It's All Just Temporary with a Bit of Necromancy

by TC.Hand

Harry gets his magical inheritance as a Necromancer, the first in centuries. Unsure of his future or even who to trust after the Light shuns him, Harry turns to the Dark, the only other side that can assist him in seeking his revenge. However, it's all just temporary. It's just an alliance until his goals are met and then that's it. Just temporary...right?

36. Chapter Thirty-Five: Perfect Great

Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!

Super long chapter. Like incredibly long. But many POVs. This is Marvolo's Yule Ball. Most of it is a bit fluffy but Harry finally has a realization about his feelings.

There is a bit of cursing in this chapter. There has been in other chapters too but I feel like there is a bit more in this one, maybe not but just a heads up if people don't like that.

Like I said, super long chapter but I hope you enjoy it. The next chapter might just cover the rest of the Yule break. We still have the Malfoy Ball and Marvolo's birthday and Neville's parents. So, still, a lot to happen but I'm going to try and write it all in one chapter. We shall see.

Thank you again to all of you for sticking with me through this story. It has grown so much since I first started writing it and I can't wait to see it to the end. Again, it will probably be a post a month due to my busy schedule but I'll do what I can. Happy 4th of July weekend!

---

Perfect. Great.

The ballroom was resplendent. Fairy lights draped along the walls like hanging icicles, and a few floating balls of light hovered along the ceiling. A small, intimately sized, orchestra played in the far corner. Each instrument charmed to magically play without assistance. Discretion had been necessary for this ball and so Narcissa hadn't been able to hire an actual orchestra — an orchestra of an appropriate size for the prestige and grandeur demanded of this ball. The Dark Lord, in all of his immense power and gracious benefactory, had charmed the instruments himself to play all night. So Narcissa was confident that the music wouldn't falter and that each song would be to her Lord's taste and preference. French doors had been constructed into the far wall for this night only and they led into the Dark Lords' gardens. There were three ice sculptures out there and subtle warming charms encasing the area that people were allowed to roam, making it comfortable enough to stroll around outside but the charms weren't strong enough to actually melt the snow.

Slushy grounds due to melted snow were just not done.

The Dark Lords' ballroom had been converted into a pristine winter wonderland. Narcissa Malfoy observed her work with her head tilted high. She might be a pureblood heiress — the epitome of pureblood perfection — and it was unbecoming to showcase such frivolous emotions, but a small measure of pride was acceptable and necessary. Especially after the headache she'd suffered when putting it all together. Honestly, the reluctance of Potter dragging his feet in organizing his own ball and then the Dark Lord's revulsion in regards to decorating strategies...it was a miracle that Narcissa had managed to finalize anything. The Malfoy New Year's Eve Ball luckily was the easiest of the three.

Lucius stood next to her looking just as handsome as he did on their wedding day almost two decades ago. His midnight blue robes complimented her own, as they had been designed to do. Narcissa had poured over dress robe designs for three days deciding which style would be best to wear to the Dark Lords' Yule Ball, just as she'd done for the robes for her own ball and for Potter's ball. She couldn't have anything last season, the embarrassment would be horrendous, and she couldn't choose anything too new, just in case the style never became a success. Narcissa Malfoy could not be seen in something that never became a trend. She had finally settled on her choice and the numerous compliments she received from all the other wives were accepted with a humble, gracious smile.

"Beautiful work, my dear," Lucius said, surveying the people as they arrived and mingled.

The two of them stood next to the large doors that everyone entered through that connected to the foyer, allowing them the chance to greet everyone who arrived. The rest of the manor was warded off so no one could go anywhere but the foyer, ballroom, and the designated section of the gardens. Most of the attendees had arrived already, allowing Narcissa to observe them as they mingled together. The Dark Lord had always favored punctual followers and attending the first ball held for the Dark in over a decade was a worthy occasion, so many had arrived early.

As the hostess, Narcissa had needed to be at the ball before anyone else, and as her husband, and the Dark Lords' Left Hand, Lucius had needed to be there with her. Draco, her darling boy, her little miracle, had only just arrived with his friends. Though the group of friends had obviously expanded due to recent events. Narcissa watched her sweet son mingling with his normal group of housemates and the people Potter had invited but refused to tell her the names of.

She understood Potters' desire to keep his allies secret but honestly, it was beyond rude to withhold information from the hostess. How could she pull off a worthy and extravagant enough ball under such limiting conditions? Narcissa sniffed. It didn't matter now, of course, because, as always, she had done the impossible and the ball looked exceptional.

Staring at the flaming hair of the four Weasley's and the bushy-haired muggleborn — though her hair, admittedly, was smoothed and pulled back in a rather nice chignon — that her dear Draco had told her so much about, Narcissa sniffed. She obviously needn't have tried so hard to please the unknown guests. The ruffians probably would have considered a buffet and a couple snowflakes a rousing success.

Narcissa pursed her lips and looked away, chastising herself. Potters' allies were necessary for the Dark to succeed. And she supposed it was admirable of the Weasley's to forgo their long-standing loyalty to the Light in order to support Potter. And Draco was always talking about how the muggleborn was beating him on tests, so the girl obviously had the intelligence to make up for her lack of lineage. Those things in mind, Narcissa smiled once more. Yes, loyalty and intelligence were qualities she could support.

She spotted Elladora Zabini standing with Rosemary Parkinson and Aurora Greengrass. Soon she would need to speak with Elladora about her son's intentions with the Weasley tart. Just last year she remembered Pansy and Daphne commenting on how the girl had dated numerous boys during the school year. Narcissa understood working civilly with Potter's allies while attending school together, but escorting one of them — especially one with such a reputation? — was an adventurous line to cross. Was Elladora even aware of the potential scandal her son was flirting with?

A small house-elf appeared next to her. "Yes?" Narcissa asked, not bothering to look at the little creature. Her eyes focused on the attendees, determining who had worn last season's robes and who would be worth inviting to her next weekly afternoon tea session. Draco had explained to her that Potter was touchy about house elves, as was the muggleborn, but Narcissa didn't understand why she would need to cater to its every whim.

"Great Master and Master Death Master are wanting to enter, missus," the elf squeaked, its head bowed subserviently, its uniform neatly cleaned and pressed.

"See to it that everyone has a glass of champagne," she ordered before striding forward. Lucius matched her steps and her hand remained delicately placed on the crook of his arm. She flicked her wand to release a series of chiming bell sounds calling everyone's attention once she reached the center of the ballroom. The guests lined the edges of the room or were already sitting at the tables — so tactless — shifted to see her better, those at the tables thankfully standing. "It pleases me to see you all here tonight to celebrate the Yule season, and so many new faces too," she said pleasantly, allowing her eyes to briefly sweep over Potters' friends. "However, before we continue, it is time to welcome our guests of honor."

Everyone shifted to face the side door that was normally tucked into the far corner during meetings. The Dark Lord had transfigured the small, unassuming door into an impressive double door of dark wood and stained glass windows.

"If we could all raise our glasses for the Darks' most honored ally," Narcissa said, lifting her glass of champagne, the movement echoed by everyone else. "Lord Potter-Black-Peverell, and our beloved leader, the Dark Lord."

The doors opened and Harry Potter strode through the transfigured doors. Narcissa inwardly applauded the boy. He certainly looked the part. And if her sources were accurate, which they always were, the boy would be named the upcoming year's most eligible bachelor. A fitting accolade, she thought, watching as Potter stood looking regal with those captivating green eyes matching his silken green robes and sparkling with the reflection of the fairy lights. The Dark Lord walked out next to Potter and Narcissa gasped when she saw her Lord, Lucius choked slightly beside her, and it was only years of pureblood etiquette training that kept her from dropping her champagne flute.

---

Blaise stood proudly in his new dress robes, sipping on his flute of champagne. The robes were a dark blue that complimented his Italian skin well. His mother gave them to him for this ball specifically. Yesterday they had enjoyed a private Christmas with just the two of them. She was between husbands at the moment and Blaise always enjoyed those holidays best. It was like when he was a child. For most of his younger years, his mother had remained single to dedicate most of her time to raising him. But when he turned nine she began remarrying. Luckily, Blaise was at Hogwarts for the length of most of the marriages, so he usually didn't have to interact with his step-fathers too often. He hadn't bothered to learn the name of the most recent one, he'd looked like a greasy prat on the wedding day and Blaise had steered clear.

He laughed as Ginny retold a story about a prank her brothers played on their Great Aunt Muriel. The others in their group were hanging on her words and she shone under the attention. Well except for Daphne and Theo, who were both off whispering together and being sickeningly betrothed, and Lovegood who was gazing at the fairy lights with a lost smile on her face. The twins probably would have added to the story but they were off with the rest of Potter's guard a few paces away regaling that group with stories of their own. Drawing attention seemed to be an inherited Weasley trait.

Ginny's eyes danced as she gestured wildly with one hand, the other hand holding tight to his arm. Blaise thought she looked breathtaking in her dress robes. Ginny had gone daring in her choice of style, exactly as Blaise had come to expect. There was nothing demure or cautious about Ginny Weasley, it was one of the things that drew him to her. She was a blazing fire among flickering candles. The bright blue of the form-flattering robes brought out the red of her hair. The diamond hairpiece his mother had given her for the occasion practically glowed under the fairy lights every time she moved her head.

Blaise had breathed a sigh of relief earlier that day when he had introduced Ginny to his mother. Ginny had gotten ready at his manor because his mother had insisted on dressing his date in order to make sure his date met the high Zabini standards. Apparently, Ginny had argued with her mother over it but had won in the end. The compromise was that Ginny wasn't allowed to attend the after-party at the Black manor safehouse Potter had created.

"Don't worry," Ginny had assured him with her eyes twinkling mischievously. "I told mum that the ball would be over around three."

"The ball's over at midnight," Blaise had said slowly.

Ginny had smiled sweetly and patted his cheek. "Why yes, yes it is." And then she'd been whisked away by his mother and returned looking even more like a goddess than she normally did. The only times she ever looked more lovely was whenever she was fresh from a Quidditch victory or after winning a duel, when she would smile wildly, victoriously, her face flushed from the exertion.

Blaise had worried about what Ginny and his mother would do when they finally met; both were independent and headstrong and neither were much for catering to the whims of others. Blaise had worried they would clash but surprisingly, thankfully, they had gotten along well. Maybe too well, he thought with a slight frown as he remembered how the two had descended the staircase after getting dressed up, whispering and giggling together.

He and Ginny had arrived about ten minutes ago and joined their friends standing in a loose circle, only Neville and Luna arriving after them. All of the Gryffindors cleaned up well, Blaise thought approvingly. Hermione wore simple but refined dress robes with her curls smoothed back. Ron wore nice robes as well and Blaise felt guilty wondering if it was a gift from his brothers or Potter. Lovegood wore a strange-looking ensemble of pale yellow and pink that he had come to expect from her in the months he'd gotten to know her. Neville had grown up attending things like this so Blaise wasn't surprised to see him so well put together. Ron had glared at him when he and Ginny had walked up but an elbow to his side by Hermione had curtailed any fights. Blaise wasn't looking forward to returning to school though. He was certain Ron would have something to say about him escorting his baby sister. They weren't actually dating but Blaise hoped tonight might change that.

A house-elf appeared in the center of the group with a tray of champagne glasses and insisted they all get new glasses. Hermione stared at the little elf and Blaise saw her gathering steam to start on a tirade but Ron headed her off by grabbing a flute and shoving it into her hands, leaning close to whisper something in her ear. Whatever he said worked because Hermione huffed and stayed silent.

The chiming of bells called their attention and then Draco's mum was announcing Potter and the Dark Lord. Blaise choked on his breath when he saw Potter and the Dark Lord enter the ballroom. The Dark Lord was bloody human! Sure, the red eyes were still there but he was most definitely human.

Ginny sucked in a breath next to him. He glanced at her and saw her looking incredibly pale, her freckles standing out even more prominently. "Ginny?" he asked quietly. The Dark Lord began speaking, some welcoming speech but he couldn't pay attention because his focus was on Ginny. "You okay?" She stood frozen, staring at Potter and the Dark Lord, she looked more and more like a ghost with each passing moment. The volume of the ballroom rose as the Dark Lords' speech ended with a loud cheer and conversations resumed. "Ginny?" Blaise repeated and gave her a small shake. Ginny blinked and tore her gaze away from Potter and the Dark Lord to look at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she squeaked. "Perfect. Great." She downed her flute of champagne in one go, swapped his with hers, and downed that one too.

"You certainly seem great," he said dryly. A house-elf appeared and replaced their champagne flutes wordlessly. Blaise took Ginny's from her before she could drain that too. Champagne wasn't high in alcohol content but chugging multiple glasses would still affect her, especially since dinner hadn't been served yet.

"Um...did you ever hear anything about my First Year? Your Second Year?"

"The Chamber of Secrets and petrification stuff?" Ginny nodded, her eyes flitting back to where Potter and the Dark Lord were mingling with some of the higher-ranked Death Eaters. "I mean not much. Potter saved the day or something and no more petrifications."

"Is that all you heard?" she asked quietly. Blaise nodded slowly. He was getting a bit concerned now. Ginny seemed scared. And that didn't match with any perception Blaise had of her. Ginny Weasley was too vivacious to be scared. "Good, good. Um...I'll be back. I've just got to, yeah, I'll be back." And then she was leaving for the gardens; weaving through the crowd with a speed and efficiency that reminded him of when she rode a broom.

Blaise frowned after her. What had he missed? Should he chase after her? Did she want him to? They weren't dating but maybe if he chased after her then she would be more inclined to accept when he asked her….maybe it would result in the opposite, maybe she'd think he was smothering her… Blaise swallowed. His concern grew the longer his feet stayed frozen in place. What did he do in this situation? He'd never been a man of action, he was a man of observation. He was a Slytherin, not a bloody Gryffindor. He shook his head, no, something had upset her and he needed to find out what was wrong; regardless of how it might benefit him. Ginny was a person, a person he cared for greatly. This was a moment that required action. Nodding to himself, Blaise tossed back the champagne he'd taken from Ginny.

"Hey, guys!" Potter said, popping up between Goyle and Longbottom.

Goyle's face turned beet red, which did the larger man no favors. Longbottom threw an arm over Potter's shoulder and the two exchanged a look that held a lot of weight. Blaise remembered reading in the papers about how Longbottoms' parents had finally passed away and there was speculation about it because apparently Potter had been spotted at St. Mungo's on that very same day. Judging by the looks exchanged, Blaise was willing to assume the speculations were on the right track.

Greetings were passed around, along with compliments on Potter's appearance, and Blaise turned his focus on Potter for the moment. Maybe he would know what was wrong with Ginny... Potter had been involved with the Chamber stuff, hadn't he?

Potter blushed at the compliments and Blaise smirked. It was endlessly amusing to get Potter flustered. Considering how much power Potter wielded in all senses of the word, it didn't make sense for Potter to get so easily flustered by praise but apparently, that was the way to off-foot the wizarding savior turned Necromancer turned political savant. Potter did look good though, his robes were a shimmering emerald that made his eyes glow. He was easily spotted in the crowd. No one else wore such vivid green robes and Blaise wondered if that had been done on purpose. His hair was styled in a purposefully messy way, the edges trimmed short with the top long enough to cover most of his infamous scar. It was a good look for him.

"Harry, what's with the Dark Lord looking...well...like that," Pansy finally asked in a momentary lull between greetings. She had slid up to Potter's side and was staring at him with wide doe eyes with a flirtatious smile. Potter didn't even blink an eye at her, instead, he turned his head, eyes immediately landing on the Dark Lord who was talking with some of his Inner Circle.

"It's what he normally looks like. He just does the snakey monster look to scare the minions," Potter said, turning back to the group. The minions? Blaise wondered in astonishment.

"Why is he showing us how he looks now though?" Draco asked while Astoria Greengrass clung to his arm. She looked pretty tonight, Blaise thought, but she stayed quiet. Two years younger than the rest of them, and not fully involved in the war effort or what they were doing at the school, Astoria didn't have much to contribute. Blaise knew that Draco's parents were considering Astoria for Draco's future bride and Draco had promised to escort her as a way to determine if he found her compatible. She seemed a bit awestruck at the company though, her pretty blue eyes staring at Potter and a pink flush coating her neck.

"Oh, I convinced him to come as he is," Potter said casually, his eyes a little distant as though lost in the memory.

"You convinced him?" Draco repeated slowly, staring hard at Potter. It was a look Blaise had seen when Draco was in the midst of unraveling a complex potions' problem but finding that the answer didn't make sense.

Potter reddened a bit but shrugged as though indifferent. "Yeah. I mean he has so many wards up to provide secrecy for you guys," he nodded to his Gryffindor friends, "so I told him to utilize the secrecy. Plus I told him that I didn't want to dance with a snake monster, so he'd either have to go as himself or I wouldn't dance with him."

Blaise blinked. What the hell? So much to unpack in that statement and he didn't even know where to start or if he wanted to.

"You're going to dance with him?" Tracey asked faintly.

"Yeah. He said it was expected of allies to share at least one dance."

Blaise didn't think that was an actual thing, but who was he to argue with the Dark Lord? Hermione, Ron, Draco, Daphne, and Theo looked equally as skeptical but stayed silent.

"Harry, is that a snake?" Pansy squeaked breathlessly, her eyes focused on Potter's forearm. Blaise swallowed when he saw that, yes indeed, Potter had a golden snake wrapped around his arm and mostly hidden under the long emerald sleeve.

Potter grinned brightly. "Yeah, this is Raaja. Ma-erm-Voldemort got him for me for Christmas yesterday. Isn't he beautiful?" Potter hissed something and the golden snake raised its head to flick its tongue at the group. The Dark Lord got Potter a Christmas present...the impact of that statement luckily wasn't lost on just him, judging by the others exchanged looks.

Draco, Daphne, Theo, Luna, and Goyle leaned closer to appropriately praise the snake.

"So did you guys have a good Yule?" Potter asked as the snake ducked underneath his sleeve once again.

That set the conversation going again. Blaise took this chance to work his way around the group to Potter's side. Draco was bragging about the new potions kit that he had gotten and the rare and expensive ingredients that had gone with it.

"Could we talk in private later?" Blaise heard Potter ask Hermione quietly.

Hermione frowned, the two of them slightly turned away from the group for some additional privacy. Longbottom and Weasley formed a small barrier for added protection. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Potter ran a hand through his hair. "At least I think so. I just needed to bounce something off you and Ginny, maybe Luna too?"

"Of course, Harry. Just let me know when."

Potter nodded and glanced around. "Where is Ginny?"

"She was just…" Hermione turned to search as well and trailed off with a frown. "She was with Blaise…"

"She ran off," Blaise said, stepping closer to join the conversation. Hermione jumped slightly at his arrival, Potter didn't jump but turned to stare at him.

"She ran off?" Potter repeated, frowning. "That doesn't sound like her. What happened?"

Blaise shrugged, still holding one full and one empty champagne glass. "I don't know. Everything was fine until you and the Dark Lord showed up and then Ginny went all pale and scared and ran off."

"Did she say anything?" Potter asked. The rest of the group obviously noticed that something wasn't right. Draco's story about what new potions he planned to brew in the coming week faded, and the others turned to listen to the conversation as well.

"Something about her First Year," Blaise said with a helpless shrug. He didn't know what it meant but Potter obviously did, judging by the sharp breath and the guilty look that overtook his face. Potter really needed to work on concealing his emotions, his face was an open book. Hermione gasped and reached out to grip Ron's arm as if in reflex and Ron looked pale and sick.

"Fuck," Potter swore, hand running through his hair again. "What way did she go?" he asked, grabbing at Blaise's arms; green eyes blazing with an overpowering intensity that Blaise could only point soundlessly towards the gardens with the hand holding the empty champagne flute. Potter tore off in that direction without hesitation, before turning briefly to say, "Tell Marvolo, I'll be right back." And then Potter was gone just as quickly as Ginny had been.

Blaise stared after them before turning to the rest of the group, all of them looking equally stunned. Well, his housemates did. Ron and Hermione seemed to know what was happening, their eyes remaining in the direction of the doors looking concerned and worried and having a quiet whispered conversation. Hermione seemed to be convincing Ron from running after Potter.

"Hermione, Ron, you know what that was about?" Daphne asked, pinning the two Gryffindors with a sharp glare.

"Wait," Blaise said after a moment, interrupting before Hermione and Ron could start explaining anything. "Who the bloody hell is Marvolo?"

The others shrugged. Hermione again looked like she knew something the others didn't. Her lips pursed and her eyes gleaming. The moment didn't last long though because soon the topic returned to the events of Second Year.

"We won't talk about it here," Ron said firmly, purposefully looking at the crowd surrounding them. "During the after-party, maybe."

That seemed to satisfy most of them and the group dissolved into smaller chattering groups. Theo appeared at Blaises' side. "You okay with Potter going after your girl like that?"

Blaise frowned and took a sip from his flute of champagne. "Why wouldn't I be? She's not my girl, she's her own person."

Theo shrugged, his dark eyes glinting. Blaise and Theo usually got on well, two relatively quiet Slytherins, more content to watch than engage. But Theo had an instigator's streak that made Blaise hate him, just a bit. "No reason. It's just the little Weasley did have that huge crush on Potter, remember, and now he's gone off to comfort her over something only they apparently know about."

"She doesn't have a crush on him anymore. Thinks of him as a brother," Blaise said dismissively, his eyes watching Luna flutter her hands wide as she talked about some nonsense creature to Crabbe and Goyle, but he wasn't really listening.

Theo nodded but said with a thoughtful sigh, "But, you know, 'tis the holiday season and all, who knows what feelings could spark unsuspectingly, innocently."

"Shove off Theo before I punch you," Blaise muttered, draining his champagne fully. Theo flashed him a toothy grin but did take a step away. When the house-elf arrived to refill the two empty glasses, Blaise refused and just had the creature take the glasses away.

"Where is Lord Potter?" The voice was deep and caused shivers up and down Blaise's spine.

The group immediately fell silent, like they'd been cursed. The Dark Lord stood a few feet away, his red eyes just as terrifying as the other three times Blaise had seen them, even if the face looked different. Blaise swallowed thickly and clenched his robes in his fists. They'd been ordered not to fully kneel for the ball but they all, even the Gryffindors, bowed low. Well, the Gryffindors didn't bow exactly, but they did dip their heads and bend their knees a bit. It seemed even the foolhardy had sense...except for Potter. Blaise didn't think he'd ever seen Potter bow to anyone.

Raising from their bows, the group stared at the Dark Lord with wide eyes, each too scared to even exchange glances. Poor little Astoria looked close to fainting. The Dark Lord frowned, a sneer twisting his lips. "I asked a question and I expect to be answered."

"He just left," Granger said, the words rushing out as though she was physically incapable of denying an authority figure an answer.

The Dark Lords' red gaze pinned Granger to the spot, and Blaise wouldn't be surprised if the Dark Lord had cast some kind of petrification spell in doing so. Granger stood stiff, eyes wide and fearful, her chest rising rapidly, but holding her head up, instead of cowering like Blaise probably would have been doing.

Since the attention wasn't on him, Blaise took the chance to examine this human form of the Dark Lord. The smooth, pale, flawless skin paired with elegantly styled — almost old-fashioned in style — dark hair screamed intimidation. The dark robes looked darker than the night which made the strange glint of gold and silver around his neck catch Blaise's eye. He wondered briefly at what the interlocking chains might mean.

"You are, Miss Granger, yes?" Granger blinked rapidly but did jerk her head in a nod, a small 'eep' escaping her lips. The Dark Lord cast his eyes over her and made a noncommittal noise, his face a perfect mask carved from stone. "Do you care to tell me where he left too or must I commence a hunt?"

"He went after Ginny," Ron said, shifting a half step forward to draw attention off of Hermione and onto himself — a stupidly Gryffindor move.

"And why did he do this?" The Dark Lord asked, he spoke quietly. Each word barely above a whisper but holding such authority that Blaise couldn't imagine not answering. "The full story. I do not enjoy dragging out the details."

"She was upset and Harry knew why, so he went to comfort her," Ron continued, his voice trembling slightly. Blaises' heart beat hard in his chest, his own mouth dry. He never would have been able to speak so clearly. He felt a bit lightheaded. Please don't let him pass out, he pleaded silently.

The Dark Lords' magic flared out briefly and Blaise gasped at the painful shock it gave him, like pure electricity jolting every nerve. The red eyes burned furiously. Then the moment was gone. The red eyes looked cold and unfeeling once again and the Dark Lords' magic was restricted once again. The Dark Lord cast his gaze over each of them once again and twisted in a flurry of motion and disappeared back into the crowd.

"Bloody hell," Ron cursed and slumped over, reaching blindly for Hermione's hand which she offered readily.

"You said it," Tracey breathed, slumping a little herself. It seemed the only action to do, after being held so stiffly in his presence that once he left it only made sense to relax their postures.

"Just temporary, huh?" Blaise heard Ron mutter quietly to Hermione who smirked.

---

"Bloody hell, I can see what's got Harry all turned about," George snickered behind his champagne flute into his brother's ear. The only reason Flora heard it was because she was standing so close.

The entire group had fallen silent upon the entrance of Potter and the Dark Lord. Flora had starred in stunned astonishment at the sight of the Dark Lord. He was human, he was handsome. Flora caught her sisters' eye, a raised eyebrow and a slight tilt to her head, and smirked. Hestia giggled, turning her head into Marcus's shoulder to muffle the sound.

The shocked silence faded, the Dark Lord gave a speech which had Flora's spirits lifting and her hopes rising, and then conversation renewed as the Dark Lord and Potter began to speak with the guests. Fred and George commenced the story they had been telling before the interruption, passing words and phrases between them with enviable ease. The two of them were captivating, bouncing off of each other seamlessly. Even she and Hestia couldn't manage such a skill.

"Of course, mum wasn't buying it," George said as he laughed. Flora laughed along with the rest. It was hard to not laugh when the Weasley twins were at the height of their storytelling. Fred took up the story and George glanced at her, his blue eyes bright with his laughter, and Flora ducked her head, trying to contain her ridiculous laugh and she knew her cheeks were turning red because she could feel the heat radiating off of them. George had said it was a cute laugh but Flora didn't believe it. He moved his hand as though to place it on her shoulder or her back, she wasn't sure which because she stepped out of his reach as smoothly as she could manage.

She focused on her drink so she wouldn't have to witness the hurt in those blue eyes. Flora hated herself, but it was for the best. She couldn't give him what he wanted. She would never be an acceptable wife. Marriage to a distant pureblood would suffice, preferably a foreign-born that didn't even speak English, she would have no qualms in not living up to those expectations then but she cared too much for George to put him through the misery of being with her.

She avoided her sister's meaningful glare. Her sister understood her better than anyone ever could, but even she refused to understand Flora's self-sacrifice. Flora blamed it on Hestia being disgustingly in love with Marcus and unable to handle another person being minorly unhappy. At least she still had her sisters' support, even if it was paired with constant disapproval.

Their group moved to the edge of the ballroom as the dancing started. If this was to follow the structure of all other balls, they would dance the more energetic dances for another hour, eat, and then dance the slower dances. She knew her parents expected her to dance with multiple eligible bachelors tonight. Her parents were distracted with the impending wedding of her sister to Marcus, but Flora was the Carrow Heiress and would need a marriage in a few years. Flora took a bigger drink from her champagne, at least after the ball they'd be able to relax at Potter's safehouse and hopefully have some fun.

Sweet Merlin, Flora never thought she'd think that before. Looking forward to relaxing at Potters' residence with a bunch of Gryffindors and her fellow Slytherins. How the times had changed, she thought amused.

Soon enough a man approached requesting her hand to dance. He was older, almost forty, and had a yellow tinge to his skin that hinted that he might have been one of the ones shunted off to Azkaban during the first war. Offering her practiced Heiress smile, Flora accepted her hand and tried to ignore George's eyes watching her leave.

The man was terrible and sleazy and just barely sane. Sadly the one following him wasn't any better. Flora kept her vapid smile in place and thought about the responsibility to her family line that she must uphold, reciting her family mantra to block the nasally voice of the third man and the fourth.

"Forgive me for the intrusion but I was promised the next dance by the lovely lady." The just short of elderly man stopped at the voice and the tap on his shoulder. Flora felt a genuine grin fall into place as Harry Potter flashed a superiorly charming smile at the man who gaped a bit but nodded rapidly, stepping aside to allow Harry the chance to slip right in. "Apologies for the lie, but you looked like you needed a rescue," the savior said with a cheeky smile.

"I suppose you're forgiven, Lord Potter," she said with a haughty sniff. "That's quite a beautiful snake," she added, looking at the golden snake wrapped around Potter's forearm, the same arm that held her hand as he guided her through the dance.

"Thanks. A Christmas present, his name's Raaja," a few hissed words and then Potter said, "he says you look beautiful."

Flora smirked. "Well, be sure to pass my thanks on to Raaja."

Potter chuckled and hissed and Flora could only assume that he did as she asked. They danced easily for a few measures in content silence. His dance lessons had most certainly paid off, she thought as they moved easily to the music.

"You know," Potter said, looking far too innocent, "I wasn't the only one who had intentions to rescue you from your line of atrocious suitors."

"I'm certain I don't know what you mean," Flora replied quietly, her eyes landing immediately on a certain redheaded twin as he spun his laughing sister on the other side of the dance floor as Potter twirled her expertly.

"Really? So you didn't just immediately look at George just now?" Flora glared at Potter and he grinned toothily at her. "Why are you avoiding him?"

"Did he say something?"

"No. But I do notice things." Flora raised an eyebrow. "And Hestia might have implied something," Potter admitted. Flora smirked. She knew that Potter was very invested in the lives of the people he cared for but that hardly meant he was observant.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with."

"Maybe not, but I'm going to." Flora sighed and Potter twirled her while she remained silent. "Come on, Flora. If you aren't interested in him, that's completely fine. Weasley isn't everyone's flavor, but break it to him straight. I know that's not a thing Slytherin's do, but it'll be for the best to just get it done and over with. For what it's worth, I think you could be happy with him though."

"I know I could be," Flora admitted. "But he wouldn't be."

"Why not let him decide that," Potter cautioned with a frown. "Why do you think that anyway?"

"He would desire children. He would desire a wife in every sense of the word. Weasley's are known for their large broods and their tactile demonstrations of affection. I can't…" Flora cut off her words and swallowed hard, her fingers digging slightly into Potters' shoulder.

He withheld the wince, his brow furrowed in confusion. "You've lost me," he admitted.

"I can't...the very thought…" Flora took a breath and looked into Potters' eyes. Eyes so open and confused and cutely innocent as his head cocked to the side. She should beg her leave; there was no reason for her to continue. He was her lord and her superior, discussing such matters with him was beyond propriety but she knew Potter was genuine in his concern, not just for George but for her as well. So because Potter cared, she kept talking. "The very thought of performing any form of wifely duties...it's sickening and repulsive…"

Potter blinked at her, his brow still furrowed before his eyes widened, his eyebrows skyrocketed up his forehead, and his neck reddened. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath, shutting his eyes tight. He looked ridiculously uncomfortable and seemed to find it difficult to hold her eye when he finally reopened them, choosing to look at her hairline instead. Their feet moving in step to the newest song without thought. "Right, um….well...I mean you know any man you married would expect...well you know."

Despite her own embarrassment, Flora took comfort and strength from Potter's obvious discomfort as he still tried to be supportive and understanding for her. "Yes, but I wouldn't care for them. I could push them off on a mistress as soon as I got pregnant — quickly with luck and the use of many potions — and never worry myself over it again. George...I couldn't...I wouldn't stand him being with another and his loyalty and chivalry wouldn't allow him to even entertain the thought. He'd be trapped with me and he'd resent me and…." Flora blinked her eyes rapidly, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

"I don't think you give him enough credit," Potter said after giving her a few moments to compose herself. "I think you should talk to him, be honest and see whether he wants to be 'trapped' as you call it. Don't make the choice for him before he even knows his options."

Flora took a deep breath and sighed. It was what Hestia had repeatedly said, but having another say the same seemed to drive the message deeper.

"Besides, there are other ways of having children, blood adoptions for one." Flora blinked in surprise. She hadn't considered that, not many families entertained the thought outside of same-sex couples. "It's something that I'm going to be trying to promote in the coming years. And if you and George do work and wish for a family, then you might be able to help me. Just like Fred, Montague and Pucey might be another model example if they ever figure whatever they are out."

Flora just nodded, allowing a small seed of hope to plant itself in her chest as she looked back at George who happened to be glancing in her direction when she did. She offered him a soft smile and he beamed back at her before turning to spin his flighty blonde Ravenclaw dance partner with a laugh.

"So, how are you enjoying the night so far?" Potter asked after another twirl.

"Much better now," Flora admitted with a small smile. Potter grinned widely.

"Good. Will you be —?"

"Lord Potter," a smooth voice said and Flora actually stumbled midstep for the first time since she was eight years old. Potter caught her easily before turning with a smile on his face that had Flora stunned even as she dipped into a deep curtsy. She held it for the appropriate amount of time — since they weren't supposed to be fully kneeling before their Lord tonight due to the dancing and spontaneous kneeling could cause injury — before straightening her spine so rapidly that it actually hurt. She couldn't help the wince but fortunately, her Lord didn't notice. His gaze remained on Potter who was still smiling widely. Flora got the feeling that the Dark Lord hadn't looked at her once. "You are a difficult man to find tonight," the Dark Lord said quietly, stepping closer and offering his hand.

"That's a terrible way of asking for a dance."

"You already promised, I have no need to ask."

Flora watched as Potter eagerly accepted the hand and then they were dancing and Flora realized she had been dismissed. Not only that but she hadn't even been a thought. She stared at the two most powerful men in the wizarding world dancing together completely unaware of the wide berth that the rest of the room gave them. Flora stepped to the edge of the dance floor in bemusement at the sight and then gasped as a wave of Dark Magic swept over her. A warm hand was on her elbow keeping her standing and without even having to look she knew it was George. She allowed herself to enjoy the warmth and support he offered her and leaned lightly against him before straightening to stand once more. Leaning against a man who you were not courting nor betrothed or affianced to was just asking for scandal.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hestia step next to her, Marcus hovering at her shoulder as he had been since before they'd announced their courtship, just as he'd done before they even knew they were betrothed. Flora couldn't remember a time in her childhood when Marcus Flint hadn't followed after her sister, nor she after him.

Flora couldn't tear her eyes away from the two dancing but she guessed the others of the guard had arrived as well by now. She breathed through the intensity of the combined magic: electric and soothing, invigorating and comforting. She doubted they were purposefully releasing their magic, it was most likely an aftereffect of the heightened adrenaline of the dance and emotions. Her own magic wished to be released in response to the unintentional call but she gripped it tightly.

"They look like they are fighting a battle or dueling," Hestia commented.

Hestia was right too. It seemed that neither man could agree on who was leading the dance. There would be a moment when the Dark Lord gained the lead and would spin Potter a few times but then Potter would push forward and begin leading the Dark Lord. She still couldn't believe the ease at which Potter displayed leading the Dark Lord in a dance, at least until the Dark Lord took control once again. It also seemed like they were having some staring contest that remained unbroken throughout the entire dance. Potter's smile was positively blinding and while the Dark Lord didn't smile he seemed different, lighter perhaps? It was bizarre and Flora couldn't look away. She was entranced by their smooth grace, their elegance in the constant switching of control. Her knees trembled each time a wave of their combined magic washed over her. Thank Merlin it wasn't a constant barrage or she'd be on the floor.

"Bets on who tops?" Fred asked, panting slightly as he leaned against Graham, a hand on Adrian's shoulder. Fred and George had less exposure to the intensity of Dark Magic and it always affected them worse when exposed to it and this was their first time experiencing the Dark Lords' magic.

Flora squawked and Hestia reached out to hit Fred, while the others muffled their chuckles with their hands. "It isn't appropriate to take bets on our Lord," Cassius said, stifling his chuckles.

"Just saying that because you don't want to lose," George challenged, his voice sounding strained. Flora could feel his hand trembling on her elbow as he strove to remain standing. She wished to provide him with a more stable foundation like Adrian and Graham were doing for Fred but she was much smaller than George and knew it wouldn't be of use, it would also be less proper for her to visibly support him in public.

"There is no way to even verify the winner," Adrian argued.

"We could get Harry to talk," Fred said confidently.

"Would you want to know those details?" Marcus asked, eying the redheaded twins critically.

Fred and George exchanged a look and grimaced. "Maybe not," they said in unison. "Some things are best left a mystery."

---

Remus sat at one of the tables in the corner of the room. Fenrir had been with him but had just left to prowl around the gardens to terrify people for his own amusement. A lot had happened since Remus had joined Fenrir's pack but his natural tendency to avoid crowds would never be stomped out. That had always been James and Sirius, he'd always preferred the edges. He nodded at the house-elf who popped up to replace his champagne. He wondered when dinner would be served because he was getting hungry. He picked at the sleeve of his robe, Harry had gotten it for him for Christmas and it was a dulled red that was soft against his skin. The transformation the other night had been the easiest in a long time but his body was still sore.

Distracting himself from his growing hunger, Remus watched the people around him, the Dark, some dancing and some chatting in groups. He shivered, recalling the overwhelming magic that had all but choked those in attendance when Harry danced with the Dark Lord. Luckily, it had only been one dance, because Remus didn't know if everyone could have managed a second song of that dance.

He sighed as he recalled the way the two had moved together; two vastly independent men who wouldn't even submit to being led in a dance. Remus really didn't know who else could better compliment them. Anyone else would be cowed or walked over and no one deserved that. No, even if Harry didn't realize it, the Dark Lord would be the only one suitable to measure up against his own power. The only one who would provide an equal partnership. Remus took a large gulp of his champagne to soothe the strangeness of that thought.

"Remus," Harry said, as though conjured from Remus's own thoughts, claiming the empty seat next to him. "I'm so glad you were able to make it."

Remus smiled at Harry and took note of the healthy flush on his cubs' cheeks, the bright smile, and the shining eyes. His cub was happy, probably the happiest Remus had ever seen him. If nothing else, that alone justified their allegiance shift to the Dark. Remus would do whatever it took to protect that happiness, Harry deserved that after everything in his life. Remus owed it to James and Lily and Sirius to guard and protect Harry as he never had before.

"I'm glad I could make it," Remus admitted. "I know I wouldn't have if the schedule hadn't been changed."

"Thank Voldemort for that."

Remus quirked an eyebrow. "I'm sure you might have had some influence."

Harry shrugged, looking out at the people. "I mentioned I was upset you wouldn't be able to attend and then he realized that none of the werewolves would and he wanted all of his allies present. Where's Fenrir?"

There was something off in Harry's tone, his eyes on the crowd, but Remus wasn't sure what it was. "He went to scare people in the gardens."

Harry hummed. Remus was about to ask what was wrong but then Harry turned to him with a bright smile as he pushed back his emerald sleeve to show a golden snake on his arm. "Meet Raaja. Voldemort got him for me as a Christmas present. Isn't he beautiful? He's native to India too, a part of my history. You know?"

"I am familiar," Remus said with a light laugh, admiring the golden scales of the small snake. He'd never been fond of snakes himself but even he could tell the reptile was stunning and probably very expensive. "Your grandfather took a trip to India every summer, took your dad with him too as he got older."

Harry stared at him with those green eyes that always brought memories of his mother to the surface. "Really?"

The question held so much longing in that single word that Remus felt compelled to go into more detail. "The Potters' have many business dealings with India and your grandfather was fluent in Hindi. Tried teaching James too but your dad never could get the hang of it. Lily got it better than James."

"My mother learned Hindi?"

Remus nodded. "She did. She planned to teach you too. She wanted you to be completely bilingual from the start. She and James had plans to go there after the war, you see, they were going to go and introduce you to some of the business associates, a bit of a delayed honeymoon. And Lily wanted to be plenty prepared for when they arrived and took to learning Hindi with astonishing intensity." Remus smiled fondly as he remembered Lily pacing through the small living room in Godric's Hollow, baby Harry in her arms as she repeated phrases over and over again to make sure the pronunciation came off flawlessly. Remus also thought that learning the language helped distract her from the growing terror of the war and being kept in seclusion. "But it was to be expected, Lily never did anything by half measures. Much like you," he added with a smile. Despite looking so achingly like James, the more Remus spoke with Harry the more he realized that he shared his mothers' spirit.

"Tell me more?" Harry breathed, scooting his chair closer.

Remus swallowed against the pain, the guilt rising in him. He hated that he was the one who needed to pass these stories along. Hated that Harry hadn't experienced these stories straight from the source. Hated that he was the only one left to pass on those stories of James and Lily. The reason for all of this stood in that very room but even knowing that Remus couldn't even blame the Dark Lord. Living with the werewolves and holding long talks with Fenrir had opened Remus's eyes to many things, the divide between Light and Dark was one of them.

Remus had switched sides because of Harry. He hadn't altered his ideals and he still thought the Light had the right idea of it but Harry had switched and so Remus hadn't hesitated. Now...now his opinions had shifted. He still wasn't completely sold but he was more in tune with his own dark nature, being a werewolf the Dark was inevitable but Remus had ignored it. Now he was learning to accept and work with it.

"I will. Not here, but I will. This isn't a place for reminiscing, it's a time for celebrating." Harry looked to the ground, obviously upset and Remus reached out a hand to grab his shoulder. Harry glanced back at him. "I promise you, I will tell you every story I can remember. I swear it. But," he swallowed and looked around at the crowd talking around them, "I don't want others to hear it. I'm sorry, I just…" Those stories were his and they were Harry's, these stuck-up purebloods had no right to their memories.

Harry tilted his head, his smile understanding and forgiving; so much like Lily. "I understand. I think I'd prefer that as well. Come by Grimmauld in a couple of days and we can have the whole day."

"I'd like that," Remus agreed, grinning.

"So how's the werewolf pack? You're looking much better? How was the full moon?"

Remus let out a breath and leaned back in his chair, scratching his chin. "Not as I expected, but good. I'm learning quite a lot. I think it was my least painful transformation since James and Lily passed. Actually —"

"What's the big celebration for anyway?" a rough voice nearby said. Remus and Harry exchanged a look and glanced subtly at the group of three men a few paces away. So far the two weren't noticed.

"Celebrating the Dark Lord and Potter joining up," the youngest looking replied, tossing back his champagne.

"They did that back in the summer," the original man argued. He took a flask from inside his robes and took a quick swing before offering it to the other two. The younger one accepted it, grimacing at the taste before handing it back. "Why the celebration now is what I'm saying."

"Guess they know something we don't," the younger replied with a shrug. Each man looked middle aged and Remus thought the third one, who hadn't spoken yet, looked vaguely familiar. They'd probably all been at school together, he surmised.

"Personally I haven't seen much change or progress for the Dark," the original muttered. His large belly strained against his robes as he moved to check behind him. He should have looked in front of him. Remus glanced at Harry who looked more amused by the topic than anything, one hand on the table propping up his chin as he studied the three men. "Unless you count the Potter brat making a circus of the Wizengamot and playing the golden prince for the press. Something underhanded with that one."

"Did you see the mudblood?" the younger asked, leaning closer. "Can you believe our Lord is tolerating that scum in his own house?"

"Watch what you say," the third man said, finally speaking. "You saw what the kid did to Thomas and Bellatrix. You want to be next?"

"Those two had it coming," the original man said, waving a hand. "Besides from what I hear, Necromancy can do more than just kill people."

"What do you mean, Mike?" the younger asked. Remus thought the man looked only a few years younger and had a passing resemblance to the third man. Remus wondered if they were related.

"Heard the kid can bring people back just as easy," Mike said, lowering his voice a bit but with his enhanced hearing, Remus could still hear him fine, it seemed Harry could too because he looked intrigued now. "Bet that's why our Lord keeps the kid around."

"Careful Mike," the third man said again.

"You know you're thinking of it, Jay. Our Lord is too lenient with the kid, everyone knows it. There's got to be a reason."

"You think?" the younger asked.

"You saw that dance? Any of us try taking the lead and we'd be dead," Mike said.

"None of us would have ever danced with Our Lord," Jay replied dryly. "Anyway, have you ever tried killing a Necromancer? Heard it's near impossible."

Mike shrugged. "Our Lord could do it. Anyway, I was talking to Lou the other day. And Lou reckons that the whole politics thing is a ploy, that Our Lord is plotting something big and it's going to happen soon. A big battle, you know? And the Dark will come out on top with no losses."

"No losses?" the younger asked, finally sounding skeptical. Remus was too and he was more interested in the conversation than he wanted to admit. "How do you figure that?"

"Easy, the kid. Any of us gets killed, Our Lord will just order Potter to bring us back. We got immunity to death. My bet is that's why Our Lord tolerates the kid, why Our Lord lets the mudblood in his house, because this way his army is immortal."

Remus blinked at that logic and turned to comment on the absurdity with Harry but Harry's chair was empty. Oh no, Remus thought.

"Excuse me," Harry said pleasantly as he walked up to the three men. The three men looked at him and paled. "So sorry to intrude on your rousing conversation but I thought to interject before your stupidity became catching. Wouldn't want to infect the rest of the lovely people here."

Remus choked on a laugh and stood to stand behind his cub. He'd heard tales of Harry in the Wizengamot but he'd never witnessed it. The three men glanced at Remus only briefly, their attention was immediately drawn back to Harry almost against their will.

"It seems you are all under the delusion that I obey your Lord, that I am someone lesser like yourselves."

"Oi, you —" the youngest one spluttered.

"Save your breath," Harry cut in, "intelligent people are talking. You just listen." Harry paused and flicked his gaze over the three and wrinkled his nose. "If you are capable of even that."

"Look kid, I don't care what kind of power you think Our Lord will grant you, but you can't talk to us like that," Mike said angrily.

"The kind of power that he grants me?" Harry repeated, his voice rising slightly. "That he grants me! Do you think I need to be granted anything? I am not some object that Voldemort can push about like some puppeteer. He cannot order me to do anything that I do not wish to. And I certainly wouldn't bother to help any of you. In fact, I'm sure Death would hardly begrudge me Claiming your Lives now. It would do the world a service to be free of your idiocy."

"You can't kill all of us, the Dark Lord —"

"You think he'd choose you three worthless men over me?" Harry asked coldly. "What are you worth? Do you think he'd prefer your fanciful tales and ridiculous thoughts?" Harry let out a harsh laugh and cut it off just as quickly. Remus blinked at the sound. He'd never heard James or Lily speak so harshly, but he'd heard it from Sirius occasionally. "In fact, my friend and honored guest, the one you all speak so lowly of is worth more than all of you combined based on her intelligence alone. Add in her skill with a wand and you three aren't even a passing thought. She was personally invited and requested to be here, can any of you say the same? Does your Lord even know your names?"

"You've made your point. You and your guest are important to the Dark Lord," Jay interjected bitterly. "But this is a party, you can't kill us."

"And well-well, we-" the youngest stuttered.

"I thought I said not to speak," Harry snapped. He took another step forward. And it didn't matter that Harry was inches shorter and it didn't matter that he was still a teenager, because in that moment Remus witnessed his cub make grown men cower with just his words and his presence alone. "Now," Harry continued, his voice soft and gentle, "you're quite right that I don't want to kill you tonight. It is a night for celebration after all. So, you're going to leave. You're going to leave and not return until your Master calls you like the groveling worms that you are. And when you are summoned, I'll be there and I'll demonstrate to you exactly how I'm not your Masters' puppet. And then, I'll watch your Master destroy you." Harry smiled sweetly. "Until next time, gentlemen, good night."

"Now see here," Mike said, puffing up his chest and turning red in the face.

"Leave. Now," Harry ordered. Remus swallowed at the terrifying glint in Harry's eyes. The three men must have noticed it as well and shoved each other to leave quickly while still appearing dignified. It didn't work well for them. Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. "Sorry about that," he said softly.

Remus clapped a hand onto his shoulder. "I understand. You have nothing to apologize for."

Harry nodded as he sighed. "I'm sorry, I've got to talk to Voldemort, and let him know what happened. I think you're seated near me during dinner though so we can talk more then."

Remus just nodded and gave Harry a brief hug before he disappeared among the crowd. He watched as most of the people gave dips of their heads or bows as he passed, Harry acknowledging them with quick nods. Remus felt his pride growing as he reclaimed his seat. His cub was growing up and he couldn't be prouder.

---

"Harry looks like he needs saving," Ginny commented as she stood next to Hermione. Luckily she had gained her spark and color back after the shock of earlier. She'd danced almost nonstop with her brothers, Neville, Harry, and Blaise.

Hermione looked away from the many couples dancing and giggled. Harry was talking to some of the older witches and looked bored at the chatter going on around him. Dinner had finished and the night had progressed to the slow dances and it seemed the mothers were trying to convince Harry that their daughter was the one to dance with. Harry had danced with each of his friends before dinner and Hermione had been impressed at his improvement. She'd been even more impressed with Ron's improvement. He had asked her to dance not once but twice, one before dinner and then one after. He'd stumbled a few times but he'd not stepped on her foot and he'd been...not smooth or incredible...but very nice. And Hermione had felt giddy for every moment that they danced.

"Come on, he said he wanted to talk to us earlier anyway," Hermione said, grabbing Ginny's arm and dragging her along as they went to rescue their friend. She tossed a wave over her shoulder to Ron and the others of their group and weaved through the crowd.

Hermione resisted the urge to elbow some of them particularly hard. She'd been a nervous wreck leading up to this night. She knew that she was going to be just barely tolerated and that all of the snobbish pureblood elite — the people who had all hunted her and her kind without issue just months ago — would be sneering at her every comment and her very presence. The only reason muggleborns were no longer persecuted now was because of Harry. Harry and his influence and his pure strength of will was changing things. She hated not having him in school alongside her, hated seeing his empty place at the table, hated attending DA meetings with him not there to lead them, but he was doing so much on the outside that she couldn't help but be proud. He was the reason she was here tonight, attending a Death Eater ball. And Hermione planned on doing what she could so that more muggleborns would be accepted at future balls.

She would prove to all of the stuck up purebloods that she deserved her place in their world. She'd show all of them.

"Hello," Ginny said once they reached the group. Hermione recognized Pansy and Daphne's mothers based on looks alone but she didn't recognize the others. The five women and Harry turned to face them and Harry would probably have sagged in relief if this had happened a year ago but now he had etiquette training and so he just offered them a smile. "So sorry to interrupt," Ginny continued, "it's just that Lord Potter requested to speak with us. We set up the planned meeting a few hours ago. I'm so terribly sorry for having to steal him away."

"I'm afraid ladies that she is right, I did request their presence at this time. I became so immersed in our conversation that I must have lost track of time," Harry said smoothly, charming smile in place. The women didn't look pleased but they had no ground for arguing. Harry dipped his head in goodbye before turning to offer his arms to Ginny and Hermione. They accepted and he led them out of the ballroom. "Thank bloody Merlin. Bloody women," Harry muttered once out of earshot. Harry waved for Luna to join them and soon the blonde was at Ginny's side. "Anyway, this way. Say, Hermione, do you know ways of learning a language easily?"

Hermione frowned as Harry led them through the crowd. "I know there are some translation charms but I can look into some of the better books that help. Honestly, finding a native speaker and learning from them is probably the best. Why? What language?"

"Oh nothing, just a thought," Harry said airily. "Here we go, we should have privacy here." Harry led them to the farthest corner of the foyer hidden in the shadows of the large staircase and began casting numerous privacy charms. Hermione and Ginny exchanged a look of surprise. Luna watched with a tilted head as Harry cast the spells.

"Why not just actually go somewhere private?" Ginny asked.

Harry grimaced. "Can't, Marv-erhm -Voldemort set up the wards so that no one but he and I can go anywhere else. I'm not able to overpower the wards."

"What about the garden?" Ginny persisted.

Harry shook his head. "No, he's out there and I don't want him getting all suspicious or something."

"Harry, is everything alright?" Hermione asked, her concern growing. "Is everything alright between you two? I mean, if you're planning to break this alliance, you probably should have done that before he held a big celebration."

"You have quite a few nargles about you, Harry," Luna commented. "It's good of you to want to talk to us now. Friends are always good at dissipating large nargle gatherings."

"Good, good," Harry mumbled, his voice distant as he bobbed his head distractedly, running a hand through his hair. "And no, I don't want to break the alliance. I actually think it'll be more permanent than I originally thought." It took all her control to not snort at that statement and she exchanged a smirk with Ginny. At least it seemed he was finally catching on. Harry froze, his eyes wide. "Oh Merlin, will you guys be alright with that? I didn't even think, I promised you guys it was all just temporary and I really can't force you to stay with me for something more permanent."

"Harry, shut up," Ginny ordered fondly, placing her hand on his arm to stop his rambling. "We already knew it would be permanent. Honestly, we aren't idiots."

Harry flushed, ducking his head sheepishly and Hermione laughed while Luna giggled. It was nice to see that despite all of his power and influence, her best friend was still the same at his core. "Anyway, what is it you want to talk to us about though?"

Hermione watched her friend as he paced in a small circle in front of them and Ginny leaned against the wall looking amused. Luna leaned against the wall too and began lightly playing with her feathered earrings. They were peacock feathers that didn't really go with her yellow and pink dress — though they were an improvement to the Dirigible plum earrings she usually had — but Hermione thought it suited Luna well. Hermione crossed her arms, her eyes not leaving Harry but she didn't lean against the wall. Harry tugged at his previously neatly styled hair, messing it up horrendously.

"Harry?" Hermione tried again after watching him pace for another minute.

"I don't know," he exploded before sagging to lean against the wall opposite Ginny and next to Luna. Hermione moved to block them from the view of the foyer. She knew Harry had put up spells but it never hurt to have a physical block as well. "I don't know," he continued. "I just, I've been having these… but then, I don't know, and I mean…" Harry groaned and covered his face with his hands.

"Yes, I understood that perfectly," Ginny drawled with a roll of her eyes. "Care to try again?"

"You've been hanging out with the Slytherins too long," Harry chuckled, dropping his hands.

"You're one to talk sweetie," Ginny shot back. "Now, talk."

"I'm not really sure what I'm feeling…" Harry began slowly. "Recently, I just…"

"Deep breath, Harry," Luna advised. "Blibbering Humdingers like to swell the tongue when talking about serious things. Deep breaths help to get rid of them."

"Start at the beginning," Hermione offered, stepping closer to put her hand on Harry's shoulder. "First, who are you talking about?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Marvolo. Well, Voldemort, fuck, don't ever let him know that you three know that that's what I call him. Swear it, he'd be furious."

Hermione felt like she'd been stupefied at the information but she also felt smug. She thought she'd caught the slip a few times but it felt nice to have it confirmed. She also now had an idea about what type of conversation this was about to be. She glanced at Ginny who also seemed to be piecing together what was happening. Luna smiled softly, her eyes on the opposite wall.

"We swear it," they said together.

Harry sighed. "Good, good. Well, yeah, so Marvolo and I, recently I've been noticing these feelings towards him and I don't understand. I mean, I know he's a terrible person. He's a bloody Dark Lord, but he's really nice to me. He really does treat me like an equal, it's incredible. I know he gives me more allowances than he needs to, he decorated the Christmas tree in the library with me because I asked him. And it feels really nice when he pays attention to me and I feel so furious when fucking Fenrir shows up because….I don't know why but that wolf pisses me off. And I just don't understand what is happening. I'm so confused."

Her heart melted a little bit as she pulled Harry into a hug. He returned it but she could tell she had just confused him even more. She glanced at Ginny who was covering her mouth, her eyes bright with mirth. Luna had turned her gaze on Harry now as she giggled. Hermione recalled her only encounter with the Dark Lord earlier that evening and repressed the terrified shiver that threatened to overtake her. She'd never felt so petrified in all her life and she'd actually been petrified for months. His entire presence was cold and intimidating and he radiated power and authority. Hermione had prided herself on being able to form words but she'd felt lightheaded throughout the encounter. Obviously, though, all of that didn't bother Harry and admittedly, Hermione supposed her best friend could be just as intense when he wanted to so she supposed it all balanced out. First, she had to help him see that.

"Harry," Hermione began slowly, "have you ever thought that you might have a...a crush on him?"

Harry jerked out of her arms. "What? Don't be ridiculous Hermione. I can't have a crush on him. I like girls, remember? I kissed Cho last year."

Hermione shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She tried to contain her amusement and her frustration. She knew Harry hadn't had the greatest childhood, she knew his relatives were terrible and they'd probably stunted his emotional growth, so she needed to be patient and understanding about this. She didn't want to scare him off, it was already a major step and improvement for Harry to even admit he had a possible issue where he wanted their advice, especially regarding emotions.

"Just because you kissed a girl, Harry, doesn't mean that you can't also like men," Ginny said gently. It seemed her laughter had been contained.

"Well even still, this feels nothing like when I had a crush on Cho. It's completely different."

"You feeling differently makes sense," Luna said simply. "They are two different people. You can't feel the same thing for different people. You need different feelings for everyone."

"Different how?" Hermione asked, but she surprised herself by internally agreeing with Luna.

"Everything, it's just, he….did you know he held me when I cried after talking to my parents? He stayed outside the ritual room and waited and then held me as I cried. When I came back from the Wizengamot meeting all sick from the potion overdose he held me as we walked back to my room. I like when he holds me. I don't know why but I do. It feels nice. And he smells nice too, unfairly nice. And when I think about being away from him or something happening to him it...it hurts," Harry said, his voice cracking as he grabbed at his chest as though feeling the pain at just speaking it out loud. "It scares me to think of him not in my life. That's nothing like Cho. Cho was pretty and she made me tongue-tied and flustered but that's it." Ginny, Luna, and Hermione exchanged a look. Hermione felt a giddy excitement building that she usually got when she was close to solving a particularly difficult problem, or when someone admitted she was right about something after trying to deny it.

"Well, do you think Voldemort is handsome?" Ginny asked, a smile teasing her lips though she seemed to be trying to remain serious.

"He's the most handsome man I've ever seen. Which doesn't help anything at all," Harry groaned.

"And does he make you tongue-tied?" Luna asked, her hands clasped behind her back as she rocked on her heels.

Harry tilted his head in thought. "Not exactly. I mean, some of my favorite times are when it's just him and me in the library at night and we're drinking after dinner tea and just talking. And we talk about all sorts of things, he is a literal genius."

"That's probably because you were allies and friends before all of these feelings arose, yes?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded, his eyes on his shoes as they kicked at the floor. "So I think you're right. You don't have a crush."

Harry looked up at her with wide eyes. "See, I told you. But what is wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," Hermione soothed him. "You don't have a crush, but Harry, I think you're in love with him."

Harry was immediately shaking his head in denial. "No, I can't be in love with Voldemort. I mean, he killed my parents, he's tried to kill me, he's way older than me, no."

"First, you are his ally, and you just admitted that you want to be his permanent ally, so obviously to some extent you've moved past your past indiscretions with him, right?" Ginny asked, holding up her fingers. Harry nodded with a grimace. "Second, you are an emancipated adult in the eyes of magic and the government, so age should hardly be a consideration, especially since he's all reborn and in his mid-twenties technically. There have been grander age differences with arranged marriages. Besides, your maturity pushes you to at least eighteen or twenty."

"Allies to lovers isn't a great leap," Luna added. "You are already partners. Now you will be partners in all ways."

Harry stared at Luna with a surprised look in his eye. "My mother said something similar when I spoke to them…" he said softly, his brow furrowed before sighing and shaking his head. "But...I can't be in love with him."

"Why not?" Ginny pressed. "I think of everyone you deserve to be happy the most. And you've got the biggest heart of anyone I know."

"It would ruin everything. I'm his ally."

"It really wouldn't," Hermione insisted, grabbing to hold Harry's hands with her own. "Harry, he makes you happy. You feel safe with him. Some of your favorite moments are with him. You can't bear the thought of being away from him. He supports you, just as you support him. You care for him and I think he cares for you too."

"We argue and fight," Harry protested.

Ginny came forward to throw her arm over his shoulder. "So what? My parents argue all the time, and you'd be hard-pressed to find a witch and wizard who aren't more in love. Being in love doesn't mean you're perfect and content and never disagree."

"Arguing helps disrupt the wrackspurts, so you know your feelings remain true and you aren't blinded by fuzzy thinking," Luna said.

"It's okay to love him, Harry. We still love you and we will still stand by you. And I'm certain your parents would want you to be happy too," Hermione continued.

"I can't...I can't be….because I...I…" Harry's words faded as he dropped his head in his hands, shaking his head vehemently in denial. Hermione watched Harry in silence, the other two also remained silent as they watched him process their words. Suddenly his head rose, his eyes large and he looked a bit pale. "Holy bloody fuck," he whispered. "I think you're right. I think...I think I do love him." Harry leaned against the wall in stunned silence. "Now what do I do?"

"Well, you either tell him or you don't," Hermione said, stepping away from him a bit to give him space.

Harry snorted. "Come on, Hermione. I can't tell him. He'd laugh at me, worse he'd cancel our alliance. No, he can't know."

"What makes you think he doesn't feel the same way?" Ginny asked.

"Because I know he doesn't."

Luna sighed as she squinted at the area around Harry's shoulders. "It seems you need to clear away a few more wrackspurts and nargles before you can move forward. I don't think I've ever seen them team up in such a way before."

Hermione wanted to bash her head against the wall but refrained. Maybe after he processed his own feelings he'd be able to open his eyes to the Dark Lords'. "Of course, if you say so. Now, is there anything else you want to discuss or should we head back in? People will surely be looking for us soon."

"You three go on ahead. I think I need to be alone for a bit first."

Hermione nodded. She, Luna, and Ginny pressed kisses to his cheek before stepping through his privacy charms. Hermione shivered when she felt the magic brush over her skin. She'd never felt passive charms so powerful that she actually felt them. Luna hooked their arms together and the three of them re-entered the ballroom. They didn't speak about Harry's revelation and Hermione tried not to worry about her friend too much. He'd figure it out, she was sure of it. It might take him time, but Hermione was certain everything would work out.

Just before rejoining their friends, who looked close to leaving the ball, Ginny tugged on Luna's arm, stopping both the blonde and Hermione in the process. Hermione faced her friend with a tilted head.

"If he doesn't get his head out of his ass by the end of term, we do something about it. Agreed?"

Hermione grinned. "Agreed."

"Oh it will be great fun," Luna agreed happily.

---

Ron jerked awake as something hit his shoulder and immediately groaned. His head felt like it was going to split open and his mouth tasted like a desert, there was a weight on his chest that kept him pinned down too. Thankfully the room everyone was piled in had no windows so he didn't have to deal with bright light as well. With another groan, he pushed himself into a sitting position, accidentally knocking Hermione over. Apparently, she'd used his chest as a pillow during the night but now she was awake too, blinking as she wiped at her eyes.

"'Ornin'," he croaked and winced at the roughness of his throat. She grunted in reply and looked like she wanted to go back to sleep. Her curls had returned late last night from whatever spell or potion she'd used last night for the fancy updo she'd worn and Daphne had almost immediately begun pulling them into a braid. But the braids looked frizzy now and had strands sticking out haphazardly. He thought she looked adorable but doubted she'd appreciate him mentioning it right now.

Ron glanced around, Neville was sneaking out of the room; it seemed he was the one who had accidentally kicked his shoulder. Harry was missing too. Tracey, Luna and one of the Carrow twins looked to be only just now waking up. Everyone else was still asleep and he wished he had a camera of some kind to forever document the hilarity of the way everyone had fallen asleep. It would be blackmail for life against the stuffy purebloods.

The Dark Lords' Ball had been just last night and after, the young crowd loyal to Harry had gathered in Grimmauld Place to continue the celebrations. There had been shots and music and more shots and then somehow he, Harry, and Hermione had given a rundown on their many adventures to a drunkenly enthralled audience. Ron groaned as his headache grew worse the more he tried to remember the night before.

Ron decided to stop thinking about it for fear that his head really would split. The night was mainly a blur anyway. He whimpered a bit as he held his head in his hands. It had started with Fred and George pulling numerous bottles of firewhiskey out of some bag that they'd had hidden in their robes and then Harry had brought out some muggle liquor from his cabinet. Daphne and Tracey had set up the music and then the games had started and the dancing. Ron's stomach heaved a bit at remembering all of the drinks. He was not drinking again, ever!

The door opened again and Harry stepped back in, he grinned when he saw Ron sitting up. He was balancing a tray of potions as he shut the door behind him. "Didn't expect you to be one of the first up," he said, stepping over the bodies on the ground.

Ron grunted. "Neville kicked me."

"Please tell me that's a hangover potion," Hermione said softly, her eyes squinting as she rubbed at her temples.

Harry smiled. "It is indeed."

"Oh Merlin, I love you so much," Hermione said, making grabbing motions with her hands until Harry handed her the potion and then handed him one. Ron downed it and grimaced at the hot and bitter, slimy potion. But the horrid taste was worth the instant relief.

"Don't hog the potions, Potter," Tracey moaned from her place on the other side of the room. Harry snickered and began moving over to her and Luna.

"Bathrooms are free if you guys want to start getting freshened up before the others wake up," Harry offered. "And then coffee is in the dining room."

Ron nodded and stood before turning to help pull Hermione up. She didn't seem in a rush to drop his hand and so Ron gladly held her hand as they worked their way over the older Slytherin members, Harry's guard if Ron remembered correctly, but all he could think of was them as members of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He supposed they weren't as bad as his memory claimed if Harry was able to tolerate them during his Muggle Hunting nights and the twins seemed to enjoy their company too. So with that in mind, Ron was going to try and keep an open mind. The younger Slytherins were actually alright, so the older ones should be similar.

Nursing his second cup of coffee, Ron watched the others slowly start to occupy a seat at the table. There were twenty-two of them in total and they all found a seat around the enlarged dining room table with Harry at the head. Ron sat to his right and Draco was on his left with Hermione sitting next to Ron. Her head rested lightly on his shoulder as she sipped her tea. Pansy was the last one to sit at the table and once she did Dobby and Kreacher began laying out the breakfast foods.

"Oh no!" Ginny gasped, standing up, her eyes wide and panicked. "Mum. I didn't go back home. Oh, Merlin, she's going to be so pissed."

"Don't worry," Harry said, motioning for her to sit back down and starting to load his plate with the plate of eggs in front of him. "I Floo called her last night and told her you were spending the night with your brothers at my safe house. You might not be able to go anywhere for the rest of the break but she said it was fine since you were with your brothers." Harry made a flapping motion with his hands for the rest of them to start loading their plates too and passed the egg plate to Ron. Everyone took the hint and started grabbing and passing the breakfast plates around the table.

"Probably for the best you called her," George said as he passed the plate of sausages to Theo who sat next to him.

"Yeah, mum is less likely to get mad at you than the rest of us," Fred agreed as he loaded up his plate with more bacon before passing it to Pucey.

"Adopted son privileges," George said sagely. The rest of the table laughed. Harry had huffed but Ron saw his smile and reddened cheeks and grinned himself as he reached over to ruffle Harry's hair.

"How were you aware enough to even make a Floo call last night?" Draco asked, staring at Harry. Ron frowned, Draco was right. Harry had taken just as many shots as he had but from the vague memory that he had Harry hadn't been as drunk, tipsy maybe, but not as trashed as the rest of them... neither had Luna actually.

Harry smirked and took a sip of his tea. "I have my ways," was all he said. Draco glared at him but Neville was shoving the plate of toast in his face so he dropped the interrogation.

Breakfast was a loud affair, led mainly by his brothers. Ron laughed to himself at the wide-eyed looks of the Slytherins before they relaxed into it, the joyful mood carrying over from last night as they all laughed and shouted at each other as the food was eaten. A warm feeling settled in Ron's stomach as he observed the table, a group of people that never would have come together, in fact, they all hated each other this time last year. He knew he'd always remember this moment, it was like seeing them all together helped solidify how much things had changed and he felt an elated hopefulness rising in his chest. They were going to win this war, he thought with pride, they were going to win and be stronger for it.

After eating, they all moved to the dueling room Harry had built into Grimmauld Place. Ron couldn't even remember what the room had been before the renovation. As a matter of fact, all of Grimmauld Place looked completely different from what it had been like earlier in the summer. Harry attributed the change to Kreacher and Dobby.

Harry was a relentless teacher, even more than when he'd taught the DA last year. Ron couldn't even be mad about the grueling dueling work, because even in the three hours of practice he'd learned so much. His mind had techniques and tips that he wanted to take back and implement into the DA during their next meeting. New strategies were forming with these new spellcasting methods.

"Alright let's take a break. I think Kreacher and Dobby have lunch ready and then we can do some duels," Harry said. "Let's save the Patronus practice for another day."

Ron and a few of the others cheered at the idea of the duels. He'd been looking forward to this part for a while. Dobby and Kreacher had plates of sandwiches and bowls of fruit. Ron chatted with Neville and Draco, discussing the upcoming school year. It was strange to hold a civil conversation with Draco Malfoy but Ron found that he'd found a like-minded strategist in the prattish Slytherin and had enjoyed numerous chess matches against him.

"Okay, who wants to duel first?" Harry asked when they all gathered back in the dueling room.

Harry had raised an actual platform to take up the majority of the back half of the room, and so for now everyone sat on the floor in the spectator area closer to the door. Well some of them sat, a few of the older Slytherins were leaning against the wall trying to look cool, and Luna and Ginny were laying stretched out on the ground. Ginny's head resting on Luna's stomach.

"Alrighty," Fred said, clapping his hands together and jumping up from the ground. "This is something where Georgie and I excel."

George jumped up as well and began flicking his wand to create a large chart with brackets on the wall nearest to them and Fred made a list of all of their names. "Based on prior experience, we need to set Harry here against more than just one of us," George said.

"So you dear Chosen One will be towards the end," Fred continued. "Alright, school children, you little kiddies are first."

"Why do we have to go first?" Draco asked, looking affronted.

"Seniority?" Fred said with a shrug.

"Less likely to impress?" George offered with a smirk.

"Less likely —" Draco spluttered.

"Oh pipe down blondie," Fred said with a sigh. "We've already dueled against Harry. You guys haven't."

"Alright, ladies first. Sister mine and dearest Luna, you're first," George said before Draco could argue even more.

Ginny grinned eagerly and Luna smiled as she skipped onto the dueling platform. "Alright, ladies, are you ready?" Harry asked, stepping up to the edge of the platform, as the girls took their places. "Begin," he said and let off a bang from his wand.

Ginny and Luna bowed and the dueling began. Ron had already admitted to himself that while he was a decent dueller, he would never be the strongest or the best. He knew he could beat Crabbe, Goyle, Tracey, and sometimes Pansy or Blaise but that was it. However, he did excel in strategy. So while the duels continued, he stood next to Harry and debated the strengths and weaknesses of each person, debating who was better in support, defense, and offense. He even started suggesting the pairing teams quietly and smiled when Harry listened to his suggestions without question.

"I'm impressed, Ron," Harry said as they watched Theo and Hermione face off against Draco and Daphne. "You've gotten even better at this stuff. Is it being co-Captain on the team that's helping?"

Ron shrugged. "I guess a bit, but I've been reading these books." Harry gave him an overly dramatic surprised look and moved to place a hand on his forehead as though expecting him to be sick. Ron snickered and slapped his best friend's hand away. "Ha, ha, you're hilarious. Anyway, it's these strategy books. Did you know that there are chess books? Hermione told me about them and from there I found these military strategy books. Most of them are muggle books but Hermione's parents send them to me."

"That's awesome. How many have you read?"

"Only three," Ron admitted with a shrug, scuffing his foot on the floor. "It takes me a while to read them but they are interesting."

"It's still great. After all, I can't have my Master Strategist falling short on strategy," Harry teased. Ron snorted but felt his pride growing at the compliment. "What made you read the chess books though?"

Ron groaned. "I almost lost to Draco Malfoy," he admitted with an agonized sigh. "Can you imagine that? Losing to that blond ferret? Nope, it was too close a call so Hermione finally suggested I read the books. I think it was because I complained too much about it and she wanted to focus on studying."

Harry laughed and clapped Ron's shoulder. "That sounds about right."

"Harry, it's your turn!" one of the twins called. "Come on."

"Looks like I'm being summoned," Harry smirked and moved onto the platform. "Alright, Ron, who am I up against?" he asked. Ron blinked and swallowed at the sudden attention everyone gave him. Taking a breath and squaring his shoulders, he looked over everyone. They'd all dueled at least once already.

"Flint, Draco, Hermione, and Pansy," Ron decided finally. Hermione and Draco were creative in their offensive attacks, Pansy was probably the best defensive duellist, and Flint was a strong supporter. The four of them moved onto the platform and Harry smiled widely. "And, begin," Ron called out, letting out a bang from his wand.

Ron watched the duel critically. Harry's skill was obvious immediately but the four he'd chosen held out against him decently. Hermione, Pansy, and Draco worked better together because they'd gotten used to each other while at school so Flint was at a disadvantage as a team member and he worked stiffly with them but overall, it was a good pairing. They lasted eight minutes before Harry brought them all down.

"Next?" Harry asked, looking at Ron expectantly.

Ron tapped his chin. "Pucey, older Carrow, Daphne, and Ginny."

The dueling continued for another hour before Harry finally called for a break, sweating and panting, he jumped off the platform. "That was brilliant. Alright, let's rest a bit. Dobby and Kreacher probably have some stuff for us in the kitchen. I haven't seen it yet but it should be nicely enlarged to fit all of us."

The group reached the kitchen in high spirits, everyone discussing the various duels. Harry had been knocked down three times, and only against a five-team pairing: Neville, Ginny, Flint, Pansy, and Warrington being the first to do so. The other two teams had been Hermione, Draco, the younger Carrow, Blaise, and Luna and the third had been Theo, Daphne, Pucey, Fred, and George. Ron had enjoyed playing around with everyone's strengths, seeing which groups paired best together. In the kitchen, Dobby and Kreacher had hot chocolate and pastries available and Ron realized how hungry he was. He'd been so focused on the duels and the strategies he hadn't even realized. Quickly he loaded his plate with four pastries and grabbed himself a mug of hot chocolate.

The conversation flowed gently as everyone enjoyed themselves, but Harry looked confused and distracted. "Harry, mate, are you good?" Ron asked. The rest of the conversations fell silent.

Harry's brow was furrowed and he shook his head slowly. "There is something...here...something…" he said to himself before standing from the table and starting to walk the perimeter of the kitchen. The rest of them watched him closely as Harry pulled his wand out as he prowled about. Ron felt unease tickle his spine and he reached for his own wand. Suddenly Harry stopped next to a small cupboard tucked into the corner. Ron remembered it being Kreacher's room from when they lived here during the summer. Harry knelt down and opened the door and grabbed something out of it.

Ron frowned at the golden necklace Harry pulled out. It was garishly ornate and looked heavy with a green 'S' inlaid onto the front. He didn't see what was so wrong with the necklace but Harry had gone horribly pale and looked like he might be sick as he stared at the necklace. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes not looking away from the necklace.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Neville asked, standing slowly from his chair.

Harry blinked and looked up at them. "Nothing, nothing. Sorry, I have to go."

"Wait, what?" Ginny said, looking shocked.

"You guys can continue dueling if you want," Harry insisted. He tried looking at them but Ron saw his eyes constantly retreating back to the necklace. "But I need to go have a few words with my ally," Harry growled slightly as he swept out of the room. A few minutes later they heard the Floo activate and Ron knew his friend had just left, apparently to go and possibly yell at the Dark Lord.

"I hope everything is okay," Tracey said quietly into the silent kitchen.

"It looked like an heirloom of some kind," Pucey said thoughtfully.

"Everything will work out. They need this conversation before progress can be made," Luna said. Ron frowned, that really didn't clear anything up he thought.

"Well, you heard the man," Fred said. "Shall we continue dueling?"