Disclaimer: characters aren't mine.
AN: this is in answer to the Challenge
BeginningsBeginningsBeginnings
In Hogwarts, there were two main types of celebration. The first was the loud, boisterous, common room celebration, full of drunks and general merriment. The second was the ball, a formal, noble and aloof practice where there was old dances and no drink (sadly). The only other type found within the ancient walls was practiced mainly by the Slytherins, and it was by far the easiest to be part of – it was a quiet gathering, but it was a comfortable silence, with few conversations. Sitting around the fire with a few drinks and a quiet victory.
But Hogwarts tended to run to the old and formal. And so, with the death of Voldemort, there came a ball.
It was only days before the event, the celebrations of other houses still echoing in the ancient walls of the Slytherin dungeons when Pansy announced that she needed a model.
Pansy had long ago began the practice of making her own dresses, and as she couldn't very well take it in on herself, she needed someone of her height and build to model. This task fell, once again, into the hands of the only person present who fit the bill – one Blaise Zabini.
And so the quiet gathering became a thoughtful jury (and judge, and if necessary, though highly doubtful, executioner) on the dress.
It was an astonishing dress, and something only Pansy could ever make. The bodice was a corset, hugging the figure beneath it in a swathe of blood red, silver lacing and ribbons drawing the eye on every seam. The skirt was full, with a flowing countenance. The silver embroidery bedecked it in a simple yet elegant teardrop design.
'Definitely your colour Blaise' Draco commented. Blaise attempted a scowl in reply, but had to give it up and replace it with a pirouette and the ever famous Snapesque hair flick of legend.
The jury commented on the beauty, and the verdict was given – the dress was perfection. The female members settled for some good-hearted jealousy, as the males sat in curious awe – if Blaise could look that good in it, then damn they were tempted to try.
And so it began that the Slytherins prepared for the ball. There was much indecision over shoes, earrings, hair and outfits, but each decision was met with an appreciative audience – they all knew that the court of Slytherin was unrivalled in beauty.
There was also much swapping of dates – 'Theo's wearing silver, so that'll match your dress', 'Draco's shirt really goes with your dress' – and hmm ha-ing over minute details, but finally, as the time before the ball grew even shorter, everything was settled.
The bustle of the last few days died down into a buzz of excited small talk and ponderings - who'll wear what, go with whom and what were they thinking?
And as their last day drew to a close, there was a quiet toast to the fallen in a not-quite-final farewell.
So began an unforgettable celebration of the victorious, under the twinkling eyes of the stars, for all the world to see.
CelebrationsCelebrationsCelebrations
At every ball there is something unexpected, some quirk dredged up from the back of the Head's mind. One of the most memorable was the incident with the ghost of Christmas past, and that in itself was something worth telling the grandkids, but no quirk was ever quite so memorable as this.
The ball was in full swing, the students dancing wildly to whatever new teen-sensation band had been hired and the teachers were all just tipsy enough not to care.
And that's when it happened. A sound like nothing anyone had ever heard before – half angel, half banshee – and the appearance of a misbegotten soul in the doorway. Every head turned in the stranger's direction, noticing first the shock of black hair surrounding luminous blue eyes. Those eyes… they seemed familiar to Harry and his close disciples. Those eyes… they stirred the folds of a locked away memory, laughter sparkling in them as he arched backwards and fell… eyes that he never thought to see again.
'Sirius…' Harry breathed out, emotions warring in his own eyes, unshed tears making them shine.
The not-quite-stranger nodded slowly; watching for a reaction, waiting for a sign. Harry ran to him, barely noticing the loss of age, the rounder, cleaner face. Sirius was here, alive! Harry didn't know how or why, but nor did he care because Sirius was here! All he'd ever wished for and exactly what he needed.
The Slytherins looked on, small smiles gracing their sombre faces. Draco nodded, they knew, and they understood. They too would give anything for another chance with someone they loved.
Remus ran from the head table to embrace his old friend.
'You're alive!'
'Yes.'
'But… how?' he questioned.
They whispered the answers to one another, holding each other close, assuring each other it was real. This was all real, not a dream, not a prank or a mirage.
The band took up playing as the pair sat to whisper under the barest illusion of privacy. Harry threw himself back into the thick of it with more vigour, and finally allowed himself to think that perhaps there was a happy ending in all of this. Some glimmer of joy and the fire of a hope reawakened.
And in the crush of bodies, one body watched, eyes settling on a beautiful someone, and the body thought hat perhaps tonight it would work up the courage to ask. Because tonight the air was alive, crackling with energy, breathing magic, and the body thought that tonight anything could happen.
In the Slytherin corner all was well. Blaise was laughing merrily, leaning close to Millie so they could hear each other through the pulsing notes booming from the speakers. Draco leant back and watched the proceedings somewhat distantly.
At intervals people would come talk to him, excited and breathless, 'isn't it great' and 'cool'-ing him. And he would smile and nod and agree wholeheartedly before they rushed off, throwing themselves into the pit of heaving bodies. But he did not join them. He was happy just to sit back and listen. To enjoy the atmosphere.
As the song closed, in the gap between the end of one and the beginning of another, there was a ringing exclamation.
'This one's for the fallen!' And in typical Hogwarts style; glasses were raised, hats were thrown, and the pulsing beat began anew.
ASilverSunriseASilverSunrise
The time ticked away, and both the students and teachers eventually retired, leaving only a handful of people in the hall. Soft music was playing from the speakers and some people danced. Others were content simply to watch, lost in thought. Among those watching were the ghosts, pale and beautiful in the twinkling lights. To the surprise of almost everyone present, the Bloody Baron glided over to his love to ask for a dance.
'Oh Baron,' the Grey Lady exclaimed 'I thought you'd never ask!' And as they took to the floor, floating, the Baron smiled for the first time in years.
The watchful body left his post and took off across the grounds. He sat beside an old oak tree, watching the light glitter in its fiery dance across the lake.
For what felt like hours but was probably only about 20 minutes, he watched the ripples and waves, listening to the sounds of the forest. Before long he felt the comforting warmth of a body sitting down beside him. It was the very one he's watched all night, the one he longed for. The one he could very well love.
'Blaise…' he breathed out in amazement.
'I saw you watching.' Blaise lifted his eyebrows, amused at the other boys surprise.
'Yes I rather thought you might of.'
'What do you want from me Neville?' he asked, daring to hope, daring to allow himself to think that for one moment that it was finally coming true…
'This.' And then Neville kissed him sweetly. And they lay back, beneath the oak tree, happy with the world, and watched as the sun painted the sky in a wash of colours.
Holding hands, they watched the silver sunrise and began to believe in their happy ending.
