so that you can enjoy that you enjoy it, without making you miserable if you enjoy it less than you hoped."
"Hmm," said Harry, "I shall endeavour to try to learn that."
.
Colin returned and they followed him over to a tapestry to have their picture taken. Colin had picked a Gryffindor banner, of course.
Harry tried to lobby for hufflepuff, but that area of the hall already had a line for pictures. Apparently they had three photographers working round robin to get everyone taken care of. Depending on whether you want your picture taken with your own camera, or your existence documented by the house camera, or something.
Afterwards, when Harry sighed one too many times, Kisa said, "And now to take your mind off yourself: Who is that girl in her mother's dark brown almost black leather dress?"
"The blond?"
"Yes, they look German, but I don't recognise them from my classes with the other international pupils."
"I believe those are the headmaster's children, Georgina and Zacharias Smith."
"Are they twins? They have only danced with each other."
"Rumour is that they were forbidden to come unless they came with each other, fourth years can only come with parental permission, below that only with an invitation by an older student and parental permission."
"Ah," she said.
"They do look vaguely German or Swiss with those clothes, but … his blond has a bit more of the English / Irish red, though it does not show so much in this light. I agree that it looks like she's wearing her mother's clothes," said Harry, "which is odd, the shrinking charm isn't that difficult to learn. I'm sure she should already know it already."
"Then she's wearing dragon hide," said Kisa.
"Oh," said Harry, "Oh gracious."
"What?"
"I just inferred what story tomorrow's gossip will be," said Harry, "I'm thinking what I should tell Luna and whether I should ask her what the real story will turn out to be, and if I deserve to know."
"On the proviso that this is an exercise in predicting the gossip network, and not in actually telling or believing stories about your friends. What is this inspiration you have had?"
"That Tom Riddle invited her to the dance, before he invited my sis—cousin, that she said 'yes,' that her father said 'no,' and she is wearing a dress made from Tom's dragon, in protest, even though she designed it to fit her when she finishes growing, rather than right now. It is expensive and formal enough that he can't tell her 'no,' even though she could look better in anything she conjured in wool or silk in about half an hour."
"That is a rather convoluted rumour," said Kisa, "if you took pieces out of it to make it a less comprehensive story, what would they be?"
"It might not have been Tom who invited her, but her father might have forbade her to go with him anyway."
"How about," said Kisa, "she can't conjure that well, could you conjure anything that would last all evening when you were her age?"
"I am her age," said Harry, "and my dancing boots are transfigured from my second best wool socks."
"And your best pair of wool socks?"
"I am wearing as socks."
"Of course," she said, "I thought you were the rich one who can afford that suit you're wearing."
"I am," said Harry, "but I generally hike around in my hiking boots, I didn't realise how poorly my dancing boots fit now until I went to put them on. And hearing as much as I have about transfigurations not being permanent, especially since rumours about Tom's dragon—" Harry could not go on because her hand was in the way.
"We will not speak of him or that."
Harry blinked and nodded. She removed her hand.
"Who is 'we'?" said Harry.
"All Koldovstoretz, and anyone who wishes to converse with us."
Harry nodded. After several awkward seconds he said, "Because I didn't want an accident, I made my boots out of something that would not become too small for my feet."
"Better," She muttered in approval. Aloud she said, "When did you transfigure them?"
"Yesterday sometime," said Harry, "And renewed them right after lunch, they should be good until two PM tomorrow."
"So you can dance all night?"
"Well," said Harry, "My boots can, at any rate."
She flinched, "Don't say that."
"Don't say what?"
"There is a horrible story about a girl with new red dancing slippers, who … got too fond of them or too proud of them, and perhaps bragged to the wrong person, she danced all night and couldn't get home because she couldn't stop dancing, they found her in the woods with her shoes still dancing. Stories vary about whether they had to cut them off her feet, or if they had only found her after she died of exhaustion or starvation or exposure. And whether they went on dancing after being cut from her feet."
Harry closed his eyes, "and do we have any reason to believe that this is not just a story like Cinderella to encourage girls to model only the cute virtues, and not to stay out dancing too late? Or for that matter not to enchant things without multiple and layered automatic stops."
"It might be," she said, "tell me one that is not."
"Hmm," said Harry, it took him a few minutes to think of one, "The Red King's son … or the Red King and the witch."
"How does that go?"
"A youngest prince, Peter, after many trials, and warnings not to be afraid of what he sees, discovers that his baby sister is some kind of shape shifter with a monstrous apatite, interpretations vary, perhaps she was a vampire or a changeling or a witch. Anyway, he asks the Red King, his father, for his inheritance in gold and a horse that can carry it, and he runs away from home. Though he buries the chest first to travel faster. And he wanders the world and finds several utopias where death and old age are said to be held at bay but are not guaranteed to remain absent. He rejects them all in favour of a place called The Valley of Regret where The Wind, posing as a young boy, perhaps ten, lives quite alone and welcomes him to it's humble home. Something about the boy and his apparent youth gives the prince reason to believe him when he assures him that death and old age do not enter the valley. Years pass, a hundred years pass, or a million or twenty, it's all the same in that place, and the prince hunts game on the mountain of silver and the mountain of gold, and he always returns to the hut with a sufficient amount of game, but he always thinks the best game must be on the valley's third mountain, called the Mountain of Regret. Which the prince presumes is the best of the three, after all the valley seems to be named after it. But The Wind always abjures him from hunting on the Mountain of Regret."
"Bleu beard's chest, Pandora's box," she said. And took his hand.
Harry raised an eyebrow, then shrugged, "yes and no, eventually the prince does climb the Mountain of Regret and loads down his horse of legendary strength with as much game as he can carry. Which by implication might be several tons. Suddenly with enough game to share he thinks of all those who he might wish to share with, he thinks of home, as he has not done for years, so he returns to The Wind and tells him of his plans to return to his father's castle to see his brothers.
"The Wind tells him that his father's castle and whole city are gone and indistinguishable from the land around them, and that his brothers are long dead, he's just been blowing there only days ago. But little prince Peter will not be dissuaded and packs up his horse and starts off, visiting the various utopias, some after they have been worn away by time, others just as the time runs out on whatever clock that they told him of to explain how long into the future he didn't need to worry about old age or death if he were to stay. He mourns their loss and buries the dead, but he travels on. He gets to the place where his father's palace was supposed to be and it is gone. Even the city is gone, just as the wind said. He meets the old woman, his sister, she tries to kill him with magic, he drives her away, or kills her with the sign of the cross, or with the shovel he procured for digging up his treasure or burying the dead. He moves on. He meets an old man who remembers the tales of the Red King, but never heard of any evidence, but is impressed by Peter's claim to be the missing prince. Peter gets ready to leave, but decides to dig up his inheritance first."
"And?"
"Though it was hard to find the landmarks because of all the elapsed time, he eventually finds his treasure. Inside the chest along with his inheritance, he also finds death and old age, who grab hold of him and that is the end of Peter. But the old man goes home happy with a treasure of historical significance, also a horse that can carry it. And a story to explain how he has a chest full of the Red King's gold, generations later."
"Nice," said Kisa, "And this is a story of listening to your father and not being frightened of your sister's accidental magic?"
"Also of the benefits and drawbacks of several kinds of longevity treatments and time magics, if I recall correctly," said Tom, "I'm surprised you've heard the tale."
"Why wouldn't we," shrugged Glenda at his side, "it's in Francis Groome, like the best of them."
"Hello Tom, Glenda," said Harry, "This is Kisa Godunov, a friend of Anoushka Litvak."
"Yes, We've taken a lot of classes together by now," said Glenda.
"Oh," said Harry, "Right, don't mind me. How long were you standing behind me?"
"Since just before Peterkin got to the valley of regret, and I realised which story you were telling and that you'd just glossed over the seven civilisations that could keep old age at bay."
"Seven?" said Harry, "our books only mentioned two each, and there were … discrepancies. I couldn't reconcile them with themselves and began to ignore them. Going away and missing one's family, and one's home changing in one's absence was a very real concept to me. But … when half your family is on the road and the other half stays put, how does one choose which path to take. Or even which preference for a path to tell one's step-mother when she mentions the possibility that the question is as yet undecided for the coming year."
Tom hummed thoughtfully.
"Can you quote us the list of civilisations?" said Glenda.
"The bird people that must and eat golden apples and rub the age off their beaks on the wood of the same trees. So, given that 'apples' in many languages are the generic word for fruit fruit and 'golden apples' almost always calculate out to citrus of some form: Eat your fruit and don't kill your fruit trees. Cultivate extras if you really need their wood for something as well.
Kisa's hand suddenly relaxed and Harry realised how tense she'd been. Kisa who might not like boys and who's school might not like Tom. What else might she have been tense about that now she could relax? The music changing? Oh, that might be the socially acceptable way of getting her away from Tom. But now she had relaxed…
"2, the hall of the ascetics, who abstained from food, and drank only wine and potion, and those sparingly. They … I can't do justice to it. But my sense of the moral was, take your potions, and don't eat yourself to death, but don't forget to live. Also they try to gloss over it in front of Peterkin, but they lost a few of their number every year to potions accidents and addiction, which might be neither old age nor death, but still not a pretty fate.
"3, vampires or elves, depending on the teller, and much too generic to repeat.
"4, some people with some very advanced refrigerators, stasis charms, and food preparation rules. Died of a plague all at once instead of a few members ever year. So, food handling is important to your health, but not to your resilience. Modern lesson might be muggles healers are also right about inoculations.
"5, Amazons, exercise is important, also why worry about old age when you are more likely to die if neighbour's wife will kill you for looking at her crooked.
"6, the gods and demigods of fertility set against the gods and demigods of eternity. It starts to look like an awesome life, but when Peterkin pops his question about old age and death, they're like, my father's name is old age, and her father's name is death. So he gets out of there fast. So, … godlike powers are nice, but their drama catches up fast, also careful who you sleep with, I guess. Which is … basically the same as the elves and vampires and amazons but with a completely different kind of politics and thralls and infighting going on.
"7, the clockwork people in the copper palace who would survive 'until their palace tilted or their watermill stopped winding their clockwork each day, and even the people every night.' So, clockwork people aren't meant to survive in the real world, and even the land changes over time."
"On his return journey the copper palace is in ruins and so are its people, not counting those that have been mined for their metals, by newer civilisations. The gods are still there, but they are all different, only death and old age are said to be around, though rumoured to be out in the world at the moment. Peter doesn't stick around to find out. The amazons, are long gone to internal strife, the people with excellent food hygiene are dead to plague, though much of their preserved food is still edible, even after all this time, the vampires are out of sacrifices, or the elves are dead of intrigue, or their magic failing, or the anger of mortals, depending, though that could all be one thing, the ascetics were still there, and though Peterkin's personal friend was an addict with hands shaking so badly that Peter didn't doubt she'd be dead or maimed in a potions accident quite soon. The last of the birds were in the last of their trees. And Peterkin's homeland existed only as a memory and his own buried treasure. So be memorable, and bury your treasure if you're going away, but come back before the sands of time have themselves buried the marker under which you mean to dig. Some retellings have a serpent people who must rub their skin off on their golden hoard. Either in place of two or five or six, and elves moved from four to the other one, to allow for more seamless glossing over all the sex."
"Hmm," said Glenda, "is that all the themes and morals you've managed to pull from that little tale?"
"Hmm," said Tom, "There's also, the way Peterkin leaves home with a professed intent to marry, and eventually settles down with no companion but the wind. Then reneges on his vow to stay with the wind always, arriving back at home to kill the sister that he ran away from to start with, having buried all his previous companions and contemporaries. When he dies he leaves behind nothing but his treasure and his horse, and memories of his tale, all in the possession of a single old man. Which would have been just as likely if he stayed home, but if he'd stayed home or in half of those other civilisations he might have also had a good life, and left children behind." "Deep," said Glenda.
"Also given that he was the most competent of his brothers, perhaps the kingdom would have survived if he'd stayed home to offer a guiding hand. And perhaps in one or two of the other lands his intervention could have helped hold the inevitable end at bay for as long as he chose to help."
"Now there's thought worthy of a hufflepuff," said Glenda.
Tom stuck out his tongue out, "and staying around his baby sister, of the shovel mouth and axe hands would have required a griffendor's courage, and not killing her, nor being killed by her, or killing her and getting away with it would have taken a slytherin's cunning."
"Which leaves which is it, the ravenclaw?" said Kisa, "You think that perhaps the life he chose for himself is one that suited him, and if asked he might have reckoned it a good life?"
"Good point," said Glenda, "also deep."
"I wonder," said Harry, "The supposedly 'monstrous' sister, who is either witch or fay, she seems to have lived on her own the several thousands of years that Peterkin hid with the wind. If he'd stayed home and could have made friends, might he already have had the genetics to have lived just as long without going through the trouble of escaping."
"Perhaps," said Tom, "It does depend on whether she was his true sister, a half sister, or a changeling. Peterkin either didn't know, or didn't tell the old man, who is our supposed historian."
"What was the question?" said Kisa.
"If he had the same blood as his 'sister,' did he really need the plains of regret to keep him alive, though perhaps to keep him young?"
"And you answered 'we don't know, because we don't know if she was his sister.'?"
"Yes."
There was several seconds of meditation.
"So Tom, I must ask," said Kisa, "Before the gossip starts tomorrow, did you ask your headmaster's daughter to the ball?"
Glenda's eyebrows went up.
"No," said Tom, "who said I did."
"No one," said Kisa, "But she's wearing black dragon hide, and the theories are that it's either her mother's or that it came from your dragon in the first task."
"It did come from my dragon," said Tom, "but she bought it fair and square. There is plenty left for sale if you check the right shops in Diagon ally or Trowbridge. Even Paris I heard."
"Ah," said Kisa, and kicked Harry under the table.
"I suppose it was a rather large dragon," mused Glenda.
"And their wings have a tremendous amount of leather in them," said Tom, "I never realised before what an ideal shape for growing leather most dragons tend to be. (Though perhaps the fact that they don't grow very fast detracts from that.)"
Kisa's hand tensed hard. And Harry cleared his throat, "While fairy tales and story telling is a favourite pastime, we can discus those any time. But right now we are wasting music. Kisa would you like to dance some more?"
She sprang up fast enough to give the lie to his attempt not to be rude. He tried to follow her fast enough to not look like he was being dragged.
When they were safely moving with the music and Harry thought he could use his mouth as well he made a halfhearted apology for not thinking of the excuse sooner.
"It is nothing," she said but did not look at him.
"You spoke to him and did not hex him," said Harry.
"That is true."
"Is someone going to hex you for the one or for neglecting the other?"
"No," she said, "is not like that."
"May I ask why we will not speak of him?"
"Do you have laws about proper treatment of unmagic humans?"
"Muggles, yes. Mostly 'leave them alone' at least so far as doing anything that could make them confused or worried by magic."
"Right," she said, "making for them them subtle wards and potions is allowed here, but not anything bad and nothing that they can prove is magic?"
"Something like that," said Harry.
"That is more than we are allowed."
"Oh," said Harry.
"Is there special laws about how to punish people who leave magical things for them to find, especially dangerous magical things. Harder for the ministry to track down, impossible to pretend was self defence?"
"The muggle baiting laws? Yes, that has a worse punishment, and a completely different system of proof required, because the perpetrator might not be witnessed, and because it is much more difficult to claim that they aimed at a particular person, and therefore they cannot say that only 'a person who deserved it' was endangered."
"Good," she said.
They danced on.
"Good," she said again.
"I am missing something aren't I?"
"If I transfigured trick food and fed it to a unmagic human, what would happen to me?"
"Azkaban, probably ten years, if they caught you. Down to two if you can prove that it was an accident and they manage to rescue the muggle before the transfiguration sickness gets a firm hold."
She nodded.
Harry blinked, "And dragons just are unmagic drakkin, yes?"
She nodded.
"Merlin," said Harry and stopped dancing, "he's a hypocritical psychopath isn't he."
"What is that?"
"Hypocritical means claims to be a teacher but breaks the rules he teaches you. Psychopath means his brain is broken and he can't tell when people near him are hurting."
She frowned, "Does he know that dragons are people?"
"I don't know," said Harry, "I didn't know. I'd heard him tell Moit that, but only in an argument about whether rabbits have magic, not in a conversation that would need me to believe he believed it."
"Hmm," she said, "does he know that it is wrong to hurt people?"
"I'm not sure he knows that anything is wrong," said Harry, "He knows that some things are illegal. And that some things will make people not like you any more, like hurting them or breaking promises."
She nodded, "so if he doesn't expect to need you to like him, he can't remember it might be not good to hurt you?"
"Maybe."
She nodded and they resumed dancing. After a while she said, "I will tell Koldovstoretz, maybe there is a potion to heal him."
Harry smiled, "If there is, I recommend consulting Luna on how is best to convince him to take it."
She frowned, and after a while nodded.
Harry was just beginning to think he should find another topic when Kisa opened her mouth, paused, and then said, "Is that the thing that must happen while we are here to keep him from becoming a dark lord?"
Harry shivered, "I don't know. Please, ask Luna."
She nodded, and swallowed and looked away.
Gradually, Harry began to wonder and rather than put it off he asked, "Why is your school especially concerned about … what is wrong with Tom, or … are the other schools also concerned but I haven't heard about it yet?"
"This school boarders a wizard village, a rusalka village, a centaur territory, and an acromantula nest."
"I … knew about the wizard village."
She nodded, "And you have a half goblin teacher and a half giant teacher."
"I'm slightly more afraid of the half goblin," said Harry.
She nodded, "As you should be. But … it should be respect not fear."
Harry nodded.
"At this school all the children are magical humans."
"Harriet has mentioned at least two exceptions to that rule. I don't know if there are more."
She nodded, "How many exceptions do you know of, from Beauxbatons just from seventh year?"
He nodded, "At least twice as many."
"If I told you to wear a man shape between your legs, would you get a more accurate number?"
"I don't know what you mean."
She stared at him.
Harry blinked, "Is it their magic that would need to notice me being a man or my blood or brain chemestry that would need to change before I would notice this thing you are … not talking about?"
"I don't know, probably your own biology."
"Then it might need to be two or three days."
She nodded, "never mind, a third of their class has Veela ancestors, another sixth has another kind of rusalka in them."
"If we're discussing Veela ancestors, add another Hogwarts student.
She blinked, "you don't see Veela as not human?"
Harry shrugged, "I never worried about it one way or another."
She smirked a little, "maybe good for you, maybe you are asleep."
He shrugged, "What is your point?"
"If you visited our school, some of the better behaved students might win invitations to observe the drakkin council that meets very near by."
"Oh. Wow," said Harry.
"Most of the upper year classes are attended by drakkin students."
"Oh," said Harry.
"Some of them are animagi with a human form. Most are not."
"Oh," said Harry. Trying to picture taking classes with dragons, dragons wielding wands, or carving runes, or mixing potions.
"Many of our teachers are drakkin, and most of our senior teachers are."
"Oh," said Harry.
She sniffed. "The foundation of your society seems to be your statute of secrecy. A way for the magic humans to hold the strength of the population of the unmagic humans over the head of the other peoples and let the magic humans be in charge, instead of merely advising how not to scare the unmagic humans enough that they would take an interest in our affairs."
"Hmm," said Harry.
"The document that is the foundation of our society," said Kisa, "Is about drakkin and dragons agreeing not to catch and enslave beings with hands for tasks that require hands, or for killing them to take their shapes or their magic, except by mutual agreement. In return humans, magical and otherwise, agree not to hunt us, and to give us equal economic rights, so that we'll have the means to pay for the hands we need to hire now and then, so as to avoid the need to kidnap."
For half a minute the only coherent thought Harry could come up was, 'You just said 'us.'
Finally he said, "Are you all very annoyed that the first task had dragons in it at all?"
"Maybe annoyed, maybe disturbed. Maybe much more disturbed that they played with real eggs in the field."
Harry nodded.
"Maybe equally disturbed that they played with young mothers, who don't have experience with their nesting emotions, instead of old grandfather dragons who might look at it all as a fun wrestling match to induce a good stretch and exercise. If they'd done that, maybe half our professors might have volunteered. Several of our professors of self defence are somewhat … crazy no, … maybe 'addicted' to a good fight, now and then."
Harry breathed, "I think I see."
"The other thing that annoys us very much is that our drakkin students who don't have human forms were very strongly invited not to come here. And our drakkin students were strongly encouraged not to enter, because it might not be fair for the magical human children. But the student from Brown is … has a dragon's magic, and the Beauxbatons student is a veela, and we are annoyed but only mildly. And then the Hogwarts student steals a dragon's magic against her will and kills her with trick food, and both things in front of witnesses and the day ends and he is not in prison."
Harry did not know what to say. Though she knew that the practical answer was that Tom's magma petrel couldn't be kept in any kind of prison, not that most people knew what they were.
"Now I am annoyed at all of those things," said Harry, "And at the law that Tom found to let him sell the body once he took her magic, instead of it going home to her family or whatever dragons think should happen to their remains."
She nodded, "They do not mind their remains being used or sold, but you are right, the money should have gone to her family and village, not to … that."
Harry immediately remembered Dietrich's pronouncement to the goblins, that they were welcome to eat what was left of Ulrich.
"Do you know what happened to Tom's body?"
She blinked and looked at her, "Did he really leave one behind, or was that another trick?"
"It wasn't another trick," Harry said, "or rather he did sacrifice himself before he sacrificed the dragon, when he left the field both bodies were on the ground. He didn't pretend the body belonged to him until the judge said he was responsible for her death."
"And he never bothered with his own."
"Harriet didn't say what happened to it, I wonder who knows."
She frowned, "I suspect is in a lab somewhere, or that the dragon preserve sold it to a hospital," she snickered, "I wonder which body actually sold for more."
Harry smirked, "it would be ironic if poor orphan Tom went through all that trouble to sell a dragon, and left behind something more valuable."
"He is an orphan?" she said.
"As am I," said Harry, "But I am part of a large of family."
"And you are rich?"
Harry shrugged, "Mildly."
"And you said he is family. A cousin or something?"
"I might be the only one in my family who acknowledges the connection."
"Harriet claimed it."
"Maybe only because I ordered her to," said Harry, "Maybe she would have avoided him if I had not said so."
"You say he is poor, have you given him any money?"
"No," said Harry, "He would resent that. I give him hugs sometimes. And I help with his business sometimes. But no gifts."
"He wants to be a poor orphan?"
Harry shrugged, "He wants … no debts except maybe to people who … he could respect as superiors, he has only ever admitted that Dumbledore is enough superior, and he hates Dumbledore."
She shook her head, "I think if he hated him, he would already kill him."
"Maybe," said Harry, "Or maybe he hates him too much to let him die."
"It is not good to hate that much," she said.
The music ended and it turned out to be time for the bands to trade so there wouldn't be music for quite a while. So they walked toward the food where she made him eat 'enough that you won't mind walking in the snow.'
While he ate she said, "I don't think that hates Dumbledore. Why would he? If he does, why would he not be more crazy?"
"He is very powerful for a wizard," said Harry.
"Which one?"
"Both, I meant Tom."
"Alright."
"I think Dumbledore was the only wizard Tom had met before he met drakkins who was more powerful than himself."
Her eyes widened.
Harry continued, "And he is an orphan and hopes someday Dumbledore will say, now I am proud enough of you that I will admit that you are my son. But he is not Dumbledore's son, and Dumbledore will never say that."
Her eyes widened and danced, after a few seconds she looked at him again, "I thought he was smarter than that."
"His head is smarter than that," said Harry, "I'm not sure about his heart. I think his heart sees that everyone is not as smart as him, and not as magic as him and decides that they are all children. Which leaves him no adults to learn from."
She closed her eyes. Harry chewed another mouthful.
"So if that becomes a dark lord, it is because the world needed babysitting until the adults come back?"
Harry tried not to choke. Someone behind him seemed to be having a similar problem.
While he fought with his food and his instincts, she cleared her throat, "If you're talking about Tom, then yes. And what is worse is that there are no 'adults' to come back and relieve him, except Dumbledore, a quarter of the vampire lords and some of the smarter drakkin."
"Unfortunately," grumbled someone behind him.
Harry looked over his shoulder to see Headmaster Smith and his son, and a woman in a dress of an unusual shade of bright blue he'd never seen outside the wizarding world. And next to them were Georgina, Padma, and Glenda. From their postures and positions, they'd been trying to pull Georgina away for some kind of conference but had stopped to eavesdrop.
Padma caught him looking and took it as acknowledgement and invitation to join the conversation.
"Which is why," said Padma, "he's been trying to resign himself to being on childcare duty for centuries to come."
Harry could tell that Glenda remembered the connection between Tom and Voldemort perfectly well from the way her mouth dropped open. Georgina on the other hand seemed to glow with hufflepuff pride at the idea of anyone accepting that long an assignment.
A few seconds later Kisa took his hand. Which made it impossible to eat, except directly from his plate. He wasn't sure whether to tell her to let go, or …
"Perhaps we should go sit down, to eat." he said.
Kisa led him away.
"I'm sorry everyone wants to talk about Tom tonight," he said, "what would you like to talk about?"
"Not talking, dancing," she said, "but first you eat."
"Yes, ma'am," said Harry and took a bite.
She looked around, perhaps making eye contact with her classmates, perhaps only tracking what everyone was doing.
Harry considered doing the same, but had realized earlier in the night that he was supposed to be pretending that he didn't know these people.
"Did you really want to walk in the snow later? How long did you want to dance first?" said Harry, "and did you want to do anything else besides dancing? And/or is there anyone else here that you wish to dance with?"
"I might danced with Anoushka, if your Luna hadn't said wisdom says, 'not yet,'"
"Is Russia so much more against lesbianism than Western Europe?"
Kisa looked at him, "Why do you ask that?"
"I was muggle raised," said Harry, "England's laws were very strict about it not so long ago."
"Ah," she said, "Russia's unmagic human's laws are very strict about it too, though perhaps not so strict as England's laws. But when my people see Anoushka at my side they are not afraid that we might have sex, they are suspiscious that I wish to steal her body."
Harry blinked, "You mean like possession, or do you mean like skin walking?"
"I mean like Ugol err, like Tom's victim," said Kisa.
"Skin walking," said Harry, "they think you want to do that to her?"
Kisa nodded, "more like they might suspect that we wish to merge."
"Do you wish to merge?"
"Maybe some day," said Kisa, "not any time soon. I already have a human animagus form, she is already quite intelligent for a human. Not the most powerful magic, but not noticeably below average either."
"I'd have expected that she's above average," said Harry, "just from the evidence that the goblet of fire picked her for the contest."
Kisa nodded, "she is not below average. But merging a team into a single entity is a strategy for when you need a stronger individual, much much more than you need a team. Almost always a team is better."
"So you don't wish to merge," said Harry, "But the mere suspicion would be enough to make people treat you poorly?"
Kisa nodded, "The foundational law," she said, "I told you that, it is not something to be trifled with."
Harry nodded.
"Your foundational law is about treating unmagic humans with respect?"
"Yes, I suppose."
"And the taboos around it have grown so strong that your purebloods won't talk to muggleborns."
"It's much more nuanced than 'not talking to'" said Harry, "but I understand what you're saying."
She nodded, "So, you understand when I say huge taboos have grown up around skin walking. The legal licenses and ceremonies required to legally conduct that sort of magical ceremony are huge and complicated."
"Alright," said Harry.
"Much more carefully regulated than adoption or marriage."
"Right."
"But the social pressure is much stronger even than the government pressure. That might be what Luna probably saw, if we dance together."
"Oh," said Harry, "But if you don't want to and you've told people that you don't want to..."
Kisa frowned at him, "That's not what I said. But never mind. You asked if anyone is likely to steal me away. The answer is no. You may confidently feel responsible for keeping me on my feet the entire night."
"Entire night? meaning until midnight, or meaning until dawn?"
Kisa grinned, "you only said how much your shoes can do, you haven't said how long you can go."
"I'm not sure how long I can go," said Harry, "It's been a while since I tried. And it's not summer."
"So not too hot to move?" said Kisa.
"I meant, when we stop, we'll have to leave enough energy to get safely to bed and enough left over to stay warm all night."
"Ah," she said, "Don't mind me." And she smirked.
"Animagus form," said Harry, "you're dancing on magic not food?"
She grinned wider.
"Alright," said Harry, "I'm a metamorph, I can repair my muscles with magic instead of sleep. But I can't power them that way."
She nodded, "And no classes tomorrow. And neither of us are Anoushka. No one is watching us, we can stop whenever we wish, so the only question we need to ask is, 'do I wish to dance one more dance?'"
Harry nodded, and took his last bite. "In that case, I promise to tell you when the answer has changed to 'no'"
She grinned and held out her hand again.
Harry took it and they threaded their way back to the dance floor.
.
{End Chapter 8}
