Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

WARNING: Male/male relationship that includes incest. Harry and Draco are angsty and sentimental in this story so that means they're OOC. Ron and Hermione are nearly nonexistent in this story. A

/N: I'm not making any money out of this. Let the Masquerade begin! And no, I did not copy the idea from watching the Phantom of the Opera. I wrote the original Chapter 4 waaaaay before POTO came out in cinemas. But this is the revised version, though.

The Hardship That Brothers Face

Chapter 4

(The Night of the Masquerade)

Masquerade!

Hide your face so the world can't find you…

-The Phantom of the Opera (2004) / movie version

Classes had finished early that Tuesday to allow everybody to prepare for the Masquerade. The teachers had some finishing touches to do and some final arrangements to be made. Nobody was allowed into the Great Hall after half past five. The Masquerade would begin at seven.

It was nearing six and Harry was still lazing on a sofa by the fireplace in the common room. There seemed to be activity going on all around him. Girls were screeching about make-up mistakes and boys were accusing one another of stealing corsages. Harry yawned as the world seemed to move extra fast around him.

"Yo, Har, aren't you going to wear your costume?" asked Ron who had come down to the common room in search of a missing bowtie.

Harry looked at the clock above the fireplace. "It's not even six yet. It's too early to get into my costume."

"But don't you have to, you know, fix your hair and everything? The other guys in the dorm are doing just that."

"I couldn't care less about what they're doing for the Masquerade. Thing is, I'm too lazy to fix myself up like that. My hair's never becoming neat and I don't see the point of cologne. Don't worry, I just need to put on my costume and pick up Rhianna. Meantime," Harry yawned widely and shifted himself on the sofa to get comfortable. He closed his eyes. "I'm going to get some shut eye." The sentence was soon followed by soft snores.

Ron shook his head. It was obvious that Harry didn't care much about Rhianna. He wasn't nervous at all about his date and he wasn't even caring to fix his appearance, not that there was anything wrong with it. It's just that people tend to look better in parties. Ron went up to his dorm again, wondering if Hermione would appreciate gel in his hair.

Harry slowly opened one eye. Good, Ron was gone. Harry stretched and stared at the ceiling. He felt surprisingly morose that day. Everybody was so damn excited about the Masquerade, even Ron and Hermione didn't notice his down mood that day. Harry felt that there wasn't anything exciting to expect from the Masquerade. It was just going to be a normal party with masked guests. And Harry was going to attend it with a pretty girl who would have a mask over her pretty face so it didn't really matter that she was pretty anyway.

"I don't believe it,' muttered Harry. 'On the one day that something exciting was supposed to happen, I'm feeling more bored than ever." Harry sighed and laid his arm over his eyes.

"What are you trying to pull?" demanded an irked Draco, looking at Remus in ridicule.

"What?" asked Remus innocently. "I think it's a perfectly good outfit." He held out the costume to Draco, who swatted it away like it was an annoying insect he wished death upon quickly.

"Remus, that's a showgirl suit," said Draco through gritted teeth. "If you don't have anything for me, then I might as well not go."

"Come on, don't be a sourpuss," teased Sirius, placing a coaxing arm around the youth's shoulders. "Remus, was just having a little bit of fun, weren't you?"

"Alright, alright," sighed Remus. "Looks like you're not in the mood for jokes." He reached into his wardrobe and pulled out an outfit that seemed entirely remarkable hanging of the hanger. "How about this?"

Draco hesitated. He was impressed but he had the feeling that he wasn't supposed to have it. "It's yours, isn't it? Why lend me something so…precious?"

"Nah, it isn't much," said Remus modestly. "Besides, I can't fit in it anymore. But it should fit you quite nicely, I think. Come on, just take it. No harm done. I daresay someone will be impressed with how you will look in this." Draco took the garment hesitantly from Remus and folded it delicately over his arm.

"And to complete the ensemble." Remus pulled out something from the drawer of his dresser. "You can't attend a Masquerade without a mask now, can you?"

Draco smiled a sincere smile for the first time that day. "No, I suppose not."

"You're not making any effort at all, are you?" huffed Hermione, giving Harry the once-over. "Your bowtie's crooked, your vest is creased and your hair is messy."

"My hair is always messy!" protested Harry, irritated by his friend's lack of approval. This had been going on for the past 20 minutes. Hermione kept criticising his appearance and telling him to return to his dorm to try again. Hermione reached over and straightened his bowtie.

"There. That looks a bit better. I don't understand you. Aren't you enthusiastic at all about the party?"

"Nope," replied Harry nonchalantly. Hermione raised both eyebrows but whatever she had intended to say was cut off by the arrival of Ron Weasley in his black getup.

"What do you think?" he asked. Unlike Harry, Ron had made effort to look more presentable. He even gelled back his hair. "Wow, Hermione," he said in awe. "You look awesome."

Hermione was garbed in a gown of deep red that accentuated the brown of her eyes. She had a light, translucent shawl that went behind her back with both ends settled on her arms. Hermione had said to Harry that she picked this gown because of the flattering colour. Harry's first thought when he saw the gown was blood. Blood in the colour of deep red. He had chided himself for acting so solemn and melancholic.

"Hey Harry. Looking good," praised Ron.

"You too. Come on, let's go. I bet there's loads of food already set."

"What about Rhianna?" asked Hermione.

Harry almost replied, "who?" He caught himself just in time. "Right. Rhianna. We'll pick her up on the way."

"What do you mean "we"?" Hermione crossed her bare arms over her chest. "You pick her up. Ron and I are heading for the Great Hall."

"Oh, right!" Ron exclaimed, taking out a small envelope from his pocket. "Hedwig came while you were in the common room. Left the letter. Here."

Harry took the envelope and tore the seal. The letter was from Rhianna. She requested for Harry to just go to the Great Hall without her, seeing as she was going there earlier with her friends. Also, she asked Harry if he could keep the fact that he was her date in low profile. She didn't want her friends to get jealous.

"Jealous?" said Harry. He threw the letter indifferently into the flames of the fire. "I think she's trying to cover up the fact that she's a bit full of herself. Rather hard to believe that she's from Hufflepuff."

"You're regretting," stated Hermione. "This is the worst time to regret your choice of date, Harry."

"I don't need you to tell me that," said Harry wearily. "Don't worry. I'll just dance with her once or twice. I'm sure she'll have others to entertain her." Harry saw Hermione flash him a disapproving look but waved it off. He was too put down to care. And he really didn't know why he was so put off his mood.

The trio snapped on their respective decorated masks. All of them had chosen masks that only covered the upper half of their face. The full-face masks looked too suffocating. The three went to the Great Hall together but only Ron and Hermione were talking. Harry remained silent and wallowed in his gloomy state, hoping that maybe a few cups of spiked punch will make him forget to be moody.

The Great Hall looked like something you would put in a puzzle. The lights came from floating dots hovering above the hall, giving the great Hall an impressive golden glow. White clay statues and statuettes were put at the four corners of the hall. Those who were learned in Greek mythology would recognise the mobilized beings of Aphrodite, Hercules, Mars and Athena. All of them stood in their solitary quiet with a mighty air about them.

There were curved tables in the shape of a quadrant of a donut surrounding the statues. On them, food was laid out spaciously. Each statue had three tables near them, all clad in tablecloths of deep blue. One tables held refreshment, one held the platters of food while the last table held finger foods for those who were not so very hungry. There were also long tables that faced the wall. Chairs were placed along it for those who wanted to sit down and eat instead of dance. The hall seemed so much like a place of a normal Masquerade that one would almost expect waiters to be walking around in suits with trays of delicacies on toothpicks and small delicate glasses of cocktail and martini.

But instead of waiters, there were tiny flying sprites that could hold up trays of ten times their size. They were only about the size of a human palm, after all. The sprites glowed in different colours to show their individuality.

When the trio arrived at the Great Hall, the party had already begun. Music floated in the air. The sweet type of music that made it pleasant to dance. Those tunes which had no words, only the sweet sounds of the violin, flute and so on.

"This is my cue,: said Ron, in an unusually jolly mood as he swept Hermione off her feet and danced her to the centre of the hall where everyone else was dancing. Harry heard Hermione's laugh all the way from where he stood.

"Glad to see that someone's having a good time," muttered Harry.

"Harry! Over here!" yelled a familiar voice. Harry plastered a fake smile on his face and turned around to face his date. "Hello, Rhianna."

Rhianna came rushing towards him and seized his right arm. "I told them that you were my date but they wouldn't believe me," she said. 'What happened to low profile?' thought Harry. Rhianna's three friends who stood before Harry were gaping at the couple. Harry wondered if his mask was helping any since the girls were able to recognize him, mask or not.

"Oh man, you are so lucky, Rhianna," said one out of the three. "He is so gorgeous." Harry knew he should feel flattered but they were in awe because of his popularity, weren't they? It had nothing to do with his personality or his accomplishments.

"Let's dance," suggested Rhianna. Before Harry could object, he was pulled to the dance floor by the insistent girl and spent the next few minutes stifling winces whenever his foot was stepped upon by Rhianna's high-heeled footwear.

'Why does she even wear that?' wondered Harry. 'And isn't the boy supposed to be the clumsy one in a date?'

"I'm tired," declared Harry. "I'm going to get a drink. Don't bother saving me the dance." With that, Harry made great haste and escaped the dance floor and Rhianna's feet. Harry rubbed at his aching toes and shin where Rhianna had conveniently hit with the narrow tip of her sandals. "Damn," Harry cursed. "Could this get any worse?" He crossed over to the nearest tables and poured himself a drink. He looked up at the solemn looking statue of Mars. "If I were made into a statue right now, I'd probably have the same expression."

Then, Harry felt someone tap his shoulder. "Would you care for a dance?"

Harry turned around.

The person in front of Harry was dressed completely in black velvet and had a black satin mask covering the upper part of his angular face. Gold thread was lined into the mask. Blue eyes stared out of the eyeholes of the mask and blonde hair tickled the nape of his neck. The lips curved into a smile but their moment was spoiled by the uproar of clapping hands as the stage curtains opened and the act began.

"I didn't know there was a play," said Harry, mostly to himself. The stage was at the very front of the hall. The staff table had been removed to make way for the stage.

Almost everyone had stopped in their dancing to watch the scene.

"Good evening, everyone!" boomed a voice. The speaker had obviously used the Sonorus charm. "And welcome to Hogwarts' first ever Masquerade. Now, the students are going to present a little thing that they had prepared just for the occasion. We hope you'll enjoy."

There were three people onstage. All three were dressed extravagantly and all three had masks on so there was no telling of who was acting. But it was obvious from the state of attire that two of the people onstage were male. The female was wearing a long flowing gown of green. The music started to play according to the act onstage. The play, it appeared, was meant to be a silent one.

The lady in performance started moving languidly across the stage. She made for the edge of the stage, facing the audience, raising her hands then letting them fall, then lifting them again to wrap them around her body. It looked like she was beckoning for the audience to come onstage. One of the two males behind her embraced her from behind and started to slow dance with her. The music was slow and sweet as well.

The other male seemed infuriated as he stormed up to the couple and pulled the other man away from the lady. It was clear where this was going. The two males were rivalling for the woman's affection. The males started arguing, throwing insults in the form of gestures. Their bodies were still moving according to the music. One male pushed the other and suddenly, both of them drew rapiers. The duo battled gallantly on stage.

From behind the stage came a colourful jester wearing blue full-faced mask with a golden ace on each cheek. He came and cart wheeled in front of the duelling partners and started doing funny gestures that made the lady laugh. The jester kneeled in front of the lady and took her hand, lifting it to his mouth.

The two males dropped their rapiers and grabbed the jester at both arms, hauling him up to his feet. Suddenly, the jester began crying, covering his face with his hands. The music became high-pitched and sad. The first male hesitated and patted the jester's back awkwardly. The other made apologetic gestures.

The music became wild and lively again as the jester jumped up, his body shaking with exaggerated laughter. He had only pretended to cry. He laughed mockingly at the two males who took up their rapiers again in rage. The jester was still laughing, unaware of the danger he faced. The lady was trying to warn him but dared not get into close vicinity of the rapiers. The music had turned anxious, as though anticipating something terrible.

The two men brought down their rapiers on the jester but the jester dodged both strikes in time and ran away from the rapiers, which came chasing for him nonetheless. The jester picked up a piece of wood to defend himself with. The lady was desperately trying to stop the fighting. The two men lunged and parried with the jester, more experienced in battling than the clowning fool.

One of the men lunged and missed. The jester laughed mockingly. The other man tried to run the blade through the jester from behind but the jester was too quick for both of them. The jester ran up to the front of the stage, doing a merry jig to entertain the crowd. Suddenly, he paused in mid-jig. It was as though something had seized him.

The music stopped. A loud scream tore from the lady's throat. The tip of a rapier protruded from his chest. The first male appeared from behind the jester. His hand left the pommel of the rapier and both hands went to the sides of his head, as though not believing that he had killed the jester. He had not meant for it to happen. He had been too angry.

The music started again, slowly this time. A very sad heart-wrenching tune. The jester fell forward onto his knees. His blue mask fell off and under it was a solid white mask with delicately painted eyebrows and a black teardrop underneath the right eyehole. The mask covered all of the jester's face save for his mouth and chin. Everybody gasped. Underneath the horribly mocking mask was a serene handsome one. The jester's headdress fell off to reveal shoulder-length brown locks. The jester finally fell backwards, falling towards death. The music ended with a long low blow from the trombone and the curtains closed.

There was applause from all sides of the hall. Even Harry felt like clapping. He released a breath he didn't even know he held during the play. He felt someone near him. It was the black stranger.

"A very entertaining play, wouldn't you say?"

Harry gave no reply.

The stranger laughed amiably. "You have not answered my question from before. Would you care for a dance?" asked the stranger. Harry nodded after some time and let himself get led to the dance floor once again. The black stranger was a very good dancer. Although Harry felt that it was weird to be the lady of the dance this time, his feet were safe from prodding foot. This was Harry's first time dancing with a man. And it didn't feel as weird as Harry thought it would be.

When Harry felt that he got the hang of dancing with the stranger, everybody stopped dancing again. 'What is it now?' Harry thought exasperatedly.

There was no laughter or chatter because the jester was making his way to the dance floor. It was true. The person who wore the jester's mask was walking towards the dance floor. All who had been in awe of the play paused to look at him. True, the mask was on but the attire was different.

Instead of the slim colourful outfit, the jester now wore an ensemble of deep majestic green. His dress shirt was white and his vest was silvery green. The cloak was black on the outside and had a dark green satin interior. The brown locks had been tied back into a neat ponytail with an elegant black ribbon to keep it in place. His hair was slightly curly and the strands that felt out of the ponytail curled delicately around his face. The blue mask with golden aces covered the whole of the jester's face.

The dancers made way for him, giving him a clear path of wherever he wanted to go. He nodded at one or two of the dancers, who suddenly felt flattered. Then, he stopped. The jester stopped walking and he extended his hand to Harry. Harry looked at the white-gloved hand, and then at the jester.

The jester grabbed the sides of his mask firmly with his other hand and pulled it from his face. Under the jester mask was the white mask with the black teardrop. Now that the jester was closer to him, Harry could see that the teardrop was surrounded in miniature diamonds. The jester bowed his head towards Harry. The blue mask dropped from his hand to the ground, forgotten,

"Dance with me, Harry," said the jester. His voice was muffled by the mask, which had no holes for the mouth, only the eyes and nostrils. Harry noticed that the eyes were blue, but not as blue as the black stranger who still held his hand. The jester's eyes were in a different blue. A blue Harry couldn't quite describe. Silvery, perhaps?

When Harry gave no reply, the jester straightened himself and then sank onto one knee. He took Harry's free hand, which was closer to him. "Dance with me, Harry," the jester repeated and lifted Harry's hand to his lips.