Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Thanks for all your feedback on the last chapter
Christmas Day had finally arrived, and for the first time since Luke had adopted him, Harry had spent it away from home and at Hogwarts. add = Draco got him omnioculars to make up for the ones that got lost at the QWC
Today had been the first day in over a week that Harry had successfully managed to push all thoughts and anxieties about telling Michael and Anthony about his identity - even though the countdown loomed dangerously close. It was the normal chaos of Christmas even though Harry wasn't at home. The boys had all opened their presents together provoking a hurricane of wrapping paper within their dormitory, and despite now having to do the normal activity of making Christmas dinner, there was still plenty to get done in preparation for the Yule Ball.
Plus, the Ravenclaw fourth years had all got distracted playing with a shiny new set of Gobstones Terry had been given for his birthday, whilst Anthony supplied them with sweets sent over from his relatives in America. An interesting mixture of Hershey's Chocolate (which Harry didn't enjoy half as much as he was expecting, despite his love of chocolate) and Jelly Slugs, which, yes, did wiggle all the down Harry's throat - honestly, three hours later and he swore he could still feel it wiggling in his stomach... though admittedly that might have been his nerves about the Yule Ball.
Nerves which were only increasing now he stood in the foyer outside the Great Hall.
Michael and Anthony had already made their way into the hall promising to go ahead and get a table with both Hannah and Lisa already turning up. Terry and Harry were left waiting for the Slytherins, who as usual were being fashionably late - well, it was only a minute past their agreed upon meet-up time, but Harry's nerves made it seem like an hour. He was terrified of dancing poorly and stepping all over Daphne's feet.
"Merlin's beard." Terry exclaimed softly, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. "How did Roger snag Fleur Delacour?" Terry pointed to the two. Roger, even from a distance seemed to be hanging off Fleur's every word, practically drawling.
"Look at Krum's date," Harry replied.
"Is that...?"
Harry nodded. "Hermione Granger."
"I never realised she was so..." he trailed off, wordless as he examined her with his eyes.
Harry turned to Terry, lightly nudging him with his shoulder. "Granger?" He wiggled his eyebrows and Terry blushed slightly.
"No." He replied firmly, though his voice cracked a little causing Harry to burst into laughter - then he saw the Slytherins enter.
"Woah." Harry tried to remind himself to breath as Daphne made her way over to him. She was wearing an icy blue dress - firmly solidifying her reputation as the Slytherin Ice Queen - with a necklace on her neck which probably cost more than Harry's right arm. Her hair cascaded down her back, curling slightly in places as an effortless grin adorned her face.
"Harry." She greeted.
"M'lady." Harry mock-bowed and Daphne laughed, the sound reverberating throughout the alcove. "Are you ready?" Harry asked, barely registering the other Slytherins who had come down with her. He knew in theory Tracey would be talking to Terry right now, and Blaise would be off looking for his date - Ginny.
Daphne glanced over her shoulder towards Tracey, before nodding, a radiant smile still plastered on her face, her eyes twinkling in amusement as Harry offered her his arm. "Quite the gentleman tonight," she noted, "though don't think I've forgotten about yesterday." Harry laughed as she referenced their study session in the library.
Their group had agreed to meet up in the library on Christmas Eve to study - though, as expected, very little studying went ahead, with everyone too busy musing about the Yule Ball, and excitedly talking about the Weird Sisters, which had then led to Harry being forced to run up and get his radio so they could introduce him to a few of their songs. He had the fortune of returning as Daphne went up to the bathroom, which had resulted in Harry stealing Daphne's seat.
"Yes well..." Harry trailed off, unable to come up with a good answer.
"C'est ce qu'il est." Daphne finished. Harry's confusion must have been too obvious in his expression as Daphne laughed. "It means simply, it is what it is."
"Over there," Terry lightly tapped Harry's arm, pointing to the table Mike and Anthony had saved. Harry finally looked up from his date, and took in the hall in all its glory.
He hadn't even noticed that the four tables had been put aside, replaced with almost a hundred small tables lit by little lanterns. It had a rustic feel to it, with mistletoe and ivy adorning the ceiling and the walls, the ceiling set to a starry black night - Harry absent-mindedly wondered whether it fit the carol on purpose or as a coincidence. In the middle of a hall was a large round table, where all the Headteachers and Ministry personnel - which oddly included both Percy Weasley, and the Minister himself - sat, along with eight empty seats, presumably for the four champions and their dates.
Harry scoffed under his breath, the naivety for them to think he would show up and sit with them. As if.
They made their way to their own table, nicely placed in a corner, separated from the rest of the school, and sat on their seats, greeting Mike and Anthony - and their dates.
"Draco and Pansy should be here in a minute - she just had a slight hair problem." Daphne explained, exchanging an amused look with Tracey, both clearly aware of the situation in full.
True to her words Draco and Pansy squeezed into the halls only a minute before the champions made their way in. The two calmly made their way over to the table. Draco was wearing a black velvet suit jacket which billowed down to just above his knees, the sleek black trousers looked to be made of the same material, whilst his white shirt looked silk. Pansy Parkinson looked a lot less distinguished, wearing frilly pink robes which, to be honest, Harry found disgustingly ugly. The two took the empty seats next to Harry.
"Sorry, sorry, I just had a few problems up top." Pansy nervously patted at her hair. Draco raised his eyebrow at Harry as if to say 'Women, right'. Harry stifled a laugh. Any further conversation was halted as the champions made their way through the door. Viktor Krum led the way, with Hermione on his arm much to the disbelief of many of the hall - out of the corner of his eye Harry could see Ron giving her a death stare. Ginny, on the other hand, looked surprisingly smug as Hermione entered.
Fleur followed with Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, before Cassius Warrington made his entrance, a Slytherin sixth year on his arm.
"No Potter." Blaise noted, and Harry stiffened, exchanging a subtle look with Terry. The Ministry personnel shuffled uncomfortably in their seats, Fudge whispering furiously with Bagman who waved his wand, spelling the (now) spare two seats to disappear.
"Well, obviously." Draco drawled. "The boy-who-lived didn't look too happy to be dragged into this whole tournament mess in the first place, if it wasn't compulsory there was no chance he'd have attended the first task, and we all know this ball is just traditional."
"Fudge won't be happy." Daphne continued. "We all know there's no way he'd have been here if he though Potter wouldn't show."
"My father said Fudge was going to try and talk to Potter after the first task, but that when he went to find Potter in the tent he had disappeared." Draco mused, speculatively looking at the menus which had just appeared in front of them. "I think he wanted Potter's endorsement." He added.
"For the election?" Harry asked, vaguely remembering Fudge mentioning something about it before the first task - he hadn't really been paying attention at the time though. "Why would he want Potter's endorsement?"
"Potter has more power than the Minister at this point." Blaise replied coolly.
"Well," Terry rubbed his hands together, anxiously changing the subject, "enough about Potter. I'm more excited about finally being able to eat something today." The normal lunch had been cancelled as the school prepared for the feast, everyone being forced to resort to whatever haul of sweets they'd received for Christmas - which, luckily for Harry, was quite a lot.
"How do we order?" Harry asked with a frown. Normally Hogwarts food just magically appeared in front of them, but no such thing was happening today.
"You just read it whichever meal you want." Draco replied, before demonstrating himself, ordering the beef sirloin.
"Woah." Harry exclaimed. There was something about magic... it just never got old - though Draco didn't seem to share the same wonder. It was probably different when you spent over a decade of your life without it, as opposed to being born into a family who uses it daily and never having to live without it.
"After about a hundred Ministry and Malfoy dinners you get used to it." Draco explained, seeing Harry's expression. Harry nodded before turning his attention back to the menu, slightly nostalgic for the normal Christmas roast he'd have at home - there was no turkey option today.
Deciding roast chicken was a good replacement Harry quickly ordered that, grinning widely as it appeared on his plate and immediately diving in to satiate his hungry stomach.
Harry was almost surprised to find himself having a good time. It wasn't that he hadn't been somewhat looking forward to the Yule Ball, but since the moment it was announced the feeling of dread had just made a home for itself inside him, constantly festering and stewing. Yet, here he was, having a good - maybe even great - time.
The roast chicken wasn't quite Christmas, there were no pigs-in-blankets (Harry's favourite) and there were no crackers, also, contrary to the name, there was no Yule log, which was a little but disappointing, but the actual food was amazing - as it always was - and he was with his friends, and it had started lightly snowing outside so it started to feel like Christmas again. Then everyone started to dance.
Harry was slightly less keen on that - to be honest, he wasn't sure why everyone else was.
Perhaps wizards were just weird (they definitely were) but Harry was convinced that any muggle school dance would not have this much dancing. It would be standing on the outskirts of the ratty, mouldy school gym and just chatting nonsense with your friends.
Terry whispered something in Tracey's ear and a second later they made their way to the dance floor, quickly followed by Blaise and Ginny, then Draco and Pansy and a second later everyone was gone. Except Harry.
Daphne turned to him expectantly. "Do you want..." Harry paused dramatically, "some more pumpkin juice?" Harry asked and Daphne turned away, rolling her eyes as she looked to the dance floor wistfully. Harry laughed, "Just kidding. M'lady." He offered her a hand and Daphne grinned.
"Ass."
"C'mon. I'm not..." Harry looked around the hall, his eyes catching on Ron who sat sulking in his seat, the girl next to him (presumably his date) and her head in her hands, frustrated, "Ron Weasley. I wouldn't leave you hanging like that." Daphne laughed and they joined the others on the dance hall. "I ought to warn you though... I don't have much experience - never went to any of those Ministry balls or whatever like the rest of you, well, except for your ball, but we didn't exactly dance there and -" Harry rambled anxiously, but Daphne just grabbed his hand and put it around her waist, shrugging slightly.
"It's fine." she said, "Just try to avoid my feet."
"Easier said than done." Harry mumbled, evoking another laugh. He tried to listen to her advice, his eyes fixated on the ground as he watched their feet move, hers a graceful waltz and his a disappointing shuffle, but he tried his best - and he only stepped on her once, which was almost an achievement.
Thankfully it didn't take too long until the music turned into something more appropriate for a school dance as opposed to some sort of formal affair. Though, it had been amusing to watch some of the teachers dancing - Moody and Vector definitely made an interesting pair as did Snape and Sinistra.
Harry enjoyed the tables turning. He'd gone from one of the more inexperienced to the one laughing at the normally rigid and composed Slytherins trying to bop to the dance music.
Theodore Nott, who'd been accompanied by Isobel (another Ravenclaw fourth year), had seemed so disgusted by the idea of informal dancing that he'd stalked off the stage - perhaps he was just scared of embarrassing himself.
"Loosen up Draco." Blaise teased, shouting over the music. He seemed very at ease with the style - even more so than Harry. Draco on the other hand...
"Shut up, Blaise." Draco said, unable to conceal the blush rising up his neck.
"I'm going to get a drink. Anyone-" Harry didn't even finish his question as everyone looked at him hopefully. "Well, I can't carry drinks for all of you." There were a dozen people there, and he only had two hands.
"I'll come." Draco said quickly, clearly eager to get off the dance floor and away from Blaise's scrutinising gaze. They approached the drinks table just as Viktor Krum himself did.
"Viktor." Draco nodded to the Bulgarian. "This is my friend Harry." Harry tried to not blink at how foreign the word 'friend' sounded coming from Draco. Though, by this point, it was almost indisputable that Draco Malfoy was his friend, and that he even, sort of, kind of, maybe liked him - or at least didn't despise his existence anymore (especially when he was introducing him to a professional quidditch player, and one of Krum's calibre as well).
"Harry." Viktor sounded out his name with a slight nod, before stopping, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Like Harry Potter." He stated.
"Uh, yeah, but no connections there at all." Harry said, deflecting by turning his head to the drinks table and grabbing a few bottles of pumpkin juice. "You're here with Hermione?" Harry asked, still slightly curious as to how that happened.
Viktor grinned broadly. "Yes, Herme-oh-knee," he paused over the word, enunciating it slowly as though he was trying really hard to get the pronunciation right. "is a wonderful girl, and not as... she is... sorry - English does not come easily to me - she is not like those girls who always follow me for my fame."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Your English is really impressive actually," Viktor half-looked as though he was blushing. Perhaps Harry's earlier calculations of the Bulgarian were rash... right now he just seemed... human. "As was your performance in the first task." Harry said - even though all he knew about the task were various retellings from Terry. It at least solidified some sort of alibi.
Viktor grunted. He sounded disappointed. "Should've done better."
"You won."
"Yes, but perhaps if Potter had competed I would've not. My performance was not complete..." he frowned, searching for the right vocabulary, his eyes lit up, "Ah, it was not without flaw."
"I don't know..." Harry replied, "Perhaps Potter didn't compete because he isn't as powerful as the rest of you - he is three years younger after all." Harry didn't even know why he said it, there was just this innate part of him who wanted to both put himself down and rise Viktor up... he seemed like a surprisingly nice person - despite his surly disposition.
Viktor looked sceptical. "Perhaps. I should return to Herme-oh-knee, before she finds someone better..." he said, before walking off with two drinks in his hand. Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry who stifled a laugh.
"Well, he's not what I expected."
"No, Viktor's a strange one. It's as if he both curses his fame and doesn't realise he has it."
Grabbing the drinks Harry and Draco made their way back to the group. "Took you long enough," Terry's eyes were fixated on the bottle but Harry quickly moved it out of his reach just as he made a lunge for it.
"Tut tut," Harry reprimanded with a smirk as he handed out the spare drinks to Daphne, Ant and Mike, "that's not an apt appreciation for my endeavour." Terry rolled his eyes and reached for the bottle again, Harry simply took a step back from a mildly frustrated Terry, the rest of the group looking on in amusement, each of them by this point had their hands on their own drink.
"C'mon Harry."
"Say the magic word."
"Expelliarmus." Terry whispered, his hand on his wand.
"Oh you've got to be kidding me." Harry groaned as the bottle flew into Terry's hand, Harry too surprised to do anything about it. "You couldn't have just said 'thanks'?"
"Nah." Terry replied, taking a swig before wiping off the foam with a cheeky grin.
"See what I have to put up with on a daily basis." Harry muttered to Draco who was still standing next to him. The latter suppressed a grin, but Harry could still see how the corner of his lips turned up.
"The Slytherin dorm is far more distinguished." Draco replied quietly.
"Oh, after seeing those dance moves, I can imagine." Harry snarked, nodding in Blaise's direction who was going slightly mad on the dance floor. Harry wouldn't be surprised if he was actually chugging down Odgen's Firewhisky instead of the non-alcoholic Pumpkin Juice.
"Please say you haven't based your judgment of all Slytherins on Blaise, that would be a tragedy." Draco returned, a small smile on his face as he watched Blaise make a fool of himself.
"That would be harsh... Would you prefer it if I based you all off Nott - or Goyle?" Harry laughed at Draco's expression of disgust.
"I have no idea how either Crabbe or Goyle got into Slytherin. They show absolutely no ambition and no cunning - unless it was to join the most successful house in Hogwarts so they'd get more food at parties."
"I don't know which part is more surprising... that Slytherins know how to party or that you think you're the most successful house in Hogwarts. I do vividly remember beating you last year in both the Quidditch Cup and the House Cup."
"Well, we both know that if there was any quidditch this year you would stand no chance."
"How's that? I still fly rings around you in flying class even though you have a Nimbus 2001." Harry jested.
"Pfft. You wish." Draco replied. "Even on a firebolt you wouldn't be able to beat me Reynolds."
"I think you're once more forgetting that every time I've played you I've beaten you to the snitch."
Draco turned to him with a grin. "Touché, but next time," Draco waggled his finger at him, "next time you are going down."
"Sure." Harry rolled his eyes, grinning as he surveyed his friends on the dance floor. It had been a good night.
Laughing the fourth year Ravenclaw boys tumbled into the dormitory, the floors still lined with wrapping paper from earlier in the day.
"Did you see Moody's face?" Mike said, howling with laughter.
"Moody?! I was too focussed on Snape!" Anthony replied, leaping on his bed.
Harry watched on with an amused smile, taking off his jacket. He - to his dismay - hadn't seen the ordeal, instead he'd been outside with Daphne at the time, getting some fresh air.
"I can't believe McGonagall actually went along with it." Mike continued.
"I guess after dancing with Hagrid anything seemed better." Terry replied and the boys dissolved into laughter as they reminisced McGonagall being lead onto the dance floor by a definitely tipsy Hagrid (which Harry had thankfully been present for).
The laughter eventually turned into a content (and tired) silence, and Terry made his way over to Harry. "It's not Christmas anymore." Terry whispered in Harry's ear and his heart dropped.
Christmas was over, and as the hand struck midnight, Harry and Terry's deal struck in. It was time to tell Mike and Anthony.
"Look what I clinched." Michael proudly revealed a bottle of Odgen's Firewhisky.
"Shit." Anthony replied, his eyes raking over the bottles with unrestrained glee. "How'd you get those?"
"Stole it from Roger Davies' stash - he was too busy drooling over Fleur Delacour to notice."
"Rad." Anthony grinned.
"Guys," Harry paused, reluctant to snatch the grins away from their faces, but he felt Terry's eyes on him and he knew he had no choice. Not only was this the deal he had made but they deserved to know. "I have to tell you something. Something important."
Michael and Anthony turned to Harry, before exchanging a glance, wry smirks on each of their faces. "About time we had this conversation." Michael said, leaning back onto the foot of his bed as he uncapped the Firewhisky, muttering something under his breath which sounded suspiciously like 'Friends, my ass'.
"What?" Harry replied, confused.
"What?" Michael shot back, a playful grin working its way onto his face as he waggled his eyebrows.
"I don't know what you think this is about, but it's not... whatever that's about." Harry gestured to Michael's amused expression.
Michael straightened against the bed, snapping into a more serious position, a frown plastered on his face.
"I have a feeling I'm going to need some of that for this conversation." Anthony gestured to the firewhisky, climbing over the beds to grab it out of Michael's hand, chugging some down. Before immediately spitting it out. "Damn," he hissed, "anyone got some water?" he asked hoarsely before muttering, "I thought whisky was meant to taste good."
"Ant..." Harry started seriously and Anthony's gaze returned to him.
"Harry," he paused, his gaze once more flickering towards the firewhisky with a mixture of disappointment and disgust, "I know," he shared a look with Mike, "well, we know."
"I don't think you do..." Harry started sceptically.
"So, you're not Harry Potter?" Harry whipped his head round to Mike. "I mean," he laughed hoarsely, "if that's not confirmation, I don't know what is."
"You know? You actually know..." Harry ruffled his hair anxiously. "How did you know?"
"We're not Gryffindors dude."