Chapter 15 – Masquerade

The week passed by so quickly, that before anyone knew it, it was already Halloween. When Harry woke that morning, Ron was in his pajamas, seated on his bed, stretching. He reached for his glasses, and realized, with that dull feeling of lack of anticipation, that it was already Halloween.

"Morning," grunted Ron.

"Morning," Harry grunted back. He could tell that his best friend had the same enthusiasm (or lack of it) for the night's ball.

"Katie told me last night to tell you that there'll be Quidditch tryouts the day after tomorrow. We all have to be there, she said."

"Okay. Wait… I better ask Lupin or someone for my broom. I still remember when that old hag removed me from the team. I can't believe it's practically been a year since I've been on my broom."

"Yeah… I wonder who'll be on the team."

"Your sister should try out. She's great." Harry felt a feeble lurch in his stomach that was awkward, yet pleasant, when he thought of Ginny. He felt his cheeks go red, and prayed that they weren't; he didn't need Ron breathing down his neck the entire ball long.

Ron raised an eyebrow. He stood up and looked at Harry, who tried to busy himself with something else. Unfortunately, the only thing he could busy himself with at the moment was his messed up bed, and he began to fix it.

"You fancy Ginny, don't you?"

"No!" said Harry, trying as hard as he could to sound as indignant as possible. Unfortunately, Ron didn't buy it.

"Look, Harry, if you do, I won't kill you. I've wanted you to fancy her since second year, mate. When I found out she didn't fancy you anymore, I wanted to march right up to her and insist that she fancy you that very moment. I hated Michael Corner with a passion to kill. What happened to her and Dean, anyway?"

Harry made sure that Dean wasn't there. He was gone, and so was Seamus, so Harry decided it was safe to talk. "They broke up last month, I think. I asked her to be my date, but I decided to get your consent first."

"Why'd they break up?"

"I dunno," Harry lied.

"Well, I'm glad she saw the light."

"Yeah…. So… who're you going with?"

"Hermione. I didn't ask her as a last resort this time." Ron's ears didn't go red, but Harry saw a little pink come out.

"What is going on between the two of you."

"Nothing."

"Yeah, right." This time, Ron's ears began to glow.

"Well, I mean, sometimes she gets so annoying that I wanna kill her, but there are times when… I dunno… I kind of… er… I dunno… really, really like her… y'know what I mean, right?" Ron, said, looking helplessly at Harry.

"Yeah, I do, but don't look at me like that, I don't know what to do about girls either. I'm supposed to be thick, remember?"

"Yeah, but at least you don't have – what is it that she said? Oh right. The emotional range of a teaspoon."

They both laughed.

"Anyway, I think we ought to change now, so that we can have some breakfast, and plan the day out," said Harry.

"Okay… hey mate?"

"Yeah?"

"If you tell Ginny that you fancy her tonight at the ball, I'll tell Hermione that I fancy her as well."

Harry looked at him.

"You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Weasley."

They shook on it. Then, they got dressed and made their way to the Great Hall to have some breakfast. When they got there, it was extremely noisy – noisier than usual; there were many conversations heard through the clatter of silverware on plates, most of them regarding the ball tonight. The two boys sat next to Hermione, Ginny and Sophie, who were eating. Hermione and Ginny were talking about something, but stopped the moment the boys were within hearing range, and Sophie looked extremely withdrawn and was very quiet – more quiet than usual. Harry had to suppress a shudder as he sat down; there was that distinct coldness that Sophie bore the past week. Trying to push the thoughts of this coldness into the back of his mind, he turned to Ginny and racked his brains for something nice to say to her.

"Erm, I'm looking forward to the ball tonight," he said; it was the only nice thing he could say, even if it was a lie. Well, it wasn't so much of a lie anymore. Though he wasn't exactly excited a few moments ago, he felt a bit excited when it dawned on him that he was actually going to the ball with a girl he liked.

"I am too. It's going to be so much fun!"

Sophie was heaving food on her plate and continued eating like there was no tomorrow. Harry felt the coldness intensify, and he looked at her. For the first time, she didn't look back; she was concentrating on her food.

"How can you eat so much and remain thin as a paper?" asked Hermione, awed at the amount of food Sophie took. Harry knew that she had a point; the only person who ate more than Sophie did was Ron, yet she was so skinny – too skinny, actually.

"Fast metabolism," she said shortly, and continued eating. Alexander then sat in front of his older sister.

"How are you?" he asked, his dark eyes which resembled Sophie's in so many ways filled with concern.

Sophie grunted a reply, then began to stuff her mouth with the food on her plate.

"It's not so bad, Sophie. At least you talked to Dumbledore about what you can do tonight."

Sophie swallowed the food in her mouth, then replied, "Yes. But I still feel bad because I assumed. You know what it's like to have false hope…"

Her brother sighed. "Well, you know that I'm here, right, Sophia?"

"Don't call me that Alex! And, yes, I do know you're here, though perhaps you should do stuff with kids your age, and stop worrying about me. I'm fine, and I always will be."

Alexander rolled his eyes. "Yes, Sophie. Although you know that I'll not stop worrying about you."

"Ah, you've always been the most stubborn person on earth."

"And you, the most persistent."

As both brother and sister laughed, Harry felt the eerie coldness vanish, though not instantly, but fast enough. It was a good sensation; it was as though he was relieved of a great weight. Speaking of great weights, he wondered what Voldemort was up to; it was a little more than a month since he heard about him….

Just then, his scar hurt and he pressed his hand on it.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Alexander asked the older boy.

"Nothing," mumbled Harry. "Scar… it's nothing really."

Sophie looked at him sharply. "Any visions? Odd sensations?"

"None…" he said, then closed his eyes. "Anger… no… hatred…" He opened his eyes and looked at Sophie. "What could it mean?" he asked.

She closed her eyes. Then they fluttered open. "It's Halloween today. The 31st of October," she said in a soft voice. She looked at Harry, and though the same warmth that radiated from her those times when she wasn't as distant towards Harry was not present, Harry felt very faint compassion coming from her.

"What does Halloween have to do with it?" he asked.

"It's been fifteen years since you defied him for the first time."

Harry felt an odd rush of emotion in him. It was fifteen years since Wormtail sold his parents to Voldemort. Fifteen years since his parents died. Fifteen years since Sirius was sent to Azkaban. Fifteen years since he was sent to the Dursleys. Fifteen years since he got that damned scar on his forehead, shaped like lightning, unknown to everyone that it was going to hurt every time Voldemort felt an intense emotion. Voldemort…. It was fifteen years since his life was turned from completely fine to anything but normal. Just the previous day fifteen years ago, he still had parents, he had a godfather, and he had a normal life, with parents who loved him. He wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived. He was just Harry Potter, son of two well-loved people, a happy, carefree one-year-old boy.

Alexander stared at him. He began to speak in Parseltongue, a language that perhaps only the two of them and Sophie could understand. "What's done is done. Don't look back; you won't be able to find peace that way. Don't dwell on the past or on the future, but dwell on the present. You cannot return to the past, and you are unsure of whether you will live to see the future. You are, however, sure that in the present time and space, you exist, and you can make the most out of what happens to you."

Sophie looked at her younger brother with what looked like a mixture of admiration and pride. Harry, on the other hand, felt a strange feeling of peace that, no matter how hard he tried, wouldn't ebb away.

"Harry, are you alright, mate?" asked Ron, looking scared. It was only then that Harry noticed that everyone was staring at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you guys done? Great, I was thinking we should go for a walk outside to, y'know, enjoy ourselves."

Ron, Hermione and Ginny stood up. Harry then motioned for Sophie and Alexander to come along. Alexander, however, said that he couldn't come.

"I've got to do my Potions essay. Professor Snape gave us a foot on fluxweed, and it's due the day after tomorrow," the first-year told the older students. Sophie sat on her chair, and though she was finished with her breakfast, she did not stand up to join them.

"C'mon Sophie."

She shook her head no, and continued to sit where she was.

"C'mon. I'm not gonna leave 'til you come with us." He was determined to find out what was causing Sophie to be so distant and withdrawn.

"Alright, alright," she said in a very resigned voice.

The five of them walked on the grounds. It was a cold, autumn day, and on the trees were leaves that were as red as Ginny's hair. The autumn was, in Harry's opinion, as beautiful as she was. Ron and Hermione were jumping in a pile of leaves, and Ginny was laughing and joining them. Harry noticed someone who was so melancholy despite the beautiful setting and the happy people all around them.

Sophie sat on the grass, looking at them expressionless. Harry thought that she was as beautiful as the night sky, her pale face like the moon, her dark hair like the sky, her eyes like the stars. He then looked at Ginny again, and saw that she was perhaps quite the opposite. She was as beautiful as the day, as alive, as vibrant. Her hair was as bright as the sun, her voice like the chirping of the birds. Just as Harry was thinking this, Sophie shifted uncomfortably on the grass, and looked at the others coldly. Harry sat next to her and attempted to figure out what was wrong with her.

"Hey… Sickle for your thoughts?" he said, looking at her. Her reply consisted of an incoherent grunt, and Harry, for the life of him, could not fathom why she, someone whose vocabulary was usually so vast, her words so ostentatious, was reduced to incoherent grunts, to meaningless sounds.

"What's wrong?"

"What do you mean what's wrong?"

"I dunno. You seem, I dunno, distant lately."

Sophie sighed. "I'm not distant, Harry."

"Well, you've been brooding lately; I think I might have the right to know what's going on, or if something's wrong!" Harry said hotly; honestly, couldn't the girl see how uncomfortable and unsettled she made him?

"I haven't been brooding," replied Sophie coolly. She also seemed determined not to catch his gaze. Harry sighed.

"I give up."

The rest of the day was pleasant enough. They continued to enjoy the lovely day, they talked about who was going with whom that night (well, Hermione and Ginny were, anyway), and after lunch and a few run-ins with Neville (who was losing his toad and his robes; he was going with Luna Lovegood to the ball), it was the afternoon, and the four decided to go outdoors (Sophie decided to stay in the common room). They enjoyed the last few hours of daylight, and when it was four o'clock – two and a half hours until the ball – Hermione and Ginny insisted on going back to the castle to "get ready" for the ball. Harry, for the life of him, could not see why they needed two hours and a half to prepare themselves for a ball.

Ron and Harry sat in the common room, doing homework. They decided to do work for an hour and a half, then get ready. "If we're really desperate to get work done," Ron had said, "then we'll work for two hours. I think we'll be able to get ready in thirty minutes." So work they did.

Forty-five minutes later, Harry and Ron began to play chess, and, seeing as Hermione was not there to prevent them from procrastinating, they neglected to continue their work. Fifteen minutes, six losses (in Harry's case) and six victory dances (in Ron's case) later, Harry gave up. Ron, desperate for someone to play chess with, looked around the common room. It seemed to them that it was deserted, but Harry saw someone in the corner of the room. A black-haired, black-clothed someone.

Sophie sat on a chair in the farthest corner of the room, unnoticed. She was reading a book, and it seemed that she was there for a longer period of time, but did not acknowledge their presence. Ron, being as daft as ever, decided to call her and ask her to play chess with him.

"Oy, Sophie!" he yelled.

"Yes, Ron?" came the exasperated reply.

"Wanna play chess with me?"

Sophie looked at him from the top of her book and seemed to be thinking about it. "Alright," she finally said, "but only one game; I'm supposed to get ready in a while."

She and Ron played, and after Ron's victory, Sophie went to her dormitory.

"I guess we ought to be getting ready as well, eh?" said Ron.

They went up to their dormitory. Dean was halfway dressed, while Seamus was trying to make his hair look presentable in front of the mirror. Though he already had found his dress robes and worn them, Neville was still searching their dormitory for Trevor the toad, and, mind you, he was making no progress. Ron decided to take a quick shower before getting dressed, so Harry was left talking to no one, taking the dress robes he bought from Madam Malkin's shop. They were bottle green, and looked almost exactly like the dress robes he wore during his fourth year. They were just a bit longer and had an inside pocket, so Harry could put his wand in it (how proud Moody would have been). Just when he finished putting on his robes, Ron came out of the shower and prepared to dress as well. While Harry was flattening his hair in front of the mirror and Ron was putting on his dress robes which were a lovely shade of royal blue, Seamus and Dean's topic was about their dates.

"So, Ron," said Dean quite casually, "who're you taking to the ball tonight?"

Ron's ears turned a nice shade of crimson before he replied, "Hermione. Who're you taking?"

"Er, Parvati." When Dean said this, Ron's ears became even redder; it was obvious that he figured out why Ginny broke up with Dean.

"How about you, Harry?" asked Seamus, looking between Dean and Ron amusedly, looking as though he was wondering if the said two boys would start rowing.

"Erm, I, er," Harry began, then he looked at Ron for help. Ron was of no help at all, seeing as he looked at Dean as though he wanted to do nothing but squash him. Seamus looked at Harry, expecting an answer.

"I'm, er, going with, er, Ginny," he managed to stutter. He then accidentally-on-purpose dropped his wand, so that he would have an excuse to dive for it and avoid any eye contact with Dean. When he stood after retrieving the said wand, he looked at Seamus, Dean and Ron. Seamus looked like he wanted to either laugh or look bewildered, Dean looked like he was amused by the idea of Harry and Ginny going out (which they weren't, mind you, they were only dates for the ball), and Ron still looked as though his lifelong dream was to kill Dean Thomas.

"Okay," said Dean, raising an eyebrow.

"So… let's go then?" Harry asked more than said.

So the four of them went down a little early, carrying their masks (Neville stayed behind; he was still looking for Trevor). There were only a few people; there were two boys from the seventh year. Katie Bell was also there wearing baby blue dress robes, but she was writing a letter, and didn't seem that excited for the ball. He saw a masked girl who was wearing mauve and had wavy shoulder-length raven hair; he thought it was Sophie, but he then realized that the girl was talking to one of the seventh-year boys, so she definitely wasn't Sophie.

Fifteen minutes later, Hermione descended the staircase with Ginny. Harry felt his jaw drop; both girls were really, really pretty. Hermione was dressed in robes that were of the same material as her robes back during the Triwizard, but this time they were a pretty shade of lavender. Ginny donned something simpler; the material wasn't floaty like Hermione's, but it was a deep burgundy color, and it became her. Hermione had her hair in the same elegant bun, while Ginny's hair was a cascade of curls. The two were foils for each other. Harry looked at Ron's reaction, and he looked stunned.

"Hermione, is that you?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe that Hermione could look beautiful.

"No, Ron, it's Eloise Midgen. Of course it's her, you prat!" said Ginny; Hermione just blushed a bit.

"Gee, Gin, you look really great," said Harry; he had wanted to say more, but his brain was temporarily incapable of giving better compliments at the moment, due to the fact that his date was extremely beautiful.

"Thanks," Ginny said in reply, smiling a sweet smile. She took the mask from Harry's hand and put it on him. Hands shivering, he did the same thing. He saw through the eyeholes of the mask that Ron and Hermione also put each others' masks on; perhaps this was some sort of tradition that he didn't know… or perhaps Ginny and Hermione just found it cute.

"Where's Sophie?" asked Ron. Harry saw that indeed, she was missing. It felt quite incomplete without her, but not really that unsettling. Hermione snorted in reply to Ron's question.

"She's probably going to make a grand entrance, seeing as she wouldn't get dressed while any of us were in there. She refuses to show us her robes or her mask, and she won't tell us who she's going with or anything. She seems really nervous about something; I just have no idea what."

"Okay," said Harry, "let's go, then?"

The four left Dean and Seamus to wait for Parvati and Lavender. They made it to the Great Hall, where students started coming from their respective houses. The Great Hall was set up pretty much like the Yule Ball two years ago. On the stage where the Weird Sisters performed before was a girl. Harry presumed that she was going to provide music for the ball just like Dumbledore said. Harry didn't know who she was, or what house she was from; she already had a gold mask on. The girl was dressed in a dark shade of violet. Harry saw that this girl's hair was waist-length and incredibly (almost abnormally) straight, and that she was as skinny as a stick. He thought that perhaps it was Cho, but then he realized that this girl was thinner than Cho.

In a few minutes, the students started coming in. The lights began to change into a kaleidoscope of colors, and the girl began to sing the first song. She had a nice voice, and for some reason, Harry felt drawn to it.

Ryan Rodriguez and Alyssa Clearwater began to dance, and after a while other couples began dancing. Even the teachers were dancing; tiny Professor Flitwick was dancing with Professor McGonagall, while Lupin was dancing with Professor Vector. Firenze was doing some sort of centaur trot while Professor Trelawney was dancing in front of him. Harry then felt Ginny pulling him onto the dance floor.

He was extremely nervous; he wasn't exactly the best of dancers. He also remembered that he and Ron had a deal going on; he looked around for Ron and saw that he was also being dragged onto the dance floor. Harry looked at Ginny; she was smiling, and he smiled back, though he did it rather nervously. He put one hand on her waist and took her hand in the other, she put her free hand on his shoulder. They danced a bit, then sat down when the song was finished. They danced to the song that succeeded the one that came after the first (a/n: in other words, the third), and danced to the second song that came after that. Afterwards, they ate dinner.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny ate at the same table. The food was ordered in the same manner as the Yule Ball; you said the name of the food you wished to eat, and it appeared on your plate. After a few servings of food, Ron danced with Hermione, albeit reluctantly (he still wanted to eat some more).

When the next song was played, Harry and Ginny got up from their seats and danced as well. Ron and Hermione sat down, but Ginny insisted that they stayed. The mood changed. Slowly, couples started to join them on the dance floor. Harry gulped; he knew what this was. It was a slow dance, and it was something that he had preferred to sit out.

"The next song is entitled Same Ground, it's by the Weird Sisters, and it's the night's first slow song," said the longhaired girl onstage.

As the intro was being played, Harry put one of his hands on Ginny's waist. But instead of taking the other in her hand, Ginny put it on the other side of her waist, making Harry shiver slightly. She put both her hands on his shoulders and leaned against him.

My love,

It's been a long time since I cried and left you

Out of the blue.
It's hard leaving you that way

When I never wanted to.

Harry's gaze shifted to the girl singing onstage. There was something quite unsettling about the way she looked at him; it seemed as though she was accusing him of something. Harry tried to look somewhere else, but it was hopeless. He was so entranced by her voice, but her gaze made him feel very uneasy.

Self-denial is a game
It's strange

I never would've wanted it until there was you.

Because I have learned that love is beyond
What humans can imagine,
The more it clears the more I have to let you go.

The way she looked at him became more unsettling by the moment; for some odd reason, he felt this weird feeling of guilt at the pit of his stomach. The girl's voice began to sound quite sorrowful, that he felt a new feeling of pity, and combined with the aforementioned guilt, it really didn't make him feel at ease.

Cause what I don't understand
Is why I'm feeling so bad now
When I know it was my idea.
I could've just denied the truth and lied,
Now why am I the only one standing

Stranded on the same ground.

Harry tried to take his eyes away from the girl; he looked down at Ginny resting on him, but he could only see her red curls. He tried to focus on the floor, but the voice enraptured him so much. He reluctantly looked at the girl again, and her eyes were locked on his. Harry tried to avert his eyes, but it was hopeless. He could not fathom why this girl was looking at him, and why he felt strange sensations as he looked back, but as he felt Ginny's tiny waist in his hands, he decided to ignore it and try to make the moment, if not worthwhile for him, worthwhile for Ginny.

My love,
It's been a long time since I cried
and left you out of the blue.
It's hard leaving you that way when
I never wanted to.

Self-denial is a game
It's strange

I never would've wanted it until there was you

.
Because I have learned that love is a word

Gets thrown a little bit too much,

The best excuse to fill the infinite abyss.

I will never have to if all else fail.

Harry looked at Ginny, and thought if he loved her, or if he just fancied her. He did feel an infinite abyss inside him, and wondered if it would get filled if he decided to love Ginny. But he didn't want to tell her he loved her if he was still so unsure of his feelings. Because of his uncertainty, he stopped looking at Ginny and looked at the girl onstage, and this was a bad idea, because as soon as her gaze caught his, the feelings of guilt and pity returned, and were even intensified for that matter.

Cause what I don't understand
Is why I'm feeling so bad now
When I know it was my idea.
I could've just denied the truth and lied,
Now why am I the only one standing

Stranded on the same ground.

Ginny lifted her head and looked at him. He looked around, searching for Ron's gaze of approval; he made eye contact with Ron, who nodded, obviously meaning, "Tell her now." He then looked at her, not noticing that they were the only ones on the dance floor.

"Er, Gin?"

If all else fail…

"Yes, Harry?"

Would you be there to love me?

"Er, I just wanted to say… I," he swallowed hard, "I really like you, Gin. And I don't mean as a friend, but… as something… something else."

When all else fails…

Ginny smiled. She didn't say anything in reply, but just moved closer…

Would you be brave to see right through me?


Their lips brushed briefly; it was so quick that one wouldn't have seen it if they blinked. Harry then heard cheering, and it was only then that he noticed that they were the only ones left on the dance floor. The cheering came from everyone else who were just watching them, and he felt himself go red.

"Excuse me," said the girl onstage. She left the stage and exited the Great Hall.

Harry and Ginny didn't go back to where the others were, but went out, where Ron and Harry had heard Hagrid talking to Madam Maxime. There were, like the previous ball, giggles coming from behind the rose bushes. They were looking at the stars, and for some odd reason, Harry felt an odd sense of déjà vu.

"The stars are really pretty, aren't they?" said Ginny, sounding a bit breathless.

"Not as pretty as you are tonight," said Harry, and he couldn't believe that those words escaped his mouth. He wasn't exactly the type to say sweet stuff, but he didn't know what came over him that moment. All he knew was Ginny Weasley kissed him, and he liked it.

They talked about the stars for about half an hour or so (but Harry felt that it was only five minutes), and when they returned, everyone was going back to their common rooms. The singer didn't return after her "dramatic" exit, so they all decided to call it a night. After all, what was the point of a ball if there was no music to dance to? So Harry and Ginny returned to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry felt his stomach making little flip-flops when Ginny put her hand in his.

When they got to the common room, Hermione and Ron were seated on the couch in front of the fire, deep in conversation. When Harry saw them, he was pretty sure that there would be no shouting or rowing, unlike the unfortunate scene in the fourth year. He decided to leave them alone, but didn't make it to the boys' dormitory without giving Ginny a peck on the cheek. When he got to the dormitory, he changed and, ignoring Dean and Seamus' attempts to talk to him, went to sleep as soon as his head hit his pillow. For once, he didn't care about anything; Voldemort, Sophie's mood swings and Dean's reaction became trivial matters. All he knew or cared about was that Ginny liked him back. That was all that mattered to him.

Ginny Weasley was all that he cared about.

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A/N: I got a few reviews, so I guess I will post this chapter, no matter how little the reviews are. I am damn proud of this chapter; it's my longest, and I really worked hard for it. I want at least ten reviews before continuing this.

The song is Same Ground and it's REALLY by Kitchie Nadal, a local singer here in the Philippines. Too bad most of you haven't heard it yet; it's one of the best songs ever.

I put a bit of Harry/Ginny action there, but if you check my bio, this will end up as Harry/OC, so I'm dreadfully sorry to all my H/G fans. If you want H/G fluff, check out my other fic, Actions Speak Louder than Words. If you're wondering how this will turn out to be Harry/OC, I'm not telling.

What will happen to Harry and Ginny? What were Hermione and Ron talking about? Why was Sophie acting all weird? Who the heck was the girl onstage? Why on earth am I asking you these questions when I'm supposed to be the author? To find out the answers to SOME of these questions, stay tuned.