As the winter weather settled over the castle and its occupants and the date of the Yule Ball drew closer, Harry and Ginny were sitting at one of the smaller tables in the Common Room. In fact, it was only actually a table for one, but if they squeezed closely together…
They were both staring at a slip of parchment, but neither of them had said anything for several minutes.
Ron was frowning as he walked up to them.
"Hey Harry, you got a minute?"
Harry sighed, leaning back, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He took the slip of parchment from the table and held it out to Ron.
"Can you make heads or tails of this?" he asked.
Ron looked at the writing.
"'Come seek us where our voices sound'? It's a riddle."
"Oh, wow!" Harry said in mock surprise. "A riddle? Where were you two hours ago?"
"Oh, sod off," Ron said. "Wait, is this about the second task?"
"Yeah. Finally got a breakthrough with Ginny's help."
"Oh, great," Ron said sincerely. "How did you manage that?"
Harry and Ginny shared a look, a little pink shone through Ginny's cheeks.
"It, err… doesn't matter," Harry said eventually. "Any ideas what it means?"
Ron studied the riddle a little more.
"'Cannot sing above the ground'... Goblins?"
"Do goblins sing underground?"
Ron shrugged.
"I still think…" Ginny started to say.
"We don't need Hermione's help," Harry insisted, interrupting her. "We've still got a couple of months, yet, so there's no need to get too worried so soon." Harry let out a breath. "Sorry, Ron. You wanted to ask me something, didn't you?"
"Oh, right? Do you know how to dance?"
"No," Harry gave him a strange look. "Why do you… oh god, they'll expect us to dance at the ball, won't they?"
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking."
"Maybe Hermione knows how to dance," said Harry.
"Why would Hermione know how to dance?" Ron asked incredulously.
"I dunno, maybe she read a book about it, or something."
"Probably, but she also read a book about flying, before our first flying lesson."
"Hermione knows how to fly," Harry said.
Ron snorted.
"Would you let her fly around the Quidditch pitch?"
"Maybe if I had a very big net at hand."
Both of the boys chuckled.
"But seriously," Ron said. "Who do we know who might be able to dance?"
"Draco Malfoy," Harry said.
"Who also might be willing to teach us," Ron clarified.
"Oh, right… Couldn't you just ask Fleur?"
"No, I can't ask Fleur, I've got this whole 'strong, independent wizard' thing going on."
"Why?"
"I dunno, apparently witches like that kind of thing."
"Weird."
"Tell me about it."
Harry's brow creased in concentration. Just then, Hermione entered through the portrait hole, a few books tucked under her arm.
"Hermione, do you know how to dance?" Harry asked. "And can you teach us?"
Hermione gave him a strange look.
"Why would you need to be able to… Oh, god. They'll expect us to dance, won't they?"
"We were just thinking the same thing," Ron said.
"Ron could ask… no, he couldn't ask Fleur, of course."
"See," Ron told Harry.
"I read a book about traditional wizarding dances, once," Hermione said.
"See," Harry told Ron.
"But when I tried some of the steps, I crashed into a bookshelf," she continued.
"See," Ron told Harry.
"Why don't I just teach you all how to dance?" Ginny spoke up.
"Ginny! It's rude to eavesdrop," Ron scolded his sister.
"I was sitting here first and you came to interrupt us!"
"Wait, Ginny, you know how to dance?" Harry asked.
"Yeah."
"Since when?" demanded Ron.
"Since the last year before I started Hogwarts. Mum and I spent so much time at home, just the two of us. She said that dancing was an important skill for a young lady to have."
"Why?" asked Hermione.
"She told me some stories about how she and dad would…"
"Ah! Say no more," Ron said quickly.
"Yeah, I wish that I hadn't heard it either," Ginny admitted.
"Well, this is great," Harry said. "Ginny can teach us how to dance before the ball. It can't take that long, can it? How long until then, anyway?"
"Uhh," said Hermione, looking at the clock. "About forty… six… hours," she said.
"Oh, that's loads of time," Ron said.
"We will also need to sleep and eat and study during that time," Hermione pointed out.
"Oh, yeah."
"We can start in the morning," Ginny assured them all. "I'll partner with Harry and Ron and Hermione can practise together."
"Hermione is a bit shorter than Fleur," Ron said. "Will that be a problem?"
"And Ron is taller than…" Hermione started, but cut herself off.
"Oh," Ron said. "So the mystery man is shorter than me?"
"Ron," Harry said. "Most of the school is shorter than you."
"Oh, yeah."
"It won't be a problem," Ginny said.
Hermione had put her books down on Harry and Ginny's table during their conversation, and as she went to pick them up again, she spied the parchment with the second task riddle on it. It took her all of ten seconds to say, "mermaids?"
"See!" Ginny said, looking pointedly at Harry.
After a brief, painful, and, at points, literal crash course in dancing from Ginny, the evening of the Yule Ball arrived. Harry, after a total failure at flattening his hair, entered the dorm room to find Ron despairing over a bowtie.
"It looks alright to me," Harry offered.
"Yeah? Well, when Fleur showed me how to do it, it looked different."
"I'm sure if it's totally wrong, she'll fix it."
"Yeah, you're probably right."
Ron looked at his reflection in the mirror critically for a moment longer, then sighed and collapsed onto his bed. Undoubtedly, these dress robes were the nicest, fanciest, most comfortable clothes he had ever worn, and when he thought about it, they may have been the first brand-new clothes he had ever owned, too. If only looking handsome could calm his nerves.
"How do you do it, Harry?" Ron asked.
"What," said Harry, examining his own outfit in the mirror. "Bowties?"
"No, I mean, go in front of loads of people and not be nervous."
Harry paused in front of the mirror, thinking.
"I'm not sure," he said. "I found out that I was famous the same day that I found out I was a wizard, so I was kind of overwhelmed and couldn't really stop and think about it. It probably helped that I was, well…"
"Adored?" Ron supplied.
"Well, yes," Harry admitted. "But it's not as if you haven't had attention on you before. Dumbledore gave you a special award for services to the school in front of everyone, didn't he?"
"Yeah, but only when you were there, too, so the attention was mostly on you.
"So? I'll be up there this evening, too."
"Oh, yeah," Ron said.
"Plus, international Quidditch star Viktor Krum and, in case you forgot, Fleur Delacour… I almost feel sorry for Cedric," admitted Harry.
"Wait, do you think there will be people who are jealous of me?" Ron asked.
Harry gave Ron a strange look.
"Uhh," he said. "Well… I mean…"
"What?" Ron asked.
"Well, of course they'll be jealous, Ron! Have you seen Fleur?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Ron, there won't be a guy in the school who won't want to be in your shoes. Uhh… except for me, of course. I'm very happy with Ginny."
Ron gave Harry a look.
"Not too happy, of course. I mean…"
"Relax Harry," Ron said. "I trust you with Ginny more than I'd trust, I dunno, Seamus."
"Oi!" Seamus said from his bed. "You do know that this is my bedroom too, right?"
"Am I wrong?" Ron challenged him.
"Well, no, but you don't have to say it out loud, like that."
" Anyway, Ron," Harry said, bringing Ron's attention back to him. "I'm just saying you should avoid running into someone like Malfoy."
"That's a good point," Ron nodded. "I'll keep my wand easily accessible, too."
When they descended to the Common Room, they found that it only contained other boys or the younger students who wouldn't be attending.
"Where are all the girls?" Seamus asked the room at large.
"Getting ready," one of Ginny's roommates said.
"Still?" Seamus asked in surprise. The young girl just gave him a withering look in response.
It was still too early to go down, so the boys who were ready just waited around awkwardly, trying not to crease their nice robes.
Shortly before the ball was slated to begin, the girls descended from their dorms. Various couples for the evening met up and began making their way downstairs. Ginny blushed when Harry complimented her dress. Ron just stood to the side, as his date would be waiting downstairs. Lavender Brown, who was going with a sixth-year Ravenclaw boy, came to wait with him.
"That looks really g…" she said, but stopped herself "Ron, what are you wearing around your neck?"
"Oh, my bowtie? Is it that bad?"
Lavender sighed.
"It's not a bowtie, it's a cravat, and yes, yes it is that bad. Come here."
He turned to face her properly, but she had to pull him down to her, so that she could reach his neck properly.
"I was going to say that those robes look really good on you," Lavender said, untying his cravat and starting over. "Where are they from?"
"Some place in Paris," Ron said automatically.
Lavender paused and looked him in the eyes curiously.
"How did you get tailored dress robes from Paris?"
"Uhh," Ron said intelligently. "My date organised it."
"Oh, well, Fleur has a really good eye for measurements," Lavender said.
"Yeah, wait… How did you know that Fleur is my date?"
Lavender snorted, continuing to fiddle with Ron's outfit.
"Ron," she said. "You've been the talk of the whole school for the last six weeks."
Ron blanched.
"That doesn't make me feel any less nervous," he said.
"Oh, you'll do fine," Lavender said nonchalantly. "There you go!" She finished fussing over him.
"Thanks," Ron said. Behind Lavender, Padma was waving at him furiously, mouthing something and giving pointed looks towards Lavender. "Oh, and you look great, too, naturally," he added quickly.
"Thanks!" Lavender said brightly, giving him a wide, genuine smile. She wandered off to chat with Padma. Ron had to consciously stop himself from touching his bowt… his cravat, and instead, checked his wand.
"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, stepping up beside Ron.
"She went down earlier to meet her date," Padma said, overhearing him. "You don't know who it is, do you? She wouldn't tell us."
Harry and Ron both shook their heads.
"Shame," Padma continued. "But I suppose we'll find out soon."
Indeed, it was time for everyone to go, so the crowd of Gryffindors got underway. The Yule Ball was about to start.
Ron was overwhelmed. He was thunderstruck. He was floating on a cloud.
"Pick your jaw up from the floor," Harry furiously whispered in Ron's ear.
Ron shook his head to try and clear it, but Fleur was walking closer and closer. She looked… well, Ron didn't know of a word appropriate to describe her. It seemed as if she was the only person in the Entrance Hall, everywhere she wasn't standing was fading into darkness. All other sounds in the castle had disappeared. Fleur's allure, which she normally tried to keep a tight hold of, was let loose, whether due to the occasion or because Fleur wanted people to look at her, Ron couldn't tell. Ron could normally ignore it, or at least contain his reaction to it, but tonight it was affecting him especially strongly. Ron was forced to do what he normally did when he felt his rational mind start to slip away around her.
Scandinavian Defence: e4, d5, exd5, Qxd5, Nc3, Qa5. His mind began to clear, just as she reached him.
"Bon soir, Ron," she said, a small smile playing at her lips.
Uhh… I mean! d4, c6, Bd2, Nf6.
"Hey," Ron said, faintly. He cleared his throat. "Good evening, Fleur."
Almost automatically, he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. When he straightened up, she was smiling warmly at him.
"You've turned out very nicely," she said, tugging at his cravat lightly and brushing an invisible piece of dust from his shoulder. Ron was suddenly acutely aware that there were a dozen sets of eyes on the both of them.
"Thanks, you look… err… beautiful," he said.
"Merci," she said, just a little bemused. The power of her allure was starting to fade away.
"Good evening, 'Arry" Fleur said, turning to him.
Harry responded in kind and introduced Ginny to her. Fleur greeted her politely, though she already knew of her from Ron.
"Champions over here, please," called the voice of Professor McGonagall. The four of them went over and chatted politely with Cedric and Cho while they waited for Krum and his date. Ron was just concentrating on standing up straight and getting his beating heart under control.
"Hey guys," Hermione said, coming up behind them.
"Hey Hermione."
"Heya."
Harry and Ron both responded straight away and it took Ginny stepping on his foot for Harry to realise what he had seen.
"Hermione!" he exclaimed.
Ron turned around as well and saw Hermione arm in arm with none other than Victor Krum.
Ron's mind, already strained from having to contend with Fleur's allure and being near the centre of attention, was struggling to process what he was seeing.
"Buh…" he said.
"'Ermione, non? Zat is a beautiful colour on you," Fleur said, rescuing Ron from his momentary lapse of conscious thought.
"Yes," he said a little suddenly. "Very pretty."
"Thanks," Hermione said cheerfully, smoothing down her blue dress.
"Hermione," Harry said, again trying to flatten the mess on top of his head. "What did you do to your hair?"
Hermione laughed lightly, twirling a lock of her surprisingly sleek, tamed hair around a finger.
"It took Lavender, Padma and me almost an entire bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, but we eventually managed to get it under control."
"Wait, there are potions for hair?" Harry asked.
Hermione, Ginny, Fleur, Cho, and, surprisingly, Krum all looked at Harry like he was particularly dim.
"Yes," they all said simultaneously.
Harry recoiled slightly from the multi-person response.
"Didn't your grandfather own most of the Sleekeazy company, Potter?" Cedric asked.
"He did?" Harry asked.
Fortunately for Harry, he was saved from his ignorance embarrassing him any further, by Professor McGonagall directing the four champions and their dates into the Great Hall.
Hermione and Krum went in first and Harry and Ron were momentarily standing next to each other. Suddenly, Harry snorted in amusement.
"Hermione was right," he said quietly to Ron. "It is pretty funny."
But Harry entered the Great Hall before Ron could respond.
Ron did notice that the hall had been lavishly decorated, but such things never usually interested him much and he was still recovering from both Fleur's visual, not to mention magical, assault, the hundreds of eyes watching them, and from the revelation of who Hermione's date was.
"Are you okay?"
Ron turned to Fleur. They were both seated at the table at the front of the hall. Ron hadn't even noticed sitting down. The other students were settling down and the hall was quickly filled with a hundred excited voices. Ron nodded dumbly in response to Fleur.
She lowered her voice even lower, bringing her face close to his and letting the joyful voices of nearly-adults and only-just-adults enjoying the splendour of the evening shield them from being overhead.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Normally, I am better at controlling my allure, but after so much anticipation for this evening, it's difficult to keep it from affecting people… especially you." She touched her fingers against the lapel of his dress robes, looking him up and down.
"It's okay," Ron said. "I have a technique for coping with it."
"You do?" Fleur asked in surprise. "I 'ad 'eard that some of those who train in Occlumency claim zat they resist the effect better, but I wasn't sure if I believed it."
But Ron was looking at her blankly.
"I don't even know what Occlumency is."
"Maybe it has a different name in English," Fleur said. "But then, what do you do?"
"I just play chess in my head," Ron said.
Fleur blinked, but a moment later broke into musical laughter. Things got a little fuzzier for Ron while the entrancing sound of her laugh rang in his ears, but it cleared up when she stopped.
"And you are playing right now?" she asked, a happy smile on her face.
Ron nodded.
"I'm trying to decide if white should trade a knight for a bishop in the early mid-game."
"I'd go for it," Fleur said after a moment of consideration. She was still smiling at him, but she had adopted a serious tone of voice. "I know how much you enjoy your bishop pairs."
Ron nodded again. At the centre of the table, Dumbledore demonstrated how to order food. Ron put his chess game to one side, though he knew where all the pieces were, and looked at the menu. It was extensive and filled with numerous dishes from all over the world that weren't usually offered at Hogwarts, feast or not, but in the end Ron made the safe choice and copied the headmaster.
"Pork chops," he said.
Fleur stared at the menu. She scoffed a couple of times, as her eyes scanned the options, but eventually, and seemingly begrudgingly, she made her mind up.
"The steak and frites," she said. "And make the steak rare. But!" then she glared at the menu. "When I say 'rare', remember zat I am French. If you overcook my meat, I will 'unt you down and personally introduce you to a meat thermometer."
She may have attracted a few nervous glances at that pronouncement, but she was busy arranging her napkin in her lap.
Their food arrived and they ate, but Ron couldn't appreciate the special meal for the special occasion. After being assaulted by Fleur's allure and playing chess simultaneously, the little brain power he had left could only mechanically cut and chew the food in front of him.
Other conversations were happening along the champions' table. Hermione and Krum were deeply engrossed in whatever they were discussing. Dumbledore was being his usual enigmatic and amusing self, chatting with the other headteachers. Cedric and Cho were talking quietly together. Harry and Ginny were talking with… Percy? Ron frowned. When and why did he arrive?
But Fleur and Ron were unusually quiet. Ron was concentrating on resisting Fleur's charm, but Fleur seemed distracted, to Ron. She was mainly paying attention to her food, ignoring the conversations and decorations around them. She was even ignoring the glass of wine that she had been sent, along with the other adults.
" Are you alright, really?" Ron asked her quietly.
"It's just…" Fleur said, her expression tight. "Normally, I would avoid events like this. There are so many people here and the room is filled with emotions and 'ormones even those who are not drinking wine are drunk on the magic of the evening, the decorations and the food and the clothes and the glamour. Being surrounded by them and 'aving so much attention on me… later there will be music and dancing, as well." Fleur glanced at him briefly. "And then there is you, too…" she sighed. "My allure is just bursting to come out, to let everyone in this room know that I am the most beautiful person 'ere, that I deserve all of their attention."
"But you are the most beautiful person here," Ron said sincerely.
Fleur let out a choked laugh. She almost placed her hand on Ron's, but she stopped herself at the last moment.
" Merci," she said. "But even now I am acutely aware zat Krum has only eyes for your friend 'Ermione and that 'Arry is holding your sister's hand under the table. Everyone is besotted with each other, when my allure wants them to be besotted with me."
"Fleur…" Ron said, uncertainly.
"But! I am the master of my allure, not the other way around," Fleur declared. "There is only one man whose attention I want tonight."
Ron swallowed, his throat tight and his face burning.
Fleur took a deep breath and let the tension in her body fade away.
"Zat is why I am trying to avoid looking at you. Zat is why I am not touching the wine. Zat is why I refuse to hold your hand, because if I hold your hand, then I won't be able to hold it back, then I'll want to embrace you and then…"
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Ron asked.
"Put a sack over your 'ead and go eat in the corner?" Fleur said with a tight smile. "Thank you, but I'll be fine so long as I… concentrate."
Ron let her return her attention to her meal, where she was cutting her meat into incredibly small pieces. Ron chewed on his pork thoughtfully. Over the last several weeks, he knew that he had become better at rebuffing Fleur's power, but now he wanted to try and focus on it, but without letting it overwhelm him. It was… strange… and difficult, like stretching a muscle that you didn't know that you had, but, in the end, Ron guessed, her allure was magical in nature and Ron had been surrounded by magic his entire life and had been actively studying it for three and a bit years.
Locating the allure was easy, he had been aware of it for the entire evening, but when he tried to examine it, he struggled, it was like he couldn't tell where it began or ended. It was certainly powerful, but because this was the first time he had analysed it, he didn't have a point of comparison for how powerful it was. But even beneath the power of it, Ron thought that it was particularly chaotic and frantic, tonight… probably. Pushing himself to the utmost limits of his ability to examine it, Ron became very vaguely aware of something alien, separate from the allure but inexorably connected to it, Fleur, he presumed. Her presence was surrounding the allure, bottling it all up. She was holding it all together, but the allure, and her control of it, both seemed under incredible pressure.
Ron pulled back from his magical examination, suddenly becoming aware of a piercing headache, which faded away within a few moments. What remained on everyone's plates disappeared and dessert menus took their place. Ron was about to order what he normally had at Hogwarts' feasts, rhubarb crumble with extra, extra custard, but Fleur's hand whipped out and grabbed his wrist with vice-like strength. She then ordered them both a slice of 'tarte au citron'. She stared him down with overwhelming intensity until he took a bite, when she nodded in satisfaction and turned to her own food.
Ron continued to play his game of chess, but it wasn't really necessary. Whatever Fleur was doing was keeping her allure at a steady, soft level. He almost thanked her for protecting him from the worst of it, but he saw the set of her jaw and the focus she had on her dessert and decided it would be better to not distract her.
But time kept moving forward, and very soon afterwards, dessert had ended and Dumbledore had transformed the Great Hall into a ballroom. The Weird Sisters came on stage and the four champions and their dates found themselves in the centre of the dance floor, everyone watching them.
Fleur jumped a little in surprise when the music started and Ron put his hand on her waist. Their first dance was… okay. Fleur went through the motions of the dance very mechanically, which suited Ron's level of skill, but it was clear that she was near her limit.
More couples drifted onto the dance floor, but Ron was thinking desperately of how to help Fleur. An idea came to him, but he wasn't sure if it was a good idea.
"Just let it all out on me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
" What?" Fleur hissed through clenched teeth.
"Your allure. Let go of it. Release you control, but focus on me. I can handle it better than most, plus I can fall back on my chess game."
"Are you sure?" Fleur asked. Her hands were shaking from the pressure of holding her power back.
"Yes, just let me remember what move I was on."
Last move was bishop to f5. Next is white to play and get out of check.
"Quickly," Fleur hissed.
"Okay," Ron whispered. "Wait! You'll have to lead the dancing."
Fleur murmured an affirmative and then, for Ron, everything changed.
The next stretch of time was very unusual for him. His mind was filled with chess moves, dance steps and the overwhelming presence of Fleur. He lost sense of where he was and what he was doing. He was keenly aware of the magic of the allure again, except now, instead of being tightly bound up by Fleur, it was free and wild, washing over him like a raging river following a heavy rainfall.
His mental capacity diminished. He suddenly realised that both black's and white's queens had been hanging for several moves, but he decided that he didn't care. He was vaguely aware that he was saying something to Fleur, but his mind didn't know what his mouth was doing.
An indeterminate amount of time later, his consciousness slowly returned to him. To his surprise, he was sitting at a table at the edge of the hall. The Weird Sisters were playing a loud, fast song, which had most of the audience dancing wildly to it.
"I see zat you are back with us," Fleur's voice said from beside him.
He spun around to face her and saw the happy, relaxed smile on her face.
"When the band increased the tempo, I thought it would be wise to take you to sit down. I think I 'ad pushed you past your limit a while ago and if we had started dancing with the energy zat a song like zat requires," she nodded towards the frantic crowd, "you may 'ave started tearing my dress off!"
Ron choked and spluttered for a moment, but Fleur waved off his apology before he could make it.
"Don't worry," she said, laughing. "You were a perfect gentleman. You may 'ave declared your undying love and devotion to me a dozen times, but your 'ands did not wander."
Ron didn't trust his mouth to speak, but his panic must have shown in his eyes.
" Don't worry!" Fleur insisted. "I have come to expect it from those who lose self-control when under a Veela's power. I much prefer it coming from you than half a dozen other people."
Her eyes looked out into the crowd. Ron didn't know who she was looking at, but Ron's eyes almost naturally found Draco Malfoy. Not someone he would want her to interact with.
" Thank you," she said to him sincerely. "It was probably the nicest thing zat somebody has done for me in a long time. I kind of exhausted my allure on you, so I'll actually be able to enjoy the rest of this evening."
Ron finally got his mouth working.
"You're welcome," he said a little hoarsely. "I wasn't sure if it would work."
"Neither was I," Fleur admitted. She was looking at Ron strangely, but he couldn't place the emotion. "You're probably a little worn out," she said.
"I am a little footsore, actually," Ron said, the stresses on his body finally letting themselves known to him. "How long were we dancing?"
"A couple of 'ours," Fleur said nonchalantly.
"Two hours?!" Ron exclaimed.
"I 'ad a lot of pent up… energy… I needed to let out," Fleur said seriously, her eyes staring into his.
Ron was saved from responding to that, not that he knew what to say anyway, by the arrival of Hermione and Krum.
"Got all the dancing out of your system, hey Ron?" Hermione said, collapsing into a chair across from them. "I'm glad that all the practice we did was worth it. Urgh," she wrestled with her shoes." I just have to get these heels off. How adults do it all the time I have no idea. Ah, Hello, Fleur."
To her credit, Fleur wasn't fazed by this verbal onslaught.
"Good evening, 'Ermione. Krum."
"Delacour," Krum said gruffly.
"Oh, don't be like that, Victor," Hermione said, pulling Krum into the chair next to her. "You're not in competition tonight. Have you met Ron?"
Ron was still feeling fatigued, physically, mentally and even magically, after his lengthy dance with Fleur, so it wasn't exactly how he wanted to meet the most famous Quidditch player in the world. Still, he tried his best.
"Hey," he said. "I, err, saw you fly in the final. It was very… good."
"Thank you."
Hermione had pulled out her wand and had just finished transfiguring her high heels into trainers. Fleur scowled behind her at the sight of the younger witch in a beautiful blue ball gown and Muggle running shoes.
"I saw that they were serving something fizzy to drink in the Entrance Hall," Hermione said. "Does anybody else want some?" she asked, jumping to her feet, but she was stopped by Fleur's hand gripping her wrist.
"'Ermione, we are the witches. We do not go and fetch our own drinks. That's why we brought dates," Fleur looked pointedly at Ron and Krum while she said this.
Hermione looked conflicted for a long moment, perhaps wrestling with the possibility of contributing towards gender stereotypes, but apparently in the end decided that she didn't care.
With a grin, she turned to the two wizards.
"You heard the woman," she said. "Get going."
Fleur was also looking at Ron expectantly, so he forced himself to his feet and, sharing a glance with Krum, went with him to fetch drinks.
"So tell me Fleur," Hermione was saying as they left. "Are there house elves in France?"
Out in the Entrance Hall, the atmosphere was more subdued. Various couples and groups of friends were having quiet conversations away from the music. Moody was watching over everything, his magical eye spinning wildly in order to follow the large number of people throughout the castle.
A table to one side was loaded with drinks. They were all bubbling and were offered in dozens of different colours. With no indication as to what the different colours meant, Ron and Krum just picked whatever was at hand.
"Ron, we need your help with something."
Ron turned in surprise to find Fred and George behind him.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It's Ginny," Fred said.
"Ginny? Is she alright? What about Harry?"
"What? Harry's fine," Fred said. "Look, are you coming or not?"
Ron pushed the drinks he was holding into Krum's hands.
"Tell Fleur I had to go do something, alright?"
Without waiting for a response, Ron walked away with his brothers.
It wasn't until they had entered the dungeons and had turned down two corridors that Ron realised something wasn't right.
"Where is Ginny?" he asked, stopping in the hallway. He let his hand drift close to where he was keeping his wand, but the twins were too fast for him.
The first spell hit his arm, making it feel totally numb from the shoulder down and the second threw him into the wall, knocking the breath out of him.
"Huh, it turns out that we can still get one over on our little brother," George said. "Even if he is hanging out with Quidditch stars and Triwizard champions.".
"At least he still pretends to care about his family," said Fred. "He didn't check if Ginny was doing okay for the entire evening, did he? And at least we said 'hello' to Percy."
"Alright, what is it that you two want?" Ron asked, pushing himself up so that he was leaning against the wall. He tried to wiggle his fingers, but he still had no sensation in his hand.
"Whatever do you mean, Ron? Can't we just be filled with brotherly concern?" George said. "You turn up with these fancy new robes. Who paid for them, by the way?" Ron just glared at him in response. "We thought so. We know that you're dim, but we assumed that even you would realise that she's using you to get to Harry."
"She hasn't asked me anything about him," Ron spat out. "And Harry is fine with me and Fleur."
"Of course he is," said Fred. "Harry is such an innocent kid, so desperate for friendship that he'd forgive anything, even when you betrayed him after Halloween."
Ron flushed in anger and old shame.
"And without even thinking about it, you're telling her all of Harry's secrets while you have your hands under her robes."
"Shut up! Don't talk about her like that!"
"Did you hear him earlier, George? 'I love you, Fleur', 'I'd do anything for you, Fleur'." Fred's face twisted into an expression of disgust and anger. "Pathetic is what it was."
Ron always struggled to keep his temper around his twin brothers.
"You know, when Harry warned me that I should be careful about people reacting angrily out of jealousy, I thought about people like Draco Malfoy, not my own brothers."
Even though he was expecting it, the punch really hurt.
All of the air was knocked out of him by the blow to the stomach and Ron fell back down to the floor. When he brought his face up, he could see the hallway behind Fred and George and to his surprise he saw somebody watching, unbeknownst to his brothers.
It was Professor Snape.
For just a moment, their eyes met. Ron, on the floor, gasping for breath and Snape, his face impassive, watching from a dozen strides away. But the moment passed. Snape sneered at Ron, then walked away silently. Ron said nothing.
"You know, Fred? I think our little brother needs to be taken down a peg or two."
"Or three," Fred agreed.
The twins had been cruel to Ron when they were all younger, but now that they were both almost adults, they really had the capacity to inflict serious pain on their younger brother. They started with kicks, but they decided to follow up with a flourish of magic.
Luckily for Ron, before too long, the sound of footsteps broke them out of cruelty and they left quickly. Ron groaned feebly for a moment, desperately wishing that his saviour wasn't Fleur.
It wasn't Fleur. It wasn't even Snape.
It was Dumbledore.
"Professor!" Ron exclaimed, but it came out weakly.
Dumbledore glanced up and down the hallway.
"Is there an explanation for your current predicament?"
Ron looked down at himself. Aside from the bruises that were sure to form, his new dress robes had been ruined. Torn almost to shreds in places and entirely pink with yellow polka dots. Knowing his brothers, it would not be as simple as a colour changing charm to undo.
Ron sighed. He didn't care about the robes themselves, but they had been a gift from Fleur and what's more, Fleur had liked them.
"No, professor, no particular reason."
Dumbledore fixed Ron with a severe look, then sighed deeply himself.
"Your loyalty to your brothers is admirable, especially considering the circumstances."
He waved his wand and a wave of relief swept through Ron, banishing the pain from his injuries. The tears in his robes spun themselves back together and the colours faded back to what they were. Then, to Ron's surprise, Dumbledore slid down the opposite wall so that he was sitting across from Ron.
"Do you know how long I've been a professor?" he asked.
Momentarily nonplussed, Ron shook his head.
"I suppose I could ask Hermione," he said.
"Hmm, for the sake of my modesty, let's just say that it has been a while. In that time I have seen many hundreds of students grow up in these halls and turn into the adults they became, including, I'm ashamed to say, everyone of Voldemort's followers and even Voldemort himself."
Ron had flinched at hearing Voldemort's name, but his mind sped up, leaping ahead to what Dumbledore was getting towards.
"You think that Fred and George will become Death Eaters?"
"No," Dumbledore said quickly. "I would not impune your brothers' attitude regarding the issue of blood purity, but one does not have to be a dark wizard to be cruel."
The image of a family of Muggles floating upside-down above the tents at the Quidditch World Cup entered Ron's mind. The twins wouldn't attack Muggles, of course, but if there were some particularly annoying Slytherins…
"Indeed," continued Dumbledore, "there were a number of people on the 'good' side of the last war who crossed lines that I think the two of us would both disapprove of." Ron gave him a confused look. "Consider your lessons with Professor Moody," Dumbledore hinted.
Ron frowned in concentration.
"The Killing Curse. The Aurors were authorised to use it against suspected Death Eaters," he said after a moment's thought.
"Yes," Dumbledore said slowly, but from his tone, Ron thought that he hadn't quite found the answer that Dumbledore wanted. "Although, there are many times in war when killing is the only option."
Ron looked at the headmaster in surprise.
"Did you not expect me to say such a thing?" Dumbledore asked with a sad smile. "I have fought wars against both Voldemort and Grindelwald. Yes, I have had to do my share of killing, though not by way of the Killing Curse. No, the issue I had with the actions of certain Aurors in the last war was not their use of that Unforgivable Curse…"
Ron's eyes widened.
"They were permitted to use all of the Unforgivables?"
Dumbledore nodded gravely.
"Aurors tortured people?"
Dumbledore paused, then nodded again.
"But… Fred and George would never do that!" Ron protested, his voice almost catching in his throat.
"Are you sure of that?" Dumbledore asked seriously. "Even if they had the law on their side? They were willing to inflict their own brand of justice on their younger brother who committed the crime of managing to outshine them for one evening. How would they act if confronted with someone truly evil, like say, the man who killed your uncles?"
Ron's voice was stuck in his throat. He wanted to disagree with Dumbledore, but he couldn't quite find the counter-argument inside him.
"I have seen kinder men than your brothers turn to barbaric acts when the war grew desperate. You should know better than most, Mr. Weasley, that the war will begin again, and sooner rather than later."
"But what would you expect me to do about them?" asked Ron.
"Only that you continue to be there for your brothers and be willing to stand up to them when they come close to crossing lines. That may well have a greater impact than any punishment that I can dole out."
Ron let out a half-laugh.
"Stand up to them? Do you have any brothers, professor?"
"Just one."
"And how did he react when you stood up to him and tried to tell him off?"
"To the contrary, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore said sadly. "It was my brother who needed to stand up to me. To this day, I live with the regret that I didn't heed his advice, and lament that he did not confront me sooner and more forcefully. Believe me when I say that you will be doing Fred and George a favour by doing so."
Ron's mind buzzed with all the excitement of the busy evening, but he eventually gave the headmaster a slow nod.
"Good!" said Dumbledore, jumping to his feet. With surprising strength, he pulled Ron to his feet also. "Now we should return to the party. I'm afraid to say that I have little use for clothing charms normally, so my quick repairs to your stylish dress robes may well be noticed by the particularly fashion minded."
"Well… thank you, anyway."
They exited the dungeons together, but the headmaster was immediately pulled away by an irate Professor McGonagall, dragging him to some duty or another. Ron wandered back into the Great Hall, looking for Fleur.
