AUTHOR'S NOTE AND DISCLAIMER:
This is a work of fanfiction, written and posted solely for the enjoyment of readers of fanfiction. The author makes no claims and receives no remuneration. All characters and locations in this story are from the works of JK Rowling, or derive therefrom. Many thanks to Ms. Rowling for letting us riff a little.
A Mosaic of Warping Mirrors
Chapter Seven
Origins of the Man
Harry Potter held his hand before Daphne Greengrass, letting her respond in her own good time.
"Mr. Potter, I would be honored to dance with you," she said.
Two witches looked on, silently, at the next table, left behind when Draco Malfoy, Astoria Greengrass, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe went to replenish their drinks. Harry didn't recognize the two who did look vaguely familiar. Harry had returned Pansy Parkinson to her chair when they finished dancing and she turned toward the witches. Pansy's actions gave every appearance of being the prelude to some conversation. Harry nodded a little 'Bye' to Pansy and her neighbors as he followed Daphne back to the dance floor.
Harry and Daphne joined the other dancers, turned and faced one another. Harry smiled first, getting just a little return smile from Daphne. Harry was glad. She'd looked icy earlier. He didn't want to dance with an icy Daphne. He raised his arms in invitation and Daphne joined her right hand with his left, put her left hand on Harry's shoulder and let him rock them both, back and forth as they shuffled wherever the crush permitted.
"Not a lot of places to go," Harry observed.
"Before we do this again," said Daphne, "We'll practice. Perhaps get some lessons, beyond rudimentary."
"I'd like that," said Harry.
He studied Daphne's face. Harry had begun acknowledging, strictly to himself, that something about Daphne went beyond. He wasn't completely sure what she went beyond but he knew when he was in her presence the world was warmer, the stars brighter and more numerous and his jokes were lots, lots funnier. He still liked Daphne and Pansy as a pair and Millicent Bulstrode was turning out to be both interesting and a pleasant Yule Ball date.
'Something about her, that's all,' he mused.
He looked at her face and smiled again. In his mind he heard her name, as if someone had spoken: 'Daphne.'
Harry thought he probably should offer some conversation. Who knew how much time Millicent would allow them?
"Having fun?"
Merlin, it sounded so weak. Trite, too.
Daphne smiled, a very big smile, one that put dimples in her cheeks.
"I am," she said. "You?"
"It's been, ah, different," said Harry. "It's my first Yule Ball. Millicent is my first real date. Unless a business meeting over ice cream at Madame Puddifoot's counts."
Daphne made no effort to suppress the laugh that had to get out.
"Has anyone brought that up? We heard about it. Pansy and I, afterwards. The eyes, Harry. There are so many of them. If ninety-nine miss the meeting over ice cream at Madame Puddifoot's, you can be certain number one hundred will see it and spread the news around," said Daphne. "Do you see the sense in doing it this way?"
Harry went back to Daphne's face.
"Millicent," he said, watching for Daphne's reaction.
"I know," she said. "She's a surprise, isn't she?"
Daphne moved closer, putting her cheek next to Harry's and speaking so low he could barely hear.
"There is a reason for everything," she said, then, "All in good time."
Daphne pulled back, an arm's length separating them once more. She still gave Harry a smile that said, 'Delighted to be here, an arm's length from you.' They kept time with the music, looked one another in the eye and tried to convey profound thoughts without putting them into words.
When the song ended, Harry walked Daphne back. Pansy sat at their table as did two wizards whose faces Harry recognized but whom he couldn't name. He nodded to both and wished them a good evening, a courtesy they both returned. Pansy and Daphne seemed fine with the idea of the two wizards, who looked to Harry like they were a bit too old for the witches. Harry gave the table a final, farewell nod and went back to look for Millicent, who was not at all hard to pick out from the crowd.
"Dinner's coming," said Millicent when Harry got to their table.
Harry looked for cues to Millicent's state of mind. He was happy to see that his date seemed fine with his performance up to that point, including his comportment during the two courtesy dances. She arranged those with her housemates. He didn't think it would do, at all, if he failed her there. Harry wondered what was going on. He knew something was. He wondered if he would ever get a full brief.
"What did you order?" asked Harry.
"The chicken," said Millicent. "You?"
"The stir-fried vegetarian with rice and spring rolls," said Harry. "I wanted to try that kelp dish."
"Sounds good," said Millicent. "Are you a vegetarian?"
"No, I just encountered someone who ate a lot of kelp and swore by it," Harry said. "When I saw it was one of the choices I thought I'd try it."
"I'm sure it will be fine," said Millicent. "If you don't like it, your elf will surely bring you whatever you want."
"You know about Dobby?" asked Harry, wondering how Millicent had stumbled on that knowledge.
"You bet," she said. "I don't think it is widely known. I believe he confided in Tracey, or something."
Harry thought that improbable, considering Dobby's usual reluctance to explain his presence at Hogwarts. Harry agreed his trickery in getting Lucius Malfoy to free Dobby could still be a cause of offense to the pompous blowhard. Better for Dobby to work at Hogwarts and stay out of sight.
"I don't think it is. Widely known, that is. Oh, he isn't mine, did you know that? Lucius freed him. Gave him an old sock. That is definitely not widely known and needs to stay that way."
Millicent had a 'Cat-that-ate-the-canary' smile on her face.
"Harry…"
They looked back and forth.
"Harry, that will go with me to my grave," she said.
"No, I didn't mean that!" said Harry.
He leaned over, trying to make his voice audible only to Millicent.
"I just meant, no need to provoke something," Harry said. "The Malfoys, you know?"
He waved a hand in a way that attempted to convey the idea of a wishy-washy character struggling to navigate daily life without the benefit of either a spine or sense of direction.
"Yeah, I know," Millicent said, sighing. "The whole house knows. Maybe we should talk about something else. Got any ideas about what you want to do when we're finished with school?"
"I've been thinking about the aurors," answered Harry.
That was true, as far as it went. It was also true that Harry had thought about careers when he believed he was an orphan with few assets. When he'd thought of his personal vault as the sum of his earthly estate. When he calculated his funds to be just enough to complete his magical education and live on while he looked for a paying job.
Pansy, Daphne and Anvil had shown him he had other options. The witches knew a little about the Potter finances from their discussions of the arrangements for managing the profits from their business ventures. The trip to the family vault with Anvil raised further possibilities. Harry wore one symbolic expression on his right hand.
"Harry?"
Millicent's question broke Harry out of his reverie, where, he suddenly realized, he had been worrying his signet and pondering confusing bouquets of alternate futures. For just an instant Harry wondered how long he had been in his fog.
"Oh, sorry! So much happening, isn't there? My apologies, Millicent, really. Was that rude of me?"
The words fought for precedence, trying to come out at once despite the limits of mind-mouth coordination and the laws of physics.
"No! How could you not have a lot on your mind, with everything that is going on?" Millicent asked. "You were selected for this tournament when the published rules said you shouldn't even be entered. I'd be petrified, or withdrawn from school if it were me."
"Ah—I don't think so," Harry said. "But thanks."
Harry looked at the nearby tables. Everyone was eating except for him and his date.
"We're behind already," Harry said.
"Then we'll start," said Millicent.
They picked up knives and forks and began working through the dishes set before them.
"How's the chicken?" asked Harry.
"Delicious," Millicent said. "What's yours again? Seaweed?"
"Kelp, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots…" Harry answered. "It's really good. Want some?"
The offer initiated an exchange of delectables, back and forth, conversation dwindling down to minimal levels.
"Mmm!"
"Have another one."
"I'm eating all of yours!"
"So? If you like it, and I'm not going to fight you over it…"
"You do have a point. Want some more? How about a roll? Here…"
At one point, Harry's fork was spearing something on Millicent's plate while she was swapping her empty soup bowl for his, still untouched. This did not go unnoticed, although neither heard anything about it until the next day.
"We never got back to careers," said Millicent. "You want to be an auror?"
"I've been thinking about it," said Harry. "I've got some other ideas, too. What about you? Any favorite subjects?"
"Of course," said Millicent.
"And?" Harry asked.
"Promise you won't laugh?"
"Promise," said Harry.
"I really like magical creatures," said Millicent. "I like animals, generally, but kneazles, hippogriffs and kelpies are so interesting. Professor Hagrid seems mainly concerned with blast-ended skrewts and flobberworms and I simply do not get it."
Harry admitted he didn't get it, either. His hypothesis was that the Buckbeak misadventure, featuring, of course, Draco Malfoy, had soured Hagrid on creatures with real abilities. Harry couldn't expand on his theory because that would lead to divulging some very sensitive information regarding Buckbeak.
Millicent leaned over close, to whisper.
"I thought I was going to wet myself when the Abraxans flew in, pulling that carriage."
Harry took momentary refuge in his napkin.
"That's the coolest thing I've heard all day," he said. "They know how to make an entrance, don't they? Any particular thing you want to do with magical creatures? Breed them, train them, show them?"
"No, just find a way to make a living, working with them," said Millicent.
An idea started germinating inside Harry's head.
"Do you like flying? Brooms, I mean," he said.
"I'm okay, not like you," Millicent admitted.
The question she'd answered wasn't exactly the same as the one Harry had asked, but it was close.
"Oh, some of that is just practice," said Harry.
Harry and Millicent moved on to a cup of tea each when dinner and dessert were finished and the tables cleared. Dancing, then dinner, closed up in the Great Hall in formalwear, had stoked the good feelings. The volume of the collective conversation was becoming painful and Harry was ready for a few minutes of relative quiet and some outdoor air. Millicent was ready as well, it seemed, sounding relieved and agreeing immediately when Harry suggested they go outside for a bit. The Weird Sisters were the post-dinner band and both wanted to be ready to dance.
"That is better," Harry said.
He'd taken his first few breaths of the nighttime Yule air. Harry raised the cape that topped his formal gear, let the fresh air fill it, then dropped it, repeating three or four times.
"Very bat-like," observed Millicent. "Maybe a vampire."
"There's a magical creature for you," said Harry.
"Could be," said Millicent. "That just could be. Harry?"
"Uh-huh?"
"I'm glad you asked me to the Yule Ball," said Millicent.
They were leaning with their backs to a low stone parapet. Harry turned so they were face to face.
"I am so glad you told me," said Harry. "I was thinking the same thing. We'll have to be extra nice to Pansy and Daphne. I guess it was their idea."
"Want to share that cloak?" asked Millicent.
Harry looked and saw that the fabric of her gown and the short matching stole were definitely not enough clothing for standing around outside in December. He felt like a cad.
"Oh, Millicent, here! I apologize!"
Harry whipped the cape off his own shoulders and around Millicent's.
"Now you'll be cold!" said Millicent.
"I'll let you know," said Harry. "Tie it up, there, where those ribbon things are."
"Harry, that won't be necessary," said Millicent. "Are you sure?"
She held up the side nearest Harry, indicating she thought there was enough room for the two of them, if Harry wanted to stand a bit closer. Harry finally grasped Millicent's meaning.
"Oh, well, if you're sure," Harry said, moving in under the cape.
Millicent's height was just enough for her to take a half-step toward Harry and let her arm come down across his shoulders, enabling her to take a little grip of Harry's deltoid and convey a message: 'Come here, you!' it said. Harry, too, needed a perch for his own near hand and the flare of Millicent's hip was positioned perfectly. He hoped he wasn't being overly forward.
"Nice," Harry said.
"Very," Millicent agreed.
An amplified guitar chord sounded from the castle. They would need to end fresh air time soon if they wanted to dance some more. Harry didn't know why but he tilted his head, letting it just touch Millicent's. She noticed and didn't object. In fact, Harry felt Millicent's head turn toward his, her nose touching his temple, her lips on his cheek.
"Thank-you," she whispered. "I won't forget this Yule, as long as I live."
Harry heard Millicent's breaths, in and out, in and out, right in his ear. It was a strangely exciting sound, like having another sharing one's very essence. Harry listened, fascinated, while he tried to think of something to say.
"Me neither," came out, on its own, strictly volunteer.
Harry was still wondering why something more profound wouldn't emerge when he felt Millicent's grip tighten, along with the arm around his shoulder, drawing him tightly to her. He turned his head slightly and felt her lips on his. A sensation that felt like lightning shot from the spot where their lips made contact down his spine and all the way to his toes. Millicent didn't open her lips and she didn't linger over-long. She did everything right and in the correct proportions.
"Wow," the both mouthed, not even a whisper.
"Millicent?"
"Harry?"
"Would you like to dance?"
"I think perhaps, we should," breathed Millicent as she let go of Harry's shoulder and stepped out from under his formal cape.
It might have been accidental but Harry was certain he felt the slightest brush of Millicent's lips on his ear as they separated.
They danced to the song that was playing when they got back to the Great Hall. Harry didn't make a move to leave at the end of the song and neither did Millicent. Staying on the floor and dancing, song after song, seemed to be what both of them wanted. Millicent stopped dancing at the end of one number and leaned toward her date.
"While I'm gone, why don't you pay my remaining debt to your partners?"
"Great idea," Harry said.
He didn't think he had taken any action that would make it happen but one way or the other, Harry and Millicent's cheeks just touched, again, as Millicent turned to leave. He began his trek to the table where sat his two business partners.
"Your servant, Miss Greengrass," Harry said, bending just slightly from the waist.
"Delighted, Mr. Potter," said Daphne.
She didn't make it easy on him but just sat there, a bemused expression on her face, waiting for Harry to state his business.
"The witch I am with, Miss Bulstrode, has detailed me to escort you to the dance floor and pay an installment. She is in your debt, I understand?" Harry stated.
"So deep she will never get out," laughed Daphne as she popped out of her chair. "Never!"
Daphne took Harry's hand and pulled him into the crowd. Then she started to dance. It was more than 'a' dance, Harry realized. He was confused for a minute or a bit more. Something was happening but he wasn't sure just what. It wasn't anything he had experienced before. When Daphne danced, everything seemed to stop except Daphne and the music.
Harry had never seen anything like it. Daphne's movements were a perfect complement to the music the band played. Her eyes were on him, half-closed, watching him watch her. Harry began to feel that Daphne danced for him. She was giving him a gift. He wanted to give her something commensurate with her gift to him while he understood he possessed nothing of comparable value. What could he bring, something he made himself, of which there was only one in the world, in the Universe, in fact, formed from his imagination, grace, gesture and affection for Daphne, as every facet of her essence was combined in one beautiful bundle, all for him? A thought formed, just inside the boundary of consciousness.
Daphne was directing his thoughts. No. That wasn't right. She wasn't directing. She was showing. Letting him see? Not seeing, either. Nor feeling. Experiencing. All of the senses combined, along with his conscious mind. He was experiencing a state of mind, just outside his perceptual boundaries. He stood in the face of opposing forces with nothing between those and himself, yet he wasn't alone. He felt a presence behind him, feeding him strength, power, energy and magic. While he stood he was safe and so were they. Harry took her hand.
Daphne laughed and twirled into Harry, wrapping his arm around herself as she spun toward him. Harry understood he was to send Daphne spinning away, which he did. When their arms were at full length Daphne let go, spinning in place, at least four or five complete revolutions before she halted, grabbed his hand again and let herself be pulled to him, ending exactly as the song concluded, her back slumped against his chest, their arms holding their bodies together like wild grape vines.
Harry hadn't been paying attention to the rest of the room but the rest of the room had been paying attention to them. He and Daphne were the only couple still dancing at the end. When they froze at the end of the song everyone present, except Harry and Daphne, broke into cheers.
Millicent, watching from the edge of the crowd, caught Harry's eye.
"WOW," she said, or mouthed, because Harry couldn't tell if she actually spoke.
He sent Millicent a look. 'WHAT is going on?' it asked, but Millicent wasn't telling.
Harry's attention turned to his dance partner.
"That was something," he said.
"Was it?" Daphne asked. "What was it, would you say?"
"I don't know," said Harry.
He looked in Daphne's eyes. She looked back. Harry raised the arm nearer to Daphne and placed her hand on his forearm. The two of them walked back to the table where Pansy sat, making small talk with the two wizards. Harry waited for Daphne to sit down before offering his hand to Pansy and asking for the honor of a dance.
Pansy smiled and accepted, giving Harry her hand and letting him assist her to her feet.
The two wizards, whom Harry still couldn't place, looked on, silent, faces neutral.
"Having fun?" Harry asked.
"Ha! If I wasn't having fun I'd be down in the dungeons, fast asleep," Pansy answered. "How's your evening?"
Harry looked over, lingering a moment on the crinkles at the corners of Pansy's eyes, the upturned mouth and dimpling in her cheeks.
"I think you know," said Harry. "I glance over at your table now and then. Who are those wizards?"
"They finished seventh year," said Pansy. "They work with a professor, prepping for one more NEWT exam. They are semi-acquaintances, I guess. Millicent seems happy tonight."
"She is, as far as I can tell," Harry said. "Glad they're playing this one."
The band had started a new song, one with a medium tempo, shuffling beat. All Harry had to do was let his mind go and the rest of him would fuse with the drums and bass. He wouldn't look like he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
His partner was in complete agreement. They could even manage a little attention span for conversation.
"Plans for tomorrow?" Pansy asked.
"Boxing Day."
Harry made it a statement. He didn't even know what one was supposed to do on Boxing Day. Christmas had always been just one more miserable day until he came to Hogwarts. He'd become more fond of the season over the past four years. The special dishes at Christmas Dinner, the gifts, the good feelings generated by all of the greetings—all of it combining in a mélange of distraction from Harry's pre-Hogwarts situation.
"I've heard a lot of people are going home," said Harry. "They stayed for the ball. Come midnight…"
"Yes, we're free to leave as soon as it is over," said Pansy.
"Are you going?" asked Harry.
"Yes. I'll go in the morning. The family will do presents. Then we'll pay calls until evening then it will be time for the Yule Dinner. We'll have a few guests. After dinner Mother and Father will welcome callers for wassail and carols and compliments of the season. It's our standard Yule, just moved back one day."
"Sounds wild," said Harry, leaning in, speaking to Pansy's ear.
Pansy directed her reply as Harry had done.
"I don't know," she said. "It is our biggest family bash all year. The other holidays get a little more elaborate dinner, I guess. Otherwise they're just regular days."
They separated and enjoyed dancing. Harry liked watching Pansy move and thought her face was saying she liked watching him.
"I can see we'll have to get you around to observe some more magical families," said Pansy.
Harry took it at face value, not interpreting further.
"You've spent some time with the Weasleys, I know, but they aren't…really…typical."
The song approached its finish and the dancing wound down. Harry held out his hand, which Pansy took, giving Harry a means to pull her close for a hug and an unwrapping fling. Pansy finished, one hand in Harry's and the opposite arm extended, hand raised to head level. They didn't get any applause but Pansy felt like the queen of the dance floor, regardless.
Harry returned Pansy to the table she'd co-occupied with Daphne, where he thanked her again for allowing him the honor. He noticed the two older students were gone while Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass were back at the next table. He couldn't think of any reason not to so he put his heels together and briefly nodded. To Harry's surprise, Draco nodded back, even adding, "Potter."
Harry turned and began his walk back to Millicent, who had been watching. Her facial expression said 'Bemusement' so he judged he hadn't crossed any boundaries.
"Having fun?" Millicent asked when Harry got back to their table.
"I am," he said. "Need anything? Something cold? Mints? Nuts?"
"No thank-you," said Millicent. "We could go pay our respects, maybe thank the professors for the wonderful evening."
"Oh, is that customary?" Harry asked. "I don't know anything about these things. Balls and whatnot."
"Well, then, you're just lucky you've got me here to guide you," said Millicent as she stood up.
Millicent took Harry's arm, drawing them close together. Harry didn't think anything of it at the time because Millicent made it seem like the most natural thing ever.
"Just go up to your head of house and thank her for all the work putting together this lovely evening," Millicent said.
They got to the head table and Harry led the way to where Professor McGonagall sat, between Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout.
"Professor, we wanted to stop and pay our respects and thank you for all the work organizing this evening," Harry said.
It must have been acceptable, judging by the encouraging squeeze Millicent applied to Harry's arm.
"Same here, Professor," Millicent said. "Delightful evening. Thank-you."
They both nodded to Flitwick and Sprout, waited for the reciprocal greetings and moved on to the other senior faculty. Harry suddenly realized who they'd be greeting next.
"Snape."
Millicent looked at Harry.
"You can do it, and you will," muttered Millicent.
The tone was compelling. Harry didn't think he had a lot of choices. If he insisted they skip Snape it could come back on Millicent. Harry wouldn't get a fair deal from Severus Snape in any case.
"Professor Snape," he said when they got to where his nemesis sat. "Miss Bulstrode and I wish you compliments of the season and thank-you for your work in organizing tonight's ball."
Snape's face was unreadable but the pause said he was taken completely by surprise. Some subtle change must have conveyed Harry's discomfort to Millicent. She stepped just slightly forward and leaned against Harry's upper arm and shoulder, lifting just a little with the hand that gripped his arm. He remembered Millicent's words.
"Miss Bulstrode, Mr. Potter, likewise, of course. Are you enjoying the ball?"
"Yes, Professor, very much so," said Millicent.
"Enjoy the evening," Harry added, throwing in one more momentary nod before they turned away, looking for Dumbledore.
"That wasn't hard now, was it?" Millicent whispered, her head turned so her words were for Harry alone.
"Wasn't easy," Harry replied.
The Headmaster was not hard to find. He sat at his usual place at the high table, the only furnishing that kept its place when the Great Hall was transformed for the Yule Ball. Harry and Millicent took the few stairs to the dais and crossed to the center of the table, backs to the crowd.
"Headmaster," Harry said, inclining his head.
Millicent dropped Harry's arm and gave herself space, moving a step away from her date and dropping into a curtsy.
"Headmaster," she said.
Across the ballroom, Astoria Greengrass stared. Draco Malfoy was muttering something to Gregory Goyle when Astoria gave him a firm poke in the ribs. She didn't say anything, forcing Draco to follow her eyes.
Draco Malfoy didn't react, other than a slight shake of his head.
Draco and Astoria weren't alone. Harry and Millicent had unintentionally occupied the most visible spot in the room. The elevation and lighting combined favorably. A subtle spotlighting effect gave Millicent pride of place in the tableau. The timing could not have been better and at least three-fourths of the assembled were watching when the headmaster rose from his seat and reached across the table, offering his hand to Millicent. She laid her fingers across Dumbledore's palm, stretching her arm toward him so that Dumbledore could, by leaning from his waist, lower his head for a perfectly-acceptable air kiss a few inches above Millicent's knuckles.
"Your servant, Miss Bulstrode," said Dumbledore as he rose. "Please pass my best regards to your father and mother. Will you be going home tomorrow or staying here with us?"
"I'll be leaving in the afternoon," said Millicent. "Lots of families will do their Yule calls then."
"I always loved Yule calls," Dumbledore said. "Compliments of the season."
Harry and Millicent thanked Dumbledore, nodded in respect and returned to the floor for some more dancing. The tempo slowed as midnight approached. Harry found himself on the dance floor, holding Millicent as Millicent held him. Now and then they would just touch cheeks but most of the time they were separated, barely enough to share a word or two and a smile. Harry looked at the big clock on the wall and decided, suddenly and unexpectedly, that there were some things he felt obligated to say. Nor was obligation his only motivation for he genuinely wanted to say some things. He hoped Millicent was feeling receptive.
"I've had a wonderful time," Harry said. "I would look forward to doing this again."
"Are you surprised?" asked Millicent.
"Very pleasantly," answered Harry. "I appreciated the help. Getting someone help me work through the Yule Ball, I mean. It's been fun. I didn't know what to expect. I've never been to anything like this before. Without you, I'd have been…Would you like to do something tomorrow? Before you leave?"
"As long as it doesn't make me late," said a smiling Millicent.
The dancing ended soon after and Harry escorted Millicent down toward the dungeons without getting close enough to the occluded Slytherin entrance to draw attention. Before they split up they agreed to meet outside the Great Hall at nine the next morning. It was only when he had gotten into bed and was awaiting sleep that Harry thought he should have asked if Millicent liked to fly.
Harry caught Millicent's eye at breakfast, sending a little inquisitive look between tables. Millicent smiled and sent back three short nods. The agreed-upon meeting place was the main corridor outside the Great Hall.
"Where are we going?" Millicent asked as they left the rendezvous point.
Harry had taken Millicent through the castle, to the storage room for brooms. Luckily, Millicent did like to fly and kept her own Shooting Star at Hogwarts.
"That's a good one," Harry said.
"You fly a Firebolt!" protested Millicent.
"Yeah, I'm a chaser, so it makes sense," Harry observed. "They're a dangerous indulgence unless you're doing something similar. Well, here's the plan. We're going outside, we'll fly over the edge of the lake then turn north for a bit. There is a track to follow. You don't need to worry about it, that's my job. Then we'll land and see what is going on."
"What sort of thing do you expect to find going on?" asked Millicent.
"There is a magical creature, or there was, last time I was up there," said Harry as he put a leg over his broomstick.
The Firebolt wanted some exercise, it was plain, but Harry had to hold his speed down in light of Millicent's slower broom. Besides, flying along together was surprisingly, extraordinarily pleasant. Before long they left the lake behind and began following the track through the grasslands and soon Harry began looking for Chuck's cairn.
"Okay," he said, keeping his voice down. "We'll stop here and look around for a bit."
Harry had landed roughly one hundred meters from the cairn. They still hadn't seen any magical creatures and Millicent was becoming skeptical. Harry didn't know whether Chuck was awake or asleep at that time of day, if he had a preferred time to receive callers or if he was automatically grouchy if awakened before noon. Then there was Griselda, possibly, if she and Chuck were getting along.
Harry walked closer to the cairn, looking and listening for signs that a dragon was stirring beneath their feet.
"Are you a parselmouth, by any chance?" Harry asked.
Millicent froze and stared into Harry's eyes.
"What are you talking about?" she demanded.
"A parselmouth," Harry said.
He was feeling a bit of hostility coming through in Millicent's tone. Unexplained so far, Harry resolved to tread lightly until he understood the source.
"You were there, in Lockhart's dueling club, remember? Malfoy cast serpensortia. Threw that cobra at me. I told it not to attack MacMillan and everyone thought I was telling it to go after him," Harry said.
The memory came back stronger than he anticipated and he stood still, a slight shake of puzzlement taking over for a few seconds.
"I didn't," said Millicent.
Harry looked at Millicent. She looked back.
"You didn't think I wanted him to bite MacMillan?"
Millicent shook her head.
"You understood?"
"Yes. Harry, please don't tell! I shouldn't have said anything. I learned some hard lessons about keeping it to myself," said Millicent as she began to tear up.
"Oh, I won't say anything," said Harry. "It's just nice to know there are some others. What happened to you, if I can ask?"
"Scolding, sent to my room, mostly," said Millicent. "My mother threatened me with a school in a convent but I don't think she really meant it."
Harry shook his head.
"I don't understand," he said. "You're from a magical family. They ought to congratulate you."
"Well, it's a little outside normal, even for a witch," said Millicent.
"Yes, unless you're a wizard who can talk to snakes," said Harry. "I'm going to see if someone is home, under the big rock. If you could stay back a safe distance, just in case."
Millicent looked puzzled but she stepped back as Harry had asked while he pointed his wand and cast wingardia leviosa. He removed the modest boulder that plugged the opening to Chuck's lair.
"Hullo! Anyone at home?" Harry called down the hole.
Harry heard some indecipherable reptile sounds in reply and smiled at Millicent.
"We may be in luck," he said. "Draw your wand and review the steps in your escape plan."
Harry didn't have the necessary background to know he was saying all the right things as far as Millicent Bulstrode was concerned.
The sounds of fierce combustion funneled up from Chuck's cave. Harry was already turned toward Millicent when he heard them so he jumped, hit the ground and rolled. A very respectable ball of flame rose up into the air, leaving a charcoal cloud.
"Thinks someone is coming for his hoard," Harry explained, as he began edging his way back to the cave opening.
"Chuck, it's me, Harry!" he shouted in parseltongue, still keeping clear of the hole. "Is this a bad time?"
"Harry! Why didn't you let me know you were coming? Gris, it's Harry!"
"Ah, Griselda is still here," Harry said. He was pleased but concerned.
"Sorry, Millicent, one more secret to keep. We really does need to stay between ourselves. Remember my Hungarian Horntail from the tournament?"
A scaly snout came out of the hole, sniffing the air. Each inhalation was followed by an exhalation that featured tendrils of flame curling around the dragon's nostrils.
"Harry, give us a minute," said the Apex Predator of the Known Universe.
Within just a few minutes Chuck and Griselda were greeting Harry and Millicent outside the opening to their underground lair and treasure trove. The dragons were very gracious with Millicent, overlooking her parselmouth accent as she attempted to converse in standard dragon and assuring her they expected a few differences. Harry explained that he had been Millicent's date at the Yule Ball just the night before and that they were there for a little Boxing Day outing and courtesy call. When Harry learned Millicent shared his love of magical creatures he knew immediately where they'd ought to go for Boxing Day.
"How romantic!" gushed Griselda. "Dragons don't do that kind of courting, exactly, as you probably know."
"Oh, one wouldn't expect that, would one?" asked Millicent. "Across the species and so on."
She was still a novice to such close contact with dragons and strove mightily not to give offense.
"I'm sure you have an equivalent process," said Millicent. "Something old and very appropriate for dragons."
Griselda looked approvingly at Millicent before glancing at Harry and sending a wink his way.
"Where are our manners, Gris?" asked Chuck, breaking off his conversation with Harry. "Please come in. Would you like a goblet of wine? I have a few bottles salvaged from the Armada…"
The dragons were soon delivering the dragon equivalent of gracious hospitality in their den. Harry and Millicent were too young to be drinking alcohol but Harry decided, for protocol purposes as well as historical research, that he would accept one glass of the Spanish Navy-issue vino. Millicent also accepted a glass, so as not to be the lone holdout.
"Millicent, I don't know if Harry told you how we met and how Griselda got here…" Chuck began.
Millicent shook her head.
"He kind of kept this all private," she said. "For your security."
Griselda nodded at Millicent, pleased with Harry's consideration.
"Well, he just stumbled across the house, way out here and I guess he was curious," Chuck went on. "We sat and talked and wouldn't you know, the next thing he's flying in here like a maniac, bringing Griselda! Not just another dragon to talk to, either, but a Hungarian Horntail! I guess we made eyes at each other then we're discussing all those personal things, you know, don't you?"
"Personal, like mating? Little ones?" asked Millicent.
"Harry, she's a sharp one!" said Griselda.
"I'll say," said Chuck. "Well, anyway, I guess my hoard passed inspection because here we are!"
"So romantic," Harry observed. "So you're thinking about a family?"
"Oh, absolutely!" said Griselda. "We're very lucky. Apex Predator had the business sense to put together such a fine hoard of gold here in a safe spot. Harry got me out of that whole dragon reserve situation. I may be laying an egg one day soon. Most females don't have anyone to help raise the young. This is a very fortunate turn of events for a pair of dragons."
"Can't ask for any more than that," said Harry. "I hate to run but Millicent is expected at her own home soon. Yule calls. Good luck with your family. I hope we can come again, especially if there is a blessed event on the horizon!"
Harry, Millicent and the dragons exchanged good-byes all around, then the humans climbed the short tunnel to the surface. Harry heard fragments of a short conversation between Millicent and Griselda, who naturally wanted to know if Millicent and Harry were mated.
"No?" asked Griselda. "Claws time, Millicent! If you don't dig in, some other female will!"
"We aren't quite of age," Millicent muttered. "Two more years is considered the very minimum and three or four would be better."
Harry caught Chuck eavesdropping. Chuck noticed Harry looking his way and gave him a wink. Chuck leaned in really close and whispered to Harry:
"Next time she's in season, I'd…"
"APEX PREDATOR!" growled Griselda who had obviously overheard enough to object to Chuck's loose tongue.
The scene was too surreal. For some reason Harry pictured Millicent and himself trying to sell listeners on the veracity of their trip to the lair of a pair of Hungarian Horntails and Chuck's relationship advice. It was too much.
"See you soon!" he managed before jerking his head in the direction of the tunnel to the surface, trusting Millicent to follow.
They met outside and struggled to stifle their laughs while Harry placed the granite boulder over the opening to the den. Once back on their brooms and airborne the could loosen up a little.
"Don't get any ideas, Harry Potter," Millicent called across the gap and the sound of the wind rushing past.
"Millicent, I APOLOGIZE! If I'd known I swear…" Harry called back. "Chuck kind of says whatever pops into his head. He has a sense of humor and…and…"
"HARRY! Don't worry about it. I love magical creatures. I never dreamed my date would take me to meet a pair of dragons," exclaimed Millicent, trying to reassure Harry that she wasn't offended.
"Oh," said Harry. "Well, then."
He looked over again, smiling at Millicent before turning to face forward and pay attention to his flying.
Their return to Hogwarts concluded without further drama. They had one chore to finish before Millicent departed for home and her family Yule.
"Better get down to Slytherin and get ready to go home. Happy Yule. I hope you enjoy the rest of break," Harry said as they returned their brooms to the storeroom.
"Thank-you, Harry," said Millicent.
Harry was facing the broom rack so he hadn't noticed when Millicent drew her wand. Furthermore she showed she had excellent door-closing-and-locking technique, just before he turned and she took a firm grasp of Harry's robe, pulling him to her.
"Happy Yule," Millicent said just before her lips fastened onto Harry's and stayed there.
Millicent's hand slid up Harry's back to his head, pulling him closer then moving him around so she could kiss his cheeks, brush her lips across his eyes and ears. Returning to his lips she made a little moan, wordlessly asking him to let her use her tongue if he was not going to use his. Harry figured out what she wanted and they began to explore, tentative little movements becoming bolder, silent offers, acceptance, response. Finally, when Millicent pulled back just a little, she looked into Harry's eyes.
"I do have to collect a few things, before I go," she whispered.
"Probably a good idea," Harry admitted.
He knew she was right.
"Door," he said.
When the light came in with the opening of the door, Harry got his first look at Millicent's face. Her complexion, usually the color of white eggshells, was flushed, her lips red and shiny. She looked at Harry, looking at her, reading his face.
"What? How do I look?" Millicent asked as she removed a tissue from a pocket in her robe.
"Ah…Oh! Fine, really," Harry reassured her, his own face flushing a darker red.
"So I can take your word?" asked Millicent as she dabbed her face here and there.
"Anyone gives you a hard time…" said Harry.
"You aren't going to punch any witches who get snarky, are you, Harry?" she asked. "That's okay, though, I appreciate the effort."
They had reached the stairs that led down to the dungeons. Millicent stopped, laying a flat hand on Harry's chest.
"I had a wonderful time at the ball, and this morning, Harry," Millicent said, her voice audible though meant only for Harry.
Some students Harry recognized as sixth- or seventh-year Hufflepuffs walked by, fighting with themselves not to gawk while actually gawking the whole time.
"I did, too," said Harry. "Enjoy your Yule break. I'll see you when you get back."
"I'd like that," said Millicent, just before she leaned forward and dispensed one very chaste peck to Harry's cheek.
Harry and Millicent heard little gasps which they ignored, concentrating as they were on one another. Harry focused on his date, trying to memorize the moment, the smile, the shiny black hair, the scents of fresh air and a bit of Millicent-sweat she exuded in all of the morning's excitement.
"Better go," he managed to choke out, getting a very dainty snort in return.
"See you in January," she said, turning and going downstairs in a bit of a gallop.
Harry turned, departing for Gryffindor. He ignored the few students hanging around.