The Yule Ball chapter, one i enjoyed writing greatly, and mostly enjoyed editing... even if my beta readers made me work for it. As always, my brilliant beta readers are in need of thanks, so: gamer0890, DJKopper, x102reddragon, DarknessEnthroned and WardyWoo. Your genius is frightening, and your help is utterly humbling. Thanks 3
Chapter 6 - The Yule Ball
Christmas Day hammered against the windows and snow plummeted from the sky. Harry was mainly aware of this because of Hedwig's indignant tapping on the window. He snatched up one of Dudley's old and over-large t-shirts and flung the window open. He grimaced as Hedwig rustled her wings, spraying him with half of the night's snow, but he didn't hesitate in drying her off.
Harry never would have guessed a snowy owl could be so prickly about the cold and wet, either the name was a joke or luxury had spoiled her. Still, she had made the flight to wherever Sirius was now, and managed it all in a few nights. He pocketed the letter that she had flown all this way to deliver, but Sirius could wait a little while longer.
He grabbed his duvet, still warm from his sleep, and began dabbing at Hedwig. He took extra care with her wings. Her beautiful feathers were sodden and flattened. Each time Harry released Hedwig for a half second she rustled her wings. He decided to just let her take care of the drying, since she was more practised anyway.
An orange blaze smouldered away in the fireplace, but not a single person was to be seen. He settled down near the warmth and Hedwig gave a pleased hoot. She nuzzled into his arms; a gesture that made him swell with affection. The trust and love she held for him was invaluable when returning to the Dursleys house each year. Watching her sit in her cage was of little comfort though.
He had done all he could for Hedwig for now. Harry sighed and opened the letter. Sirius' replies had been more urgent and crazed since he'd told him about the dragon, not that Harry could blame him.
Harry,
Congratulations, a date? With an older French bird, I'm so proud.
Don't forget why you're even in this situation though, someone wanted you in this tournament. You have an enemy under the same roof who wants you dead. I'm delighted to hear you've found someone who makes you happy, really I am, but please look out for yourself.
There is a plethora of dangerous wizards hovering around Hogwarts, events like this draw all sorts out of the woodwork. We have talked about them before Harry, keep your eyes open and try to listen to Mad-Eye. He really does know his stuff.
After this ball, you'll have to tell me about this bird, all you managed to write was some gushing nonsense from a lovesick fool. I don't even think your dad had the nerve to compliment your mum's ears.
Don't wait so long to write to me again.
-S
P.S. Merry Christmas Harry.
Harry groaned, a passing comment about even her ears being cute and suddenly he was head over heels for Fleur. Sirius had always been a massive git. His hand trembled as he held the letter, but Sirius' words of warning rang in his mind. He threw the letter onto the fire. The coals devoured the parchment, curling the thick paper as the flames grew to lick the ink, and just like that Sirius' words were gone.
Hedwig nuzzled into his shoulder. He laid a hand on her still drying feathers and scratched at the joint between her wing and back. She hooted gently and shut her eyes. A comfortable embrace they had often shared.
Hedwig's talons woke him, the pinch against his chest making him jolt upright. Laughter trampled down the stairs and a hoard of giggling girls flooded the common room, with an armful of presents each.
Hedwig's talons stuck into his pyjamas, and pain shot through his shoulder. She hooted her disapproval. Harry groaned, her talons dug in deep, and woke him up fully. He shot up the stairs to the boy's dormitories. The girl's giggles followed him — chasing him up all the way to his bed.
His dorm was cool and dimly lit, the heavy clouds blocked most of the sun, but enough light made it through the thick curtains. Ron's snoring drowned out any other noise until Neville cheerfully greeted him from his four poster bed, curtains drawn-open to the world and a modest pile of gifts sat unwrapped at his feet. Harry noticed him admiring a stick of chewing gum, one that he hadn't opened yet.
"Merry Christmas Neville, get anything good?"
"Oh nothing too crazy," Neville's small grin said otherwise.
His own bed sagged with gifts, though the typical Weasley package took centre stage atop the lot; he couldn't stop the grin from rising. Over the many years his own pile grew larger and larger, he couldn't fight the swell of emotions that the sight brought him. He would have to send Mrs Weasley something really special one year.
Hedwig flew over to her cage with a rustle of wings, but the weather had clearly put her off returning. He would have to walk her back to the owlery later, or else face her wrath when she couldn't rest to her usual standard.
"Merry Christmas, Harry," Ron mumbled.
Harry turned to see Ron rub his eyes; which had bulged when they found his presents. Ron scrambled up, setting about to tear the presents apart. Harry had to give it to him, he certainly would have given Dudley a run for his money with enthusiasm, even if he got a lot less.
Harry chuckled, Ron pushed the package from his mother aside, but he knew Ron would wear the sweater just as often as any of the Weasley's, though he never admitted to liking them. Harry pulled his own sweater over his head before touching another present. It fit him better than most of his clothes, Mrs Weasley had a knack for getting the right sizes.
"Look at this," Ron gushed, holding a wooden box, "A broomstick servicing kit. Katie got it for me, all I got her was some perfume…" Harry blinked, Ron had talked about the perks of having a broomstick servicing kit for years, and he usually ended his rants with the cost.
"Don't worry about it, I'm sure tonight will be more important than any present."
Ron flashed Harry a glum and dejected look. Harry chuckled. Ron and Katie had, by all accounts, been doing very well; but Ron was still determined to believe he would mess it up.
Harry tore open a pile of wrapping paper only to find a bunch of Hagrid's rock cakes, a thick looking sky blue scarf, and a jar. Inside was some foul smelling dark brown gunk; despite the label on it saying 'polish' he doubted it was fit for humans to be near. The stuff seemed to be solid, he turned it over and found it wouldn't budge an inch. He tucked it into his trunk, with a mental note to thank Hagrid for it and find a pair of thick gloves.
Hermione had bought him an assortment of bottles, though none like he had ever seen before, these were 'personal grooming supplies'. The 'Sleakeasy's No Fuss Hair Spray' was a vibrant purple, covered in slogans that proclaimed its ease of use. Harry frowned. Was Hermione trying to say something?
He hadn't really taken any care in his appearance, but perhaps she was trying to give him a subtle hint, though that wasn't usually Hermione's style. She was about as subtle as a dragon. The musky aroma from the small bottle of aftershave nearly made Harry choke, it wasn't unpleasant really, just sharp.
Ron had bought him an assortment of Honeydukes sweets, Harry had done the same of course, since he had been far too busy to focus much on gifts. And he hadn't been sure until recently that Ron would be getting one.
With only a few students having left for home during the Christmas holidays, the dorm was full enough without any of their usual visitors on Christmas. So Harry dragged Ron out into the common room to find the twins, Ginny and Hermione; only to be hit with just how full it had become. Every seat was already taken, some students sat around singing muggle Christmas songs, but most just compared presents.
It didn't take too long for the good spirit and company to fill him, and he found himself laughing at Fred and George's antics; they had never had such a large audience at Christmas they were taking full advantage. Hermione had thanked him for his gift, though Harry assumed she was being polite, he had been useless with gifts this year.
The festive nature of the morning gnawed at him. The day would creep by at this rate, when all he wanted was to get to the ball.
That evening Harry ran a battered comb through his hair, Sleakeasy's had worked their promised magic, for the first time ever his hair sat mostly-tamed. The effect wasn't entirely unpleasant, despite Ron's laughter.
Once more he checked his robes; everything was in the right place. The tie was pristine thanks to a spell from Hermione, his shoes glistened with some polish Dean had offered him, and he had even shaved using a dented old thing Ron had thrown to him.
He doubted Fleur would have asked him to the ball if she was fixated on looks, or presentableness, but he wouldn't disrespect her by showing up looking like a slob. He had some pride after all.
His gobstones were tucked in a pocket near his bottom, his dress robes lacked pockets, something he had lamented more than once, but Mrs Weasley had picked them out for him, so he couldn't be too upset. It was nice to have the gobstones at hand, even if they were unlikely to see any use, unless things went horribly.
Which wasn't going to happen.
He pulled in a steadying breath, it didn't slow his heart but at least felt like he tried. Fleur would have every eye on her tonight, it would be unavoidable.
Her eyes would be on him though, something he wasn't prepared for, not in the slightest.
The rest of the room wasn't even mildly intimidating compared to a wrong look from Fleur Delacour, he had faced the scorn of his schoolmates plenty.
Ron groaned, and Harry looked over to see him ripping at lace that ruffled every stitch and seam. Perhaps a few hundred years ago it would have been fashionable, but not even Sir Nick looked half as silly, though Ron might take a botched beheading over being seen in those robes.
"You look good Ron, fretting about that lace won't fix anything," Harry said.
The lie was harmless, well, harmless enough. Ron needed confidence tonight, Katie wasn't going to be put off by Ron's robes, the pair had been getting closer throughout December. To the point where Harry had walked in on them kissing once after staying with Moody, Ron had blustered and fussed, but Katie seemed fairly happy.
"She's excited, don't mess it up being a burke."
Ron nodded, his head lifted to meet Harry's eyes, his weak smile was plenty better than the pale grimace he had walked into. Harry matched it with his own grin, trying to take comfort in what he had said to Ron; if only Fleur was half as forgiving as Katie.
The common room was a mess, fourth years and above were dressed up and eager, while younger students who hadn't found a date were sullen. Ginny beamed at Neville who blushed and glanced worriedly at Ron. Harry was glad he didn't have to meet Fleur here, being trapped in such a small room with all these nervous people, it just might get to him.
Katie Bell bounded over, her smile split her face, "Hey Ron… you… look awful, let's fix you up real quick."
Ron groaned, but Katie just tugged him back up to where he had come from. Harry chuckled and gave Ron a good natured wave. Katie was turning out to be pretty good for Ron.
It was still a good half an hour until he was supposed to meet Fleur at the Entrance Hall, though he had heard enough about silly romantic movies to know he was supposed to be there first. For some reason that was important.
As he thought of it, people began to depart for the Ball, the portrait opening crammed full of students for a solid few minutes. At some point Hermione had found him, her hair too had been brushed into submission; she had beaten the bounce out of it. However she had managed it, the result was noticeable.
"You look fantastic, Viktor is going to faint when he sees you."
Hermione laughed into her hand. "Thank you, though I would hope a little bit of makeup and a lot of hair care potions wouldn't make him react too differently. All this isn't really me. It took three hours to do this, and I'm not even sure it was worth it."
"It doesn't matter if it was worth it, you always look good." he said, not even worried that it might sound a little forward. Hermione was one of the best people he had ever met.
"I bet having that silver hair wouldn't hurt though…"
"Oh shut up, I was trying to be nice."
"I know, and I appreciate it a lot. It's just hard to feel beautiful with Fleur around."
Harry missed his step and frowned at Hermione, unsure if she was joking or not, but he hoped she was. Fleur was going to be a big part of the rest of his year, and Hermione would be too. He was sure of it. If they didn't get along — he could make it work, he had to make it work.
Hermione sighed. "It's not like that, just, you know, I feel really good about myself tonight and she's going to look perfect." She deflated a little and shook her head. "It's not something that bothers me all that much, and I'm not usually trying to look my best." Her wry laugh did help.
"Don't worry about it. It's not going to be an issue I promise."
"You can't know that." She pulled him through the portrait hole with her, and on some level Harry knew that she was right, she always was.
The school was bursting with energy, the portraits on the walls called out encouragement and greetings aplenty. Harry witnessed a few suits of armour shaking where they stood as if eager to join them, he would have loved to see them try. Hogwarts was so heavily imbued with magic it was hard to know what was possible.
As they drew closer to the great hall more and more festive decorations sprung up, golden bubbles that burst into glitter; only to disappear before falling on the students. Thick ropes of holly and mistletoe stretched along the stone walls, giving them an oddly overgrown look.
The entrance hall was filled to bursting with students, most paired off together and filed into the great hall. Harry noticed a few startling pairs wandering in together, somehow he had never expected a Slytherin student to come with someone from another house, let alone Hufflepuffs.
The area here was covered in thick rugs, each new step on it drew sighs of relief from everyone gathered. The huge doors to the outside were flung open, despite the amassed snow not a single hint of chill flowed in.
A cluster of girls from Beauxbatons that Harry had seen Fleur talk to were hovering in that doorway. They were wearing almost scandalous dresses, not quite sheer enough to see through but not thick enough to be fully decent. If Fleur was dressed like one of them he would probably pass out.
The room quickly emptied, Harry heard the gasps and exclamations as the others entered the great hall, but he didn't pay them any mind, nothing in there could compare to what he was waiting for.
Viktor Krum walked over, his eyes never left Hermione's and Harry shuffled aside. He tried to give them some privacy, but Viktor clearly didn't mind if anyone overheard as he began his compliments of Hermione. Though flowery, they certainly did get his point across, Harry felt he was probably blushing as much as Hermione.
Cedric Diggory walked out with Cho Chang on his arm, they matched their outfits, and both seemed to glow with their joy. Harry offered them a smile, not quite prepared to trust anything else. Cedric waved and grinned at him.
Harry's date to the Ball was hardly a secret, Fleur had been heard talking about it by seemingly everyone. The thought that Fleur was excited made him go to sleep giddy the past few weeks. Harry would have been more than happy with a lot less.
But Fleur giggling with her friends talking about him, somehow that made him feel oddly proud. Not like winning the Hogwarts Gobstones Championship, but in a way that made it impossible to hide his grin.
Professor McGonagall walked in, with a small roll of parchment, while casting a casual eye over those gathered. When it landed on Harry she frowned, she muttered to herself and stalked into a corner, shaking her head the whole time. Ever punctual, the rumour was she'd been born an hour early, and kept everyone to her standard.
He swallowed and forced himself to wait patiently, getting worked up wouldn't do him any favours. He slipped a hand behind his back and let his fingers slide through the gathered gobstones, he didn't pull them out, he just fidgeted with them.
It didn't take all that long for Fleur to arrive, Cho Chang's gasp warned him ahead of time, Harry managed to get himself straight-backed and head high before she came into sight.
His mind simply failed to work.
Fleur strode along, her hair pulled back and gathered in a loose braid entwined with flowers. Baby blue and lavender coloured, they almost seemed to be some crown, the flowers adorned her like nothing he had ever seen. The majority of silvery locks flowed down below her shoulder, half braided half loose. It was stunning, she was stunning. She looked like she had walked out of a fairytale. Her dress was silver, it flowed and rippled with each confident stride. Her blue eyes glowed as they met his own.
Harry almost didn't realise she had walked right up to him, though once his eyes found her beatific smile everything rushed back to his mind. This woman was his date.
There was no compliment he could offer Fleur, none that did justice at least. "You look perfect." His voice was weak, he could hear it even as the words slipped out.
He offered her his hand, which she took, and placed a chaste kiss on the back of her hand.
Her tinkling laugh answered him, and those eyes roamed over him, "You look delightful, 'Arry."
Harry felt like he had grown a few inches from that compliment alone, and it had nothing to do with the heeled shoes he was wearing.
"Now that you are all here, we will have you enter through in order of positions, Mr Krum and Miss Granger you'll enter first, Mr Potter and Miss Delacour will enter second, And Mr Diggory and Miss Chang to follow." She gave them a level look, and they all fell in line without being prompted further.
Fleur's arm slipped around his, Harry pulled it closer trying to copy the casual nature Viktor had managed. She warmed him with her touch, he had noticed it a few times before, at first he had thought he was imagining things; but she certainly did run warmer than him. Those Veela at the Quidditch World Cup had thrown fireballs, Harry had somehow managed to forget that.
Fleur smiled down at him, he had forgotten that too. She was taller than most in the school, and he was average in height, if he were being a little generous.
It was a little late to think of that — the doors to the great hall swung open.
The room was filled with silver and glittering things. Harry kept his eyes ahead as he walked, but glimpses of giant ice crystals shone at him from the large tables he passed. Mostly he saw students gaping in at them all, luckily Hermione was catching a lot of attention, and if not her then Fleur took the eyes of the rest.
It was probably the longest he had been in the centre of attention all year without some sort of jeer being thrown at him. Eyes filled with envy or anger, one or two with awe, watched them make their unimpressive procession to the head table. The table was gone, and in its place was an ornate work of art, covered with glittering glass and sanctimonious silverware. Gilded chairs, like thrones, surrounded it.
He led Fleur to a pair of chairs on the edge of a curve, to avoid most of the attention, he made sure to hold her chair out for her and wait till she sat before sitting himself. Apparently these kinds of manners were of the utmost importance in Beauxbatons. Fleur giggled and offered him a grin.
"Thank you," she said, her voice full of amusement. "Which of my classmates 'ave been giving you advice?"
Harry attempted a look of indignant outrage, "I have been known to be chivalrous once or twice before." Fleur raised a sculpted eyebrow, amusement pouring from her look. "Fine," Harry sighed, "it was Luc Bennet, after our match, and yesterday before dinner."
Fleur glowered at the table for the briefest of moments. Finally, "Luc Bennet," there was a clear emphasis on the way she said his name, even through her breathy voice. "You were the perfect gentleman, though I do not expect you to act out of the ordinary for me, I find myself enjoying your natural demeanour."
Harry took a second to figure out what she was saying, but when he gave her a grin, she matched it. He had to pull himself back from making some silly joke, funny as it might be to put his feet on the table, he wouldn't risk it. Not tonight anyway.
Chairs scraped along the floor all around, Harry turned to see the Minister for Magic seated next to him, his eyes fixed on Harry. He wished he could groan, but not tonight, this was supposed to be an important day after all. Though really the Minister should be doing more important stuff on Christmas Day, like working alone in his office.
He forced a smile on his face, one that Fudge matched smoothly, hands were shook soon after. Fudge leaned past Harry to offer his hand to Fleur too, which at least wasn't as rude as Harry might have expected. Fleur gave Harry a look when the Minister turned away, he mouthed 'later' to her, which she seemed confused by. Perhaps lip reading a second language was a skill she didn't have, Harry's face warmed and he shook his head.
Dumbledore rose before the gathered students and adults, and all fell silent within seconds. Though not a grand looking man, Harry noted just how immediate the respect for the Headmaster had taken hold, not a single person stirred. A warm smile blossomed on his wrinkled face, and he produced a small piece of paper out of thin air, after a quick inspection he announced to the room, 'pork chops' and as if it were the most normal thing he sat down. Only to find a plate with steaming hot food in front of him, his delighted chuckle made Harry laugh too.
"'E certainly is a strange man, brilliant though." Fleur muttered to Harry. Harry grinned, very true, but it was what made Dumbledore and Hogwarts so special. He wouldn't have changed it for the world.
"He has long been in the eye of the Wizarding World, with time it gets easier." Fudge announced, as though he had been a part of their conversation.
"I suppose that is true. We 'eard rumours in Beauxbatons that, when 'e wasn't even a teenager, the best in the world were trying to tie themselves to 'im."
Harry had never given much thought to a young Dumbledore, but considering everything he knew about the old man, it seemed unlikely he was anything but exceptional beyond reasonable measures.
"A little before my time," The Minister for Magic laughed, he waved a menu as he fanned himself. "But yes, he has never lacked for an audience." His beady eyes roved over Harry, as if to imply something. Harry put his head down and glanced at the menu, from his periphery he noticed Fleur appraising him.
"A brilliant wizard, no doubt…" Fleur mused, her mind clearly elsewhere.
"Indeed," Fudge said, his tone matched hers perfectly.
The table was large enough to allow for some almost private conversation, though with a small effort it would be easy to address almost anyone, Harry wished Fudge would start doing that soon.
"What looks good to you?" he asked Fleur.
"Oh, the steak is the stand out choice, no doubt. Though it comes with chips, if I didn't know better I'd think the British were allergic to vegetables."
"Potatoes are vegetables, what on earth are they teaching you in Beauxbatons?"
"They are teaching us to be exceptional," Fleur retorted with a smirk, one that told him she had noticed how taken he was with her, not that it was his fault.
"Madame Maxime must be commended then," he said. He tipped his still empty glass to the woman, she gave him a weary look, but after a glance at her student her lips twisted in a grin.
Fleur ended up ordering the steak, which must have been the greatest thing ever cooked, considering the noises she made while eating it. Harry had glared at her more than once, and still she went on. His own chicken was hardly enough, somehow after eating it all he was still hungry.
The table came to a quiet, peaceful chatter while waiting for the students below to finish. Fleur flowed into conversations with ease he hadn't expected, she even managed to pull him in too, once or twice. Harry couldn't wait for the dancing to start, to finally be with Fleur as close to alone as he would get.
It didn't take long until the room silenced once more, and Dumbledore stood, his wand in hand. He gestured to the students who scrambled away from where he pointed his wand, and with a small wave he conjured a large stage. A group of witches walked out, each looking like the kind of person that made Aunt Petunia rush for the locks. They wore tastefully torn black clothing that showed some interesting flashes of pale skin beneath, though Harry didn't look.
A few students cheered and screamed, he supposed these were The Weird Sisters, a magical band rumoured to be playing. Fleur stood, her hand tugged at Harry until he joined her.
"Stop staring, we are supposed to dance," she teased, though there was an edge to her voice.
There was a clear opening in the centre of the room, large enough for hundreds of students but meant only for six. He and Fleur made their way down, her arm tucked pleasantly around his. They made it to the dance floor where the gathered students cheered and applauded, though a fair amount of that was for the band.
His eyes met Fleur's and for the first time he saw fear. Not the nervous, almost frantic edge that facing a dragon had inspired. This was real fear, a look he had only ever seen once or twice, but experienced plenty. He took her hands, placed one on his shoulder and the other he laced his fingers through. He gripped her hand firm, enough that her eyes shifted to it, then back to him.
He rested a hand on her waist and stepped forward. "I am here, nothing will happen." He really wasn't sure what would happen if her Veela magic manifested, the exact thing that had this brilliant woman terrified, but he could face it. Fleur nodded, and though her eyes still held that fear, her body softened.
An oddly pleasant note strummed from one of the cello's.
They took a first step, nothing outrageous. Then another. Before long they were rotating together, not exactly dancing, but Fleur's face burst with a victorious light.
Harry felt himself grin like a fool, at times they giggled together, and more often they stared into each other's eyes.
He was amazed at how soft her hands really were, even the satin of her dress could not compare. No matter how silky-smooth, the fine fabric was nothing to the glory of her perfect skin. Her warmth seeped into him, filled him, a comfortable inferno. The delightful feeling tickled the edge of his memory.
Another song started, and the rest of the students clambered to the dance floor, Fleur didn't once make an attempt to leave. Which, despite the small gesture, filled him to bursting with joy. She stepped a little closer and he could feel her breath on his cheek. His heart raced along with the music, each small turn and step rushed it along a little further.
Fleur twirled a little more exuberantly after a third song, Harry held on tight but eager to match her step for step; he wasn't going to let her go until she wanted him to. She was too perfect, and this night was already far ahead of the best he had experienced yet. Their eyes never left each other's, and their steps grew more complex though they moved in unison.
They collided with a pair, Harry offered an apology, though neither seemed to notice. They just looked on with eyes glazed — locked onto Fleur.
Harry felt her hand tense on his own, it shook a little, at that moment he knew what to do. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her along, at first towards the edge of the hall. But once she snapped out of her shock she led them towards the exit, Harry expected her to try and run, to hide herself away, that was what he usually chose to do.
Harry grinned when she turned towards the passage they had followed a few weeks ago. Their night wasn't over yet.
"I have never danced in a room with others, other than my family of course, it was amazing." Fleur breathed. Her voice started weak, but quickly grew rushed and excited, Harry knew he could have cast the greatest patronus in that moment.
The hallway wasn't nearly as well lit as the entrance hall had been, Fleur pulled her wand out and cast 'lumos,' and it bobbed behind them, bathing the way ahead in a clear light. They reached the stairs and Fleur slipped her shoes off, though they weren't heeled they looked anything but comfortable. She paused with them in hand, looking for a place for them before Harry held out a hand.
"There's a room I like to relax in a little further up, I doubt anyone uses it."
Eventually they reached the top. The large room was even more beautiful in the depths of night, the sky overhead littered in twinkling dots, Fleur released the light. Leaving them in the dimly lit room, with nothing but the stars overhead for illumination. Fleur's hair glowed pearlescent whether from the stars above, or the faint aura she emanated from time to time, he wasn't sure.
"Did you not feel... anything, while dancing?"
Harry turned, Fleur looked up into the sky, her voice sounded so small and nervous. It alarmed him.
"Nothing strange, I felt the same joy I think you did." he said. Perhaps a little forward, maybe rude, certainly presumptuous, but he felt it was true.
She laughed, with some confidence back in her voice, "No, I meant... you didn't want to do anything out of the ordinary, like impress me?"
"Not that I can remember, all I could think was how beautiful you are," he couldn't believe he had just said that. It was true of course, but he hadn't meant to say it.
"Nothing else?" he heard the smile in her tone, the dim light only showed him her pale features, not enough to define her lips. Still, that odd glow seemed wrapped around her, but it did nothing to define her.
"Nothing out of the ordinary."
She stood for a second, as though she hadn't heard, and Harry frowned after a minute. "Would you care to dance with me once more?"
Before he had even replied she flicked her wand and a small bead of light rose to the glass ceiling, it gave them just enough light to see each other clearly. Harry nodded.
Fleur's wand twirled, and a violin appeared nearby. Before long they were serenaded by a simple yet stunning song. Fleur sauntered over, her hands found their place on him once more, and Harry took a second to do the same.
Her smile was nothing short of perfect.
"My father taught me this song when I was twelve, it has stuck with me ever since," she said, softer than satin. Harry took a step.
They spun, slowly at first, it wasn't as easy as it had been in the great hall. That had been a test, almost impersonal, this was anything but. Fleur beamed at him, her eyes full of dazzling joy, he supposed his own were similar. He felt peace when dancing with Fleur.
Her hand was warm within his grip, their close proximity didn't help either, and Harry could feel the heat from Fleur flooding him. It was delightful. All too soon he was pulling back, removing his hand from her hip wistfully, earning a confused look from her. He removed the outer layer of his dress robes, a heavy dark flowing thing, to reveal a lighter fabric in emerald green underneath. "Sorry, you are too hot for that thing."
"Thank you." Her smirk alerted him to the double meaning that he hadn't considered and he blinked at her and smiled even as a faint blush rose to his cheeks. Before long Fleur's cheeks matched his own.
"Shall we?"
Fleur swept in and held him close once more, the delight of having her velvet-soft skin against his once more washed over him. They twirled and twisted; Fleur let out a laugh as she spun. The violin continued to play, the songs changed and so did their steps. When they got faster Harry had to work hard to keep up and Fleur threw herself around the room. The slower songs had them pressed closer together.
Harry couldn't say when it had happened, but after a while the songs were almost all slow. Slow but hypnotic. Fleur's head rested against the top of his, her chest was pressed up against him, and he had to focus to keep his hands on her back. They had stopped dancing a few songs ago, now they just swayed, and Fleur hummed.
A simple tune, one that was familiar at points and strange in others, he would have listened to that forever if given the chance.
Her hair was full in his face, though somehow it never tickled or disturbed him. Comfort in her arms was not what he'd ever expected, joy and perhaps laughter, but comfort was not something he had ever found so readily. From the way Fleur was acting he was fairly sure it was the same for her.
"Thank you for tonight... I have no words."
He found himself grinning into her collar bone, "You stole mine, a perfect night."
"Almost."
Harry blinked, but her head pulled back and swooped down. She captured his lips.
Her arm curved around his back, and held him in place. Fleur's lips were soft, his hand was still on her waist. When she pulled back he had to stop himself from groaning, the scent of her still filled his mind.
"Sorry, it just felt right."
Harry felt his jaw slack, he had to wrestle control back to his brain, and make some frantic refutation of her comment.
"It felt right," he replied, sounding for all the world like Gregory Goyle. He cleared his throat.
"It was amazing," he corrected.
Fleur's lips twitched, he noticed her cheeks were a deep red, no doubt his were the same. The effect of the colouring rising under her porcelain skin was stunning.
She stood before him, her usual confidence lost, instead she wore a look of excited nervousness. A feeling he mirrored; a feeling he delighted in. They were still close, she had taken a single step back, her warmth filled him.
Her face was bathed in a faint white light, and their eyes never strayed from each other. The violin floated gently in the air, though it made no sound.
Harry took a risk and pulled her closer to him. Nothing more.
But she didn't resist it at all, she even took the hint. Once more lips connected.
Sometime later, they gasped for breath. Harry could not have wiped the smile off his face if he wanted to, though he couldn't think of a single reason he would want to. Fleur fiddled with her hair, some strands had fallen loose and she held a few petals in her hand, though she smiled too. Much prettier than himself, he was sure.
He picked up his heavy robe and offered it to her, Fleur declined, and he remembered just how warm she had been against him. He almost wanted to ask about it, though the last time he had shown his complete ignorance of Veela it had offended her. He swung it around his shoulders and noticed a bright light coming from the pocket tucked away at his back, where he had placed his gobstones.
They were warm in his hand as he inspected them, dim light rolled inside the inner turmoil, never before had he seen them react without him making it happen. The newest one he had made glistened but didn't shine.
"What are those?" Fleur asked, her warm voice full of their shared delight.
"My gobstones, just some I don't like to leave around," he replied.
She had watched him play, while she hadn't mentioned it since, he doubted she would be too impressed with him showing off. Even Hermione and Ron didn't really care about gobstones, Hermione only tolerated it, the odds that Fleur would be impressed were slimmer still.
Fleur frowned as he slipped them back into his pocket, the dim light never faded, but she smiled and held her hand out for him to hold. They made their way back down the tower slowly, sharing stories of their lives.
Tales of grand adventures poured from Fleur, things from childhood like being scared in the woods with her sister while camping, or falling from a playground only to bounce back up. Harry found his own stories coming slower and less eagerly, only those from his Hogwarts years were fit for sharing, and few of those were exactly happy.
"''Ermione? She was the girl with Viktor, no?" Fleur asked. Harry nodded, though who she was hardly seemed important to the story, he had only mentioned her in passing.
"So anyway, Hagrid asked if anyone wanted to ride Buckbeak… and I was standing there like an idiot. Next thing I know it's flying over the top of the school." He laughed, despite still being able to feel the horrifying thrill, it was a tale that had grown on him, especially since managing to keep Buckbeak from the removal of his head.
"That was very brave. In Beauxbatons we have 'erds of 'ippogryphs, though we are cautioned to keep our distance."
"I bet that must be a sight to see, the hippogryphs I saw were stunning, once you got past the shock of seeing two animals mixed into one." Harry finished with a laugh once more, though Fleur didn't join in.
The rest of their walk continued, but with a kind of resigned sadness, Harry still wasn't ready for his evening to end; though it had to. The closer they got to the entrance hall the more people they saw, usually couples tucked away in alcoves, sheltered from the chill in the embrace of each other.
Harry avoided Fleur's eyes when walking past them, though she seemed to walk taller and more proud each time it happened. Her grin looked superior, Harry could feel the urge to strut around, though he couldn't see what reason Fleur had to act that way. She had only been kissing him. There was no comparison.
The Entrance Hall was bursting with people saying their goodbyes, Harry caught sight of more than a few familiar faces, Ron and Katie stood swaying with each other while watching the twins tease their dates. How they were brave enough to antagonise Alicia and Angelina, Harry would never know, but they did and received disarming smiles in return. Harry caught a glimpse of Luc Bennet leading a pale witch off into the night, unless he was very much mistaken, Luc's date was wearing a leather dress.
Fleur watched a group of her schoolmates approach, the girls were the ones Harry had seen her talking to often, but their dates were a mix of Hogwarts and Durmstrang students. A tall red haired girl approached and smiled at them both, before speaking to Fleur in French.
Harry lowered his gaze, the obvious attempt to block him out of the conversation hurt, even if it wasn't important; not really. The males of their group also seemed put out, no doubt they had been having a pleasant enough evening too.
"We did have a lovely time, thanks for asking Clarissa," Fleur replied. Her voice clipped and not nearly as friendly as he had expected, a frown marred her delightful features. "We were up in the astronomy tower, dancing together, away from prying eyes."
Clarissa, Harry assumed was the one who had spoken, looked slowly from Fleur to himself; then shrugged delicately. Her smile was as dismissive as anything Harry had seen from Aunt Petunia, instantly he wanted to say something, though really he had no idea who these people were.
She spoke once more in French and turned, seizing the arm of her date, and stormed out of the hall. Perhaps the deep snow might cool off her foul personality, though Harry knew it took more than magic to fix some people.
Fleur turned to him, "Sorry about 'er, she is always a jealous sow, I suppose she was proud of 'erself for getting a date who could dress 'imself." A pair of girls giggled at that comment, Harry hadn't realised they had lingered, focused on Fleur as he was.
"Ah, au pardon, 'Arry, this is Evélia and Mikaela, they are two of my oldest and most spectacular friends." Fleur smiled around the group, and made a gesture to the gathered males to invite them over. Harry was once more impressed at how easily she took command of a crowd of her peers.
Another set of introductions were shared, the Durmstrang student had poor English, though he had eyes only for Evélia. Something Harry was sure Fleur had noticed too. It didn't take long before they were saying their goodbyes in the hall, Fleur waved her friends off with their dates in tow. Which left them alone once more, though Harry wasn't nearly as nervous as he had been expecting.
The blue eyes he had admired so often, looked down into his own; Fleur's smile a mirror of the one from only an hour or so before. She played idly with his robes, toying with the collar at the front, "I would very much like another date… would you?"
Harry gaped.
"Of course I would," he replied, as honest as he had ever been. "If I ever say anything other than that check me for curses please."
Fleur laughed, prettily hiding her mouth behind an upraised hand, "there is a Hogsmeade weekend coming up soon, or so I've been told, I would quite like to see the village."
"Yeah it's in two weeks, I doubt there's anything there you wouldn't have seen before, but I would be delighted to take you."
"Magnifique, we will have to discuss our plans beforehand, I'm not a great fan of being surprised." Fleur clapped her hands in front of her mouth, Harry still caught the grin blossoming on her face.
He held out an arm to her, with a slight smirk and a wink, "can I escort you to your carriage," he offered. Another tip from the Beauxbatons student.
Fleur smirked fully, her eyes roaming over him, "I suppose you may, though, it will be a very cold walk for you."
"With you close… I doubt that."
Her laughter lingered despite the snow that battered down over them.
Harry somehow wasn't cold in spite of his cavalier comment.
AN: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it really was a treat to write. As with any Harry/Fleur (Flowerpot) story the Yule Ball is of the utmost import, and I hope I could do it some justice. As always, if you wish to find more Flowerpot stories or just chat, I wholely recommend joining the Flowerpot discord server, the invite link is just Discord .gg / Flowerpot.