Chapter Seventy-Six - The Yule Ball
Most of Slytherin House remained at Hogwarts for the Christmas Holidays. This included students who were too young to attend the Yule Ball without a partner. Most had chosen to remain to enjoy the general festive atmosphere that permeated the school.
Colin Creevy and his friend Pandey were no exception. Harry noticed the two of them sitting in the common room after the term had ended. Pandey had resumed his signing lessons with the merpeople, and now had not one, but three specimens outside their window, watching him closely.
Harry, interested in the progress Pandey was making, joined the pair by the window. Before he could inquire into their conversation, however, Colin had cheerfully announced to Harry that he would be attending the ball.
"Someone invited you?" asked Harry.
"No! I asked Megan Jones if I could go with her," Colin reported without an ounce of embarrassment, "I couldn't go to the ball otherwise! And it worked out well, because Megan's friend Sophie also needed a date, so she's going with Herb."
Megan Jones and Sophie Roper were both Hufflepuffs in Harry's year. He didn't know either of them very well, and he was amazed by Colin's popularity among the students of the other three houses. Harry was also impressed by his courage. Harry had struggled to ask a friend, while Colin appeared to have found a date easily.
It was a relief to be able to respond to Colin's next question, "Who are you taking to the ball, Harry?"
"I'm going with a Ravenclaw," he said, "Eleanor Willoughby."
"Willoughby?" echoed a snide voice behind him.
Harry felt his stomach clench at the sound of Draco Malfoy's drawl. He turned to see his foe lurking near enough to have overheard their entire conversation. Draco returned Harry's sour look with a smile and a condescending shake of his head.
"I'm disappointed in you, Potter. To think a Hogwarts champion will be taking something like that to the ball…"
Harry snapped. He had been waiting for something like this to happen since reintroducing Nell to his friends aboard the Hogwarts Express. He rounded on Draco with his wand drawn so fast that Crabbe and Goyle were unable to jump to their ringleader's defence. Harry could have cursed him on the spot and ensured Draco spent the rest of the holiday in the hospital wing. Instead, he merely held the wand under Draco's nose, deterring further comments from him as Harry unleashed a torrent of pent-up rage.
"I couldn't care less what you think about my date, Malfoy!" he spat angrily, "When will you ever learn to shut up and stay out of my business? I wish I could say I expected more from you, but you've always been a nosy, arrogant tosser! Nell is a better person than you can ever hope to be, and just because she went by another name last year…"
Draco had gone cross-eyed in his attempts to keep Harry's wand in sight, but his eyes snapped back to Harry's as he said this.
"Wait, what?" he interrupted, "You think this is about… No! I would never… I wasn't talking about… I only meant that she's a mudblood!"
All the force of Harry's righteous anger was knocked out of him in an instant. He suddenly felt like he was the one in the wrong, like he had betrayed Nell in some way. All this time, in the back of his mind, he had been thinking about what the Dursleys would say about someone like Nell. His muggle relations were the sort of people who could not stand anything existing outside the bounds of their own narrow, boring little lives. Harry had assumed that Draco would feel the same way. But although Draco had prejudices of his own, he was also of the magical world, where anything was possible. There must be hundreds of witches and wizards in Nell's situation, and it didn't matter to any of them how people dressed or what pronouns they used.
"Oh…" Harry said, deflated. Then he recalled the slur Draco had used to describe Nell, and added, "That's still a really shitty way to talk about people."
Colin, who had been watching the confrontation, let out a laugh when Harry said this. Draco glared at him, but did not have a comeback ready after such a brutal verbal assault. Harry, having nothing more to say to Draco, turned away from him and resumed his seat by Colin and Pandey.
"Well done, Harry," Colin said, waiting until Draco had stalked off with Crabbe and Goyle following behind, "It's about time someone put Malfoy in his place."
Pandey, who had never seemed to idolize Harry the way Colin had in the past, looked at him fully for the first time and said, "That was pretty cool of you… Sticking up for your friend like that."
Harry, embarrassed for losing his temper and jumping to conclusions, did not wish to accept the compliments. He quickly changed the subject back to the merpeople, who had continued to watch the drama that was playing out inside.
"How are the lessons going?" Harry asked, checking a gesture of his hand in case he accidentally signed something rude.
"They've been asking about you," Herb said, "They want to know if you've solved your egg yet?"
Harry let out a groan. Now even the merpeople were harassing him about the damned egg?
"Tell them I can only focus on one task at a time," he said, "I still have to survive the dance first."
Christmas Day arrived at last. Later, Harry would have to face his fate at the Yule Ball. But before it was time to dance, it was time for presents. Harry was surprised to find a gift from Dobby among the pile of packages at the foot of his bed on Christmas morning. It was a homemade scarf. It was horrible and ugly and Harry absolutely loved it. As he put it on over his pajamas, he heard a disgusted noise from Draco's bed.
"Are you responsible for this, Potter?" he asked, throwing a box full of moldy sweets on the floor.
"As if I would get you anything, Malfoy," Harry replied, though he couldn't keep the grin from his face. Apparently, Dobby had left a gift for his old master, as well.
Harry returned to his own presents, making a mental note to find Dobby later and give him something in return. The gift from Sirius and Remus was a penknife. It had attachments to unlock any lock or untie any knot. Harry pocketed this immediately, thinking it might be useful at some point. With the penknife, his father's invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map, Harry felt as though his godfather was promoting Harry to engage in mischief. He hardly needed any encouragement. He was frequently in more trouble than he could manage.
After presents, Harry and Blaise met up with Millie in the common room. They enjoyed a game of exploding snap that lasted most of the morning. The Great Hall was undergoing preparations for the ball that night, and as they still had plenty of time, Harry and Blaise proposed braving the snow to visit Hagrid's cabin for lunch. Millie declined.
"I'd better start getting ready for the dance," she said.
"But it's still early!" protested Harry, "Surely it won't take you that long just to get dressed?"
Millie frowned at him, but before she could reply, Blaise raised another objection, "I didn't think you had a date?"
"I don't," Millie told him casually, "I'm going stag."
Harry secretly admired her bravery, though he grudgingly mentioned that she could have just gone with him.
Millie smiled and playfully replied, "And miss seeing you make a fool of yourself on the dance floor? Not a chance! Anyway, can I borrow your cloak?"
"What? Why?"
"Nevermind why! I just need to borrow it."
Harry agreed, and after a quick trip to fetch the cloak out of his trunk, he deposited it into Millie's care. Mille stuffed it into her school bag, which seemed curiously full at the moment, then she thanked Harry and rushed out the common room entrance. Harry was dumbfounded.
"I thought she said she was going to get ready?" he asked Blaise.
Blaise merely shook his head and said, "Poor thing. She probably wants the cloak so no one will see her going to the dance alone."
Harry felt this was unfair to Millie, but he didn't defend her. He was too busy wishing he could get away with such a stunt, himself. Unfortunately, he didn't think the professors would let him open the ball from under his invisibility cloak. And so it was with a gloomy countenance that he climbed the steps to his dormitory to prepare to meet his fate.
Harry might have been mournful, but Blaise certainly was not. He spent hours preening in front of the mirror, evening fighting with Draco over who got to use it the most. Draco was not satisfied with his hair, and argued that Blaise, who kept his cropped short, had hardly any need to keep checking his appearance.
Harry watched as Blaise adjusted the tie of his formal dress robes for the third time. He still couldn't believe that his friend had not one, but three dates. He asked him about the arrangement again as Blaise made the final adjustments to his cloak.
"No one is forcing them to go with me," Blaise said in response to Harry's suggestion that three dates was a bit selfish, "If they wanted to go with someone else, they could have. But they all chose me."
"They are expecting one another, aren't they?" Harry asked, suddenly wondering if Blaise's dates knew they were one of a set.
"Of course they do!" Blaise declared, clearly offended, "What do I look like, Harry? Some kind of playboy?"
Harry informed him that in his black dress robes and a cloak lined with white satin, a playboy was exactly what he looked like. Harry's own outfit consisted of robes in black and emerald green, compliments of Mrs. Zabini. He had long ago given up doing anything with his hair, and proceeded to the common room. Blaise promised to follow "in just another minute."
There were other students gathered in the common room, mingling before heading up to the Great Hall. Harry amused himself glancing around at everyone's different costumes, then did a double take. There was a group of girls standing near the fireplace, and in the middle of them stood Millie.
Harry almost hadn't recognized her. It was her size that ultimately gave her away. Tall, thickly built, and broad-shouldered, Millie had never been considered a pretty girl. Tonight she was dressed in a gown of forest green, trimmed in silver, the colors of their house. Her long black hair, usually worn down over her shoulders, was now coiled in an elegant plait and pinned up in the back. She was smiling at the girls around her, all of whom were dwarfed by her size, as they complimented the style of her dress.
Millie wasn't pretty. Even Harry's partiality as her best friend could not convince him she was beautiful. No, the word that came to Harry's mind wasn't pretty or beautiful, but regal. Among so many delicate princesses, Millie stood out as a queen.
He would never tell her something so sappy of course, but he might have complimented her another way, had not she met his eye with a look that clearly warned him not to say a word. Harry, always conscious of Millie's wishes, obeyed silently, but Blaise, tripping lightly down the stairs behind Harry, did not get the message.
"Millie?" he called across the room in a tone of surprise, "Is that you? You clean up nice!"
Harry braced himself for the storm that was sure to follow. Millie was the sort to hide her embarrassment behind anger and physical violence. But she was calm tonight, and merely returned Blaise's tactless greeting with arched brows and a cool reply.
"I wish I could tell you the same, but you look just as conceited as usual. How long did you stand in front of the mirror?"
"He was at it for hours," Harry said, happy to diffuse the tension with some lighthearted banter.
"Not that it helped him," Draco said sneeringly. He had come down from their dormitory and pushed past Harry and Blaise at the bottom of the stairs. In his black, high-collared robes, Harry thought he looked a little like a vicar.
Pansy Parkinson detached herself from the group of girls standing near Millie. Harry had been so distracted by the sight of his friend, he hadn't noticed Pansy before that moment. Now she was difficult to ignore in her frilly pink gown. She went to take Draco's arm, and after exchanging a few words, he motioned to Crabbe and Goyle to follow him. Harry exalted in the fact that neither of Malfoy's lackeys had seemed to find partners for the dance, but then he considered Blaise's novel arrangement. It was possible that Crabbe and Goyle had decided to go to the ball together. He suggested this to Blaise, who made a retching sound and said, "Shards of Narsil, Harry! Now I'll have that image in my head all night!"
Millie suggested that they all make their way to the Great Hall. Blaise had taken Daphne Greengrass, the first of his three dates, by the arm and was ready to depart. Harry led the way, anxious to find his own date before the event began.
A crush of people stood outside the entrance to the Great Hall. Some were waiting to file inside while others hobnobbed in the hallway, waiting on friends or searching for their dates. Harry was one of the latter, but it was Nell who spotted him first. She looked very pretty as she made her way toward him. Her dress robes were light blue with a pink sash at her waist. Shimmering white snowflakes cascaded down the skirt, fitting in perfectly with the yuletide theme.
He paid his compliments. She returned them in kind. Then the two of them stood there awkwardly, both unsure what to say at this point. Fortunately, Millie soon joined them, and though she was usually the more quiet of Harry's small circle, the girls soon had plenty to share as they talked about their gowns. Harry continued to glance around the hall, absently observing Blaise. He had located his other two dates and was busy arranging how the four of them would enter the hall together.
"Oh look, there's Hermione with Viktor Krum," Nell observed, almost as if she were looking for something to say to keep the conversation moving.
Harry turned, and for a moment he forgot to breathe. There was Hermione, already shyly leaning on Viktor's arm as he talked with Fleur Delacour, who was attending the ball with a Ravenclaw boy. Fleur, being part veela, had always been lovely, but now Hermione could hold her own against the Beauxbatons beauty. She was dressed in a periwinkle blue gown. Her hair, usually large and bushy, now seemed smoother, the individual curls more pronounced, and styled in such a way that Harry couldn't quite keep his eyes off it.
"This night is already full of surprises," Blaise said. He approached with his own party, now assembled to the best advantage. Blaise and Yuri Poliakoff stood in the middle, each with a girl on their outside arm. "Who would have thought Granger would turn out to look so good? Krum has excellent taste."
"How did she get her hair to look like that?" Harry asked aloud, still fascinated.
It was Millie's turn to look smug, "That's why I needed your cloak. I sneaked into the Gryffindor tower. Blaise's mum gave me a few tips to style Hermione's hair. She did mine, as well."
Jamila Kirmani, Blaise's date from Beauxbatons, did not seem interested in listening to her date compliment other girls. She lightly pulled on his arm and requested in heavily accented English to proceed into the Great Hall. By that time, most of the other students had managed to work their way into the crowded room, and the ball was due to start at any time. Blaise led his dates forward with Millie trailing along after.
Harry was about to follow them, when Professor McGonagall, dressed in tartan robes, swam into view and ordered the champions to line up with their dates. Harry nodded a greeting to Viktor, then caught Hermione's eye. They exchanged a smile, but before Harry could say anything about her altered appearance, they were ordered to march into the Great Hall. Harry remembered at the last moment to offer Nell his arm, then they were being paraded in front of the rest of the school, where they were greeted with applause.
The Great Hall had been completely transformed for the event. The usual pine trees towered over everything, resplendent in enchanted snow and glimmering lights. The long house tables had been cleared away, replaced by several smaller, circular tables with candles arranged attractively in the center. Harry cherished a hope that he would be able to enjoy the Christmas feast with his friends, but instead they were shown to a table where the Triwizard judges were already placed. Bagman was there, dressed in robes with stars on them. He almost expected Mrs. Zabini to accompany him, but she was conspicuously absent. Instead, Madame Maxime sat at Bagman's side. She had exchanged her usual black velvet dress for robes of lavender. Harry's notice passed over Karkaroff, who looked much the same as usual, and came to rest not on Mr. Crouch, but on Percy Weasley.
The former Head Boy had graduated the year prior. Harry assumed he had taken a job at the Ministry for Magic, but what he was doing in Mr. Crouch's place, Harry could not guess. That is, until he accepted a seat next to Mr. Bagman, and overheard Percy explaining to Karkaroff that he had been promoted to Mr. Crouch's personal assistant.
"I'm afraid Mr. Crouch hasn't been doing well since the World Cup," he was saying, "It's hardly surprising. Overwork is what I say. And he's not as young as he was, though still quite brilliant, of course. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole MInistry, and then Mr. Couch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehavior of that house elf of his, Blinky, or whatever she was called…"
Karkaroff looked as if he couldn't care less what Percy was saying. He had been too busy looking at Hermione and Krum with an expression of disapproval. But when Percy mentioned Winky, though he had forgotten her name, Karkaroff appeared to take notice.
"House elf?" he asked, "What do you mean by misbehavior?"
Percy had the presence of mind to look ashamed. He seemed to recall that he was speaking to the representative of a foreign school, and that Mr. Crouch may not want his personal matters spread abroad, particularly when they involved the horrible appearance of the Dark Mark. He attempted to smooth over the matter, adding quickly, "He dismissed her immediately afterward. As I say, he's getting on, but he needs looking after. With the elf gone…"
"Where did she go?" Karkaroff asked pryingly.
Percy stiffly informed Karkaroff that he didn't concern himself with the status of disgraced house elves, then turned to Madame Maxime on his other side. Karkaroff had proven an unsympathetic listener, and he hoped the headmistress of Beauxbatons would show a greater interest in the health of his employer.
Harry, disgusted by the way Percy spoke of Winky, turned away from this conversation. If Mrs. Zabini was successful, then Winky would be employed in the Hogwarts kitchens by this time. Harry thought again of Dobby, and wondered if he should ask his elf friend if they had taken on any new workers.
His mind having drifted to the kitchens, Harry suddenly became aware of how hungry he was. He'd been so nervous for the ball, he'd hardly eaten anything that day. He began staring at the empty golden plate in front of him, wondering when the food would be served. There were small menus lying in front of each of them, and Harry began to wonder whether they would see a few house elves taking requests from the tables. Dumbledore, however, looked over his own menu and then said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"
His order appeared directly, and Harry realized he'd been foolish. Dobby had said himself that the elves at Hogwarts were meant to be unseen. The rest of the table followed the headmaster's example, and soon the feast was well underway. Throughout the meal, Harry glanced occasionally at Hermione and Viktor. They were seated across the table, too far for Harry to talk to them, but they seemed to be enjoying each other's company.
Nell was politely conversing with Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw student Cedric had invited to the ball. Being of the same house, they shared many acquaintances, and seemed perfectly content to gossip about their mutual friends and their dates to the ball. Cedric took the opportunity to lean closer to Harry and muttered, "Been working on your egg, Harry? Any luck yet?"
Harry was about to reply, when Cho overheard him and interrupted, "I warned you! No talk of the tournament tonight!"
Cedric looked as if he wanted to say more to Harry, but Cho had directed a look toward the judges. If Cedric was overheard talking to Harry about the clue, they might both be accused of conspiring on the next task. The Hufflepuff champion settled for giving Harry a wink, and suggested in a low voice that they should have a chat later.
Harry wondered what this could mean. Had Cedric solved the riddle? He was dying to know more, but all around the hall people were finishing their plates, and the tables were being cleared. The dreaded moment had arrived.
The other champions rose from their seats as one, as if following a cue that Harry alone hadn't noticed. He climbed quickly to his feet and awkwardly shambled after them, realizing too late that he should have spent some time learning to dance.
"I don't know what I'm doing," Harry furtively confessed to Nell as they followed the others to the dance floor.
Nell looked at him with sympathetic concern, "Would it be better if I lead?"
"Please," Harry said gratefully, and accepted Nell's quick instruction on where to place his hands.
It was not as bad as Harry expected. The music began, and he was so focused on not stepping on Nell's feet that he barely noticed when Dumbledore invited McGonagall to dance. Before long, the dance floor was filled with other students, and the Champions were lost among the crowd. With no one staring at him, the first dance went well, and before he knew it they were already dancing another. Nell was a surprisingly good dancer, and Harry was actually enjoying himself.
His pleasure only increased when he noticed Millie dancing with a boy from Durmstrang not far off. She was too tall for many of the boys in their class, but there were plenty of older students from the foreign schools who could match Millie. In fact, when Harry took a break after the third dance, he noticed Millie was still busy, now dancing with a student from Beauxbatons.
He went to grab drinks for himself and Nell, who was resting at a table after confessing that she was not used to wearing heels, even ones that were made for dancing. Along the way, he noticed Hermione dancing with Krum, still looking as stunning as she had the first moment he saw her.
He returned to the table where Nell was waiting, and after passing her a drink asked, "Do you think it would be rude to ask Krum if I can cut in?"
"You mean to dance with Hermione?" Nell asked. She did not sound offended by the suggestion of his leaving her, merely interested.
"Yes. I mean, it would be nice to dance with her… As friends of course."
"Of course," Nell repeated with a knowing smile, but she advised him against it.
Not everyone was as happy as Millie and Hermione appeared to be. Blaise soon found Harry and Nell and collapsed into a chair next to them.
"Was the dance too fatiguing?" Harry asked, grabbing a napkin from the table and fanning it over Blaise teasingly. Blaise didn't seem to mind the slight breeze.
"Three dates might have been too ambitious," he said, "I'm having to cater to everyone's ego. If I dance with one, the other two start bickering over who gets the next dance. Nevermind that I'm already exhausted!"
Harry noticed that Daphne was not far off. She seemed to be searching the room for her missing date. Mentioning this to Blaise, he suggested they step outside for a bit of fresh air. Blaise seized on the opportunity. Nell got up to join them, but at that moment was approached by Oliver Rivers, another Ravenclaw student, who asked her to dance.
"Do you mind, Harry?" she asked.
"Not at all," Harry asked, though he did wonder why it was alright for Nell to dance with her friend when he couldn't ask Hermione, "I'll catch up with you later. If you see Millie, can you tell her where we've gone?"
"If she asks," Nell said with a smile, "But she seems just fine on her own."
Outside the castle, they found that the grounds had been transformed into a literal fairy garden. Colored lights adorned small shrubberies that had seemed to sprout up overnight. All around them were rose bushes in full bloom, in spite of the winter snow. Scattered throughout the labyrinthine paths were large ice sculptures and here and there a carved bench. Blaise and Harry did their best to avoid the couples who had taken to the garden to enjoy a romantic stroll. Eventually, they found an unoccupied bench on one side of a large fountain that emitted jets of heated air rather than water.
They had barely settled down when they heard two voices in fierce discussion.
"You can't keep ignoring the signs, Severus!"
"I am not ignoring them, Karkaroff. It's been getting clearer for months. But what do you propose I do about it?"
Snape and Karkaroff. Harry and Blaise looked at each other quizzically. What business did the headmaster of Durmstrang have with their Potions Master?
"Something is happening," Karkaroff continued, his voice quiet but just as urgent as before, "Things are moving again… You must have felt…"
"If you're afraid, then flee," Snape interrupted, a hard edge to his voice.
Karkaroff laughed then. It was a harsh, almost hysterical laughter. Harry felt a shiver run up his spine that had nothing to do with the cold night air.
"I have no intention of hiding, Severus. But what will you do?"
"I? I will remain at Hogwarts, as I have always done…"
Harry had not realized the pair were so close until Snape rounded the corner of the nearest shrub and nearly ran into them. Harry did not like the expression that came over the Potions Master's face when he recognized them, as if Harry had been caught in the act of something illegal.
"You two!" He said, gesturing angrily at them with his wand, "What are you doing here?"
"Sitting," Harry replied, pointing out the obvious.
"Is it against the rules to sit?" Blaise added, unwilling to have Harry be the only one to face Snape's wrath.
Snape did not respond to this question. Flicking his wand in the direction of the castle, he ordered them both to get moving again. They had not been outside long, but Harry was in no mood to argue. He didn't like the way Karkaroff was glaring at him, angry at being overheard. He nudged Blaise, and they obediently rose to their feet.
"Wait!" Snape called at the last minute. Harry turned back, wondering if he was going to take away some points from Gryffindor for old times' sake. Instead, the professor asked, "Who did you take to the ball?"
"Eleanor Willoughby," Harry replied, unsure of why he asked in the first place.
"Willoughby?" Snape said with a frown, "That's going to upset the betting pool."