I will not dance tonight Chapter 1: Part I, a harry potter fanfic

The usual disclaimer (some of you are starting to know me): I am French and therefore please forgive any syntactical or grammatical mistakes.

To this day, this is my longest fanfiction that I have finished.

It has no great pretensions, other than to raise a point that has always puzzled me in book four, that adults force an underage teenager into events he doesn't want...

And also to prove that when Harry takes a few minutes to think things through, everything goes much better.

Happy reading with our favourite lovebirds!

Harry left Transfiguration Class on autopilot and returned to Gryffindor Tower. His mind replayed the conversation with Professor McGonagall, completely confused. He felt trapped and hated this feeling, which had been far too present in his life all along. And especially this year, when he had been forced to enter the Triwizards Tournament as a minor, left without any help apart from Hermione's watchful guidance, and the hazardous suggestions of Professors Moody and Hagrid. Professor McGonagall, his own Head of House, had only taken an interest in him to tell him that he had to attend that famous Ball. The accumulation was beginning to weigh on him. The entire faculty didn't seem to care that an underage teenager with barely three years of magical education had to face trials reserved for people with twice as much experience and three years more knowledge. Without Hagrid, he wouldn't even have known that the first task would be to fight dragons. Without Professor Moody, he wouldn't have thought to use his Seeker skills for that. Although, now that he had more perspective, he would probably choose a different way to do it if he had to do it again. One that would avoid leaving another scar, he thought as he absently massaged his shoulder...

He passed a side room which he knew was probably empty, and which was regularly used as a study room when the Gryffindor Common Room was too noisy and needed a place to make noise and talk, unlike the Library. He decided to go in, and to sit down for a while. Everything was spinning too fast in his head, and he needed to sit down. Fortunately, no one was in the room at the moment, and he threw himself ungracefully into one of the chairs before burying his face in his hands. He took a few long breaths to calm himself, and realised with some surprise that the initial confusion had given way to anger. He was angry, and had difficulty knowing why. He thought back to the discussion with his teacher. He replayed it several times in his mind, hoping to understand what had triggered his irritation. Gradually, he realised that it was the lack of choice that was irritating him. And most of all, he was being forced to parade in front of the whole school and the guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, like a model for a beauty contest. He was going to have to dance in front of all these people, and suffer their scrutinising eyes, who would judge him and criticise all his weaknesses and mistakes. He was getting tired of being a mere puppet to be walked and waved in front of the crowd without consent.

Once again, Professor McGonagall had treated him like a temperamental child rather than trying to understand him. Harry had a certain respect for his Head of House. She was a strong woman, a competent Professor who knew what she was talking about, who had little tolerance for pretence and inaccuracy, both stern and fair in her classroom, but her capacity for empathy seemed to be non-existent, at least as far as he was concerned. She didn't understand that Harry hated being in the spotlight. He hated his reputation, and even more so when he was forced into the limelight against his will. The only time he accepted it was at Quidditch matches, when he was applauded for something he had achieved. He could argue that again, he hadn't really had a choice, but he could count with one hand the decisions made for him whose consequences had been pleasant for him. Then again, Hermione could probably argue by reciting the number of times he had nearly died in a game...

Thinking of Hermione eased his anger a little. He couldn't find words strong enough to express his gratitude to the young woman who had stayed with him, despite the ostracism he had suffered from the rest of the school. Thinking about Ron's attitude made his heart ache. He preferred to concentrate on Hermione. He took long breaths to try and calm himself down. The Ball. He had to go to the Yule Ball with a date. So be it. Naturally, the image of Cho Chang flashed through his mind. Having the pretty Ravenclaw on his arm would certainly be a dream come true. But he scattered the idea. Several rumours, which even he had heard, said she was rather close to Cedric Diggory, the other Champion of Hogwarts, and Harry couldn't imagine Cho preferring him to his fellow Hufflepuff competitor. Cedric was everything Harry wanted to be. Calm. Composed. Master of his own destiny. A loving and supportive family. A quiet force in the school, who everyone was already imagining as Prefect-in-Chief next year. The fact that he was chosen by the Goblet of Fire when he was barely 17 and not even in seventh year was very revealing. As far as he knew, Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum were both 18. Harry felt so insignificant. He wanted to see Hermione but didn't want to be around the other Gryffindor students. He was still struggling to feel comfortable after the events following his name's release from the Goblet of Fire, where the vast majority of the students had treated him as either a cheat or a hero. Although this kind of attitude had diminished since the First Task of the Tournament, he still felt a lot of embarrassment about it. So his friend's presence was often all he wanted.

For a moment he considered asking Hermione to go to the Ball with him. The more he developed this idea the more it made sense to him. Hermione's company was always pleasant, she wouldn't make fun of his mistakes or clumsiness as a dancer. Asking Hermione to be his date was a guarantee that his evening wouldn't be a complete failure. And, he thought to himself with some heat on his cheeks, he had to admit that she was pretty, and she would probably be even prettier in a ball gown. He imagined her in one of the clothes he had seen in books on balls of the past, or in episodes of the series that Aunt Petunia watched and of which he sometimes managed to steal a few scenes before being reprimanded. He let this fantasy live for a while, imagining Hermione close to him, twirling over and over again, her face inches away from his. A noise in the corridor brought him out of his reverie, but no one entered the room. He realised that his cheeks were hot and tried to calm himself down a little. Even if Hermione felt enough pity for him to accompany him to the Ball, he was sure that there were boys far more suitable and worthy than him who would be throwing themselves at him to ask her to be their date. And she deserved to be accompanied by one of them. Hermione was a too amazing young woman for him to spoil her evening by forcing her to spend it with him... even though he would have loved to.

His mood grew even darker at this realisation. Now he had no desire to attend the Ball. If he couldn't go with his best friend, then who else could he trust to support him without acting like a fangirl? He thought about asking one of the three Quidditch Chasers, but they were too close to the Weasley Twins and Lee for them not to propose by tonight. Lavender and Parvati didn't really appeal to him, even though they had never been unpleasant to him and seemed rather intelligent, he thought they were a bit too immature and he didn't think he would offer them good company. Hufflepuffs were out of the question, after their attitude since the selection of the Champions. Most of them had not hesitated to wear one of Malfoy's badges despite Cedric's admonitions. He knew very little about the Ravenclaws, but could hardly imagine any of them wanting to spend the evening with him, who hardly shared their academic spirit. And the Slytherins were out of the question, none of them would want to risk angering Malfoy and he himself would be criticised for days, even weeks, by his classmates and Ron in particular, if he asked any of them. The image of Fleur Delacour crossed his mind for a moment, but he didn't even entertain the idea, it was so ridiculous. Ginny seemed a good idea, but her attitude, which alternated between admiration (from afar) and excessive shyness (up close), did not give a good sign.

Having voted out all the young women of Hogwarts, he found himself sullenly watching the sun go down. How long had he been there? His anger returned, slowly. As if that was all he had to do, waste time on this bloody Ball when he hadn't yet discovered the secret of the golden egg, and had to prepare to survive another year against Voldemort's machinations. Why should he have to put up with such trivia? It wasn't a Tournament Task, he wasn't risking his Magic if he didn't participate, was he? The idea struck him then, fuelled by his anger: to not go to the Ball. As the possibility began to settle in his mind, it gave him a rush of satisfaction that made him shudder. The possibility of this... rebellion was gratifying. Sure, it was childish, but the fact that they imagined he would obey as usual, only to realise too late that he wouldn't comply with their ridiculous demands, was really pleasing. He lost himself in this idea, and finally made his decision. He would not participate in this farce. He was already risking his life for their amusement, being walked around like a trained monkey was the last drop in an already full cup. Hogwarts was his refuge after all those years in the hostile, or at least unfriendly, environment of Privet Drive. He refused to feel disrespected in the only place he felt at home. The prospect of having a plan to deal with this imponderable event reassured him. He firmly decided to hold on to it at all costs. He allowed himself one last thought of him and Hermione dancing together, then closed his eyes and closed his mind on it for good before leaving the classroom.

He looked at the time and saw that it was probably too late for dinner. Too bad, but it didn't matter. He'd kept a few Chocolate Frogs in his trunk since the last Hogsmeade visit, and he could easily conjure up a glass of water. Stocking up on food was a habit he'd picked up over the years and the deprivations of the Dursleys.

When he arrived in the Common Room, he was greeted by an anxious Hermione. She rushed towards him.

"Where have you been? Professor McGonagall said she let you go just a few minutes after us."

"Sorry Hermione" he said guiltily. "I just took a moment to be alone, to think about the egg riddle for a bit. Even though it didn't do much good... In the end, I didn't see the time go by."

He felt a little guilty for lying to her, but he had to keep his plans secret. As supportive and admirable as Hermione was, she was still the girl who didn't like to break the rules, and if she knew that he was planning to disobey an order from their Head of House, she would do anything to dissuade him. She seemed to accept his explanation, and even though she still looked worried, she smiled at him.

"Thank you, Hermione, for your concern. I'm sorry. I'll let you know next time, okay?"

"Okay, Harry" she replied as her smile deepened. "Do you want to get some progress on the Transfiguration paper? I've only just started it."

"That's a good idea, I'll follow you."

His answer made her beam.

The rest of the evening passed like this, between homework and Ron's jokes, which were already starting to talk about the Ball and the 'acceptable' girls to go to. The already apparent stress of some of the Gryffindor boys made him feel better about sparing himself the hassle.

Over the next few days, Harry tried to come up with a plan. He wasn't so stupid as to think that just staying quietly in his dormitory on the night of the Ball would do the trick. And there were at least two people at Hogwarts who could spot him under the Invisibility Cloak, not to mention the heightened senses of Mrs Norris or Professor McGonagall's Animagus. He needed a place to retreat to during the event. Somewhere inaccessible to everyone, where he could be comfortable without being disturbed. Then, about ten days before the Ball, the idea struck him: the Chamber of Secrets. He had to check what state it was in.

He took advantage of a quiet evening on Thursday to collect his broom and cover himself with the Cloak, and he quickly made his way to Moaning Myrtle's toilets, where he was cheerfully welcomed.

"Harry Potter! It's been a long time since you came to see me. I've missed you," she said, blushing.

"Good evening Myrtle" he replied a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry I haven't been around. I'll try to come by more often..."

"Oh, that would be very nice, Harry, I'd always be glad to see you."

"Er, thank you..."

"What are you doing with a broom here anyway?"

"I was going to explore the Chamber of Secrets, just out of curiosity... The broom was to go up the pipe."

He hoped his half-lie wasn't too blatant, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Ah, that's a good idea, indeed. I've seen you fly with it when I go to the Quidditch matches. Do you know I've never missed one of yours? You're so good..."

"Ah. Erm... thanks. Unfortunately, this year there are no matches."

"That's a shame. But your performance against the dragon was worth all your matches. I hope we get to see it again sometime!"

"Well, thanks, yes... Although I'm not looking forward to facing one of those beasts again."

"Don't worry, I'll be happy to welcome you if the dragon kills you, huh huh!"

"That's... nice of you, Myrtle. Uh, I'm gonna go, okay?"

"Oh, all right. By the way, did you know that the other student who was going down there was making stairs appear? I don't know who I was because I didn't dare go out when she came in, but the last time I saw stairs before the wall closed."

"That's useful information, thank you."

Harry positioned himself in front of the sink with the snake, and concentrated a little to say "open" in Parseltongue. With a rumbling sound, the wall opened up to make room for the pipe entrance, just like last time. Harry then said the word 'stairs' and the wall rearranged itself to make the pipe disappear and reveal a series of old stone steps that went down into the darkness. Regretting that he had not thought of this when rescuing Ginny, Harry stepped into the opening, having lit his wand with a sloppy Lumos.

After a minute or two he heard the wall close behind him, and he continued his journey, careful not to fall because of the uneven steps. The descent felt much longer, but it must have been much quicker to slide down than to walk. At the bottom he recognised the room and the skeletons of small animals. He arrived at the rockslide, and flashed flames to the side, to get some light while he made his way with Levitation or Repair spells. It took him almost half an hour, and he hoped he wouldn't finish after curfew. He had promised Hermione that he would be there on time. Arriving at the doors, he took a deep breath, and opened the door in Parseltongue. Immediately a rancid smell of decay caught his nose. The decomposition of the Basilisk's corpse was thankfully over, but it had left a strong stench in the air that would probably take years to leave. Harry decided that the Chamber was not an acceptable refuge, except as a very last resort. He took a moment to walk around it, trying not to let the memories he had of his surroundings get to him. Even dead and decomposed, the Basilisk was still impressive. As Harry had grown, it looked smaller, but was probably twenty meters or more in length. He swallowed at the thought of having faced it without his wand and with only a sword. The Dragon seemed less impressive after all. After a last look around without noticing anything special, Harry started back. The stairs were still in place, and he quickly climbed them. He still had just over half an hour to go back to the Common Room and he wanted to clean himself up a bit to get rid of the smell. He reached the top of the stairs and stood for a minute listening, to make sure no one was there. But when he opened the wall, he gave a startled cry. Professor Dumbledore was standing before him.

"Good evening, Harry."

"Prof... Professor Dumbledore! I..."

He did not continue his sentence, not knowing what to say. Had he broken a rule by going down to the Chamber alone? It's hard to forbidden to going to a place that's supposed to be secret or missing.

"Harry," said the Professor, "can you tell me what you were doing in the Chamber of Secrets at that time?"

"I... I was curious, Professor. I just wanted to see what it was like again, without the pressure, and maybe one day bring Hermione in. And Ron, of course. They're quite curious too. I didn't tell them so that they wouldn't worry, or get their hopes up if it turned out that it was no longer passable."

"Ah, Harry, curiosity can be a good thing, but it can be dangerous. Even if I haven't explicitly forbidden you to go down into the Chamber of Secrets, I'd prefer you not to. You are the only one who can go in there and no one will be able to find you if there is any trouble. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, I didn't think of that. How did you know I was here?"

"I've put an alarm spell on the wall to be warned, there may be mysteries in this room that we haven't found and I want to make sure that no one goes and wakes them up without my knowledge."

"Oh right. Sorry again."

Harry did his best to look repentant. Inwardly he was quite upset that one of his options was no longer available, even though he'd already put a big caveat on it given the conditions. He would have to find somewhere else.

"I promise you, Harry" the Professor told him, "that one day we'll be able to open the Chamber to the public and show its secrets to everyone. But for now, I think it's best to keep it closed. Trust me on that."

"All right, sir. Can I take a few minutes to freshen up, it was really smelly down there?"

The Professor made a few elegant gestures with his wand and immediately the air around Harry seemed to clear.

"I think you'll be fine like this. I'll leave you to wash your hands and go back to Gryffindor Tower. You should be there before curfew."

"Very well, thank you Professor."

Harry hurried back to the Common Room, arriving almost fifteen minutes before curfew. Hermione smiled at him.

"Did it go well Harry?"

"Yes and no. Let's just say I've eliminated some possible ideas."

"Cheer up, you'll find the solution to this egg problem eventually."

"Thank you, Hermione," he replied with a smile.

Ron came and sat next to him on the sofa, looking frantic.

"Hey, Harry" he whispered, "did you find a date for the Ball?"

Harry sighed. Ron had waited almost a week to broach the subject, but he hoped he still had some time for breathing. Fortunately, he had prepared an answer that wasn't a lie.

"Hey Ron" he greeted in the same tone as his interlocutor, "to be honest with you, I didn't need to ask..."

"Ah" Ron said dejectedly, "I should have known that as a Champion, and a Boy-Who-Lived, you would have a choice. So, who is it?

"Sorry, but I've decided to keep the information secret. I don't want her to be harassed next."

"Oh. I guess I'll have to hurry up and find one before I end up with a troll..."

This last comment earned him the ire of both Hermione and Ginny, who verbally trashed him until he fled piteously to the dorm. During the argument, Hermione let it slip that she already had a date, which made Harry's heart clench, but luckily his friends were too busy to notice the involuntary grimace that briefly appeared on his face. He hoped that Hermione's date would respect her. When he went upstairs to bed, the curtains on Ron's bed were closed, and Harry lay back thoughtfully. If the Chamber was no longer an option, he had to find somewhere else. He considered the Shrieking Shack, but he might run into Sirius there, and Sirius probably wouldn't appreciate Harry leaving the safety of the Castle. Besides, it was probably unlivable and cold, and he planned to spend the night in whatever refuge he could find. He turned with a sigh, and tried to fall asleep, ignoring the jealousy of knowing that Hermione wouldn't be dancing with him, and telling himself that he was the only one to blame for this situation. This did not help his mood.

The next day Ron was humiliated after a disastrous attempt to ask Fleur Delacour to be his date. Harry shuddered at the thought that he might have been in his shoes.

The solution came to him a handful of days later. The trio had just returned from the Hogwarts kitchens for the first Monday of the Christmas holidays, which they had discovered two weeks earlier, and it had been the occasion to see Dobby there again, more exuberant than ever. Certainly, this encounter had rekindled the flame of Hermione's House Elf crusade, but as they made their way back upstairs to Hogwarts, Harry was struck by the idea that Dobby probably knew most the secret places in the Castle. A wave of hope came over him as he had been beginning to doubt the feasibility of his plan.

That evening, after dinner and while his friends were doing their homework (more or less enthusiastically depending on the person) he called Dobby into the classroom where he had made his decision after the interview with Professor McGonagall.

"The Great Harry Potter calls Dobby to serve him, it's a great day for Dobby!"

"Hi Dobby. Just call me Harry, okay?"

"Anything for The Great Harry Potter!"

"Hem... How are you? I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Oh, The Great Harry Potter is worried about Dobby, Dobby doesn't deserve it! Dobby is fine, Dobby has finished his evening's work and Dobby is available to help The Great Harry Potter!"

Harry was already tired of the Elf's incredible excitement, but on the other hand, it was nice to have someone so attached to him. Dobby probably deserved more than being forgotten by Harry since the end of Second Year. He had saved his life against Lucius Malfoy. Harry promised himself that he would give the little Elf more time in the future. But for tonight, he had a specific goal in mind.

"Dobby, what I'm about to tell you is a secret and must not be repeated to anyone, okay? Can you do that?"

"Dobby wants to keep The Great Harry Potter secret, but Dobby can't lie if the Professors ask him a question. But Dobby promises that he won't talk if no one asks him, or if it' s not a Professor. Dobby promises!"

It wasn't ideal, but it was his best shot. After all, it was unlikely that anyone would think to ask a House Elf specifically where he was. Besides, if only Dobby was involved, they would have to think about asking him personally. He decided to give it a shot. The Ball was less than a week away, and he needed a plan.

"Alright Dobby, that's fine with me. I would like to know if you know of a place where I could retire on the night of the Ball of the Tournament, as I do not wish to attend. It has to be a place where, at least until the end of the Ball, the Professors can't find me."

"Dobby doesn't understand why The Great Harry Potter doesn't want to show everyone how exceptional he is. But Dobby wants to help The Great Harry Potter. Dobby has an idea, but we have to go to the seventh floor in the big tower!"

"That's fine, there's still time, there's still more than an hour. Will you take me there please?"

"Yes! The Great Harry Potter follows Dobby! We are going!"

The journey went without a hitch, Harry kept the discussion going by asking Dobby how life was at the Castle for the Elves. His answers seemed to indicate that they had a good life, with plenty of rest, and plenty of time to do the chores that were required of them. They helped Mr. Filch, cooked meals, did the laundry, etc. Harry supposed that Hermione would probably find much to complain about, but the apparent happiness on Dobby's face did not give him the impression that the Hogwarts Elves were being martyred. However, a voice deep inside him, which sounded a lot like his best friend's, pointed out that happy or not, a race of conscious beings dedicated to serving others was a truly disturbing concept.

Eventually they came to a hallway, past a painting where Trolls in ballet outfits were trying to squash a wizard in an even more extravagant outfit than Professor Dumbledore. Dobby turned around excitedly, pointing to the wall opposite the painting.

"Here! It's here! The Come-and-Go Room!"

"The Come-and-Go Room? But there's only a wall, Dobby."

"No, it's hidden. You must ask it to appear. Its secret is little known, Dobby doesn't think there's a single Professor or student in Hogwarts who knows that it exists.

"Oh, that's good news. How do you make her appear?"

"The Great Harry Potter has to walk past the wall three times, thinking about what kind of place he wants. If The Great Harry Potter wants a secret place, then the Room will be a secret place!

"Oh. I don't quite understand, I must say."

"The Great Harry Potter has to try! Dobby uses the Room to rest sometimes, or to help Winky.

"All right, I'll try."

Harry was a little hesitant, but the absolute conviction in Dobby's tone reassured him a little. He walked past the wall, repeating to himself, 'I want a place to spend the night and hide from the rest of the Castle'.

A door appeared on the wall, after his third pass. It was no different from the classroom doors in the rest of Hogwarts. He opened it, and entered what appeared to be a warm sitting room, with a comfortable armchair in front of a crackling fireplace, and a bed similar to the one in his dormitory behind a heavy curtain. A dark wooden desk stood against the wall and there was another door at the back with a symbol indicating that it was a shower room. After a few minutes of contemplating and exploring the room, when he turned to speak to Dobby, he found that he had not accompanied him. He came out and found the little Elf bouncing with joy.

"When The Great Harry Potter entered, the door disappeared! And Dobby couldn't make it appear! The Great Harry Potter found a place to be hidden from the rest of Hogwarts!"

"That's great Dobby! I can spend the evening here and not be bothered. Thank you very much, you are a true friend!"

"The Great Harry Potter thinks that Dobby is his friend! Dobby could cry with joy!"

Harry knelt down to be at the Elf's level.

"Of course, you are my friend. You probably saved my life from your former master. Nobody knows what he was planning to do when he attacked me."

"Dobby is proud to have saved The Great Harry Potter."

The little Elf whimpered a little, but he had a gigantic smile on his face. Harry caught himself thinking that the world was not entirely against him after all.

"I have to get back to Gryffindor Tower. I'll see you soon, okay?"

They parted after Harry had thanked Dobby one last time. He walked quietly back to his common room, more cheerful than he had been for a long time now that he had a solution.

As he went to bed that night, he began to imagine how to spend the evening quietly. He would probably have to ask Dobby for a basket of food, which he would hide somewhere on the way to the Come-and-Go Room. Then he could take one of the books Hermione had bought him over the years and read comfortably in front of the fireplace before going to bed and enjoying a night without the snoring of his fellow students. Eventually, the hardest thing will be not to develop a taste for such escapades. But, as he comforted himself with his plans, a thought crossed his mind and distressed him: what would happen next? He was sure that the Professors would come down on him and probably try to reprimand him. First of all, he had to find a way to warn them once he had taken refuge in the Room. The best plan he could come up with was to leave about an hour early, when everyone should be changing at the moment. And when he got there, maybe he could use Hedwig to take a message to Professor Dumbledore, or to Hermione who could warn him. Or both. It was a good idea. He could write a personal letter to Hermione apologising for his absence, and a more formal letter explaining to the Headmaster of Hogwarts that, not being a volunteer Champion, he didn't feel obliged to attend this event and didn't want to.

Harry wasn't so stupid as to think that there would be no consequences. It would probably cost Gryffindor points, though he could always argue that since it was Tournament-related it shouldn't count. Or else he would have to be given points for fighting a Dragon and winning the event. Something told him, however, that this argument would fall flat. But he could always try.

The consequences in terms of reputation were also going to be rather severe. It was very likely that the press would have a field day. He could already see the headline 'Hogwarts Champion humiliates his School with a tantrum'. Because in the end, Harry wasn't fooling himself. It was more or less a tantrum, like the ones Dudley threw when his parents wanted to take him to parties organised by Uncle Vernon's employer. But he needed it. The pressure on his shoulders and the gaze of others was beginning to suffocate him. He had faced a Troll, a Cerberus, a Professor possessed by Voldemort (and killed him), Acromentulas, a Basilisk, Dementors (several times), and finally a Dragon. He had nothing to prove. He was risking his magic, and his life, in a Tournament where no one but his best friend was helping him. He was sure that the other Headmasters had given clues (if not the solution) to the mystery of the egg to the Champions. Professor Dumbledore's morals were admirable, but they left Harry helpless in the face of a danger he was not prepared for. So if he had to play the rebellious teenager to make them understand that he was beginning to be overwhelmed by it all, he was prepared to do so.

Harry's raging thoughts swirled around in his head until late, and it must have been two in the morning when he fell asleep.

He spent the last three days maintaining his calm, while Ron panicked because he still didn't have a date. Harry overheard in conversation that Parvati's sister didn't have a date either, and hesitated to play the middleman. This surprised him greatly, as Parvati and her sister were probably two of the prettiest young women in the fourth year, and many of the boys would have been more than eager to be seen with them... He hoped it wasn't because of her heritage, that would be really stupid. In the end, having no reason to broach the subject with Parvati, he left Ron to his fate. Maybe he'd figure it out eventually, or Ginny would help him if he swallowed his pride enough to ask. Hermione had given him a firm and definite no to any assistance on the matter after his harassment of her to find out who his date was. Which, incidentally, tended to wear on Harry's nerves as he gradually became more and more jealous. He kept telling himself like a mantra that he had no right to be angry with anyone but himself.

On Friday evening, he asked Dobby to prepare a basket with sandwiches and stuff to make tea, and to hide it on Saturday afternoon behind a statue in an alcove on the sixth floor, just before the staircase leading to the Room. He would pick it up on the way. Having completed all the preparations for his plan, he went to bed and fell asleep surprisingly quickly in view of the stress that awaited him the next day.

The next day Harry was startled awake by Dobby offering him a pair of mismatched socks he had knitted himself. Caught off guard, Harry offered him one of his pairs in return. The commotion woke up the rest of his dormitory and the boys opened their presents. Harry was delighted with the book on the Quidditch teams of Great Britain and Ireland that Hermione had given him. He thought it would make good reading for tonight. Mrs. Weasley's jumper had a Hungarian Horntail on it, and was accompanied by several pies which he carefully stored in his trunk.

There was a great snowball fight in the afternoon, before most of the young women attending the Ball retired to the dorms to get ready, eliciting a few quips from the boys less familiar with the rules of women's dress, but which were superbly ignored. Harry waited until after half past six before quietly making his way into the dorm before the other boys. He had prepared a note for Ron, simply saying that he was leaving his robes for him to replace the one Mrs Weasley had bought, as he had another option. He put the scroll and the clothes on Ron's bed and slipped under the Invisibility Cloak. There was no turning back and his heart was pounding in his chest. He barely had time to check that he had all the things he wanted before the dorm door opened and Neville appeared. He took the opportunity to go downstairs quickly, hoping he wouldn't run into anyone on the stairs, because being invisible doesn't make the risk of a collision disappear. Fortunately, he reached the Common Room safely and sped towards the entrance. In the excitement no one noticed the door open and close without anyone crossing the threshold. Harry hurried along the path and finally arrived at the statue on the sixth floor. He decided to remove the cloak so as not to tear it as he twisted to reach the hiding place behind the statue. He grabbed the bag left by Dobby, which seemed very full, and turned to finish the trip, when he nearly bumped into someone.

He held back a cry of shock. In front of him stood a student he remembered having seen from time to time. She had dark blonde hair held back by a few multicoloured barrettes and large blue eyes that seemed to eat up half her face. Earrings with radishes hanging from them and a necklace of beer corks accessorised her untidy Ravenclaw school uniform. The two students stood silently looking at each other for a moment. Harry used this time to calm himself down a little.

"Good evening" he managed to say without stammering.

"You're Harry Potter."

"Ahem. Yes. And you?"

"I'm not Harry Potter, obviously."

"That's... you're right."

He was dumbfounded by the young woman's attitude. She had recognised him perfectly, but was acting like nobody before her with him.

"But then again, I'm Luna Lovegood."

"Nice to meet you, Luna. Uh... What are you doing here, Luna?"

"I was following a trail to find some Nargles, and get my shoe back that they took. What were you doing?"

"I was, uh, out for a walk before the party."

"You got lost behind the statue of Glowinda the Sleeper?"

"Who's the sleeper? Oh, the statue? No, I was just picking up something I left there earlier."

"Did you happen to find my shoe back there?"

"Uh, no, I haven't seen it."

Harry was getting a little anxious. Luna didn't seem to want to leave him alone and he still had to call Hedwig and send the scrolls to Hermione and Professor Dumbledore.

"I should keep looking for it. Or I could go for a walk with you. Where are you going?"

"I'd... rather be alone, Luna, if you don't mind."

"Are you sure?" she asked, tilting her head to the side as if to examine him. "It seems to me that you are alone a lot, Harry Potter."

"I... I have Hermione, and Ron" he replied a little curtly, and immediately felt guilty.

"But they're not here" she replied simply. "They're at the Ball. Everyone says you'll be there too, but you're not. I'm not there because I'm in third year and nobody asked me. Nobody invited you either?"

"That's not... I... Look, Luna, I don't want to talk about it, okay? I won't be at the dance tonight, but I don't want the Professors to find out too soon."

Luna's face brightened suddenly.

"Oh, a secret? I like secrets. And why shouldn't the Professors know about it?"

"They said that as a Champion, I should attend the Ball, but I don't want to."

He didn't even know why he was telling her this. She was just there, listening to him, and for the past two weeks he'd been piling up the stress of his decision, he just needed to let off steam for once. He hoped she wouldn't spoil anything, but anyway, he was very close to the Room. If she went to warn a Professor, he could always hide there before she even managed to find one. But she didn't seem shocked by his words.

"That's your right, I think. And what are you going to do then? Professors tend to get confused by the Wrackspurts, so I doubt they'll let you not go to the party."

Harry made up his mind at that point.

"Look, Luna, if I tell you what I'm going to do, do you agree not to tell anyone?"

"Including you? That's going to be difficult, since you're going to tell me."

"Except me."

"All right, then."

"All right" he said before taking a breath. "There's a special room upstairs that will allow me to stay hidden and prevent the teachers from finding me during the evening."

"Oh? I don't know it! Can you show it to me please?"

He hesitated, but at this point there wasn't much he could do.

"Okay, come with me."

They went upstairs and arrived at the painting. Harry walked past the wall three times, thinking 'I'd like a place to stay hidden at night' and the same door as last time appeared. Luna's eyes opened even wider, which Harry thought was impossible. It was almost disturbing.

"This is the Come-and-Go Room, Luna. If you walk past the wall three times thinking of a place you'd like to see appear, and if no one is already using the Room, it will appear."

"The Castle is full of secrets, but this one is absolutely and totally unique."

Harry was amused by Luna's ecstatic look, and he opened the door. The room was a little different from the first time. Instead of having a curtain to separate the bed, there were two doors on either side of the fireplace, which he guessed led to rooms, and two armchairs in front of the fireplace, as well as a small table with two chairs. He was shocked at the implication, but had no time to react as Luna walked past him and sat down in an armchair.

"I have a feeling we're going to have a good evening, Harry Potter. Not everyone will be as comfortable as we will be tonight."

After another minute of staring, Harry came to his senses. If Luna wanted to stay, he would have to deal with it. He didn't have time for that. The priority was to call Hedwig to carry the letters he kept in his bag. He didn't even have time to turn around to call her when he saw her glide into the room and land on the back of Luna's chair. As much as he loved that owl, he sometimes found her a little scary with her habit of always knowing when he needed her. He petted her by stroking her head and she hooted softly. He then attached the two letters to his paw.

"Hi Hedwig! The first letter is for Hermione, you'll give it to her as soon as she gets out of the dormitory, okay? And then you'll take the second one to Professor Dumbledore, or Professor McGonagall if he's not available, please. Is that all right? Then you're free to do what you like, but you can't join me again until I'm out."

She hooted a second time before nipping his finger without pressing with her beak. She flew away silently and passed through the door again, which he closed after her.

"Hedwig is a special owl, do you know that, Harry Potter? I've never seen a bird as clever as her."

"Yes, Hedwig is a faithful and irreplaceable companion."

"What are these letters you sent?"

"There's a letter to Hermione apologising for not being at the ball and seeing that she is even more exceptional than I thought. And another one to Professor Dumbledore to tell him formally that I won't be at the Ball and that there's no point in waiting for me. I don't want my absence to disrupt the whole organisation, although there is a good chance that they will waste time trying to find me."

"That's very considerate of you, at least for the organisation of the Ball. But are you sure your apology will be enough for your friend?"

"I don't think so, but I don't want her to be anxious about the evening. I want her to concentrate on her partner and she deserves to have a nice evening away from my worries."

"I hope she understands. You deserve some rest."

"Thanks Luna."

The two students remained silent for a while, though not particularly uncomfortably so. Luna stared at the flames in the fireplace with fascination while Harry thought about the rest of the evening. He tried not to think about what would happen when the recipients of his letters received them. He had decided on this night off because he needed a breather, and he was going to enjoy it. Luna's company was not unpleasant, and she didn't seem to want to leave or go to warn anyone. He got up to search the bag that Dobby had left for him. The little Elf had planned big, and he could share with Luna without restricting himself. There was a plethora of sandwiches, and even a few bottles of Butterbeer. And an assortment of tea bags and herbal teas. Just as he thought of turning something into a teapot, one appeared on the table.

"It seems that this Room holds a great power" Luna said dreamily. "It can make whatever you wish appear."

"If I had known, I wouldn't have asked Dobby to bring food, I would have made it appear in the room."

"Don't be silly Harry Potter" Luna laughed pointlessly. "Food can't be conjured, those are the laws of magic."

"Oh. I didn't know that. I grew up in a Muggle household Luna" he replied a little offended.

"That's no reason not to learn. I'm sure Hermione Granger knows that rule, and she doesn't have any more experience with magic than you do."

"She certainly has more time to read than I do on her holidays" he grumbled.

Luna looked at him again, tilting her head, as if trying to read secrets he wasn't necessarily ready to reveal. She looked puzzled.

"You're offended" she said.

"I don't... It's not very pleasant to be called ignorant, you know."

"Why can't you read on your holidays? You look intelligent for someone with such a cluttered mind. I'm sure you'd love to learn more about magic and the world."

"It's... complicated."

"Can't you read?"

"Luna! Of course, I can read! But my relatives, my aunt and uncle, who I live with, don't really like I... wasting my time with this stuff."

"They must be very dull people."

"That's probably one of the best definitions I've ever heard of them" he said with a smile.

"Were you going to make tea?"

Harry filled the teapot with an aguamenti and then stirred the water with another wave of his wand. He thought absently that he was getting the hang of domestic spells. He inserted one of the green tea bags before closing the ceramic. He asked the Room to make two cups appear. They waited a few minutes before he served the drink. Luna picked up her cup in an elegant manner, which contrasted strangely with her nonchalant attitude until then. She must have noticed his astonishment.

"My mother told me that drinking tea is always a ceremony."

"Your mother is probably right. Do you drink tea with her often?"

"Not anymore, she died when I was nine."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Luna."

"What's that for? It's not your fault" she questioned him seriously.

"No, I... nothing. I just think it's sad, that's all."

"And yet you lost your parents, while I still have my father."

"I'm still sad for you. I'm sure she must have been an exceptional woman, just like you."

"The other students don't care about my sadness; you are amazing Harry Potter."

"I'm not amazing, I'm just... someone who would like to be your friend."

Luna froze, the cup of tea inches from her mouth, and she stared at him harder than ever for long seconds, never blinking. He thought he saw her eyes shine a little too brightly as she put her tea down, shaking slightly. She stood up calmly and walked towards him. Luna grabbed his cup, and placed it on the table as well, then threw herself around his neck for a hug worthy of Hermione's best. He reflexively tightened his arms around her as he felt her tremble and sob against him. They stood there for a long moment without speaking, as the brightness of the Hall dimmed to create a little more privacy for them.

In the Gryffindor Tower, Hermione was preparing to leave her dormitory. She felt a little ridiculous, despite all the effort she and her classmates had put into her outfit. She was still amazed that Lavender and Parvati spent so much time on her, almost more than on themselves. And yet they looked lovely. Parvati's sari showed off her slim, slender silhouette, while Lavender's growing curves were particularly well presented without ever being vulgar. They had come downstairs a few minutes ago, giggling and smiling mischievously, while she finished tying her shoes. She looked at her watch and saw that she had just over twenty minutes to go to the Great Hall. She hoped Viktor liked her outfit and didn't regret inviting her. Even if the fact of being on the arm of a man almost three years older than her was a little disturbing, he had promised her that his invitation was both sincere and without ulterior motive. He just wanted to spend a nice evening with someone who seemed to be sufficiently detached from his reputation. It was flattering, she recognised that. However, in the back of her mind, she had hoped for a moment that Harry would ask her to the Ball. But she was only his best friend, and there were so many more beautiful young women in the Castle...

She thought about his attitude over the last few weeks. He had become more secretive, disappearing regularly and coming back without ever really explaining what he was doing. When he'd admitted to Ron that he hadn't needed to ask anyone to be his date for the Ball, she'd started to think that he might be sneaking off to meet his future date. She'd done everything she could to quell her burgeoning jealousy, and take refuge in the satisfaction that she'd been invited by one of the best matches currently at Hogwarts. She felt a little childishly smug at the thought of the look on many people's faces when they saw who she was on the arm.

But most of all, she couldn't help but hope that Harry would notice her outfit and appreciate it, even if it was unlikely. She sighed; she had no time to waste. She walked out of the dormitory, and barely had time to take a few steps before she heard a rustle of wings in the corridor. Hedwig was standing on a staircase railing, looking at her with an affectionate expression. Hermione couldn't help but find the owl beautiful once again. She noticed that Hedwig had two envelopes on her paw. She walked over and saw that the first one had her name on it. Surprised, she quickly untied it and the bird flew off with the other one, which she barely had time to read the name of the recipient. "Why would Harry write to Professor Dumbledore tonight?" she thought. Impatient and curious, she quickly opened her own scroll.

Hermione,

I'll make this quick as you certainly don't have time to waste at the moment: I won't be at the ball tonight. We can discuss it tomorrow if you like, but to cut a long story short, I'm not a volunteer Champion and I don't want to be at the party. I've retired somewhere safe and comfortable, don't worry.

I want you to know that my biggest regret will be not being able to see you in your dress, I'm sure you look lovely.

If I hadn't made that decision, and if I had attended this Ball, I sincerely hope I would have had the courage to ask you to be my date.

I hope your date treats you like a queen, like you deserve. And that Colin will have taken pictures of you, I will certainly buy him some if he does.

With all my affection, I wish you a very pleasant evening.

Harry.

Hermione was shocked. She knew at once what was in the letter that Harry had sent to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. And another feeling came over her: disappointment. She realised that she had wanted Harry to see her in her dress even more than she thought. She took a few breaths to calm herself. She wanted to be angry with Harry, but she recognised his right not to want to attend the Ball. The choice had not been left to him, as she understood it. She hoped that the consequences would not be too serious. She was a little disappointed that he had not warned her, but if she was honest with herself, there was a significant chance that she had tried to dissuade him from this project. She assumed that he had found a place sufficiently concealed not to be found tonight. At least, she hoped so for his sake, for the Professors' reaction would not be happy if they found him before the end of the evening.

She read the note again, and her heart beat a little faster. He wrote such nice things about her. And that he had thought of her as a potential date was unexpected, and made her cheeks hot. For a moment she imagined herself waltzing with him on the dance floor, and she had to hold on to the railing to keep from wobbling down the stairs. She folded the letter and slipped it into a secret pocket of her dress, along with her wand. He wished her a good evening, and she was going to do just that. Tomorrow she would have many questions to ask him. She only had a few minutes left so she wouldn't be late, and she didn't feel like running in those heels.

Professor Dumbledore was chatting in the corner of the Great Hall with Professor Babbling about the last of the Quibbler's Runes puzzles when he spotted Harry Potter's owl coming towards him. The bird landed on a nearby chair and held out its paw defiantly. Albus carefully unhooked the parchment with his name on it and let the owl fly away gracefully. The note was short.

Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall,

I won't be at the ball tonight. I am not a volunteer Champion and therefore do not feel obliged to attend.

I ask you in advance not to waste time looking for me if you feel like it. I am in a hidden and perfectly safe place.

I wish you a good evening.

Harry Potter.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts closed his eyes for a moment and sighed deeply. He had to go and warn his Deputy Headmaster not to expect the second Hogwarts Champion tonight. And try to calm the irascible Scotswoman down when she heard about what she thought was a Gryffindor defection. And still send a few Elves to look for her student just in case, but most of them were monopolised by serving the guests at the Ball.

Luna had left Harry's arms a little while ago, and all traces of her emotional crisis had been erased. They were sitting on opposite sides of the table, finishing their second cup of tea, discussing light-hearted matters concerning classes and Teachers, or the differences between the Houses' accommodations for students. Contrary to popular rumour, Ravenclaw did have a private library, but it did not contain rare tomes that were unavailable to other students. Essentially, it was a collection of the dissertations and theses of previous students of the House, many of which were now out of date, or proven wrong. There were also copies of most of the textbooks needed for the seven years at Hogwarts. They were, however, kept for documentation and study. On the Gryffindor side, Luna was impressed by all the chairs, sofas and other places of comfort and discussion. Ravenclaw was a much more studious place to work, but Gryffindor seemed to be a very warm and friendly place.

There was a slight lull in the conversation, and Harry offered to eat. He took the sandwiches and the Buttercups out of the bag, and asked Luna what she preferred as a garnish.

"I don't suppose there's a peanut butter, cucumber and pear mixture?"

"No, it doesn't seem to be. There's a cucumber, carrots and what looks like mayonnaise."

"Okay for this. And I'll have a chicken sandwich as well."

"There's enough for both of us, don't worry. Dobby must have thought I had Hagrid's appetite..."

Harry for himself took a chicken sandwich as well and one with corned beef, which reminded him of the first trip with the Hogwarts Express, when he had exchanged sweets for one of Ron's sandwiches. It was a happy memory, of a time when life was simple and full of promise. A little over three years later, he'd nearly died ten times, hadn't managed to make many friends, and was alternately adored and hated, mostly for reasons beyond his control. He shook his head. This was no time to feel sorry for himself. He was eating very good sandwiches with a slightly whimsical but by no means unpleasant company.

Past the frustration of having to speak slowly and choose her vocabulary carefully so as not to lose the person she was talking to, Hermione was actually having a good time. She tried not to think about the exploitation of the House Elves, and promised herself that she would check on them tomorrow to make sure they hadn't overstretched themselves. Viktor was a cultured boy, much more so than she would have expected from a professional athlete. Next to her, Fleur was not to be outdone, a little more acerbic and haughty, but with a particularly thoughtful and composed world view. Opposite her, Cho and Cédric also animated the discussion with several pertinent remarks. Cho in particular had a vision of two very different cultures with his Chinese roots. Only poor Roger remained on the sidelines, too fascinated by his date to make a constructive contribution. Until he asked the question that everyone was avoiding out of delicacy:

"Why isn't Potter here?"

Even though he hadn't asked her directly, it was obvious that only Hermione could answer. She closed her eyes for a second, searching for the best answer.

"Harry didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire, so he's not a Champion on purpose. He agreed to compete in the Tasks to avoid the punishment of the magical contract, but the Ball was not part of it and he did not want to participate."

Everyone seemed to accept this answer, although Roger gave a mocking snort. Viktor simply nodded and Fleur looked pensive. Cedric made a remark suggesting that Harry had probably made the right choice, if the Gryffindor student's dancing skills were as good as his own, and Cho replied with a look of commiseration that he would do well enough tonight not to humiliate the school. The discussion turned to the upcoming dance and the subject of Harry Potter was put aside, if not forgotten.

There were still one or two sandwiches left, but Luna and Harry were no longer hungry. Harry was still amused by what he could only describe as exuberant ecstasy, namely Luna's reaction to his unveiling of Christmas puddings for dessert. He could see that she'd had to go to great lengths to leave him one, while she'd tried to discreetly hog the other three.

Harry would have liked to finish with a cup of hot chocolate, but he hadn't thought to ask Dobby to add milk to the bag. Too bad, they'd have to settle for a berry infusion. As he went through the steps of making the infusion, Luna finished the last of the pudding with a look of absolute contentment.

"Harry Potter, this is one of the best Christmases I've had in a while."

"Didn't you want to go back to see your father this year?"

"No, he's on a trip somewhere in Colombia, looking for Coatl."

"Coatl?" asked Harry intrigued. The name sounds familiar.

"Coatl are snakes that are partly feathered and have wings. They can camouflage themselves along jungle trees, and they can travel in the Spirit World. Muggles worshipped them centuries ago, and even had a god called Quetzalcoatl."

"Oh yes, I heard about it in a series Dudley was watching."

"Coatl are emotionally sensitive, and Dad thinks they'll be more likely to be seen at Christmas."

Harry thought back to Luna's comment, and wondered. How could a Christmas spent confined with another student who was almost a stranger three hours before be a good time?

"Don't you like spending Christmas with your father?"

"My mum and dad and I used to spend Christmas at the Weasley house. Ginevra and I used to disappear under the table, tie the adults' shoes together or steal pastries from the kitchen before Mrs Weasley or my mum brought them to the table. She and I were always together, as her brothers weren't around much for her. Ronald, especially, always found it very difficult to enjoy her company. Even if, for what I know, like all his brothers, he loves his sister. When my mother died, everything changed. I had to take care of my father, who was very sad to lose her, and Mrs Weasley convinced Ginevra that we shouldn't be disturbed. Which didn't make much sense, because I would have loved to have company. My father's changed demeanour then persuaded Mrs Weasley that Ginevra was probably better off away from us. I hoped that we would get together during the first year at Hogwarts, but Ginevra was withdrawn and a dark aura surrounded her. Then she stayed to her own side afterwards, and I didn't want to go and disturb her. Most of the students who know me think I'm a weirdo, and I don't want her to feel she has to keep me company and risk being looked down upon by the school. And so, I haven't had a good Christmas since then."

Harry was particularly saddened to hear Luna's story. He thought back to Ginny's behaviour during the three years she had spent at Hogwarts. The first year, lost between her dread of changing places and the slow possession of Voldemort through Tom Riddle's diary, she had been a reclusive and silent student. Then, in her second year, she had long periods of withdrawal and seemed to find it hard to make friends. Her classmates hadn't had the opportunity to get close to her in the previous year, and she still had sometimes a haunted look that struck other students. This year it seemed to be going better, she was happier and more sociable, and she hadn't hidden her joy at the idea of being invited by Neville to the Ball, even if she still gave Harry wistful looks. He thought that perhaps he would try to reconnect the two old friends during the holidays. Luna deserved not to be alone, and Ginny could certainly do with another friend.

"Harry Potter, what did you do with the egg you stole from the Dragon? You didn't eat it I hope?"

The question caught Harry by surprise in the middle of his thoughts.

"No, it's a metal egg, there's a riddle in it about the second Task of the Tournament!"

"It wasn't a real dragon's egg? But then, the eggs crushed by the Fireball were not real either?"

"Unfortunately, I think so. The golden egg was placed in the middle of the dragon eggs."

"This is criminal. Do you know that the Fireball only nest every thirty years or so? And that only one or two eggs hatch in the end? Viktor Krum should have been punished."

In the Great Hall, as the Champions were about to get up and dance, the Durmstrang student sneezed violently.

"Can you show me the golden egg, Harry, please?"

"It's still in the dormitory, sorry. I don't want to risk going out of the Hall before tomorrow morning and the end of curfew."

"Perhaps the Room can make it appear?"

"I'll try."

Harry concentrated on asking the Room to bring the egg to him. In response, a door appeared in the nearest wall. Luna was the first to get up and open it. Behind the door was the Gryffindor fourth year boys' dorm.

"This is an interesting find" said Harry. "I'll go and get the egg and come right back."

"Wait!"

Harry paused just before he stepped through the door, and turned a questioning look to Luna.

"If you go through the door" she explained, "and you're the one who controls the Room and made her appear, who knows if she'll disappear and I'll get thrown out of the Room?"

"That's good thinking. Do you want to go?"

"I think that's best. Where's the egg?"

"It's just sitting on my bedside table."

Luna walked through the door and turned around, reassuring Harry that it hadn't disappeared. She trotted back to his bed and returned with her loot. Harry took the opportunity to look around and saw that Ron's robe was lying on his bed, indicating that he had taken advantage of his offer. He hoped that he had thought to cast some small enlargement spells on the sleeves and legs, but the result would be far less ridiculous than the frilly one his mother had bought him anyway. Luna went into the Room and he closed the door, which disappeared.

The music sounded as Hermione began to follow Viktor's rhythm. She didn't have particularly small hands, but hers seemed tiny in his. Viktor was the epitome of politeness. His other was resting on his hip and did not venture an inch beyond what she considered acceptable. He looked serious and grave, and focused exclusively on her. She did not feel undressed by his gaze as she had feared. He seemed to think of her as one of his Quidditch partners rather than as a date. To him, they must be performing just as he was performing his matches. On the one hand, this attitude greatly comforted her and she felt more at ease. But her more "feminine" side, as she called it, was a little disappointed. Sure, she would have much preferred to spend the evening in Harry's arms, but she would have appreciated, in an unusual burst of vanity, if her dressing up efforts had received more attention. However, the dance was enjoyable. Viktor was a partner who was determined and unhesitating, and following his lead was easy. By the time the music ended, she was a little out of breath and felt her cheeks flush, while he was almost unruffled. But as they parted, he smiled surprisingly, and leaned in to kiss her hand, which made her blush even more. Finally, she thought, she would be able to grant Harry's wish that she had a nice evening.

The young Ravenclaw was smiling brightly as she admired the golden egg in her hands. Harry knew it by heart, having studied it in his spare time, either alone or with Hermione. Ron had given up on it some time ago, repelled by the shrill, inhuman screams it emitted whenever it was opened. The only progress they had made was identifying the carvings as underwater scenes or water features. He watched as Luna turned the object in her hands, sometimes bringing it to within inches of his eyes, mumbling nonsensical words.

Finally, she placed the egg on the table. She looked excited, as if this object contained one of the secrets of the universe.

"There is a hinge, have you seen it?"

"Yes, that was one of the first things we found. The egg can open, and then it emits a shrill scream that tends to give you a headache."

"Oh? That sounds familiar."

She looked at the egg again, her brows furrowed in intense concentration, which amused Harry greatly. She looked a bit like Hermione when faced with a particularly complex Arithmancy or Transfiguration assignment. He found himself thinking back to the many times he had seen this expression on his friend, when she would bite her lower lip a little and absentmindedly run her hand through her hair, accentuating its natural chaotic appearance. He had seen Hermione like this so much, but now that he thought about it, it was with an affection he had never felt before, or at least not paid attention to. He was brought out of his thoughts by the shrill howl that came from the egg and startled him. Just as he was about to clamp his hands over his ears, a pair of earmuffs appeared in his right hand. He hurriedly put them on and, noting the near-total effectiveness of the object, said a small prayer of thanks in his head for the person or persons who had designed this room. Luna was unperturbed, nodding her head from right to left as if trying to better pick up the sounds the object was making. After two or three minutes, a record for Harry who had never left the egg open for more than a minute, she closed it and sat down, massaging her temples. Harry then removed the earmuffs.

"How are you, Luna?" he worried. "It's not an experience I'd advise even my worst enemy to undertake."

"Is it? Wouldn't you like to open the egg in the Slytherin dormitory, next to Draco Malfoy's bed after you've trapped it somewhere inaccessible and protected it from the Silence Spells?"

"On second thought, it sounds like an interesting idea, presented like that. If they allow us to keep this egg after the Tournament, I think I'll lend it to Fred and George with an explanatory note..."

"It is indeed a very unpleasant experience. But it's mostly the fault of the person who recorded it and added an amplification spell. This is pure sadism in my opinion. There was no need, their voices are shrill enough as it is."

"What do you mean by that? Do you know what that is?"

"Of course, don't you? I recognised it from the first seconds."

Luna was calm and a little puzzled by Harry's attitude. He was looking at her with his eyes wide open and his mouth wide open. After a few seconds he recovered.

"What... But Hermione and I have been studying this Egg for weeks! And... Rah!"

She walked over to him and patted him gently on the shoulder to calm him down.

"Calm down, Harry. There's no need to get upset. All you had to do was come and ask me, but we didn't know each other yet. Which is a pity, I know, but we've got our whole lives to change that. Don't you agree?"

Harry took several deep breaths which drove back his frustration at his own incompetence.

"You're right."

"You'll learn that's often the case."

"I believe you. Between you and Hermione, I'll never have the last word again..."

"You underestimate yourself greatly, Harry Potter. You have qualities that Hermione and I would probably dream of having. I saw you cast the Patronus Spell last year during the Quidditch match. You were thirteen. I can guarantee you that I am totally incapable of it. It requires a capacity for concentration and an ability to manipulate magic that many adult Witches and Wizards can't even pretend to have. You're special, just like I am, and Hermione, and every single Hogwarts student, each in their own way."

"Thank you, Luna."

They were silent for a moment, before Harry remembered where the discussion had come from.

"You recognised the screams from the egg then?"

"It's not a scream. It's the language of the Merpeople."

"Merpeople? Is there really such a thing?"

Harry was a little sceptical, given the phantasmagorical creatures Luna had already mentioned during the evening. But Mermaids were beings that had at least a mythological existence, unlike Wrackspurts and the like...

"Of course! My father and I first encountered them when we travelled from Denmark to Sweden on an expedition to search for the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. They tried to communicate with us, but we did not understand. Their words were very similar to what is recorded in the egg. The pilot of the ship we were on told us that we had to go underwater to understand them. But Dad said we didn't have time this time. And I haven't had a chance to go back since... It was these mermaids that inspired Andersen's tale."

"So, to listen to the egg, I have to go underwater with it?"

"Sounds like a good idea. Shall we do it?"

"Now?"

"Yes, you can ask the Hall to make a pool appear, or a big bathtub."

"But... I... We don't have a swimming costume!"

"No, I never wear one. Do you?"

"But... I..."

Since joining Hogwarts, Harry had never had the opportunity to swim. And before that, he had only taken part in one session with the school, before the school called the Dursleys to tell them that the PE teacher thought Harry was very thin for his age. Aunt Petunia had then given him a medical dispensation the next day not to participate in PE classes, especially swimming. And of course, they never took him to the beach.

"Luna, I'm not comfortable with the idea of us not wearing them."

"Oh, too bad."

"I'll have the Room make them appear, and we'll change in the bedrooms. I'll have a big bathtub appear in the shower room."

"All right, if you like it like this..."

They changed quickly, the Room had given Luna a black one-piece swimming costume, very classic, and Harry had a pair of knee-length swimming shorts of the same colour. He still gulped at the sight of Luna's body, as he was still a fourteen year old boy near a young woman in a swimming costume. He concentrated on the egg and the need for a bathtub big enough for both of them to dip their heads in. When they entered the bathroom, there was indeed a large stone bathtub with several taps, which was already filled with water. When he dipped his hand in to test the temperature, he realised that it was hot enough without being scalding. He didn't even have time before Luna jumped in, splashing him widely in the process. She turned around with a sly smile.

- So, Harry Potter, how much longer are you going to stand there?

In a moment of levity that he had rarely experienced in his life, Harry launched himself into a water fight with Luna, both of them laughing out loud.

Hermione was taking a break after several dances. While most had been with her date, she had also danced with Cedric, and then with Roger. Cedric had been a real gentleman, complimenting her gently on both her dress and her dancing skills, and she could see that Cho had been right when he said that Cedric underestimated his. He was as comfortable on the dance floor as he was on his broom, and although his steps were basic, they were fluid and controlled. Roger had been a less pleasant companion. While he hadn't made any inappropriate gestures, his arrogance (certainly increased tenfold by the idea of being the date of the most beautiful woman currently at Hogwarts) and the fact that he had several times given the impression of undressing her with his eyes had really bothered her. However, she was forced to admit that he was the best dancer she'd had all evening, confident and daring, but she wasn't going to have another one with him.

She told Viktor that she was going to get some fresh air for a while. She pulled tightly around her shoulders the shawl she had brought with her and enchanted it with a Warmth Spell, and walked out of the Great Hall following the cool air that came from the Great Door, but which was regulated just enough to cool without making you cold. She stepped through the door and was struck by the cold. The snow had stopped falling and the gardens were covered in a thick, immaculate layer, glowing under the floating lights and the little Christmas fairies that twirled between the bushes. It was an excellent evening. She had been afraid to stand out among the older students, but apart from Fleur's date, everyone had regarded her with respect and seriousness. Fleur had been a revelation, and had shown herself to be a person of sharp intelligence and a most pleasant conversationalist, far removed from the haughty attitude she usually displayed, especially as her grasp of English was superior to Viktor's. Cho was a cheerful and cultured person whom she would be delighted to get to know better, and Cedric was the poised and competent boy everyone imagined him to be. And Viktor, of course, was a gentleman in every way, even if he was more difficult to talk to because of his limited understanding of English, he treated her as an equal and responded seriously to the topics she brought up. This only added to her frustration at Harry's absence. How she wished he had been there, and that he could have been included in such an interesting group. She could have shown him other sides of the Wizarding world, other points of view than those of his usual close circle. She often had the feeling that he was afraid to look too far, to get involved, and that he preferred to stay back and go with the flow. Yet he could sometimes show a confident, leading personality that left her rather amazed. When he flew during Quidditch matches, or against the Dragon, or when he had scattered dozens of Detractors single-handedly only six months ago. It was a shame that he only let that side of him come out when he was cornered. If only she knew how to push him to cultivate these qualities...

She heard the snow crunch behind her, and turned around. Ron was standing a few steps away from her, looking rather elegant in a suit that mixed dark green and black with a white shirt. Not necessarily the best combination with his red hair, but a far cry from the monstrosity that Mrs. Weasley had bought, and that she had seen on the train. Hermione had thought it was a bit cruel of Ron's mother. The suit didn't exactly fit Ron, but when he moved it didn't show. The left sleeve seemed a little longer than the right though.

"Hi, Hermione" he began. "Are you getting some air?"

"Yes, I started to get hot from dancing. I hesitated between sitting down to rest my feet or taking a breath."

"You certainly didn't miss any opportunity to dance, considering your companionship."

There was a certain bitterness in his tone of voice that made her frown.

"My companionship? Are you talking about Viktor? Or the other Champions?"

"Yes, I'm talking about him. And them too. You'd rather go with them than stay with your friends."

Hermione was shocked by Ron's criticism.

"Sorry? I didn't 'prefer', I simply accepted Viktor's invitation. He was the first one to invite me to the Ball, while my friends did not."

"You could have waited a little longer, so that we could be sure that no one else was there!"

"Excuse me?"

"I was going to ask you to go with me, if I had no one else."

Hermione felt the attack as if it had been physically delivered, a blow to her chest that choked her slightly.

"You... Do you realise what you're saying? Do you realize that you consider me a... a spare tire? Is that all I am to you? Someone to fill the hole when there's nothing better? Just something to do your homework and wait for you to pay attention?"

"That's not what I said and..."

"SHUT UP!"

Her scream echoed in the night. She was furious, enraged. In a few words, he had crushed almost all the confidence this evening had given her. She hated him for knowing how to bring out the worst in her so easily.

"You're mean Ron, only slightly better than Malfoy" she said in a voice that trembled with rage. "You have no consideration for others, you're selfish and self-centred. Hogwarts is not about you, you should realise that one day."

She was being deliberately cruel to him, and was probably exaggerating the situation by comparing him to Draco, but she didn't care. She was too angry to care.

"You have no compassion" she continued, "and you never think before you speak. I don't want you near me tonight, Ron!"

She was hurrying back to the castle when he called her.

"That's right, go find Viktor. The famous dark and tall Champion who is your best friend's enemy. You know, Harry Potter? Are you having fun telling your darling all his secrets? No wonder Harry didn't want to come to Bel after such a betrayal..."

Once again, she felt resentment suffocating her. This accusation was despicable. How dare he imagine that she would tell Harry's secrets like that?

"Shut up!" she shouted. "You don't know what you're saying. Has Harry told you why he's not here tonight?"

"Why else but to not face his friend's treachery?"

"Maybe he just didn't want to be there because he doesn't like to be in the limelight!"

"But he is a Champion!"

"HE DIDN'T WANT IT! Why don't you understand that he didn't want to participate in the Tournament and he still doesn't want to? He is not interested in the Ball!"

Ron was taken aback for a moment, as the point seemed to hit home, but he recovered.

"Anyway" he added snappishly, "it's not as if he had a choice, seeing as you were scaring all the girls away from him."

"What? What are you talking about?

"No girl dares go near Harry because you're always on his tail! I'm sure he didn't invite anyone just so he wouldn't hurt your feelings, when he could have found much better, even though you used a dozen spells tonight to improve your appearance!"

This time she felt the tears welling up. The only thing that stopped her from giving in to the despair caused by Ron's words was the letter from Harry, which she felt through her dress as she pressed her hand to it. She thought about what it said.

I want you to know that my biggest regret will be not being able to see you in your dress, I'm sure you look lovely.

If I hadn't made that decision, and if I had attended this Ball, I sincerely hope I would have had the courage to ask you to be my date.

She took several breaths, letting the anger ebb a little. She also felt her wand under her hand, next to the letter, but she held back from casting a spell at Ron, she doubted she had enough control not to use a particularly vicious one. The image of Ron throwing up slugs flashed through her mind, but she pushed it away firmly. She preferred to think of Harry, and how much she wished he were here. Even though he tended to avoid meddling in their conflicts and often left her alone against Ron, he was a reassuring presence for her.

"Ronald Weasley" she said in a voice firmer than she expected, "you have crossed the line. You're going to leave me alone tonight, and don't speak to me again. I hate you and don't you dare come to see me. I won't let you near me again unless you apologise."

She turned on her heels and ran off in a hurry. Fortunately, he did not add anything and did not pursue her. She hurried to the Great Hall, awkwardly wiping away the few tears that had fallen. She dodged attention by walking along the walls to the toilets. Fortunately, the toilets appeared to be empty, and she took a moment to relax by leaning on the edge of a washbasin. The mirror reflected her slightly reddened eyes, but luckily Lavender's make-up was proving foolproof. The door opened and she hurried back to a more nonchalant position. She turned her head and saw that it was Fleur who had returned. The latter studied her for a moment, and immediately seemed to notice that something was wrong.

"Hermione? What's going on?" she asked in her thicker accent than during the discussion earlier.

"Nothing. Just a bad encounter that I've been paying more attention to than I should have. And that was a long time ago."

"Many men are pigs, not worth the attention you give them."

"That's a bit of an extreme philosophy, isn't it?"

"How do you think I've survived until now? Since I was a teenager, I have been pursued by men of all ages. It was worse when I had no control over my powers."

"I feel sorry for you."

"Thank you. But I guess that's not the problem you have tonight."

"No. But don't worry, I'm just a little sensitive. The evening was going too well, I suppose."

"Hermione, you're a fine young woman, and your company is a pleasure. Don't let what some people say stop you from enjoying the ball. If you give me two minutes to freshen up, I'll walk you back to our table, Viktor was starting to want to go after you."

"Thank you very much, Fleur. Can you not tell the others about what happened, please?"

"I promise."

While Fleur was doing her ablutions, Hermione couldn't resist reading Harry's letter again. His words lifted her spirits, and she was reassured when Fleur offered her arm to join the other Champions.

After the water battle, Luna and Harry had relaxed in the bath. Luna had told him how she had tried to tame a Grindilow last year, and it was Professor Sprout who had saved her as she passed by the Lake. Luna only claimed that the creature wanted to hug her, but Harry was secretly relieved that the Hufflepuff Headmistress had made the young Ravenclaw promise never to do it again at Hogwarts. He remembered Professor Lupin's lecture on the creature and how dangerous he had found it.

They decided it was time to deal with the egg. Harry dipped it into the water, and opened it. He expected to hear the same cry, muffled by the water, but instead he heard a voice.

- We have to go under the water, Harry! Come on!

Luna barely took a deep breath before dipping her head below the surface. Harry had no choice but to follow her. To his surprise, the voice was now clearly distinct. It was a melodious song.

Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground,

And while you're searching ponder this;

We've taken what you'll sorely miss,

An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took,

But past an hour, the prospect's black,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.

Harry and Luna went back to listen to the song several times, until she had the idea of asking him to conjure up a feather and some waterproof parchment. She reminded him that it would then have to be copied onto material not from the Hall, as it was unlikely to be taken anywhere else.

Once they had copied the song, they took the egg out of the water and dried themselves off before getting dressed to ponder the lyrics.

"What's the most important thing to you, Harry Potter?"

"Probably my father's cloak. It's a family heirloom, if I understood what was explained to me."

"Surprising, I wouldn't have said that."

"That's probably not the most important point. How can I find something that's under the ground? Am I going to have to dig up the earth?"

"Probably not. Or the riddle would have been in Gobbledegook."

"What do you mean, Luna?"

"The egg is decorated with underwater scenes, and the riddle is sung in water language."

"Oh, you mean it will probably take place underwater! And when it says 'come down and visit us', it means I'll have to dive."

"That seems the most obvious. I suppose with the Ministry you have to be careful and there are probably other, more hidden secrets. If you want, I'll look into it later, when I have all my notes and indexes."

"I don't want to make you..." Harry began before being cut off by his classmate.

"No worries, Harry Potter. I'll gladly help you."

"Thank you very much Luna."

They smiled warmly at each other. She hadn't dried her hair properly when she got out of the bath, and it was starting to grow out of control, which made her look even younger. He sighed, thinking that there was finally only one big problem left to deal with.

"I can't swim or breathe underwater."

"For the first constraint, I suppose you can come and train here, by asking the Hall to conjure up a pool. I learned to swim in the pond between my house and the Weasleys'. I can teach you. Maybe your friends can help you too. I don't know how you'll be able to breathe underwater though. I suppose we could try to graft gills onto you, but you'd have to be under water all the time until they were removed. My father uses a spell called the Bubble-Head Charm, but he told me that you have to have mature magic to do it, as it requires a constant and stable supply of power through the magic channels to be maintained more than a few minutes. It is studied in the seventh year at Hogwarts. Similarly, there is partial transfiguration into an aquatic animal, but again, this requires magical abilities that immature bodies are not usually capable of producing."

"Why am I not even surprised? I'm being forced to take part in a Tournament for which I'm underage, and in events that are beyond my abilities. Welcome to the life of Harry Potter..."

"I'll ask my dad if he has any ideas. Besides, everyone says that your friend Hermione is one of the brightest witches of her generation, so she can help you find a way. Not to mention the others around you, Ginevra, Neville, Fred and George. Or George and Fred, I never know. And even Ronald might have ideas that the others haven't thought of."

He remained silent for a moment, trying to calm his worries by listening to Luna's arguments. He felt a little reassured, despite the fact that a new ordeal awaited him. He told himself that he still had two months before he had to face it, and he thought that by then they would have found a solution. The two new friends talked for a while, but the yawns became more frequent until Harry called it time for bed. It was nearly midnight, and the stress of the day was now weighing on him. Before they parted, Luna surprised him by throwing herself against him for one last hug. She hugged him for a moment and whispered a weak "thank you", then ran off before he had a chance to say anything. He watched the door to her room close, and eventually went to his own. He fell asleep surprisingly quickly, his mind much freer than it had been for a while. And the prospect of a new friendship was pleasing. He thought of Hermione and hoped that everything had gone well. And most importantly, he didn't think for a second about what might await him the next day.

Viktor bowed one last time to Hermione with a hand kiss, before wishing her a good night with one of his rare smiles and striding off to join his Durmstrang comrades who were regrouping. Fleur kissed her on both cheeks and wished her good night as well and left for the Beauxbatons carriage, leaving a stunned Roger Davies without another glance. She said goodbye to Cho and Cedric, and took advantage of Parvati and Lavender's passage to accompany them to Gryffindor Tower. She soon realised that her classmates had actually set a trap for her by walking past her as she finished her goodbyes. As soon as they had calmed down a bit, they started asking her questions about Viktor Krum and the other Champions. Moreover, it seemed that her argument with Ron had not gone completely unnoticed, even if the content was not known. As she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, her head was spinning, both from the questions of her friends and from the fatigue in every part of her body. She offered a compromise to Lavender and Parvati by promising to tell them about her evening the next morning, and went to bed without even paying attention to who was in the Common Room. She undressed and removed her light make-up in a few quick movements, thanking the magic that allowed such efficiency.

She collapsed on the bed in her pyjamas and mentally apologised to her parents for not having the strength to brush her teeth tonight. Everything was spinning in her head, and although she was still angry with Ron, overall she had had a good night. She should thank Harry, who had helped her with his letter to keep up with their friend's accusations. And all those exciting discussions, and dances. She thought of the next day, of Harry who would have to tell her about his own evening. With a smile on her face she fell asleep, dreaming of dances and an emerald gaze that swirled with her.

Albus Dumbledore did not go to bed immediately. The few Elves who had been able to take some time to search for Harry Potter had returned empty-handed. He hoped his student was safe, but Hogwarts security indicated that he had not crossed the school boundary, and that he was still alive. His owl hadn't seemed to panic, and neither had Miss Granger. He sighed for a moment before deciding to get some sleep. No doubt Minerva was going to express some... disappointment with Mr. Potter, and he hoped he would be able to calm things down before these two characters got too hot. He was glad, however, that the evening had gone well. The table of champions and their dates had been an example of cordial understanding and exchange. This damned Tournament had at least succeeded in forging bonds that would perhaps be indispensable in the future.