Author's Notes: Okay I was going to update this later, but I decided for a New Year's present I would post two chapters, and give you all the Salvation Ball tonight. Enjoy! Plus, a shiny gold star to anyone who can find the reference in here to a current controversy in the music industry…I couldn't resist!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe; JK Rowling does.

Chapter 10

Dance with Danger

At seven-forty five, Honora's burnished auburn hair was set up in elegant waves and her makeup perfected. It was time for the dress. She took it carefully from its place in her trunk and slipped it over her head, dropping her bathrobe as she did so. She felt the satin glide into place over her skin.

The mirror itself sighed when Honora appeared before it. She barely recognised herself. The champagne colour of the gown set off her Egyptian-heritage skin to golden perfection, and matched the tones in her red hair. The satin clung to her curves and the tiny beads on the shoulder glistened under the light. Slowly, Honora put in simple gold drop earrings and gently placed her high-heeled shoes on her feet. Then, she turned around.

Her friends were staring at her.

Then they remembered how good they all looked, and the girls started grinning.

'Well, what are we waiting for?' Honora asked. She put both arms in the air. 'Let's go!'

Honora had asked Jamie to meet her in the entrance hall, by the stairs, so they could go into the Great Hall together. She descended the stone steps slowly to a hall crowded with chattering students. Her eyes scanned the crowd. As if tugged by a string, she met a pair of dark indigo eyes watching her.

Tom Riddle. Honora felt a little flip in her stomach. For some reason, she was glad she looked beautiful. She let her lips curve into a smile. Tom's face did not change. He merely watched her walk down the stairs, until she broke their gaze and found Jamie Whitcomb standing with a group of nervous-looking Ravenclaw boys. Honora grabbed Jamie's arm and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Eyes wide, he looked at her and tried to say something, but stuttered instead.

'Hello, Jamie. It looks like a good turnout, doesn't it?' she smiled, trying to put him at ease. Jamie's friends were all grinning at each other.

'Uh, um, yes, yes, it does,' Jamie managed. 'Er, shall we?' he gestured to the doors.

'Sure,' Honora said. They joined up with Damaris and Lawrence coming into the Great Hall. Even though she had spent all day working on it, Honora still drew a breath when she saw its transformation. It was exactly as she had pictured it: the essence of a snow white field covered in poppies. She grinned and let out a little squeak in excitement as she clasped Damaris's unoccupied hand.

The Floating Strings played an upbeat interlude as the guests filtered into the ballroom. Even the castle ghosts had shown up; Honora could see Ravenclaw's Grey Lady trying unsuccessfully to flirt with Slytherin's Bloody Baron.

Honora's feet were hopping. She longed to dance. Honora was grateful that was one social thing that she had learned back in Polaris. Of course, the 1940s dances were a little different, but she and the other girls had spent some time brushing up their skills before the ball and Honora felt she had the general hang of it.

Grabbing a chocolate peppermint patty from the delectable buffet, Honora, Damaris and their dates procured fluted glasses of red punch and stood to the side, watching their schoolmates come in. Most were resplendent. The boys wore dashing dress robes in swaths of cut black; the girls were in every colour gown imaginable. Honora glowered when she saw Riddle walk in the door with Olive Hornby clutching his arm. Olive had dark hair and red lips. She felt annoyed at Olive's presence, although she was not sure why. It was just typical that an evil, manipulative person like Tom Riddle would go the ball with an evil, manipulative girl (tramp!) like Olive Hornby.

Honora watched as Riddle's clique appeared behind him. Hook-nosed Ian Avery and his other friend, a dark, saturnine boy named Raoul Lestrange, were accompanied by Lynx and Lamb Gilder, the blonde twins of Slytherin house. The girls were famous for being pure-blood snobs. Making a sour face, Honora turned back to her friends.

'I'm ready to dance! How about you, Jamie?'

He turned a little ashen at the thought. 'Ye-yes?' he said. Honora rolled her eyes. It was clear why Jamie Whitcomb was not in Gryffindor. Well, she would have at least one dance with him. She knew Jamie would not mind if she ditched him by the food table afterwards.

Most of the guests were in the Great Hall when Headmaster Dippet stood up at the head table. This reminded Honora that she was supposed to give a speech. 'Damn,' she muttered. She handed her drink to Jamie and squirmed her way to the front of the crowd.

Dippet cleared his throat. 'Ahem. May I have your attention, please?' Gradually the room quieted down. 'Here to introduce Hogwarts' Salvation Ball is the organiser and president of the committee, Miss Honora Crowley.' The crowd applauded as Honora stepped up to the podium.

Honora looked out over a sea of excited, expectant faces. She gulped down a momentary wave of nausea and just started talking.

'Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, fellow classmates,' she began her memorised speech. 'Welcome to the Salvation Ball, a charity event for the members of our wizarding society most in need. I would like to thank you all for your wonderful support in coming tonight. May I direct your attention to the items up for silent auction,' she waved a hand, 'and ask you all to remember that many of us, myself included, would not be here were it not for the continuing generosity of Hogwarts students and staff.' Honora sent a smile over at Albus Dumbledore. 'Now, please, enjoy yourselves! I wish you all a night to remember!' She finished her talk, breathing in a sigh of utmost relief that was lost in the thundering applause.

Honora knew the students were cheering more for the opportunity to dance the night away than anything else. She peeked her head around to the band and gave them a wave to start up.

After that, Jamie Whitcomb swept her into the first dance. Once he got going, Honora decided, Jamie was not too bad a dancer, even if he was a bit tall and gangly. It was all in good fun, and Honora flashed grins at all her friends as they circled the dance floor. She laughed out loud when she saw Headmaster Dippet dancing with a much-taller-than-him Divination Professor Victoria Kaige.

Lawrence graced her with a dance, then Ash, then Frank Finnigan, then several other sixth- and seventh-years she did not know as well. Honora whirled around and around the dance floor, breathless and light-headed with the spirit of the party. After a particularly energetic two-step with Nestor Nicodemus, Honora collapsed into a chair alongside Kay and Damaris. They immediately broke into a detailed analysis of the evening thus far.

'Oh, Lawrence is such a sweetheart!' Damaris gushed. 'He's been holding my hand all night. I'm falling for him, I tell you!'

'You're showing everyone how it's done, Damaris,' Honora winked at her.

'Everyone is talking about your speech, Honora,' Kay said. 'I heard Drakkis say that you would make a good Minister of Magic! Can you imagine!'

They all laughed at this. 'Minister of Magic, indeed!' Honora joked. 'Well, if people are saying that, they must not have seen how terrifically nervous I was.'

'Ugh, look at the Slytherins,' Damaris said contemptuously. The Slytherin cabal stood on the other side of the hall, grouped together in black glamour. The ones who were not on the dance floor were regarding the rest of the room with studied disdain. That prickle of annoyance swept through Honora yet again, as she watched Riddle and Hornby dancing. Riddle moved very gracefully; she could tell he was as skilled at dancing as he was at everything else he did.

'Well. Let's just ignore them,' Honora huffed. 'We are ten times more sparkling in personality, anyway.'

'Yah,' Kay said. 'Although you have to admit, they're scary. Those horrible twins are always hissing nasty words at me in the halls.'

'You mean they call you a—you know, a—'

'A mudblood,' Kay said darkly.

'They have no class,' Honora agreed. 'They're probably just jealous that you're more clever than they are put together.'

'That's not the half of it,' Damaris put her head in conspiratorially. 'One night I was doing prefect duties with one of the Gryffindors, and we ran into two little fourth-year snakes. They were talking about the older boys, you know, Nott and Lestrange and Rosier and all the rest of them that follow Riddle around. Apparently they're all very into the Dark Arts. They call themselves Death Eaters.'

Honora felt ice run down her spine. Death Eaters. So they were already getting organised. Tom Riddle was getting them organised. This was not good news.

'That's sick,' Honora said viciously. 'I hope they all drop dead of an African haemorrhagic curse.'

Damaris and Kay stared at her sudden vitriol. 'Well, maybe it's just a boys' club kind of thing. You know how Slytherins are,' Damaris said.

'I know how they are. Anyway, let's not let them ruin our night. We have some dancing left to do!' Honora sprung up suddenly. She wanted to forget about Death Eaters. Downing her punch with gusto, Honora latched on to her hapless date, Jamie, who happened to be walking past.

'How about another spin?' Honora suggested brightly.

'Sure!' he said.

The band was just starting a hit by Glenn Miller. Jamie had relaxed with the help of the potent punch and he whipped Honora around the floor. As she got into the music, Honora forced her worries out of her mind and resolved to enjoy every remaining minute of the night. After all, it was her party.

Spinning, twirling, dipping around, surrounded by friends, Honora's eyes gleamed up into Jamie's face and at the beauty of the Great Hall. A whirl of peach went by; Damaris and Lawrence were holding fast to each other. Honora laughed gaily. Then, in the middle of dance step, Jamie stopped abruptly, causing Honora's shoes to skid on the wood floor.

Tom Riddle had tapped him on the shoulder.

'May I?' Riddle asked, gesturing toward Honora. Jamie, not knowing any better, nodded amicably.

Tom stepped forward, tall and debonair in his black dress robes. His jet black hair was perfectly placed, his pale face slightly flushed. Honora felt undressed as his eyes flickered up and down her body.

'You don't mind, do you?' he asked her, holding out his hand.

'No, no, not at all,' she stammered. Slowly she stepped into his arms for the next dance. The band ended the Glenn Miller number and went into a slower song; Frank Sinatra's 'Witchcraft', of all things. Not many people knew that Sinatra was really a wizard.

Tom's hand went around her waist and he pulled Honora close to him. The thin material of her dress left little to the imagination. Stay calm, stay calm, Honora vowed to herself, raising her head with an air of confidence. However, her vow was proving difficult; she could already feel her heart pounding against her ribcage. Tom smelled distractingly good, a clean masculine scent that reminded her of the outdoors.

He swung her easily into the dance, leading with precision and skill. Honora followed him wordlessly, but her mind was racing. I am dancing with Tom Riddle. No, I am dancing with Lord Voldemort. The thought made her breath hitch in fear. She was no more than two inches away from the most evil dark wizard in history. It made Honora feel helpless, as though she could do no more with herself than breathe, in and out.

Tom looked down at her, his eyes as dark as the midnight sky above him. They had an almost predatory gleam. His face was unreadable as usual, but Honora knew something was going on inside his head. She waited for him to say something as the leisurely, happy song played on.

'Your idea was a success, Honora, truly,' Tom said in a smooth voice.

Honora met his eyes. A compliment? From him? Well, better than an insult. 'Thank you,' she said. 'I'm very happy with it.'

'All of this should secure your place as Head Girl, shouldn't it?'

Oh. He was onto her again. Honora decided to be up front with him. 'Yes, it should,' she said flatly. Then she let her lips play into a calculating smile. 'And your help was noted as well. Of course, I'm sure there is no one in this school to stand up to your ambitions to be Head Boy.'

'You're right,' he said. 'Although it is not my ambition, but my talent that will get me the Head Boy position.' His calm arrogance was unnerving.

'Full of ourselves tonight, Riddle?' Honora peered up to him.

'You tell me, Crowley.'

'Full of you? Not quite,' she blurted, before she could stop herself. A blush crept up her cheeks. All that dancing had clearly addled her brain. 'Or ever,' she finished, trying to rectify the situation.

Some emotion flashed across Tom's face before he allowed himself a tiny smile. 'Surely you don't believe Slytherins are all bad? In fact, with your heritage and clear ambition, I'm surprised you're not one of us,'

'That's what everyone keeps saying,' Honora muttered. 'However, unlike you, I do not believe the Dark Arts are ever necessary. And I believe in love, and light, and things you will never understand!'

Tom narrowed his eyes at her. 'And you know nothing about the beauty of the Dark Arts,' he said contemptuously, as he twirled her around. 'If you think that the rest of the world will just step out of its way for you because you believe in love,' he said with a sneer, 'then you are more naïve than I thought.'

Honora felt a flush of anger rising out of her belly. 'At least I'm not so twisted as to call myself a Death Eater,' she shot back.

Tom's eyes widened for a split second, then his mask was back in place. Honora felt like a complete idiot. Was she crazy? Provoking him would not get her anywhere…

To Honora's relief, the slow song ended. Then to her dismay, Tom did not release her.

'Let me go,' she hissed.

'Not yet,' he said in a low voice.

The band went into a sultry tango. That was the last straw. The music started, light at first, then growing dark and tense. Tom gripped her tighter.

'I said, let me go!' she protested again.

'NO,' he growled back. He threw her into a spin, then wrapped her back in quickly. Honora found herself pressed hard up against him. His arms kept her securely in place as they danced, taking steps backwards and then forwards together.

'How do you know about Death Eaters?' His voice was soft and dangerous.

'I have ears,' she replied, trying to keep from quivering. His hand was warm and steady against the small of her back.

'Not good enough,' Tom whispered. He was getting angry with her. 'You had better be careful, Honora.' He emphasised her name with dark meaning.

'Careful of what, Tom?' Honora's eyes blazed in icy fury as she looked up at him. She was angry at him, too; angry for what he, as Lord Voldemort, would do to her family and to the world. 'You know,' she measured her words with deliberation, 'If you aren't careful, you might find that you have met your match, Tom Riddle.'

He scoffed out loud. His grip tightened on her hand, her wrist, making her writhe slightly in pain.

'You're hurting me,' she gasped.

Honora could have sworn she saw something pass through his eyes, something red and very dangerous.

Again she tried to twist away from him. 'Do you enjoy causing pain, Riddle?' her voice hoarse with fear. 'I think you're a sadistic bastard.'

He merely looked down at her as if she were an inconsequential insect. 'I'm not a sadist; I just don't care.'

The flame of anger in Honora's breast reached her mouth once more, causing her to say more reckless things. 'Then your complete lack of normal emotion will be your downfall. I'll personally make certain of it.'

'Don't attempt to challenge me. You're sure to regret it,' Tom said. The music trilled intensely, and he threw her into a precipitous dip toward the floor. Honora clung onto him for dear life, certain that he would drop her. Then he yanked her back up. Honora let out a small sigh as she slid back up against him, placing her hand on his chest to steady herself. To her shock, she could feel his heart beating as fast as hers.

With a final minor-key note, the tango ended. Tom and Honora stood there glaring at each other, breathing hard. Honora was afraid to move; her knees felt like jelly. Slowly Tom backed away from her, his face a sinister blank once again. Furious with herself for letting him get to her, Honora turned her head away from him and pushed through the crowd, back to the table where Lawrence, Damaris, and Kay were sitting.

'Honora!' Lawrence said. 'Saw you dancing pretty close with a Slytherin…' he teased.

Honora did not laugh. Damaris and Kay glanced at each other.

'Did I say something?' Lawrence said.

Kay spoke up. 'Honora, that was—I mean, wow.'

'It looked awfully intense,' Damaris added.

'You could say that,' Honora slipped into a chair and grabbed a large glass of wine from a house-elf laden with a drinks tray. 'Riddle is intolerable.'

'That's not really what I meant,' said Damaris. 'I mean, you two looked like you were about to…I don't know, kiss or something.'

'What?' Honora sputtered. 'How dare you suggest that! I would never, not in a hundred million years! I hate Tom Riddle!'

'Whoa,' Lawrence said, looking at her with a slightly scared look on his face. 'I hope I never get on your bad side.'

'If you say so, Honora, she didn't mean anything by it,' Kay broke in.

'I know. Sorry, Damaris, I guess I'm just tired.' Honora set down her wine. There were several songs left in the evening but Honora no longer felt like dancing. She could not help but notice that Tom did not dance any more, either.

For everyone else, the Salvation Ball was a huge success. A great cheer issued up at the end of the last song, and Hogwarts was in high spirits at the end of the evening. Back in Ravenclaw's dormitories, Honora slipped out of her dress and into bed, glad that it was all over. The next day she would settle the accounts for the silent auction and finish the budget. The house elves would clean the Great Hall overnight, and soon things would be back to normal.

With a sigh of relief, Honora sank into her pillows and fell asleep.

She slept through breakfast the next day, and after a lunch of sandwiches and pumpkin juice, Honora felt energised enough to go through the budget. Portia helped her count the Galleons from the tickets and with a mounting sense of excitement they went through the auction slips.

Each of the items for auction had slips of parchment with a name and bid on them, creating a magical contract to purchase the item if it were the highest bid. The custom-made perfume got 100 Galleons; the tarot cards got 75. With increasing joy, the high bids for the Comet 101 broom kept going up; Honora let out a squeal when she saw the highest bid for 535 Galleons.

'Look at this, Portia!' she said, 'we are making a fortune!'

'The ticket sales alone have given us 1200 Galleons,' Portia grinned back.

'Now, the big fish…' Honora poured over the pile of slips for the Egyptian solar system artwork. She knew there were students from wealthy families at Hogwarts, so she was hoping they had tried to out-do each other. She was not disappointed when she found the highest bid.

Honora gazed at it in wonder. 'Oh my… 6,000 GALLEONS!' Honora shouted and started dancing. Portia leaped up in shock.

'Are you serious! Who on earth bid that much money?'

'Marwan Patil, you know, the Gryffindor from India? I think his family owns, well, India!' Honora could not stop smiling. 'Oh, I have Nestor Nicodemus and his father to thank today…I can't believe it!'

She sought out Nestor, who in his typical Hufflepuff way shuffled his feet and grinned sheepishly, saying it was nothing and that he was just glad to help out. Honora gave him a spontaneous hug in return.

That night, she had to get up in front of the student body at dinner again to announce the results of the auction. She had already notified the auction winners, and there was yet another roar of applause from the student body when Honora announced that the 'Felix and Adaire Crowley Memorial Fund' now had approximately 8,000 Galleons in its new account at Gringotts Bank. Honora thanked everyone for their support and sat down amid more congratulations from her fellow Ravenclaws.

She could not help but notice that Olive Hornby was glaring at her from the Slytherin table.

After the excitement of the Salvation Ball, winter turned into spring in a dull blur. Honora noted her 'old' birthday on February 17, but did not tell anyone. The world of Polaris and Shadow Kingdoms and her grandmother was gone. In fact, Honora had been so busy since the New Year that she had not even thought about her old life very much. Only seeing Tom Riddle reminded her of her mission.

With that, Honora felt an overwhelming sense of defeat and anger at herself. She had blown it at the ball, said too much, let her temper run away with her. Now, Tom Riddle was wary of her, if not considering her an outright enemy. She and Riddle had been literally dancing around each other since the ball; they never spoke, never made eye contact. It was not a situation that would help Honora find out anything else about him.

Now is the time for strategic retreat, she thought to herself one night in early March, unable to sleep. Honora stretched herself out on the blue velvet sofa in the Ravenclaw common room. The dying firelight barely illuminated the gold seashell locket clutched in her hands. She clicked it open, gazing at the detailed filigree. Tiny faces smiled and waved at her. The names were too small to read in the dim light, but it made Honora feel nice to see them; she felt like they were all rooting for her.

She brushed her fingers over the picture of her great-great-grandmother, Fleur Delacour. Her name and face zoomed up larger; the locket's unique qualities were always fun to play with. With interest, Honora watched as Fleur preened and tossed her golden hair, her delicate features sculpted to perfection, white teeth smiling.

Honora felt briefly annoyed that she even had to worry about preventing the rise of Lord Voldemort. It seemed unfair that this was all up to her. The rest of her friends were completely oblivious; Honora found it all too easy to swing into a normal way of life without agonising over future Dark Lords. She had been in this world for over seven months, and she still did not have a clue what to do about Lord Voldemort.

She sat upright, thinking. What happened in 1944? She tried to remember the book by Minerva McGonagall. He had presumably only started making Horcruxes after the murders of his relatives; but that could be right now. He had stolen the black-and-gold ring; the question was, had he made a Horcrux out of it yet? And if not, how would Honora stop him from doing so? It all led her back to the same conclusion: she would have to murder him.

After how frightening he had been at the Salvation Ball, Honora did not feel too bad about it. But she was not a murdering type by nature; she could not think of a way to kill Tom Riddle without implicating herself.

'Oh, I'll think about it tomorrow,' she huffed to herself. With a sigh of frustration, she got up from the common room sofa and went back to bed.

A/N: I know, JKR has said the Death Eaters were originally called the 'Knights of Walpurgis'…but it's not technically in canon so I haven't included it here. It's a bit of creative liberty, since someone from the 22nd century would recognise them so much more, and besides 'Death Eaters' sound cooler.