Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 16
Accordingly with Daphne's request, or rather demand, Harry sneaked out to Hogsmeade one more time before the Ball. Having grown used to his hair's unusual unruliness and its own will, he decided to postpone getting a haircut until Christmas Eve. The other students were busy with their own preparations while the younger years prepared for returning to London, so no one bothered him for the entire Saturday.
Harry had no idea how time could pass by so quickly. He felt as if his first dancing lesson with Daphne happened only a day earlier, even though he was already standing in front of the mirror in the Boys' Dormitories, judging the outfit picked for him. She might have had a point, Harry commented as he examined his reflection.
It felt weird, for a lack of a better word, to wear clothes that weren't too big for him. At least it was weird in Harry's opinion. A crispy white shirt felt as if he wore a second skin, though it wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as he predicted it to be. A line of black buttons traveled down the middle of his torso, disappearing behind the belt that kept his suit trousers from falling down from his hips. Even though he purchased the most form-fitting suit available, additionally enhanced with a couple of charms that he didn't bother remembering, he still needed to wear a belt to keep the trousers in one place.
His pants were all black, just like the rest of his suit, without even the smallest trace of a faded color or some discoloration. The material, Harry had to admit, was incredibly soft, though, at the same time, it felt durable enough to survive a few hours, or even days, of dancing. Harry really hoped that was the case – he didn't want to be forced to get rid of this suit after only one night.
The legs of his trousers flowed easily down the length of his thighs and calves, stopping only a few millimeters above the ankles. There, a seamless transition occurred – trousers moved over, allowing only the tiniest part of his black socks to be visible, but even those had to surrender to a pair of patent leather shoes of the same color. Harry spent a dozen or so minutes during the day making sure that his shoes were in the best shape possible. The matt leather looked good in the light, but it didn't scream for attention like a gleaming leather would.
The black jacket rested comfortably on his shoulders and fit closely on his chest while at the same time leaving enough space for movement. The sleeves ended just above his wrist, allowing two or three centimeters of the shirt's cuffs to be visible.
The entirety of Harry's suit was accented by a simple yet elegant bowtie of the same color as the rest of his outfit. That last article of clothing was something that the young boy struggled the most with; it took him over half an hour to tie it before he deemed his efforts acceptable.
Harry ran his hand through his much shorter hair. It was still an odd sensation for him – the constant battle with hair that kept falling onto his face was over, though he doubted it would last long; his hair had a nasty habit of growing back seemingly instantly, usually when he was asleep. And while the hairdresser took quite a lot from the top of his head, there was enough length for his hair to maintain its usual unruliness; Luckily for him, the swelling of his scar has mostly faded away. The back and the sides of his head were cut, leaving only a few millimeters of hair. Harry ran his hand there once again, still getting used to the new feeling. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so much cold around his head.
Overall, Harry felt free to admit in front of himself that he looked good. His confidence in his appearance was additionally enhanced by the fact that Daphne was responsible for choosing his outfit. At least he didn't have to worry about embarrassing or disappointing her with his clothes.
Something that couldn't be said about Ron's appearance. If that was what traditional wizarding robes looked like, then Harry was extremely glad that Daphne made him buy that muggle suit. He seriously doubted there was a chance that someone managed to convince him to wear something like that.
Harry looked at the spot in the mirror where his former best friend's reflection was visible. A small part of his heart yearned to fix all the damages that their friendship suffered. After all, the youngest Weasley brother was the first person Harry dared to call a friend, and he and Hermione were by his side since the beginning of their life at Hogwarts.
That didn't stop them from abandoning me now, he reminded himself, silencing that small voice in his heart. Somehow, Harry doubted that their relationship would improve after the Ball. Listening to Ron's constant fussing about his robes with one ear, he could already imagine what he was going to tell him after seeing Harry and 'a bloody snake' as a pair during the Ball.
He checked his watch – it was fifteen minutes before eight o'clock. Except for the two of them, all other inhabitants of their Dormitory had already left to meet with their dates, and Harry decided that it was a time for him to leave as well. A small shiver ran down his spine as the opening dance approached, reminding him that the eyes of all three schools would be turned to him. Then again, when am I not in the spotlight? He attempted to comfort himself.
And so, showered, shaved, dressed, and sprayed with a cologne he purchased that day at Hogsmeade, Harry left the Boys' Dormitory, completely ignoring Ron's constant fussing. If the other boy wanted to be late, it was his business, not Harry's. He most certainly didn't want to start the Ball by being late and keeping Daphne waiting. He still remembered how his backside hurt when the Slytherin girl froze the floor beneath his feet. Harry certainly didn't desire a repeat performance.
"You know, the Ball starts any minute now; there is no need for you to be so mysterious anymore," Tracey broke the silence that accompanied the girls in the Slytherin Dormitories as they focused on perfecting their appearances and outfits. "Come on, spill out: who is your date?" she added, wiggling her eyebrows.
Daphne moved her gaze away from her own reflection to look at her friend, who occupied almost as much space in front of the mirror as she. Tracey was dressed in a plain pale-blue dress on thin straps that ended just below her knees. Her shoulder-length brown hair was let loose, though she spent a significant amount of time changing them from straight to curly; it suited her, in Daphne's opinion. Tracey's arms were crossed just beneath her bust, and, as she examined her friend's reflection in the mirror, Daphne deduced that she forgot, or simply ignored, to put on a bra. I'm sure Blaise will be happy, she commented in her mind.
Pansy snorted somewhere from the depths of their Dormitory. "As if anyone wanted to go with the Ice Bitch," she replied to Tracey's question. Perhaps I should tell her that Malfoy first asked me, Daphne thought, rolling her eyes. Nah. Let her live her dream. It will come back to bite her in the arse sooner or later, she reasoned with herself, carefully applying a thin layer of a pink balm to her lips.
"Sod off, Parkinson," Tracey replied without even turning around. "Go find Malfoy before he gets bored and starts bothering some other girl." Pansy huffed at that before storming off from the Dormitory, not gracing them with a response.
"Have you ever considered that Parkinson might be correct?" Daphne asked her friend when they were left alone. "I don't even know why you're so certain I have a date for today," she added. That's not entirely a lie.
Tracey rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't primp and preen like that if you didn't have a date," she countered; her lips curled up in a mischievous smile. "Are you going with Potter?"
Daphne stared at her friend's reflection in silence for a couple of seconds. "He asked Chang, just as I've expected," she replied after a moment, doing her best to prevent her lips from smirking. That also wasn't a lie. "As for your comment: is it a sin that I want to look… presentable tonight?"
Presentable was an understatement of the century, in Tracey's opinion. Only a blind person, or with no taste, would question Daphne Greengrass' natural beauty. There was a reason, after all, why the majority of Hogwarts' male population turned their heads after her when she was walking down the Castle's corridors. In Tracey's opinion, Daphne's face put into question the sense of make-up products' existence, however, her friend decided to break her habit that night. With precision worthy of a jeweler, Daphne applied a truly minimalistic layer of make-up that somehow didn't define her face's appearance, but rather enhanced its natural beauty. I wonder how many arguments amongst the couples she's going to cause tonight, Tracey wondered to herself, already imagining quite a few boys staring at Daphne for far too much time.
Daphne's blonde, and impossibly long hair, was neatly arranged into what Tracey could only describe as a messy chignon. A vast majority of her golden strands were focused at the back of her head, held in place with a couple of hairpins and, most probably, Stasis Charms. However, in a manner so unlike her, Daphne actually allowed a couple of strands to fall freely on both sides of her head, only further accentuating her face's beauty.
Tracey eyed her best friend's petite form with a small hint of jealousy in her gaze. It was no secret that Daphne was the slimmest one of the four Slytherin girls from their year, but that fact always remained at the back of everyone's mind when the school robes made everyone look identical. Well, that's going to change tonight, Tracey stated, observing Daphne's back.
An emerald green strapless gown that Daphne picked for that evening would undoubtedly mess with a lot of boys' heads. It fit the blonde so perfectly that it almost looked like a second skin, at least around the torso where it clung tightly to her body. While the gown's cut prevented anyone from glancing into Daphne's cleavage, her bare back, shown by a low, yet not provocative V-cut, made a not-so-subtle suggestion that the girl wasn't wearing anything beneath it.
The V-cut ended a few centimeters above Daphne's hips, allowing the gown to widen and flow freely down alongside the girl's long legs that were carefully hidden by the emerald green material. Only her feet, with a pair of black high heels that added a couple of inches to her height, were visible. However, if Tracey had to guess, she would say that Daphne's partner was going to be rewarded with the sight of her naked legs during a dance. The gown, after all, looked as if it wanted to swirl on its own.
"You look more than 'presentable,' Daphne," Tracey countered, leaning against one of the bedposts. "There's no way you'll be able to make me believe that you dressed like that only for your own satisfaction."
"I enjoy looking good once in a while," Daphne replied, once again dodging her friend's accusation. The blonde girl removed a pair of small earrings from a box on her nightstand. They were perfectly round, with the tiniest golden frame around the pitch-black stones. With well-practiced moves, Daphne clipped them to her ears, keeping them in place with two gold pieces. "And I'm certainly not doing it to impress a boy."
"You're impossible," Tracey sighed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Come on then, Ms. I-don't-have-a-date, I'm actually looking forward to the Ball and don't want to be late," she ordered, grabbing Daphne's forearm and nearly dragging her out from the Dormitories.
That was one thing Daphne hoped wouldn't have happened. She presumed that Tracey would be too excited about her date with Blaise to remember about her, which would give her a perfect opportunity to delay going to the Great Hall long enough for other students to be there already. She and Potter have actually done an extraordinarily good job in keeping a secret the fact that they were attending the Ball together. Perhaps she was a little dramatic, but Daphne wanted the secret to be revealed only when they would walk into the Great Hall.
However, her presumption hadn't stopped her from creating a plan B, so she allowed Tracey to drag her out of the Slytherin Common Room. The brown-haired witch failed to contain her excitement, especially when they met Blaise waiting for them, or rather for his date, at the stairs leading to the Dormitories. It wasn't a surprise for Daphne that Blaise didn't seem to be nervous at all. After all, he and his mother had very often attended the same social events as the Greengrasses, so something as trivial as a school ball certainly wouldn't make him lose his nerves.
Despite what she had told Harry, Daphne had to admit that Blaise had managed to pull off the traditional wizarding look quite well. The robes fit him well and seemed only to enhance his natural confidence. Or perhaps it was a mask of bored indifference that he, just like Daphne, had perfected over the years? The blonde Slytherin didn't bother herself with finding an answer to that question.
"I forgot my purse," Daphne announced when they reached the exit from the Dungeons. Her two friends stopped and turned around to look at her; Blaise with a slight annoyance and Tracey with the look that could only be translated as 'how dare you?' "Don't look at me like that; you dragged me out from the Dormitories," Daphne replied to the unspoken accusation, earning herself a heavy groan from Tracey.
"You have one minute to return and grab it," the other witch stated.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "You must have hit your head against something if you think I'm going to run in these," she protested, raising one of her feet to show her high heels. "Go, I'll catch up with you in the Great Hall," Daphne ordered, turning around without waiting for a response.
She only heard an echo of protesting Tracey before Blaise managed to drag her from the Dungeons. Daphne allowed her smirk to broaden slightly. Without even knowing it, the young boy helped her with her plan. She whispered the password and slipped into the Common Room.
It was empty if you didn't count in a couple of students from the younger years, who knew better than to bother the infamous Ice Queen, especially on the evening of the Ball. In less than a minute, Daphne reached her Dormitory and approached her bed, where she deliberately left her purse earlier that day.
Only to find it missing.
She frowned, scanning her mattress and the area around her bed with her eyes. Perhaps it fell off, she mused to herself.
"Are you looking for this?" a voice behind her back spoke, causing Daphne to turn around sharply.
There, in the shadows of the dimly-lit room, was standing her sister with her black purse hanging lazily from her finger. A smirk that could rival Daphne's was firmly placed on the youngest Greengrass' lips.
"Yes," she replied, walking towards her sister. She snatched the purse from her grasp without much of a struggle.
"You know, you might have lied to Tracey, but you can't lie to me," Astoria commented. "I know you're going with someone."
"Oh, really?" Daphne challenged, hanging the purse on her shoulder.
"You're too well-organized to simply forget your purse. I believe it was just your plan to make her leave you alone so you can meet with your date without interference and surprise everyone, including Tracey and Blaise, with whom you're going tonight."
Daphne would wonder how Astoria knew so many details if she wasn't in such a hurry. The Ball was about to start in ten minutes, and the Champions were surely gathered in front of the Great Hall by that time.
"Perhaps," she replied, walking towards the exit of the Dormitories. "Make sure you're packed before morning. I'm not going to help you with that after the Ball."
"Don't worry, sister, I've done that already," Astoria said to her retreating back. "Have fun and tell Potter I've said 'hi,'" she added; Daphne could swear she heard a small chuckle as she left the Dormitories.
With ten minutes left for the Ball to begin, Harry was already standing with the other Champions at the entrance to the Great Hall. Fleur was there with Roger Davies, a Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain who seemed unable to keep his eyes from the French girl's certain assets. Hannah Abbott, with a huge smile on her face, was wrapped around Cedric's arm. Krum was standing motionlessly at the wall, glancing at the stairs from time to time in anticipation. Harry looked around; there was no trace of Daphne.
It turned out that Viktor was waiting for none other than Hermione Granger. The wind was knocked out of Harry's lungs when he saw her. He had to admit that she looked absolutely stunning in her periwinkle gown and was positively beaming when Krum offered her his arm. She sent him a nervous smile and a hesitant wave of her hand as she passed him. Harry didn't find the strength to return it.
"Harry!" someone called out his name from behind his back, causing him to turn around once more to face the stairs.
Cho was standing there, or rather was walking towards him, and for the second time that evening, his breath got stuck in his throat. Her natural beauty reached new height thanks to her silver, practically white gown.
"Cho," he stammered out in greeting, correcting his glasses that became askew.
It was at that moment Professor McGonagall approached the four Champions and their dates, ordering them to form a line in front of the entrance. Harry's nervousness increased tenfold when she announced that the youngest Champion, which was him, was supposed to lead the others. Standing behind him were Cedric and Hannah, followed by Fleur and Roger; Viktor and Hermione were at the end of the line.
"Good, stand here and wait for our signal," Professor McGonagall instructed them, walking between the pairs to correct their stance and compliment their appearances. "Mr. Potter, is Ms. Chang your date?" she asked him when she returned to the front.
"Actually, Professor-"
"I am," Cho confirmed, grabbing his hand before he could finish whatever he was going to say. Harry turned his head to look at her in shock. Didn't she say that she agreed to go with someone else? He asked himself. Cho, however, didn't meet his gaze; her head was turned in the other direction, and her eyes were focused on something behind his back. Harry followed her line of sight, only to find Cedric standing a couple of steps behind him. She has her eyes set on Diggory, Daphne's words echoed in his mind.
"Good," McGonagall commented. "The Ball starts in two minutes, and-"
"I'm sorry, Professor, but Cho is not my date," Harry interjected, reluctantly removing his hand from Cho's grip. The Ravenclaw seeker chuckled slightly, though even in his ears, it sounded forced.
"You asked me, Harry, don't you remember?"
"I do, but you said that you were going with someone else."
"Well, there's been a… complication, and-"
"And I've asked someone else," Harry said before Cho managed to finish what she wanted to say and grab his hand once more.
"Then where is your date, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked with a poorly concealed hint of annoyance in her voice. "The Ball starts in a moment, and I don't see anyone here other than Ms. Chang."
"I'm sorry, Professor, I forgot my purse and had to return to the Dormitories to collect it," a female voice, coming from the general direction of the Dungeons, said suddenly. Harry turned around; having grown used to that voice over the course of the past few months, he could recognize it anywhere.
The reaction that Hermione's and Cho's appearances had on him paled in comparison to the one that Daphne caused. Harry wasn't blind – he was well aware that the Slytherin Ice Queen was considered to be the most beautiful witch in their year, if not at Hogwarts as a whole, but until that day, he didn't really focus on that.
Her dress was doing wonders to her beauty. It flowed down her body seemingly effortlessly, accentuating her gentle feminine curves in an elegant, yet non-provocative way. Her high heels added a few centimeters to her height, and she walked with such grace and ease, that she could could put professional models to shame.
The gentle make-up that she put on was simple yet much more elegant than the one Cho or Hermione were wearing. In fact, it was barely noticeable, unlike that one time when she arrived late to the Potions classes. In Harry's opinion, it suited her much better than the heavy one she applied that day. If he thought that his former friend, or his crush, looked beautiful then Daphne looked simply stunning. Harry had no doubts that she was going to win the unofficial contest for the prettiest girl at the Ball.
"Thank you for keeping company to my date," Daphne said to Cho in a falsely sweet voice. "I can handle it from here. Now, excuse me," she added, grabbing Harry's arm and taking the spot to his left that was occupied by the Ravenclaw Seeker.
Even through her make-up, Harry could see Cho's cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He could only watch helplessly as Cho slowly retreated from the line formed by the Champions and their dates and headed towards the Great Hall; her pace increasing with each step she took. He waved after her in sympathy, yet it went unnoticed by the Ravenclaw Seeker.
"All right then," Professor McGonagall said after recovering from her initial shock of seeing one of her cubs with a snake. "You are to enter the Hall when the door opens," she instructed the four pairs. "You look very lovely tonight, Ms. Greengrass."
"Thank you, Professor," Daphne replied, making a small curtsey. With that, Professor McGonagall disappeared into the Great Hall, leaving the four pairs waiting in anticipation.
"She was right, you know?" Harry whispered to her after a few seconds of collecting his thoughts. "You look… well, you look amazing."
Although Daphne's lips didn't move in the slightest, Harry could swear that he saw a shadow of a smile in her eyes as she looked at him.
"I know," she replied. "You cleaned up pretty nicely yourself, Potter. Shorter hair looks better on you, and I must say it's the second time tonight that you surprised me positively."
He frowned. "When was the first one?"
"When you refused Chang's offer," Daphne informed him. "I must admit that I thought you were going to stand me up; I'm rarely glad to be proven wrong."
"Well, I promised you something, didn't I?" Harry replied, attempting to lighten the tension with a nervous chuckle.
"So, you want to say that you would have done that if I didn't make that request?" Daphne challenged him with a raised eyebrow.
Harry was saved from answering by the doors opening, inviting the Champions inside, and signaling the beginning of the Ball. Daphne's question was left unanswered and forgotten.
"You ready?" Harry asked, breathing in nervously.
"I'm always ready to impress others," Daphne replied, her voice as calm as ever. However, the subtle increase in strength of her grip around his fingers signaled that the anticipation had its effects on her as well. "You?"
"I doubt I'll ever be," he replied, exhaling loudly.
With that, Harry and Daphne, followed by the other pairs, entered the Great Hall.
The large room was changed beyond recognition from its usual state. Gone were the long House Tables as well as the Staff Table, and there was no trace of stone anywhere in sight. Instead, the Hall was charmed to look like a kingdom of some snowy princess; ice sculptures of Gryphons were standing on the walls, which were covered with white veils, and the ceiling was charmed to have snow falling from it. However, before it could land on the floor, or the guests' heads, and create a mess, it faded away.
Three large Christmas trees, decorated with a variety of ornaments, tinsels, and lamps, were standing at the far end of the Hall, in place of the Staff Table. The thick branches were also covered with snow, leaving only the barest hint of green visible. Glancing around, Harry thought that the Hall surely had to be magically expanded; he didn't remember it ever being that huge.
A large wave of applause from other students as well as the teachers and a handful of ministry officials greeted the four pairs as they made their way into the Hall. However, the applause quickly died down, and all cheering stopped as more and more people recognized the pair at the front.
If you asked anyone at Hogwarts, you wouldn't be able to find a single soul, safe for Daphne's friend and sister, who would have suspected that the Gryffindor Golden Boy and the Slytherin Ice Queen would attend the Ball together; the mere thought was simply inconceivable.
Daphne had to actually put an effort to suppress her smirk from growing wider. While it was true that shock was the most dominant emotion on the students' faces, mixed with anger in more than a handful of cases, there was one more thing that she easily picked up. That one thing was written all over the faces of many boys and even more girls – jealousy.
The boys from her House were the largest group of Hogwarts' male population who failed to conceal their jealousy – those she simply refused to go with and those that were too afraid to ask her to the Ball.
However, the number of boys that were ogling her paled in comparison to the number of girls that were eyeing the young wizard next to her. The glim in their eyes was almost predatory, and Daphne didn't have to think long to find the cause of that. Even with his too-big clothes and too-long hair, Potter was still considered to be one of the most attractive boys in the entire school. His popularity amongst the girls was only escalated by the legend that was born because of his title as the boy-who-lived. Not to mention the mysteriousness caused by the fact that Potter simply refused to talk about himself and his past, and one could get a clear picture of why many girls found him so desirable.
That night, however, that effect was additionally escalated. Daphne was more than pleased to notice that he obeyed her… demand, and got a haircut. It seemed as if quite a handful of other girls agreed with her previous statement that it suited him better. Also, the suggestion she made when they were at Hogsmeade seemed to be spot-on. Potter wasn't the only one that appeared in the Hall in a muggle suit, as Daphne noticed while quickly scanning the crowd, but, at least in her opinion, he managed to pull it off much better than anyone else. And contrasted with a sea of boys dressed in traditional wizarding robes made him stand out from the crowd, drawing the attention of quite a few witches.
Although not a single muscle in her face as much as twitched, Daphne's smirk turned into a triumphant one. She didn't hesitate to send it to as many girls as she managed.
When she caught a glimpse of Tracey's face, filled with bewilderment, and perhaps a subtle trace of anger, Daphne raised one of her eyebrows in an almost challenging manner. Her best friend shook her head slowly, and even though Daphne couldn't hear her words, she could easily read 'I'm gonna kill you' from the movement of her lips. Blaise was only staring at her with a raised eyebrow; Daphne only shrugged.
After a few seconds, when the initial shock wore off, the applause resumed with full strength, initiated by someone from the Hogwarts Staff. That didn't lessen the angry glares directed at Daphne, though she paid them no mind. Get over it. He's mine tonight, she thought, allowing the left corner of her lips to rise subtly.
After what felt like forever, though in fact, was no longer than a minute, the four Champions and their dates reached the main table that was standing right in front of the three huge Christmas trees. Dinner was the first part of the Ball, followed quickly by the opening dance. Harry actually wished that that order was reversed; the anticipation was wreaking havoc on his nerves.
"We have caused quite a scene," he whispered to Daphne when they sat down. Luckily for him, the places weren't assigned, so he swiftly moved to the end of the table, trying to avoid being in the spotlight as much as possible; Daphne didn't seem to mind.
"True," she agreed, scanning a small menu card that was placed at every seat. "I couldn't care less, though, and neither should you. Someone has urged me tonight to have fun, and I intend to do just that. You would be wise to the same," she said, glancing at Harry. "I'm actually surprised you didn't faint back there – you were trembling," Daphne added.
Harry chuckled nervously upon hearing her statement. "Believe me, I was close to that," he replied, drying his palms against his trousers. "I thought we were supposed to come here as friends tonight," Harry continued after a few seconds of silence. "I didn't know I was your date," he added with another small chuckle.
Daphne rolled her eyes as she tapped her wand on a spot on the menu card. Instantly, a plate filled with a fish fillet and various kinds of vegetables appeared in front of her. "It was just an expression to make Chang leave you alone," she replied, slicing the meat into small pieces before placing one of them in her mouth. "Eat. You'll need strength on the dance floor, or you might actually faint."
Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure my stomach will handle it if I eat something right now. Maybe later," he replied, taking a sip of a punch. Despite the winter decorations, Harry could swear that he would go up in flames in a matter of minutes; the cold beverage somewhat eased his worries.
"Suit yourself."
Before he knew it, the dinner was over, and students started leaving the circular tables, placed all over the front of the Hall, and gathered in the middle of the large room, creating a space wide enough for the four pairs and their opening dance. Taking in a deep breath to steady his rapidly beating heart, Harry offered his hand to Daphne. The Slytherin girl accepted it gladly and allowed her partner to lead her to the dance floor.
Although they've never practiced the opening dance together, the four Champions and their dates seemed to find the right spots without the smallest problem, leaving enough space for the other pairs. With easiness that came to him only after countless hours of practice, Harry placed his right hand on the small of Daphne's back. His cheeks heated up slightly as he felt the naked skin beneath his fingers. His left hand rose up, seemingly on its own, and gently grabbed Daphne's palm. Once again, Harry was left to wonder how someone could have such delicate skin. His partner's left arm swiftly sneaked up his right arm and rested on his shoulder.
"Try not to step on my feet, Potter," Daphne whispered. "I doubt my shoes would survive it."
Harry looked at her as if she suddenly slapped him. "I haven't stepped on your feet in a week," he protested.
"That's because we haven't practiced in a week."
"We practiced two days ago," he hissed in contradiction, causing Daphne to roll her eyes.
"What's the point of telling you a joke, Potter, if you can't understand it?" she replied; her voice was practically dripping with sarcasm and annoyance. Once again, the young boy felt his cheeks heating up slightly in embarrassment. "Don't think about other people. Imagine we're still practicing in the Chamber."
Harry smiled sheepishly at her. "Well, the smell is certainly nicer," he replied, taking in a deep breath. His nose was instantly filled with a pleasant scent coming from his partner. Daphne's strawberry shampoo was there, as usual, but it was also mixed with a subtle yet intense aroma that Harry couldn't quite identify. Noticing two almost dry spots on her neck, he deduced that the smell had to come from her perfume.
"I agree," Daphne replied; the slight widening of her nostrils was the only indication that she took in a breath. "Though the odor in the Chamber stopped bothering me long ago."
"Why is that?"
"Air-freshening charm," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.
"And you couldn't cast that on me as well?" Harry asked in disbelief. Daphne shrugged her shoulders again.
"You never complained, so I figured it didn't bother you too much. Besides, I'm not Granger – I'm not going to do everything for you. Now, get ready. One…"
"Two…"
"Three," Daphne finished, just in time as the music started playing.
Just as during their numerous practices, Harry began by moving his right leg forward, placing it just between Daphne's feet. The girl in his arm took a step backward, easily gliding her left leg behind her, and the pair fell into a familiar routine. They glided forward and backward, forward and backward, while at the same time making sure to slowly rotate clockwise.
The music, played by an orchestra under the watchful eye of Professor Flitwick, made it much more simple for Harry to keep track of the familiar tempo. Following Daphne's advice turned out to be much easier than he thought. Harry did his best to maintain his gaze on the pretty girl in his arms, not that he had any problems with it; after all, Daphne was one of the most beautiful girls in the entire Castle. The rest faded into the background – the people around them, the Tournament, and Hall's decorations. For a split second, he could swear that he saw the walls of the Chamber of Secrets around them.
After making a full clockwise rotation, the tempo of the music increased, just as the pace of their dance. Instead of completing the circle in eight steps of moving forward and backward, they made another lap in only four steps. After returning to their starting positions, Harry dropped his hands to Daphne's hips. Using as much strength as he could muster and the momentum of their dance, he raised her into the air and rotated them swiftly. Daphne gripped his shoulders in support; the hem of her gown spiraled freely in accordance with their movements.
"Well done," she complimented him under her breath when Harry put her down on the floor and seamlessly resumed the dance.
"You have no idea how much I was afraid I was going to drop you," he replied, chuckling nervously as they continued swinging to the rhythm of the waltz. Harry removed his right hand from her shoulder and grabbed Daphne's fingers that he was holding with his left one. He raised it high enough for the girl to rotate beneath his arm; even with the additional height of her high heels, Daphne was still a few centimeters shorter than him.
"Consider yourself lucky that it didn't happen, then."
The dance floor was becoming more and more crowded as other students, following the example of their teachers, joined the four Champions. The other pairs quickly adapted to the tempo of the dance, resulting in a harmony of people moving in almost perfect synchronicity. Of course, there were a couple of students whose dancing abilities left a lot to be desired, but those were the odd exceptions.
From the corner of his eye, Harry caught a glimpse of Neville dancing with an unfamiliar blonde girl, dressed in a vibrant pink gown. That must be Luna, he deduced, recalling their conversation. A flash of red hair caught his attention, and as soon as he was in the right position to do so, he traced it to its source. He saw Ron and Ginny dancing together; neither looked to be happy with that outcome. His former best friend's face clearly showed that he wanted to be anywhere else than on the dance floor, and his sister seemed to be quite… disappointed with her brother's dancing abilities. Or rather, the lack of them.
Harry was in no position to judge him as he himself barely learned how to dance not so long ago, but even he could tell that Ron looked like a fish out of water. His movements were stiff and uncoordinated. A few times, when their eyes met, Harry could clearly see a furious expression on his face. Ginny seemed to be doing much better, though she was restricted by her brother's guidance. From time to time, he caught a glimpse of her staring at him with an expression Harry couldn't decipher.
Hermione, on the other hand, looked like she was enjoying the dance with the Bulgarian Seeker. Despite his impressive physique, Viktor seemed to be quite a talented dancer. His movements were confident and fluent, just as they were when he was on a broom.
The waltz ended; the last soft tune was accompanied by loud applause from the majority of students and teachers. Harry's attention quickly returned to the beauty in his arms, and he could swear that he saw a glim of happiness in Daphne's eyes.
"I trained you well," she commented, making a small curtsey to show her gratitude for the dance. Harry grinned broadly. The opening dance wasn't nearly as frightening as he thought it might be.
"I'm happy I met your expectations," he replied; neither of them noticed that they were still holding each other. "Do you want to dance to that?" he asked when Professor Flitwick's orchestra moved over, and an unfamiliar band started playing, immediately changing the soft and gentle music of waltz to something that sounded like rock.
"Not a chance," Daphne replied, leaving their embrace. "I don't fancy a group dancing. You?"
"Nah, I'm good," Harry answered, shaking his head. "Do you want something to drink? I don't know about you, but I'm dying of thirst."
"A glass of punch sounds good. I'll wait here."
With that, Harry left for the main table, leaving Daphne alone. She sat down on one of the vacant chairs, following the young boy's steps with her eyes; the glim of happiness that rested there didn't fade away as she stared at Harry's back.
"Greengrass!" a voice from behind her called her name, making Daphne roll her eyes in annoyance. She knew that people would approach her about her sudden affiliation with Potter, but she really hoped that it would happen later rather than sooner. However, Tracey wasn't known for her patience. Without standing up from the chair, she turned around.
"Enjoying your evening?" she asked when the brown-haired witch managed to squeeze herself between the chairs.
"It sure looks like you are enjoying it pretty much," Tracey replied. "You really are the worst, you know that?" she accused her friend, pointing her finger at her chest.
"Quite the contrary – I'm the best," Daphne countered swiftly. "You've said it yourself that you're learning from the best, haven't you? Where did you lose Blaise?" she asked, only then noticing that the black-skinned boy wasn't there. Tracey shrugged her shoulders.
"He's somewhere, it doesn't matter; don't change the topic – I'm interrogating you!"
"Then you're doing a poor job," Daphne countered with a voice that sounded too sweet to be genuine.
"You lied to me," Tracey accused her, once again pointing her finger at Daphne's chest.
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did! In the Dormitories! You've said that you didn't have a date for tonight."
"Potter isn't my date. We've agreed to attend the Ball as friends," Daphne countered.
"And when I specifically asked about him, you've said that he asked Chang!"
"And I never said that she agreed."
Tracey groaned heavily, throwing her head behind; she stomped her foot like a child throwing a tantrum. "Why must you be so difficult?" she complained.
"You've known me for over ten years, and you've realized that only now?"
"You know, I actually hoped that for once you would behave like a proper friend, and tell me who you were going with. Especially since that someone is a Hogwarts Champion and the Gryffindor Golden Boy himself."
"I don't understand what the big deal is," Daphne replied, shrugging her shoulders. There was something addictive in infuriating Tracey, though she couldn't quite pinpoint it. She honestly wondered why Tracey didn't hate her already.
"You know what, I came here tonight to have fun with my boyfriend, and not play your little games," her friend countered, raising her hands in a sign of defeat. "But don't think that this talk is over, Daph. Oh, and if you end up snogging Potter somewhere in the broom closet, I expect to be the first one to know!"
"If it ever happens, which I can already tell you that won't, you'll be the last person to know that."
Tracey groaned heavily again before turning around on her feet abruptly and walking back to wherever she came from. Daphne still managed to catch a glimpse of her middle finger directed at her. The party on the dance floor was in a full swing; hundreds of students were jumping up and down to the rhythm of the band's music in a pathetic excuse for a dance. At least that's what Daphne thought. Having grown used to the numerous balls and dinner parties she attended with her parents, she wished that the gentle classical music would go on for much longer than only the first song. She sincerely hoped that once the students that were in the orchestra had their fun, Professor Flitwick would make them play again.
"May I talk to you?" a voice she vaguely recognized spoke from next to her, bringing Daphne out of her thoughts. The Slytherin girl cocked her head slightly, only to be met with Hermione's face.
"Granger," she acknowledged the bushy-haired witch.
"What have you done to Harry?" Hermione asked, crossing her arms beneath her bust. Really subtle, Daphne thought, slightly rolling her eyes.
"I've taught him how to dance and made him get a haircut. Oh, and I've also helped him to pick his suit. Why? Don't you like the result?" Daphne replied as politely as she could. Where is Potter? She asked herself, glancing towards the main table. Unfortunately, the view was obscured by the dancing masses.
"That's not what I meant," Hermione protested. "He's not talking to Ron or me anymore, and it somehow got in sync with when you were paired up in Potions. Harry would never turn his back on us like that on his own, so once again: what have you done to him?"
Daphne raised her eyebrow, standing up from her chair to look at the bushy-haired witch. "Have you made that one up yourself, or was it Weasley's idea?" she countered. "Blame me all you want, but I had nothing to do with Potter not wanting to speak to you or Weasel anymore. But you know what? You're right, he wouldn't turn his back on you. I might not know Potter as well as you or Weasel, but I'm more than certain that he would be there for either of you if it was your name that came out from the Goblet of Fire. Perhaps that's why your behavior hurt him so much," Daphne said, continuing to drill holes with her gaze in the other witch. She watched not without satisfaction as Hermione's eyes widened in shock of realization. Did she notice it only now?
The crowd on the dance floor thinned out slightly, allowing Daphne to catch a glimpse of the main table. Her gaze hardened immediately. "I refuse to be blamed for your actions or mistakes, Granger. Now, excuse me, but I have a situation to get under control, and I intend to enjoy my evening. I suggest you do the same." With that, the Slytherin girl left the circular table at which they were having a conversation, not noticing the broken look on Hermione's face.
With her back straightened as much as possible, Daphne made her way towards the main table where Harry was, accompanied by Ginny Weasley. The Slytherin girl blinked twice as she approached the two students; she couldn't remember a time she saw a dress that hideous. Looks like Weasel and the Weaselette paired up perfectly.
The pace of her steps increased as she observed the youngest Weasley handing a glass filled with a punch to Harry. She had no doubts that it wasn't the only liquid that Ginny wanted him to drink at that moment. With her perfected mask of bored indifference and a smirk on her face that infuriated so many people, Daphne swiftly joined the two students at the table, grabbing the drink from Harry's hand.
"Perfect, I'm thirsty," she said, stirring the light red liquid. "It took you long enough, Potter," Daphne added, placing her hand on Harry's shoulder. Confusion was written all over his face, but the Slytherin girl had no idea whether it was caused by her sudden appearance, Daphne ripping the drink away from his grasp, or the sudden endearment in her actions.
"What are you doing here?" Ginny hissed at her with poorly concealed hatred. Daphne did her best to put as much insincerity into her smirk as possible, directing it into her voice as well.
"Enjoying the night with my date," she stated simply. "He looks lovely, doesn't he? Nice dress, by the way," Daphne added, quickly scanning Ginny's form with her eyes. She could swear that if the youngest Wesley gritted her teeth more, they would break. If it wasn't for the quite thick layer of make-up covering her face, Ginny's cheeks would be almost as red as her hair.
"Sorry, it took me forever to squeeze myself through all these people," Harry apologized, scratching the back of his head.
"No problem," Daphne replied, looking at him from under her eyelashes. "I'm glad you saved it for me," she said, raising the glass to her lips.
"Don't drink that!" Ginny yelled suddenly, startling Harry, who looked at her with confusion in his eyes. Daphne, instead, glared daggers at the girl in front of her.
"Don't worry, Weaselette," she replied, pouring the punch on the Christmas tree next to her. "I have quite a… picky taste. I'm not sure if I would handle that punch well."
"What did you call me, Ice Bitch?" Ginny hissed. Harry's confusion only increased as he observed the interaction between the two girls in front of him.
"Do you have a problem with your ears?"
"You can have a problem with that pretty little face of yours in a moment," she replied; Harry could swear that Ginny was shaking with anger.
"Okay, calm down," he interjected, just as he noticed both girls reaching for their wands simultaneously. He decided not to wonder where they kept them. He doubted it would do him any good if he was unable to look Daphne in the eyes that evening. "Here, I hope you'll like this one," Harry said, handing Daphne a new glass with a punch; the beverage didn't differ from the previous one in the slightest. She accepted it gladly, once again making a curtsey.
"Excuse us, but we would like to get some fresh air," Daphne said, walking past Ginny. If one could channel magic with their eyes, Daphne's head would have exploded at that very moment. Nevertheless, she dragged Harry away from the main table and towards a small door, decorated with a variety of Christmas ornaments, that led to a garden, outside the Great Hall.
"What was that all about?" Harry whispered to her as they left the main area of the Ball. The temperature difference could be felt instantaneously; Harry actually shivered a little when the cold winter breeze replaced the warmth of the Great Hall.
"If I had to guess, I would say that the Weaselette was… disappointed with her company tonight and attempted to claim someone better," Daphne replied, interlocking her arm with Harry's, leaning against him slightly for support. "I had my suspicions when I saw you talking with her, and, judging by her reaction to when I wanted to drink that punch from her, I can say that I was correct."
"And what were those suspicions?" Harry asked her, frowning slightly. No matter how many times he went over that incident, he couldn't understand why both girls acted the way they did.
Daphne cocked her head and raised her eyebrow "Seriously, Potter? You have no idea? Have you ever heard of a Love Potion?" she asked him when Harry only shook his head. After a few seconds, his eyes widened in realization.
"You think that she wanted to slip me one?"
Daphne shrugged her shoulders. "It's possible. That or maybe something else, I'm not sure. However, her reaction was a clear giveaway. I seriously doubt that she has an antidote, and it would be hard for her to explain to Madam Pomfrey or Professor Snape why I was suddenly interested in her in a 'romantic' way. After all, Love Potions are officially banned in Hogwarts."
"Officially," Harry echoed her words.
"Yes, officially. However, that still doesn't stop students from attempting to get the attention of the person they fancy," Daphne explained as they strolled through the garden. It was truly a wonderland, though one couldn't expect anything less with Hogwarts having such great Transfiguration Masters as Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore.
The garden was vast or, at least, it seemed to be, though it was impossible to guess its true size due to the hedges that grew there and served as walls between the alleys. Various flowers were inserted into the hedges, breaking the seemingly endless sea of green; the flakes were frozen, but that didn't stop the plants from looking as beautiful as they would in spring. From time to time, a lonely bench appeared, serving as a temptation for couples that wanted to avoid the crowd's eyes and spend some quality time alone.
"So, unless you actually want to fall victim to such a play, make sure to pour your own drinks," Daphne continued as they walked down the stairs that would take them further into the garden; the loud sound of the band's music was following them all the way from the Great Hall. "Not that I care, of course. You're free to do whatever you want, but I'd rather avoid such an… embarrassment tonight."
"Of course," Harry replied, snorting slightly. Daphne's behavior was stranger than usual. It was as if he attended the Ball with a completely different person than the one he got to know over the weeks in the Library or in the Chamber. If he didn't know better, he would say that Daphne was acting jealously. Harry didn't want to get a first-hand experience of what happened to Flint, though, so he kept his mouth shut. "Okay, I can somewhat understand that Ginny wanted to do something like that. She's been… well, you can say that she's been obsessed with me even before she met me. She actually cornered me the other day and wanted me to take her as my date to the Ball," Harry informed her, earning himself a huff from Daphne. "But what was the matter with Cho? Didn't you say that she was interested in Cedric?"
"Yes, and my guess is that she wanted to make him jealous by pretending to be your date," Daphne replied.
"She lied to me," Harry muttered, for the first time that evening allowing his mind to wonder about the whole Cho situation. "She said she had someone to go with when I asked her out."
"Happens," Daphne commented, shrugging her shoulders. "Perhaps she hoped that Diggory would ask her and wanted to leave herself available. Well, her loss, my gain. I wasn't lying when I've said that you cleaned up nicely, Potter," she explained upon noticing a puzzled expression on the boy's face. "And if the opening dance is anything to go by, you're quite gifted in that area. I'm actually looking forward to dancing some more with you tonight."
"Thanks," Harry replied, scratching the back of his head; his cheeks reddened slightly. "I'm doing my best. Though it was you who taught me how to dance."
"Noted and appreciated," Daphne commented, sighing heavily. "Pity that my Housemates will, undoubtedly, refuse to let me enjoy this evening as much as I'd like to. I can only hope that they will refrain themselves from causing a scene in the Great Hall; it will be much easier to deal with them in the Common Room."
"Yeah," Harry chuckled. "I guess that there is also a lecture waiting for me as well. Ron looked as if he was ready to murder me during the opening dance." His face fell. How did this all happen? "Well, at least I won't be here for the Christmas Break, so I only have to survive long enough to reach my bed."
"You're going back to London?"
"Yeah, why?"
Daphne shrugged her shoulders. "You never returned for Christmas, as far as I remember. And the things you've said about your family… well, let's just say that I didn't expect you to leave Hogwarts right now."
"At first, I was invited to spend the Christmas with Weasleys," Harry informed her. "But I doubt that's an option now. But, ummmm, a good friend of mine contacted me some time ago, inviting me for Christmas," he informed her, shrugging his shoulders. "I'd rather spend the Break with them than here. What about you? Are you returning to London as well?"
"Yes. And that… friend of yours – did they send those letters that you always rip into shreds?"
"So you've noticed."
"I notice many things, as you surely know by now."
"Yes," he confirmed, answering her earlier question. "It's… safer that way."
"Is your friend he or she?"
"She," Harry replied immediately, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Sure, he told Daphne the truth about Sirius and Remus, but the fact remained that in the public's eyes, they were considered criminals, and he wasn't sure how she would react if he told her with whom he would spend the Christmas Break. Harry actually expected Daphne to call out his little lie, but all he heard was a soft huff. Maybe I'll tell her one day.
"I've had quite an… interesting conversation with Granger tonight," Daphne said, changing the topic. "She said that you don't talk to her or Weasel anymore."
"Remember how I told you why I was late when we went to Hogsmeade?" Daphne nodded in confirmation. "They wanted to talk back then – to apologize or something like that. To sum it up, Hermione told me that she believed in those stories about me in our second year," Harry informed her; his face fell once again. "She tried to ignore that, of course, but, I don't know, I guess it hurts me that a person I considered a sister believed I was capable of doing something like that. I can't help but wonder if she blamed me when she was attacked as well," he muttered, kicking a lonely pebble that lay on the ground. "She said she was terrified when my name came out from the Goblet, especially because she remembered the attack that happened during the World Cup. It certainly didn't help that I've told both of them about those two times I faced Voldemort," he added with another shrug. "Ron actually didn't say much back then, but it was still painful to see him wearing that damned badge. I doubt he will try to apologize tonight," he continued with a humorless chuckle. "It's just easier to avoid them, I guess."
"Granger blamed me for your fall out," Daphne informed him.
"Seriously?"
"Yes. But enough of that. I think the music has changed, and I'd want to dance some more tonight," she replied. After focusing on the distant sound that was still reaching them, Harry deduced that she was correct – the music had indeed changed. Instead of hard tunes with which the band began their show, a soft melody of violins and flutes was reaching their ears. Professor Flitwick has undoubtedly ordered the orchestra to resume their positions.
"It doesn't sound like the waltz," Harry protested weakly, though he didn't oppose as Daphne dragged him back towards the Great Hall.
"I doubt it will repeat tonight. Just let the music guide your body, and you will be fine," she countered without even looking at him. "And try not to step on my feet!"
Shaking his head, Harry allowed the Slytherin girl to guide him into the Hall and towards the center of the dance floor. A lot of students, and some of the Staff members, were already there, dancing to the rhythm dictated by the orchestra. Peeping at the other boys, Harry positioned himself in front of Daphne, grabbing both of her hands before they started dancing as well.
It couldn't be more different than the waltz they danced in the beginning. It was at the same time easier, and harder, than the steps they've perfected in the Chamber. On the one hand, Harry was given a free hand when it came to his movements, but at the same time, he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing. A few awkward seconds passed as he and Daphne simply rotated around, taking a step towards each other and then a step backward. After a few repeats of the same simple steps, and bumping into one of the dancing couples, Harry raised his right arm, dropping Daphne's right hand.
The Slytherin girl seemed to anticipate his movements, because she instantly used the opportunity to do a small pirouette beneath Harry's arm, never once removing her fingers from his grasp. The hem of her gown swirled around her, gently hitting Harry's legs. He caught her hand immediately when she was facing him once again.
Their dance continued through a couple more songs. Taking a page from other boys' books, Harry tried to mimic their movements, rotating Daphne in his arms a couple of times, having her roll up his arm with his hand encircling her stomach and bare back. If her expression was anything to go by, Daphne was quite pleased with his performance.
Perhaps the Ball is much easier than going against a dragon, Harry commented.
"Well done, Mr. Potter," Daphne commented when they were swaying to the much gentler tune played by the orchestra. They were in the same position as during the waltz, but instead of walking to the rhythm of 'one, two, three,' they were simply spinning slowly, holding each other. "You're quite a talented dancer. And I didn't teach you that," she added before Harry could say anything; he smiled in response.
"Well, I have an excellent partner," he replied sheepishly.
"Good answer," Daphne commented; the happy glim in her eyes intensified.
After that slow dance, they took a break, returning to the main table as Harry's stomach reminded him of its emptiness. After scanning the menu card, he decided to go with the same thing that Daphne had. It turned out to be an excellent choice as the fish meat was unbelievably delicate, and the vegetables practically melted on his tongue.
After satisfying his rumbling stomach, they returned to the dance floor. With each quick song passing, Harry was getting more and more used to the demands of the music's tempo. His movements were becoming less and less strained, much to Daphne's pleasure. Harry actually wondered how she was able to dance so freely in the high heels she was wearing, but he guessed that it was just a woman's secret. Or magic, he stated after a while. Or perhaps a combination of both, he had no idea, but that thought didn't stop him from enjoying the evening with the Slytherin girl.
Dumbledore announced the end of the Ball much too quickly, in their opinion, just as they finished their last slow dance. With a soft smile, Harry offered Daphne his arm, which she accepted gladly, resting herself against his shoulder. Accompanied by other couples that also remained until the very end of the Ball, the two left the Hall, heading towards the Dungeons.
"I hope I met your expectations," Harry whispered to her, almost afraid of breaking the sudden silence that held the Castle in its grasp.
"You did," Daphne replied, squeezing his arm a little harder. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. I had an excellent time tonight," she said as they reached the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room.
He chuckled slightly. "My pleasure. I also had fun tonight, Ms. Greengrass," he replied in the same official tone. Unsure of what he should do as a goodbye, Harry lifted Daphne's right hand towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. He could swear that he noticed a subtle shadow of pink beneath the thin layer of her make-up. "Goodnight," he said, turning around to leave.
"Goodnight, Potter," Daphne replied before entering the Common Room. Whether she knew it or not, she said his last name much more softly than ever before.
Harry hurried up the stairs towards the Gryffindor Tower. Even though the curfew was lifted because of the Ball, he still didn't want to run into Filch at such a late hour. The Castle was deadly silent, except for the steps of the last students returning to their Dormitories. Each step Harry took seemed to him to be loud enough to wake up a dead man.
He took in a deep breath before walking through the hole behind the Fat Lady's portrait. He knew what awaited him inside, and deep down he wished that the Ball never ended. That way, he wouldn't be forced to return to the Common Room.
"Are you mad?!" Ron's exclamation greeted him as soon as Harry entered the Common Room, causing him to roll his eyes. "What was that?!"
"What was what?" he dodged the accusation while at the same time making a quick scan of the people that were waiting for him. Ron was there, of course, practically seething with anger. Harry could swear that smoke would start coming out of his ears at any moment. Hermione was sitting on one of the couches as well, accompanied by Ginny; her make-up was destroyed by the tears that were still visible on her face. The youngest Weasley was glaring at him with an expression similar to the one of her brother.
Fred and George were standing at the wall, though they were grinning from ear to ear, seemingly unphased by the scandal that Harry and Daphne caused. Neville was standing a few steps away from them, keeping a safe distance; a small smile was dancing in the corner of his lips, just as the shy boy danced in the Great Hall with his date.
"Harry!" one of the Twins approached him, slapping his shoulder. "You didn't say that you managed to claim the hottest snake!" Fred, probably, said, laughing alongside his brother.
"Well done, mate," George added.
"You really think this is funny?!" Ginny exclaimed, standing up from her spot next to Hermione. "That bitch has surely had him under some dark influence!"
Like you tried to slip me a Love Potion? Harry couldn't help but think, though he didn't say those words aloud.
"Harry here surely seemed to be under an influence, but I doubt magic had anything to do with that," Fred answered, winking at his sister.
"I don't even recognize you!" Ron yelled at Harry, walking towards him. "Associating with snakes now? What next? They're all Death Eaters, every single one of them!"
"In case YOU forgot, the first Death Eater WE met used to be a Gryffindor," Harry countered, crossing his arms over his chest. "And it's not your business with whom I spend my time."
"Oh, sure, why would the 'Great Harry Potter' need his stupid friend Ron?" the youngest brother replied mockingly.
"You stopped being my friend the moment you put on that badge," Harry countered, gritting his teeth. "Go ahead, put it on. It suits you. And yeah, I don't need around me people who don't believe me," he continued; his eyes moved towards Hermione for a split second. The bushy-haired witch dropped her gaze immediately. "And not once did I have to tell her that I didn't put my name in that damn Goblet. NOT ONCE! She believed me, even though she barely knew me! So yeah, it shows quite well what kind of a friend you are, Ron."
He huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Seriously, are you going to drag that out now? I've apologized to you already! What else do you want me to do?! Fall on my knees and beg for forgiveness?" he asked, pushing Harry with his hands. Surprised by the sudden attack, the young boy stumbled backward a couple of steps.
"ENOUGH!" Hermione yelled suddenly, before Harry could say something in response. "Haven't you ruined enough tonight already? Honestly, Ronald, do you think that your apology sounded convincing? You only did that because I begged you to, though now I don't understand why I did that! And you," she said, glaring at Ginny. "Harry didn't go with you, so get over it. I know what you wanted to do tonight, and it's repulsive! I'm actually glad that Daphne stopped Harry from drinking that punch!"
So, Daphne was right, Harry said to himself as he stared in disbelief at the youngest Weasley; her eyes were glaring daggers at Hermione.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she whimpered, looking at him; fresh tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "For everything. I know that what I did was wrong, I really do," she continued, taking in a shaky breath. "I should have been there for you when you needed me. I… I now know that you would if I were in your shoes. I'm sorry."
"I accept it," Harry whispered, looking at his feet. "But, as I said, I don't need people who can't believe my words. I'm sorry, Hermione." Her lower lip trembled as she held back a sob.
"Maybe you should talk to Dumbledore about changing the House," Ron spat through gritted teeth. "You seem to get along with the snakes."
"Yeah, maybe I should. Just so you know, the Sorting Hat actually considered placing me in Slytherin," Harry countered, walking towards the steps. The Ball was exhausting, and he had to get up early to catch the train.
"Stupid snake-lover!" Ron called after him, though Harry paid his words no mind.
He drew the curtains shut when he reached his bed. After a second thought, he cast a couple of protection charms around his bed, unsure of what Ron would attempt to do him in his current state. Guess that's the end of things.
Daphne took in a deep breath before walking around the corner. Her wand was drawn as she entered the Common Room, ready to be used at any moment.
Just as she expected, there was quite a crowd waiting for her. Doing a quick scan, she realized that all her Slytherins from her year were there, focused around Malfoy. Tracey and Blaise were waiting for her as well, though they were standing a couple of steps away from everyone. It was the first time she could remember that she was actually glad that she had friends in her House.
"Well, well, well, Greengrass," Malfoy greeted her with a sneer. The grip on her wand intensified. "You know, you look quite lovely tonight. Though really? Potter?" he asked with a chuckle, shaking his head. "Enlighten me, why would someone like you lower themselves to his level?"
"Is that you talking, or have you already told 'Daddy' about the Ball?" Daphne countered, taking careful steps forward.
"You should know better, Greengrass, than to associate with him," Draco sneered.
"Did you seriously refuse my invitation to go with him?" Theodore Nott asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "How many guys did you actually turn down when you realized that it's too late to go back and had to agree to anyone to have someone to go with?"
"Quite a few, actually," Daphne replied. "Though Potter wasn't the reason for that. Your personal hygiene leaves a lot to be desired, Nott."
"You little bitch!" he hissed at her, reaching towards his pocket to grab a wand. Daphne prepared herself, raising her right arm ever so slightly; the spell was already on her tongue, though she knew better than to be the first one to cast it.
"What is all the commotion?" Professor Snape's voice, even though it was low, managed to reach everyone gathered in the Common Room. Daphne let out a quiet sigh of relief. She doubted if even with Tracey's and Blaise's help, she would be able to defend herself against her Housemates.
"We're just talking with Greengrass here," Malfoy replied easily, as if Snape's presence didn't bother him at all.
"I don't doubt that," the Potions Master replied. "But I believe it's quite late for a night talk. Off to beds, all of you!" he ordered. "I don't want to hear anything from the Dormitories tonight, and I'll know if you used silencing charms."
A few of Daphne's Housemates glared at Professor Snape, even if it lasted only for a split second, though they complied with his demand nonetheless, slowly leaving the Common Room. Daphne breathed out in relief once again, though she didn't hide her wand.
"Not so fast, Ms. Greengrass," Professor Snape called out after her as she started walking towards her Dormitory as well. "I'd like to speak with you in my office," he informed her, turning around and leaving the Common Room.
Exchanging a quick look with Tracey, Daphne told her not to wait for her before she followed her Head of the House. She wasn't sure what to expect. Sure, she was well aware that a confrontation with the other Slytherins was unavoidable though it went much more smoothly than she anticipated. With no spell fired from anyone, it almost resembled a conversation between friends.
And so, she left the Common Room and walked towards the Potions Classroom; Professor Snape was nowhere in sight, so she assumed that he was already waiting for her in his office. Despite being called there by Snape himself a few minutes earlier, Daphne still knocked on the door before entering. A simple command 'enter' was all she needed.
"You wanted to talk to me, Professor?" she asked, standing a couple of steps away from his desk. Instead of answering, Snape cast a spell on her so quickly that Daphne didn't even have a chance to blink. She raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
"I was told that Professor Moody has shown you the Unforgivable Curses, including Imperio," Professor Snape informed her. "I wanted to make sure that you weren't under its influence."
"Why would I be, Professor?"
"Your… company tonight made me think that," Snape replied, standing up from his chair and walking towards one of the cabinets. He quickly took a small vial from there and handed it to Daphne. "Drink this, Ms. Greengrass," he ordered with a voice that left no room for argument. Without hesitation, the young girl uncorked the vial and drank its content. "And?"
"Should I feel any different?"
"It was a Love Potion antidote," Snape informed her, examining her with his eyes. "Though it seems that there was no need for that. Tell me, Ms. Greengrass, what Potter did to you?"
"He made sure that I had an enjoyable evening, Professor," Daphne replied as politely as she could. Did her Head of the House really think so low of her that he expected her to be under the influence of something?
"Is that all?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.
"Yes, Professor. I have nothing to complain about, maybe except for the behavior of some of my Housemates."
"You can't blame them for showing concern about your wellbeing, Ms. Greengrass."
"I hardly consider that as a concern, Professor."
"You're free to go, Ms. Greengrass," he dismissed her. "Though I would suggest you take some… precautions before going to bed. I think not everyone will be willing to let go of the recent events so easily."
"I'll keep that in mind, Professor," she promised before leaving the office and the Potions Classroom.
Tracey actually waited for her in the Common Room, and the two girls made their way to their Dormitory. Heading Professor Snape's advice, Daphne cast a few protection charms around her bed when she was already in the safety of the drawn curtains.
Despite the exhaustion and the necessity to wake up early in the morning, the sleep eluded her. Her mind kept replaying the entire Ball in front of her eyes: Harry refusing Cho's offer, the opening dance, their walk in the garden, and the many dances that followed it. The way he looked at her, complimented her appearance, and kissed her hand as a goodbye filled her heart with pure joy.
For the first time Daphne could remember, her lips curled up in a genuine smile as she reached for her wand.
"Expecto Patronum," she whispered. Her smile grew wider as she observed the silver mist coming out of her wand. It focused in the middle of her bed, slowly forming a circular shape; Daphne was sure that the light would alert her Dormmates if it wasn't for the thick curtains separating her from other girls.
But before the spell could reach its full potential, the silver mist evaporated, and her smile faded away from her lips as she remembered what Potter told her. The following day, he was riding to meet his friend.
Phew, quite a long chapter. There you have it, the beginning of a romance between Harry and Daphne. I hope you've enjoyed it, and I'm sorry to everyone who hoped for the first kiss in this chapter. As I've said already, I want the relationship to build up slowly, and they are still 14! I hardly consider that an appropriate age for romantic relationships XD. Also, I'm sorry if the confrontations after the Ball didn't meet your expectations, but I wanted this chapter to be sweet and happy, and so on. Not to mention I had no idea how to write those confrontations XD. I'll try to fix my mistake somewhat in the future. As always, thank you for reading. Let me know what you thought about this chapter, and see you in the next update!