AN - Apologies for the delay getting this out to you fine folks. Thank you for your thoughtful comments and I hope you all enjoy!
Brad tried to make sense of the shifting, shadowy creature that was moving down the entrance hall. He needed to catch up to it, it was important. He couldn't remember why, but letting...whatever it was...escape, that wasn't an option.
"Hold up!" he shouted, jogging after it. The hall seemed to stretch and it took him forever to reach the corner that his objective had turned around. He saw the tail end of the cloak as it rounded the corner of a tent. Bringing his rifle to low-ready, he looked around himself.
All around him was a maze of tents, many of them burning and billowing thick smoke. He heard a soft cry and looked up to the source. A toddler spinning in the sky. Motherfucker. The adrenaline spike was almost painful and he rushed forward, rounding the tent so he would be directly beneath the child. Yet, when he looked up, the child was still too far away.
"Why aren't you helping me?" The weeping child's voice sounded like it was right in his ear and it chilled him to the core.
"I'm trying!" Brad shouted. He ran through tents, glancing up. Every time he thought he was closer the spinning child was further away. "I'm coming!"
He burst out into an opening and there was a lone figure in a chrome mask standing underneath the helpless kid, his wand pointing straight up. Brad shouldered the rifle, aiming for center of mass.
"You can't save him," a gruff voice whispered in his ear. He glanced sideways. It was Professor Moody, only something was wrong. His dark face was twisted...evil.
"Bullshit," Brad muttered. He turned back to the sight and the Death Eater was standing directly in front of him now. Brad pulled the trigger. Click. The magazine was empty.
"HE'S MINE!" Moody roared in his ear. Brad looked up at the child, who was falling down toward him. Brad dropped his rifle, raising his arms in an attempt to catch the falling boy, who screamed at him in fright.
Brad bolted upright at the shout, yanking the handgun from beneath his pillow and looking around him for a target. Harry was sitting up as well, a small figure on his lap.
"Dobby!" Harry shouted, exasperated.
"I'm sorry if I scared the young master!" the elf squeaked. Brad let his head hang for a moment, sliding the handgun back under the pillow. His hands were shaking with the rush of adrenaline as he rubbed his face, trying to erase the images that his mind had conjured for him in the night.
He slid out of bed as Dobby practically begged to give Harry his present. That was right, today was Christmas. Harry unwrapped a pair of socks, one green and the other red. There were crude figures of broomsticks and golden snitches printed across them.
"Thanks, Dobby!" Harry said, pulling the socks on.
"I've been working on them for a while, spending my work earnings!" Dobby was obviously proud of earning money for himself. Brad mused that Hermione would be proud, too.
"Let's head down to the common room!" Seamus called out, jumping down the stairs. Ron and Harry both gave Dobby a pair of socks and a sweater, which Dobby clutched onto like treasure.
"I have to go," Dobby said sadly as everyone else was getting ready to head downstairs. "We're already getting started on cooking tonight's feast." With one last satisfied look at the custom socks on Harry's feet, Dobby disappeared with a soft crack.
"Easy to please, that one," Ron pointed out as everyone shuffled downstairs. Brad stayed quiet. He was still having a hard time shaking the dream and he didn't want to call attention to himself.
Downstairs, Hermione was holding her hair up as Mike fastened a small, glinting necklace. Her cheeks were red as she smiled widely. Brad propped himself against a wall, watching as gifts were exchanged. Gradually, the scene pulled him from his thoughts and he found himself smiling along with everyone else.
"It snowed last night, you know?" Angelina Johnson said. "I saw it out the window."
"We ought to head outside!" someone else called out. It wasn't long before everyone agreed that they shouldn't remain cooped up inside.
"It'd be a shame to waste such a fine example of a Christmas morning," Brad agreed. He was feeling a lot better about the morning now and didn't intend to waste the day thinking about bad dreams. He pulled his multi-cam coat on and once everyone was suitably dressed, headed outside with the crowd.
"You were quiet this morning," Harry said. He was walking alongside Brad near the rear of the Gryffindor exodus. Hermione and Mike were leading the group, walking arm in arm.
"Just a dream," Brad admitted, seeing no reason to lie. Not eager to reopen that particular can of worms, he quickly followed it up with, "Nothing a little snow can't fix right up."
Outside the grounds were white in largely undisturbed snow. There were small paths leading to the Beauxbatons carriage and the Durmstrang vessel, along with a perimeter path from one of the roving patrols. Aside from that, no one had been out yet.
The group meandered out into the snow, breaking into smaller groups of friends. He and Harry walked together a short distance, letting the others get ahead of them. They didn't say anything in particular, just walked. Brad was just about to open his mouth to ask how comfortable those socks were when a snowball pelted him in the back of the head. He whirled back to see Mike trudging away in high steps as he tried not to trip over stones and branches that were obscured by the snow, laughing hysterically.
"Oh, you're on!" Brad called out. He stooped down, grabbing a fistful of snow and compacting it down. He threw the snowball hard and pegged Mike square in the back. Mike, who had just reached Hermione, threw his arms up dramatically and fell forward and rolled to his back.
"I'm hit!" he called out. Hermione giggled and Mike held a shaking hand up to her. She grabbed it and knelt by his side. "Tell my girl I fought hard," he said weakly. She rolled her eyes and laughed as another snowball caught Mike in the face, this time launched by Jason.
Mike sat upright quickly, shaking the snow from his face. "That's it!" he cried out. "It's war!" Hermione helped him up and they both began gathering snow, as did everyone around them.
Brad watched the scene for a moment as snowballs began to fly from every direction. He saw heads poking out of the Beauxbatons carriage, no doubt curious about the commotion.
Another snowball hit Brad, this time in the shoulder. It knocked him out of his thoughts and he grabbed more snow to join the fight.
Soon, boys and girls from the Beauxbatons cabin were darting out, joining the fight. Brad and Harry were running toward one of the small walls of snow that had been hastily built for cover. They dove behind it and Brad caught a face full of snow.
"Mon Dieu," a familiar voice said softly. "Are you alright?" Brad picked his face out of the snow, seeing Fleur and Clara were also hiding behind the wall.
"I'm good," he said, pushing himself up and crouching behind the wall. "Merry Christmas." He pulled up another fistful of snow, packing it into a ball.
"They're coming!" Harry said as he ducked back under cover as a snowball whipped past. Mike and Hermione had turned out to be quite a combination in the heat of battle and were chasing Brad and Harry across the battlefield.
"We pop out on three and hit em," Brad said, quickly gathering more snow for his munitions. He glanced at Fleur and Clara and smiled when he saw them joining him in defense of the little fortification. "One, two, three!"
The four of them popped out of cover just in time to see Mike jump in front of Hermione to take the hits. Hermione was waving her wand behind him and Brad's jaw dropped as what had to be twenty balls of snow lifted from the ground and darted at them.
They dove for the cover of their snow wall, but Harry and Clara were too late. They hesitated and were peppered with the snowballs, which turned out to be much softer than they looked. The four of them laughed and Brad poked his head from cover.
"Magic isn't fair fighting!" he called out, gathering more snow for the coming fight.
"All's fair in love and war, brother!" Mike replied.
The battle continued well into the evening, rife with betrayal and team switching. Brad hadn't had that much fun in a very long time. Soon, though, the girls were all disappearing. It wasn't long before Hermione had left the battle as well, saying she needed to ready herself for the ball. As more and more people disappeared, the battle fished, everyone feeling like the victor.
Brad was sitting on a small log with Harry and Mike when he saw Colonel Sumner in full dress uniform walking toward the castle.
"Be right back," he said, darting after the colonel. "Colonel!" he called out as he closed the distance. Sumner stopped and turned, allowing the operator to catch up.
"Captain," Sumner acknowledged Brad as he arrived.
"Sir, I was wondering if there were any patrols or anything you need me for tonight," Brad said.
"You're otherwise engaged," Sumner replied, looking directly at Brad.
"It's just a dance, sir. They can spare me." It sounded lamer out loud than he'd thought it would.
"What is your current assignment, Captain?" Sumner asked. Brad hesitated to answer, feeling like this was a trap. He couldn't stall forever though.
"I'm assigned to compete as a Triwizard champion, sir," Brad answered.
"Then I expect you to fulfill your duties to the fullest extent of your ability, Captain. Is that clear?" Sumner didn't wait for an answer, turning and heading inside. So much for getting out of the dance. He wasn't looking forward to opening a dance, nor was he looking forward to being the fool that showed up without a date. With a huff of exasperation, Brad headed to the Gryffindor common room, where his Class A uniform was waiting.
Brad chewed the inside of his lip uncomfortably, standing in a room just off of the entrance hall with most of the other champions and their dates. His Class A uniform was a bit stiff, having never been worn before now. It was in top shape, the buttons were mirror shiny and his very few ribbons were in a neat row just where they should be. You didn't get many citations in a unit that didn't exist.
Victor Krum was standing with his date, a girl from Hufflepuff that Brad had seen before but didn't know by name. He thought it started with an H. They both talked softly together about something while Cedric Diggory's date, Cho Chang, made some final adjustments to his dress robes. Brad only knew her from talking to Harry, who he suspected had a crush on her.
Fleur and Roger Davies hadn't shown up yet. Brad's mind kept wandering to what they could be up to and he quickly had to remind himself that he didn't care. It wasn't his business.
Time passed slowly as he waited until, finally, he heard the clicking of shoes on the hall floor outside getting louder as someone approached. The door opened and in walked Professor McGonagall. She was dressed in red tartan robes with her hair done up. Still, dressed as she was for a night of dancing, she managed to look both concerned and mildly irritated at the same time. He was still wondering how she pulled that off when she spoke.
"We seem to be missing some people," she observed. "Captain, where is your date?"
"Ma'am, I don't have one." What else was there to say about it?
"Surely someone told you that the champions are opening the ball with a dance." She knew full well that someone had told him, because that someone had been her.
"Yes ma'am, I am aware," Brad replied.
"Well, are you certain there is no one?" she asked him, raising an eyebrow. One final chance to wrangle himself a date. But how the hell was he going to do that?
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Very well," she flattened her robes. "I will open the ball with you." Brad closed his eyes a moment, silently cursing himself for not taking his myriad of opportunities to try and get a date. Suddenly it didn't seem as big a deal, not compared to an opening dance with...well, an old lady. The teams were going to get a kick out of that.
The door opened again and Fleur slipped in alone, looking distressed, which he didn't like. She looked gorgeous and he hated to see her in distress of any kind. She was wearing a silken, silver-gray dress that hugged her body, managing to be seductive and modest all at once, with an almost glowing blue trim. Her silvery hair was done up in an elegant bun at the back of her head, held in place by what looked like ice sickles, though they weren't melting. She wore a thin, delicate necklace that drew his attention to her beautiful neck, which until this point was not something he'd ever considered a point of beauty.
"Bon sang," she muttered, her cheeks flushed as she looked at McGonagall. She handed a paper to the professor, who took it and read it down her nose.
"Mr. Davies has decided not to join us, it seems," she said tightly. Brad wondered what in the heck he could be thinking. She crossed her arms and it gave Brad a view of the note.
I don't know what I was thinking, I can't even dance. Have fun, Roger
His first thought was that Roger was a pansy, chickening out on Fleur because he couldn't dance. With a start, he realized that's almost exactly what he himself had just done. Brad had never danced before and he'd spent this whole time trying to get out of it instead of preparing himself for it.
"Well, that settles that. Since you, Fleur, no longer have a date and the Captain here never got one, you two will go together." Brad was pulled from his thoughts headlong by her words. She pushed them together and Fleur slipped her arm into Brad's. He hoped she couldn't hear his heart trying to rip its way out of his chest as he caught her unique, pleasant, scent.
They stood there, arm in arm behind the two other couples for a moment as Professor McGonagall instructed them on when to head out. "You did not get a date?" she asked him quietly, turning to look at him questioningly.
"I didn't try to, no," Brad admitted. He shrugged his shoulders. "Chickened out, I guess." He figured it was better to own his mistakes, that way they didn't hold a power over him.
"I see," she replied. Brad had a thought just then and decided to act on it rather than continue his pattern of hesitation. He turned to face her, momentarily pausing as he took in her beauty once again. She released his arm and began to fidget with her fingers, looking at him with a confused look.
"Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?" he asked. A half-smile formed on her lips. She tilted her head to the side with a playful smile that he'd stare into forever if she let him.
"You're not a chicken anymore?" she asked, still smiling and twirling her fingers. Brad almost didn't answer her, lost in the scene. He quickly found his way back though.
"Not anymore," he matched her smile. "Will you be my date?" he asked again, almost stumbling on the word date. She reached out and grabbed his hand, her fingers warm and soft, and pulled him a little closer. As she wrapped her arm in his and they resumed their positions, side by side, she replied.
"Oui," she said. "I would love to." Brad smiled. It was then that the doors opened. Cedric and Cho began walking, followed after a few moments by Krum and his date, whose name he still couldn't remember. They waited a few beats and began walking.
In the back of his mind, his old thoughts resumed. About deployment schedules and the potential for heartache. Those thoughts were quickly overwhelmed by the excitement he felt while Fleur held his arm and they walked into the Great Hall.
It had been redecorated for the ball. The walls were coated in a layer of frost, though the room felt plenty warm, and the large tables were gone, having been replaced by lantern-lit circular tables scattered around the perimeter of the Great Hall. The center of the large room was wide open, undoubtedly the dance floor.
They walked out and onto the dance floor, a sense of foreboding beginning to flood Brad. He was thrilled to be here with Fleur, he couldn't deny that from himself. He was, however, beginning to understand what Roger Davies had been thinking. Brad hadn't danced a day in his life and here he was with this stunning, amazing woman. He was going to embarrass the hell out of himself.
Cedric and Cho reached the center of the dance floor first and turned to face each other. Then Krum and What's-Her-Face. Much before he was ready for it, they arrived too.
Fleur let her arm slip away from his and she turned to face him. He followed suit and saw her deep blue eyes appraising his uniform, before she looked up into his eyes.
"You look stunning," he said, having already appreciated the view. She smiled widely, showing a row of perfect teeth and he couldn't help but smile back. She held a hand up and he felt her pluck at the row of ribbons on his chest before her other hand came to rest on his waist.
"And you are very 'andsome," she replied. It made his heart skip a beat. She raised an eyebrow and he realized he still hadn't taken hold of her.
He hesitated only a moment longer, then placed a hand on her hip, the other in her open hand. Touching her was electric and even though he had no idea how to dance, he knew he was going to figure it the hell out. Letting her down was not an option.
Music started and Brad stepped to the side with her. She allowed herself to be lead as he stepped from one side to another, turning gently in smooth circles with her. He made sure his hand stayed planted on her hip and didn't go anywhere else. He didn't want her to think he was getting any ideas.
As the music got quicker and he felt bolder he started to feel like he'd mastered this simple dance. He released her hip and raised her hand above her head, leading her in a twirl and catching her. She was beaming when he caught her and they resumed their simple dance, albeit at a slightly quicker pace.
While they danced, other couples joined them on the dance floor. While everyone enjoyed themselves, there was a subtle change, a scarcely researched effect of Veela nature, that went unnoticed by Brad and Fleur, consumed as they were in their own little world. The couples dancing around them were just a little more energetic, enjoyed themselves just a little more, than those dancing elsewhere.
And for those who didn't dance but watched, they inevitably found themselves drawn to the scene of Brad and Fleur, who graduated into more twirls and spins as they gained confidence and familiarity. There was an unmistakable, pure joy on both of their faces that others found infectious.
Mike looked down at his watch. The dancing had started a couple of minutes prior and Mike had been stunned to see his temporarily-former commander dancing with that hot French girl. He felt like he knew Brad pretty damn well and he'd been certain that the guy had no idea how to dance and no motivation to change that. He was glad for it though, they appeared to be enjoying themselves.
He was, on the other hand, stressing out. Last he'd heard, Hermione was in the girls' dormitory getting ready. Angelina came down the stairs with a conspiratorial look and told him to wait for her in the Great Hall, that she'd be down any moment.
Well, here he was and so far there had been no sign of his girlfriend. She'd been up there for hours getting ready and he was starting to wonder if he needed to go check on her. Another glance at the entrance hall as someone entered. Another girl who appeared dateless. Where the hell was she?
He took a few steps toward the Entrance Hall, his mind made up to go check on her, when someone caught his hand. He shot a look behind him, seeing the girl that had just entered. His mouth opened but the words were lost on him. It was Hermione!
"Hey, soldier," she said, smiling. Her hair, which she normally allowed to remain bushy, was sleek and wrapped in an intricate bun. She was wearing a powder blue dress that accentuated her hips and she was wearing the necklace he'd given her this morning. The biggest thing was that she had a wonderfully confident look in her eye, as though she knew she was the prize of this ball.
"Hey, yourself," he grinned, his eyes taking in the beauty before him. That was as much reaction as he could muster for the moment, his mind still trying to process the tremendous beauty of his girlfriend.
"What do you think?" She twirled, the dress lifting away from her knees and wrapping back around her legs as she came to a sudden stop, facing him with a confident grin.
"I don't know where to start," Mike replied honestly. His eyes said it all, though. She'd become adept at reading people, in addition to books. In his eyes she could see everything he didn't have words for and it was exactly the reaction she'd been daydreaming of. He grabbed her hands, pulling her close for a deep kiss. "You look amazing," he whispered as their lips broke contact.
"Jeezus," Jason's voice called from behind him, and he felt a smack against his shoulder. "Keep it PG you guys." Jason smiled at Hermione. "You look nice. Have fun you two." Jason headed off. He was helping with chaperone duty.
"Right," Hermione laughed, her cheeks flushed. She grabbed Mike's hand and pulled him toward the dance floor.
Brad looked over as Mike sat heavily next to him. He'd been sitting at one of the empty tables near the professor's area, watching the dance floor. Fleur had gone to "freshen up." Not a term he was familiar with, but he'd noticed that a number of girls had left their dates and come back, so he figured it wasn't something to be concerned with.
"Hot damn, bro," Mike said, giving Brad a mischievous look. "You scare her off or something?"
"You're one to talk," Brad replied, pointing out that Hermione was missing as well.
"She's just freshening up, you know?" Mike sat back against the chair stretching.
"What does that even mean?" Brad asked, genuinely curious. Mike bolted forward in his chair, looking at Brad seriously.
"I have no idea!" he said. They were both quiet for a moment, then laughed. "Women are so confusing."
"Four o'clock, they've made friends," Brad muttered, and their conversation about the perplexing nature of women was forgotten. Hermione and Fleur were walking together, smiling and talking together excitedly.
"Ladies," Mike said as they arrived at the table. He pulled a chair out for Hermione to sit in and Brad did the same for Fleur.
They ordered food, Hermione evidently the only one of the four who had paid attention when they were informed that they needed to speak to the plate about their desired meal. Hermione ordered something resembling a light thanksgiving meal while Mike didn't hesitate to order a thick burger and fries. Fleur ordered a French meal that Brad had never heard of before and Brad went simple; steak and potatoes.
The food was incredible and everyone tried everyone else's. Mike's french fries were a hit, seasoned as they were with a godly blend of herbs. Fleur had fun explaining that fries were not French. It seemed all too soon when the Great Hall began emptying. A glance at his watch revealed that it was very rapidly approaching midnight.
They stayed for a few minutes more, enjoying lighthearted conversation with one another. Knowing that all good things must end, however, they stood up and departed. Fleur and Brad broke off from Mike and Hermione, with Brad insisting that he would escort Fleur to her carriage.
As they stepped out of the Entrance Hall and onto the grounds, Fleur shivered slightly. The night had become cold. Brad quickly shucked his coat off, placing it around Fleur's shoulders.
"Thank you," she said, pulling the ends closer together as she smiled. They walked side by side for a few moments.
"I had a lot of fun tonight," Brad said. He hadn't planned on the ball being fun, but he'd enjoyed every minute of it.
"Me too," Fleur replied. "Thank you for asking me." They both laughed lightly.
"Better late than never." They walked silently, comfortably, for a few more moments until they reached the carriage.
"Thank you for a wonderful night." She gave his coat back and kissed him on the cheek, quickly turning into the carriage. Brad stood there for a few moments in the dark, unmoving. His cheek tingled pleasantly where her soft lips had met him and he smiled. It had been a damn good night.