Chapter 26: Slughorn's Christmas Party

Days until Christmas: 6

The Weasley twins wandered back to their workroom, troubled expressions on their faces.

The cancelation of the Yule Ball had severely damaged their reputation. Many students blamed it on their love potions and demanded refunds for their orders. This week, the number of students attending their sale pop-ups had dwindled by half. They couldn't have that, not right before Christmas, when they should be making the bulk of their sales for the year.

Much of their unprotected stash of potions had been confiscated. This was expected, since it prevented the Headmistress from finding the rest of their product, hidden in a heavily warded room. Still, they were hurting from the loss, and Harry wasn't providing them with money or supplies.

They needed to do something, something big. They needed to get the students back on their side, no matter what the cost.

And then, at the same moment, they had an idea. They looked at each other and nodded.

It was time to get to work.


Hermione finished with Potions—her last class of the year—and did a silent cheer in the hallway. Then, she headed to the Bayesian Conspiracy classroom.

The room was empty and cold, which made Hermione feel sad. Normally, Harry would be wandering around, doing a bit of last minute research. She headed for the back, searching his bookshelves until she found what she was looking for. Carrying the musty tome, she took a seat at his desk, sinking into Harry's office chair—which was nice, he didn't skimp on chair comfort. She got out her fancy new quill—a Speed Writer 1000 with the Blue Tipped Feather—and got to work.

A few minutes later, Harry burst into the room, his glasses askew, muck all over his robes.

"Hermione," he gasped, collapsing against a desk. "Is there any particular reason why you have 'feeding hippogriffs' on your schedule three times a week?"

She stopped dictating, but her quill kept writing, set to practice cursive on a spare parchment. "Oh…umm, well Hagrid needed someone to help feed the herd, since he's getting a little old to run after them during meal times—"

"And that's another thing!" he gasped. "Every time I tried to feed them, they ran away. Tell me, what's the evolutionary advantage in fleeing every time someone offers you food?"

Hermione smiled. "You're supposed to chase them—it's one of their favourite games." Harry managed to look both confused and offended. "Anyway, Hagrid asked me for help and I said yes." She'd never admit it, but she wondered if part of the reason was because she enjoyed frolicking.

Harry, who had straightened his glasses and cleaned his robes, was giving her an odd look. "You know, there's a word in the English language that we use in those kinds of situations. It's 'no.' No, I would not like to help feed Hippogriffs, I have cats that need saving from trees." He shook his head. "Not to mention, that sort of work is incredibly draining. Flying after them left me magically and physically exhausted, and I imagine your speed ability does something similar to you. You should save your magic for when you need it."

She sighed. He was right. "I'll take it off the schedule." For now.

He nodded, then approached the desk. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"I'm translating these French spells to English, to say thank you for helping me." He'd been asking about it for a while, and she figured it was the least she could do.

"Oh," said Harry, watching her quill scribble cursive on a scratch piece of paper. "Thanks."

"You know," said Hermione playfully. "Maybe if you keep helping me, I'll even translate your Roger Bacon diary for you."

"That's okay, I already attempted that," he said, shrugging. "But the book defies translation. I mean, it literally scrambles every single one of my attempts, and I assume there's a charm on it, but…anyway." He waved his hand. "Thank you for the offer, but I will, of course, continue helping you for free."

She felt his presence as he hovered over her shoulder, then watched him pace back to the bookshelf, flipping through a book at random. She found her eyes drawn to the way the pale light brought out red tones in his hair, and wondered at how—in spite of their busy schedules—he always found a way to be by her side.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione mustered up a bit of courage and asked, "Do you want to go with me to Slughorn's party?"

He paused his reading, slowly closed the book. "Err…I thought we decided not to."

"I know, but Slughorn came to me today and said something about a giant chocolate fountain. Also, he suggested he would give us extra favours, the usual." She smiled hesitantly. "There's even going to be a live band. I don't know, I think it might be fun."

Harry rubbed the back of his head, and averted his eyes to the window. Hermione sighed, releasing the small bit of hope that had kindled inside her.

"That's okay," she said. "You don't have to go. I'll be fine by myself."

"Yeah, umm…okay. Sorry, I just don't like dancing." Harry shifted his feet. "But we should do something together over Christmas break."

Hermione grimaced. "I think that would be fun, but you know my parents still don't like you." It would take some convincing to let her parents give up family time to go out with Harry, especially since they would assume it was a date. She could already see her father getting out the dental drill.

"Yeah…okay," he said, shrugging. "Then don't worry about it."


Days until Christmas: 5

Wednesday, 9:00 pm

Harry Potter sat on the floor of his trunk, folding his laundry to pack for Christmas break. Out of his dorm mates, he was the only one in dorms. The rest of the Ravenclaw boys were in the common room or Hogsmeade, enjoying their last night with friends.

Harry didn't think of himself as a boring person. He would have enjoyed a get-together if his friends invited him. He simply didn't want to go to a party with people he didn't like, and a host he could barely tolerate. He certainly didn't want to go if people were going to treat it like the Yule Ball and expect him to dance. Or worse, scream rabidly while the live band played Weird Sisters songs.

And yet…

Hermione and all his classmates were at parties, and he was alone in his room folding slacks.

He picked up a sweater, but didn't fold it. He wondered if she was having fun. Neville and Cho Chang were going, but what about the other guests? Did Hermione have anyone to talk to, or was she just sitting alone in the corner?

Setting the sweater aside, Harry stood up and looked in his drawer for dress robes. She would be surprised to see him, and maybe happy he'd changed his mind. Instead of dancing, they could spend the evening talking and eating chocolate covered treats. Though, if they started playing Weird Sisters, he was going to leave.

Happy with his decision, Harry got changed and went downstairs, passing his dorm mates having a heated conversation. He walked the five minutes it took to make it from Ravenclaw to Slytherin, and found the meeting room for the Slughorn's meetings.

It was empty.

Confused, Harry checked the invitation, and discovered that the party was being held in an undisclosed location. He had to arrive here for check in before 8:00 pm.

Fortunately, Harry had only used the time turner once that day. He pulled the little sphere out from under his robes, walked into a shaded alcove, and turned back time by 2 hours.


Wednesday, 7:00 pm

When Harry returned to the meeting room, he found a crowd of people waiting in line to get in. At his turn, Harry entered to see a house elf checking invitations. Harry showed his, and the elf took his hand and apparated him to a coat check room. "Leave your over things here, if you want," said a server, wearing a maroon suit. "It's warm in the dining hall."

Harry opened the door to find a massive ballroom, almost as large as the Great Hall, whose vaulted ceiling imitated a quiet snowfall at night. From the windows, it appeared they were in a Hogwarts tower, a mysterious one that he had never seen from the outside. Rich green and silver tones dominated the colour scheme, and Harry vaguely registered that the decorations showed an impressive display of magic. He might have paid better attention, but there was a problem.

There was no sign of Hermione. He tried calling her on the Auror mirror, but she didn't answer. He looked over the heads of the students, searching for brown, curly hair, when Hannah Abbott approached him.

"Hi, Harry. Looking for someone?" she asked.

"Yes, Hermione Granger. Did you see her?"

"She was here earlier," said Hannah. "But she left with Boris Krum about fifteen minutes ago."

"What?" asked Harry, thinking he'd misheard. "Where did she go?"

Hannah pointed to a door on the opposite side of the room. "There's a stairwell that leads to a higher point in the tower. I don't know what's up there, though. Cho went and she's still not back yet."

Harry was struggling to reassure this brain that everything was alright. If Boris even tried to touch her, Hermione would break his hand and his face. Even so, Harry's knee jerk reaction was to turn back time and prevent her from going.

Unfortunately, he wasn't sure how to do that without causing a paradox. People had seen her leave with Boris, so he couldn't stop that from happening. It might work if he waited until just after she left, and then followed behind and punched Boris in the face. There didn't seem to be much benefit to having a sworn enemy if he couldn't get away with that.

A terrified scream tore through the room, silencing the music. A girl fell out of the stairwell, clutching her chest. "Somebody help! There's—"

In a snap decision, Harry immediately did three things.

1) He cast a silencing charm, muting the sounds around him.

2) Made himself invisible.

3) Turned back time by 30 minutes.


Wednesday, 6:40 pm

Harry blinked as the world around him finished rewinding itself.

He was surprised that had worked. The key to his successful jump was probably that he didn't know why the girl screamed, which was why he'd cast the silencing charm in the first place. Paradoxically, the less information he had, the more likely he would be able to prevent it from happening.

…Of course, if he did fix the problem, whatever it was, the girl wouldn't have screamed. He tried to remember her face, in case he needed to bribe her into doing it again to preserve the time loop. Come to think of it, maybe he could have memory charmed Hannah Abbott to tell him Hermione went up the stairwell, when she really didn't—

Harry spotted a girl with curly brown hair stepping through the doorway, Boris following behind her. His target acquired, invisible Harry slipped through the crowd of students, ducking around servers and guests. Then, without waiting for someone visible to help him, Harry opened the door and followed them.

Hermione stepped carefully up the spiral stairwell, which was so narrow and low that it seemed to be designed for children. Boris had to scrunch down just to fit. Reaching the open air was a relief, and she walked to the very edge of the balcony, her hands bracing against the icy railing.

Before her stretched the grounds of Hogwarts, covered in 4 inches of snow that glittered in the moonlight. To her right, the frozen black lake sprawled off into the distance. She'd read once that snow absorbed sound, which was why the world always seemed so quiet after a snowfall. Even the other people on the roof spoke softly, as if respecting the silence.

Boris came to stand beside her, leaning against the railing on his elbows. When Hermione ran into him at the party, he'd been hunched over in a chair and sipping punch, looking more depressed than she'd ever seen him. He'd asked to speak with her, suggesting they meet on the balcony.

Hermione turned and studied him. He had a faraway look in his eyes as he gazed at the moon. She thought to reach out and touch his shoulder, but it occurred to her that everyone on this balcony was a couple, and that made it weird. He was her classmate, though, as well as her student, and she wanted to help him. Things had been awkward between them at first, but he wasn't a bad guy. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Boris shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not happy about it, but I can't change the past."

"What happened?"

In that same tired voice, Boris said, "Ginny dumped me. She already has a new boyfriend."

I knew it wouldn't last! thought Hermione. She couldn't say that, though, it would just hurt him. "I'm sorry."

Boris leaned forward on the railing. "It was meant to end. I am not sorry." He was silent for a moment, gazing at the dark sky. "The stars are beautiful tonight. It is like the sky over my home in Bulgaria. Those thousands of lights brighten the whole world. It makes me feel like I am not alone."

Hermione thought she heard someone snort behind her. She turned to look, but there was no one.

She turned back to see Boris was rubbing his forehead, looking agitated. Hermione said softly, "That's beautiful. Whenever I miss my parents, I like looking at the moon, since I know they can see it too."

Boris smiled. "I always think of my brothers. Did I tell you about the time Victor challenged me to a duel?"

Hermione shook her head, and Boris continued, "Well, my brother always used to beat me at Quidditch, and then one day I got angry. So I gave him a special treat called Crunchy Frog." He paused. "Do you know what Crunchy Frog is?" She didn't. "It's just like a chocolate frog, but inside is a raw, dead, baby frog."

Hermione flinched away from him. "Eww! Why?"

Boris grinned darkly. "My brother said it tasted bad, so I told him it was English food." Hermione rolled her eyes, and he laughed. "Later, once my brother got out of the bathroom, he challenged me to a duel."

Boris went on to describe the duel, and Hermione was surprised at how funny he was. He was usually so quiet during their lessons, she'd just assumed he was the stoic, silent type. By the time he finished his story, Hermione was crying with laughter. "You boys are so crazy! I bet you have a lot of good stories."

"I do," said Boris, smiling. "I will tell you more of them sometime."

"I'd like that," said Hermione, turning to look out at the frozen lake. A few students were out late, walking in the snow, but from here she couldn't tell who they were. Hermione was distracted by Boris's gaze, which was still focused on her.

"Do you like to ski?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Hermione. "My family makes a ski trip every other year."

"I am going to a ski lodge with my friends over Christmas vacation. We will stay in a chateau in the Pyrenees, at my favourite resort. I host a party every year, as a gift to my friends. Will you join us?"

Hermione blinked in surprise, then shook her head. "It's nice of you to offer, but I can't go."

His face fell, his brow knitting in confusion. "Why? Do you have other plans?"

Hermione shifted her feet, averting her eyes. "It's not that, but…" She wanted to make an excuse, like her parents wouldn't let her go, but that didn't seem fair to him. "I don't know you that well, Boris, or your friends. I wouldn't feel comfortable."

"I see," said Boris. "Then, I hope we can learn more about each other this year. We can become better friends." His voice softened, turned into a question. "Perhaps then, over the summer, you could visit me?"

"I—umm…" Hermione bit her lip, feeling guilty. "Boris, I can be your friend, but I don't want to date."

He looked so crestfallen that it sent a pang through her heart. Part of her wondered if she had been too quick to turn him down. She could see herself sitting on his porch, laughing at Boris and his brothers' antics. She'd never had siblings before, and his family seemed like fun.

Boris sighed, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. His voice came out strained. "I know. I am sorry, but I don't know what to do. You have captivated me." His gaze studied her intensely, making her shiver. "You are so intelligent, and so strong. So beautiful." His hand reached up, caressing her cheek. She flinched, but didn't move away. "When you kissed me at the concert…"

Hermione had suspected for a long time that it was him, so that wasn't the surprise. But she didn't think she'd been so drunk that she had forgotten the other important detail.

"I kissed you?" said Hermione, blushing. "But I thought you kissed me."

Boris chuckled. "That's not how I remember it."

His rough hand cupped her chin, his other hand glided around her back. Hermione tried to remember if this felt familiar, but all she could feel was her heart beating very fast.

"I knew then," murmured Boris. "That there was something different about you. And I wanted more. Is there…some part of you that feels it too?"

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it, her gaze falling to his lips. "Maybe," she said softly.

He had been her first real kiss. It should have been special, but it was only a half-forgotten memory with a stranger. And yet, he'd come back for her. He'd waited, nervous to talk to her, then sad when she turned him down, but he'd never stopped liking her. She'd pushed him away because she didn't think she could be serious with him, but maybe she was wrong. He might be able to make her happy, if she just gave it a chance.

Boris leaned down to kiss her, and she closed her eyes.

He gripped her neck forcefully, his lips smashing into hers all wrong. It was uncomfortable, greedy, and aggressive. She froze, her mind anxiously hoping the kiss would change, but realizing it wouldn't. She pushed him away, gently, then a little harder. He wrapped his arm tighter, as if he thought she was enjoying it. Hermione started getting irritated. She didn't want to accidentally knock him off the balcony with her super strength, but she would if she had to. One more push, hard enough he should have moved away, but he didn't—and she was starting to get scared.

Suddenly, with a startled cry, he stumbled back into the railing, covering his nose. He stared at Hermione wide eyed. "What did you do?"

Grimacing, she wiped his spit off her lips, wishing she could erase the last 10 seconds. "Nothing. What's wrong with you? You were like an animal!"

His eyes narrowed, and he pulled his hands off his face to reveal a bloody nose. He whispered a word she didn't know, but she could guess. He jerked again, pawing at his eyes, and screamed, "Stop, you bitch!"

"Boris?" asked Hermione, starting to worry she had bewitched him somehow. "Are you alright?"

There was terrible screeching sound that made Hermione's hair stand on end. A blonde girl screamed and ran downstairs, her boyfriend following. Everyone else ran for the ledge and stared at the lake, eyes filling with horror and excitement.

"I don't believe it!" someone cried. "That's the Weasley twins, and that giant glowing monster is trying to eat them!"