Chapter Four-
My dearest Dragon Rider- No maimings, no deaths- I knew of course you would emerge successful but your performance was astounding. Unplanned works very well for you. The spell I had in mind would hardly have resulted in such heroic images as I have managed to get my hands on. An image of you hanging off of a spike from the spine with your eyes tightly screwed up in terror is one amongst many. I'm so proud, tears come to my eyes: you, little Prongslet, are the first Marauder to ride a dragon. James' stint on the Giant Squid's back cannot compare. First place in the tournament? Excellent. If someone fucks with your life, Tempest, unleash hell. You'll win this thing and come out stronger than ever.
I'm closer now, but I'll be keeping a low profile for a while, so it might be some time before we can talk again. We do have a lot to talk about, and I'm working on plan that'll allow us so much more time to catch up on that. More to come. –Yours. Sirius.
Tempest told no one of her sporadic ability to wield wandless magic.
By some miracle, no one had noticed her feat in the arena, and after that night, Tempest couldn't summon a spark of magic without her wand. So as November went by and December began, Tempest began to think of her apparent ability to use wandless magic as a one-two time thing, barely worth mentioning.
Still, it didn't stop her from flicking her fingers at her cup of tea in an attempt to re-heat it, or to stare very hard at particular greasy-haired bat in an attempt to make his hair catch fire.
December found Tempest to be immensely grateful for Hogwarts thick walls, even drafty as the castle was during winter months. Tempest found herself tugging her cloak tighter around herself as she watched the Durmstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the rough winds, it's black sails billowing against the dark skies. She imagined the Beauxbatons caravan wasn't likely to be very warm either, and she noticed that Hagrid was keeping Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in the comer of their paddock were enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. This was unhelpful, as they were still tending the horrible Skrewts and needed their wits about them.
"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try an see if they fancied a kip… we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes…"
There were now only ten Skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill one another had not been exercised out of them. Each of them were huge- now approaching six feet in length.
The class looked almost resignedly at the horrible things as Hagrid continued, "We'll jus' leave 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."
But the Skrewts, as it transpired, did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. A few seconds passed (if even that) and then the class was screaming and running for the relative safety of Hagrid's cabin as the Skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, the blazing and smoking wreckage of the crates strewn everywhere.
Hagrid, Tempest, Ron and Hermione were the only people that remained outside- and, to Tempest's irritation- Malfoy.
In the initial scramble, he'd tripped over Tempest's foot and the pair were now cornered together as three Skrewts advanced them. Tempest barely gave him a thought as they shot sparks and flames together at the creatures, forcing them back into the crates.
After blanketing the last Skrewt before them with a wave of water, Malfoy stepped in and conjured ropes around the Skrewt, which lasted just long enough for Tempest to stuff it into a crate.
They were advancing on the last Skrewt when the only person who could have made the situation worse, arrived.
"Well, well, well… this does look like fun." Skeeter said, leaning over Hagrid's garden fence, watching the mayhem with barely concealed contempt. She was again in glaringly bright colours, a magenta cloak with a fuzzy purple collar.
Hagrid leapt at the last Skrewt, he flattened it, a blast of fire shooting out of the end and withering the pumpkin plants nearby. "Who're you?" asked Hagrid, standing with a rope around the Skrewt.
"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," Rita replied, beaming at him, her gold teeth glinting.
"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore," said Hagrid, frowning slightly as he began tugging the slightly squashed Skrewt over to the others.
"Did he?" Tempest turned to grin over her shoulder- before realizing it was Malfoy who shot her a strange look, and she redirected her smile inwards.
Skeeter acted as though she hadn't heard a word. "What are these fascinating creatures called?" she asked, beaming so widely Tempest could count all of her teeth.
"Blast-Ended Skrewts," grunted Hagrid.
"Really?" Skeeter said, apparently full of interest. "I've never heard of them before… where do they come from?"
Tempest saw Hagrid flush a dull red, and she gritted her teeth. Were the Skrewts legal? Where had he gotten them?
"They're fascinating though, aren't they Hermione?" said Tempest loudly, directing her words in the right direction this time.
Hermione jumped, startled, but managed to shoot a Skrewt a look that wasn't disgusted. "Yes! They're really… they have amazing… qualities."
"Oh, you're here Tempest!" said Skeeter, "So do you like Care of Magical Creatures do you? One of your favourite subjects?"
"Even more so than Divination," replied Tempest.
"Lovely," said Skeeter, "really lovely. Been teaching long?"
Tempest failed to warn Hagrid, which led to his agreeing to an interview where he would doubtless be manipulated into trouble.
"I'll talk to him," said Hermione, looking quite desperate as they walked back up to the castle. "I'll give him some tips on what not to say…"
Tempest scowled. "Believe you me, Skeeter doesn't need you to actually say anything to write utter filth the world will soak up."
The day was not over. Divination was awful, filled with Trelawney's declarations of death and tragedy, while Hermione, had still not abandoned SPEW, and her quest to liberate the elves had stretched to her going down to the very kitchens to speak to them herself.
Tempest wondered which idiot had told Hermione how to get to the kitchens- she certainly hadn't, nor would the twins have. In the aftermath, Tempest headed down to the kitchens herself to see what damage had been done.
"Miss Tempest!" squeaked a voice the moment Tempest stepped through the fruitbowl portrait.
"Dobby, hi," said Tempest. She gave the massive high-ceilinged kitchen a cursory once over for any signs of chaos. It looked fine; at least the elves were bustling about as per their usual post-dinner routine looking as cheerful as ever.
"Dobby has been hopping for to see Tempest Potter for months now, miss, and Tempest Potter has come to see him!" Dobby beamed up at Tempest, his enormous, green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes brimming with tears of happiness.
"Yeah, sorry I haven't come to see you in a while-"
"Miss must not apologize!" exclaimed Dobby, "the house elves hear things, miss, and miss is very brave!"
Tempest gave an uneasy smile at that. "How've you been?"
To her absentminded guilt, Tempest had forgotten Dobby, only visiting him on the rare occasion when she and he happened to be in the kitchen at the same time. It didn't exactly ease her soul when Dobby was so overjoyed to see her.
"Very well, Miss Tempest, very well indeed!" squeaked Dobby, bouncing on the balls of his socked feet. He was wearing a tea cozy for a hat, on which he had pinned a number of bright badges, a tie patterned with horseshoes over a bare chest, and a pair of what looked like children's soccer shorts. "Mr Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, has been very good to Dobby, very kind indeed!"
"That's great," said Tempest, deciding to cut straight to the point, "look, er, Dobby, how are the rest of the elves? I know my friend Hermione Granger came to visit just today… "
Hermione's damage was, as it transpired, extensive. She had sent Winky, Crouch's dismissed house elf into hysterics and had offended a great many other house elves by discussing pay and sick leave.
Tempest tried to soothe ruffled feathers, though she couldn't seem to get through to Winky, who stood scrubbing a pot with tears dripping down her nose. Tempest left eventually, feeling the best thing she had done was to accept the piles of food that the house elves piled upon her. The beams on the house elves' faces spoke volumes, and Tempest asked if they could wrap it all up for her.
After a detour to her dormitory, Tempest mounted the stairs to the Owlrey with the massive parcel of food beneath her arm. Sirius was on her mind. She didn't know where he was or where he was staying, but he was likely sleeping rough, and Tempest could remember all too well what that had been like.
Tempest tied the food parcel to the largest of the school owls, and bundled the invisibility cloak into a separate parcel. She tied it to the leg of a smaller owl and attached a short note she scrawled.
Sirius- you need the cloak more than I do. It won't hide Buckbeak, but I'd say it makes hiding your mass-murdering mug a tad easier. I've sent you some food as well, do let me know if you're allergic to anything for future reference. – Supreme Overlord Tempestas, Rider of Dragons.
"Miss Potter! Will you pay attention?"
Minnie's voice cracked like a whip through Tempest's ears, and she jerked her eyes open to see Minnie glaring across desks at her.
Tempest blinked. She had finished transfiguring her guinea fowl into a guinea pig, already finished the homework on the blackboard ("Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches") and had taken the last ten minutes of the class to attempt to meditate.
Of course, these days, meditation for Tempest was predominately sitting with her eyes shut, attempting to feel intangible magic. Sirius had described it as a blind man, stumbling in the dark, searching for colour. He'd also said that after finding the colour it didn't get much easier.
So Tempest opened her eyes unresentfully and blinked at Minnie. More and more, the meditation felt pointless.
"Now that you have seen fit to grace me with your attention," snapped Minnie, "the Yule Ball is approaching, a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above- although you may invite a younger student if you wish."
Lavender and Paravati gave shrill giggles, and began whispering furiously to each other.
"Dress robes will be worn, and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then-" Minnie stared deliberately around the class. "The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to –er –let our hair down," she said in a disapproving voice.
Lavender giggled harder than ever, and Tempest rolled her eyes. Difficult as it was to believe, Minnie did have a life outside of her job.
"But that does NOT mean," continued Minnie, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts's students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."
The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.
Minnie called above the noise, "Miss Potter- a word if you please."
Hoping it wasn't about the mediation, Tempest walked around to Minnie's desk. If anyone would know the purpose, it would be Minnie. Unlikely as it was that Minnie would turn Tempest over to be locked in Azkaban, the fewer people who knew her plans, the better.
Minnie waited until the rest of the class had gone, then began. "Miss Potter, the champions and their partners-"
"I don't have a partner," said Tempest.
Minnie looked at her strangely. "Your partner for the Yule Ball, your dance partner."
Tempest stared at Minnie. "I don't have that either."
Minnie sighed as though Tempest was being intentionally difficult. "It is customary for the Yule Ball to be opened by the champions and their partners with a beginning dance. I suggest you find yourself a partner. It should not be difficult."
Tempest looked at Minnie askance. "Dancing. Even if I ignored that last part, I don't dance, Minnie. I was just thinking of sitting this one out, or if I were to go, to occupy some dark corner, blend in with the shadows-"
"You cannot 'sit this one out,' Tempest!"
Tempest laughed nervously. "I don't dance."
Minnie's eyebrows formed a severe line. "For this you do, Tempest."
"Minnie!" Tempest rephrased, "I can't dance."
"It is traditional," Minnie said with tone that could have frozen an avalanche in its tracks. "You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school."
Tempest glared at her.
Finally, she said, "well, you mentioned dress robes, and I don't have anything to wear, so-"
"We have actually spoken about this," said Minnie, "I bought and packed your dress robes for you at the start of this term."
That night, Tempest upended her trunk and dug through the mess to find a flat brown package she had overlooked. Tearing into it, she found dress robes of a deep blue, in her size and with a silver trim. Tempest spent many minutes staring at it resignedly before Hermione came up to their dormitory and found her there.
"Don't worry so much," said Hermione, "it won't be that bad."
"'mione, this is very much not anything close to comforting," said Tempest, "it's going to be dreadful. And I have to find a partner."
"Well who would you want to go to the ball with?" asked Hermione, "you might end up having a good time with them if nothing else."
"I wouldn't want to go with anyone, that's the point," said Tempest, "nor would I be prime company for anyone else."
"Tempest, as you're so fond of recalling, you rode a dragon. You're currently in the lead in the Triwizard Tournament. People will be queuing up to go with you."
"That sounds nightmarish." said Tempest. "Who would you want to go with?"
Hermione buried her face in Crookshanks fur, conveniently obscuring her expression. "I don't need to go with anyone," she said, "so it really doesn't matter."
Ron, the next day, did not share the sentiment.
"It's just a bit miserable isn't it?" he said around a mouthful of bacon the next day. "Turning up alone." He stared around the hall speculatively, gaze alighting on the Beauxbatons girls at the Ravenclaw table. "I wonder…"
"It's not an occasion to show up on someone's arm," said Hermione huffily, "it's as Professor McGonagall said- an opportunity to socialize with our foreign peers."
Ron was staring very hard at Fleur's back. "Yeah," he said slowly, "socialize."
Tempest scoffed and downed her tea hurriedly. "This is madness."
She wasn't wrong.
Never had there been so many people to put their names down to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. She always had because Minnie, as head of Gryffindor house had to stay, and unless Tempest fancied going back to the cottage by the Scottish coast by herself, she stayed at Hogwarts.
This year it seemed almost everyone from fourth year and up were staying.
All of which led up to the blaring point that Hermione had been right.
It wasn't a queue so much as an overwhelming wave of blokes, many of whom Tempest had never met much less registered before in her life. Now, they were flocking to Tempest like vultures to carrion.
She couldn't hide behind her mop of hair and slope the corridors to be mostly looked over, it was as though the smell of her rotting flesh had been scented and on came the scavengers.
It had been a fifth year Hufflepuff first, who approached with all of the subtlety of a steaming train, planted himself before Tempest and asked loudly and boisterously if she'd go to the ball with him. He stood a good head taller than her, and twice as wide, thick arms barely contained by his school robes. Tempest had stared up at him in incredible confusion and said no.
'No,' became a common phrase she dropped during the next few days. She was asked to the ball by a seventh year of an unknown house, a still squeaking second year, a sixth year Slytherin who had his wand out as if he would jinx Tempest if she refused.
She refused regardless and endured Ron's snickering. Realistically, not all of her options had been terrible, she could've chosen any one of them- save the second year- but it was a matter of principle.
The ball business aside, life had been improving after the first task. The dreadful Skeeter article had lost steam, while the headache inducing 'Support Cedric Diggory' badges had vanished, and Malfoy had gone strangely silent.
She still saw him around of course, his silvery blonde head passing by between classes, accompanied less and less by his thuggish friends, Crabbe and Goyle. It was Pansy Parkinson who was truly irritating these days; her sneering piggish features trying to resurrect the anti-Tempest movement of earlier in the year.
So, the invitations aside, Tempest was feeling quite positive. And to cap it all off, Skeeter hadn't published any article regarding Hagrid.
"She didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth," Hagrid said, when Tempest, Ron and Hermione went to ask him how his interview with Skeeter had gone. They were gathered behind Hagrid's cabin, cutting up food for the Skrewts. Thankfully Hagrid had given up on direct contact with the Skrewts in event of another disastrous lesson.
"She jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Tempest," said Hagrid in a low voice, "Well, I told her we'd been friends since your first year. 'Never had to tell her off in four years?' she said, "Never played you up in lessons, has she?" I told her no, an' you were a great student, but she didn' seem happy at all… Yeh'd think she wanted to say yeh were horrible Tempest."
"Of course she did," Tempest said, throwing lumps of chopped liver into a metal bowl and picking up her knife to cut some more. "She can't keep writing about how tragic and heroic I am, it'll get boring."
"She wants a new angle Hagrid," Ron said wisely, "You were meant to say Tempest's a mad hag."
"But she isn't!" said Hagrid, looking genuinely shocked.
Tempest winked, "Cheers. If she had interviewed Snape, she'd have gotten his weight in gold. 'She has never failed to step over a single line-'"
"Said that, did he?" said Hagrid while Ron and Hermione snickered. "Well, yeh might've bent a few rules Tempest, bu' yeh're all righ' really, aren' you?"
"Aren't I?"
"You coming to this ball thing on Christmas Day, Hagrid?" said Ron.
"Though' I might look in on it, yeah," said Hagrid gruffly. "Should be a good do, I reckon. You'll be openin' the dancin', won' yeh, Tempest? Who're you goin' with?"
"No one, yet," said Tempest curtly. Hagrid didn't pursue the subject.
The last week of term became increasingly boisterous. Rumors about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though Tempest didn't believe half of them- for instance, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Rosmerta. It seemed to be fact, however, that he had booked the Weird Sisters. Tempest had heard them several times on the WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network,) and they were quite good, though she lacked the nostalgia for their music that those growing up listening to their songs held.
Some of the teachers like Flitwick, gave up teaching them when they were so distracted that more things ended up blown up in one hour than usually did in a whole year. He let them play games instead in his lesson on Wednesday. He spent most of the time speaking to Tempest about her use of elemental charms in the arena.
Other teachers were not so forgiving. Nothing would ever deflect Professor Binns from plowing on through his notes on goblin rebellions- as Binns hadn't let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, they supposed a small thing like Christmas wasn't going to put him off. He truly had an unparalleled talent for making bloody and vicious wars and riots as dull as Ancient Runes.
Minnie and Moody kept them working until the last second of their classes too, though Tempest hardly minded for those subjects. Snape too would no sooner let them play games in class than adopt Tempest.
Staring nastily around at them all, he informed them that he would be testing them on poison antidotes during the last lesson of the term.
"Evil, he is," Ron said bitterly that night in the Gryffindor common room. "Springing a test on us on the last day. Ruining the last bit of term with a whole load of studying."
"Mmm… you're not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?" said Hermione, looking at him over the top of her Potions notes. Ron was busy building a card castle out of his Exploding Snap pack- a much more interesting pastime than with Muggle cards.
"Leave off him, Hermione," said Tempest idly, lying sprawled out on her signature couch in the Gryffindor common room with Nyx on her stomach. "It's Christmas."
"I would have thought that you'd be doing something constructive too Tempest, even if you don't need to study!"
"Like?" asked Tempest, more distracted by Nyx's tail, which was flicking to and fro as the cat stared a feather which was floating down from the ceiling.
"Figuring out that egg!" Hermione hissed.
Tempest sighed, reluctant to come out of the warm haze her mind had drifted off into. "Hermione, I've more than two months."
"But it might take weeks to work it out!" said Hermione. "You're going to look a real idiot if everyone else knows what the next task is and you don't!"
Tempest sighed. She had put her egg in her trunk up in the girl's dormitories after the horrible incident in the common room, and she had no desire to open it again. "Fine," she sighed, nudging Nyx off her lap and making to stand. "I'll… go to the library or something."
"Leave her alone, Hermione, she's earned a bit of a break," said Ron, and he placed the last two cards on top of the castle. The whole lot blew up, singeing his eyebrows.
"Nice look, Ron... go well with your dress robes, that will."
It was Fred and George. They sat down at the table with them as Ron felt for how much damage had been done.
"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked.
"Yeah sure," said Ron. "Why?"
"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," said Fred sarcastically.
"Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat," said George. He caught Tempest's eye, and gave a resigned grimnace. Still no luck with Bagman then.
"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" said Ron.
"Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you too," said Fred, waving his wand threateningly. He gave George a quick glance then looked around at them. "So... you lot got dates for the ball yet?"
"Nope," said Ron.
"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," said Fred.
"Who're you going with, then?" said Ron.
"Angelina," said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.
"What?" said Ron, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"
"Good point," said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, "Oi! Angelina!" Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him.
"What?" she called back.
"Want to come to the ball with me?"
Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look. "All right, then," she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.
"There you go," said Fred to Ron, "piece of cake." He seemed to give George another hard look, and added; "easy as pie."
"Yeah, I'll be off then," Tempest said, getting to her feet.
George's head snapped up. "Oh, you're going? I was wondering if I could have a word."
"Yes?" Tempest paused, looking at George expectantly. He said nothing, and Tempest wondered if it was about Bagman. "I'm off to see what I can find out about my egg, as per Hermione's wishes," she shot the girl a dark look. "We can talk later if you like- is it important?"
George seemed to struggle for a moment, then in an abrupt change he shrugged casually. "Yeah, I'll see you when you get back."
Tempest clapped George on the shoulder and exited the common room.
She did not head in the direction of the library. The idea that she was actually going to do some decent and good research was laughable. She instead headed for the Owlery, thinking she could probably get a couple of hours of meditation in on the roof.
The narrow winding stone staircase was incredibly drafty as Tempest climbed the steps, and she was about halfway up when the sudden sound of footsteps descending echoed down to her, and with her head ducked, Tempest didn't see who it was that passed and continued down the tower steps.
"Hey! Hey- Potter-"
It was Malfoy's voice. Tempest paused and turned to see him coming back around the curve of the tower.
He stopped just a step below her, so that they were level. He had his hands shoved deep into his pockets, and he stared very hard at Tempest. "Could I have a word?"
Tempest raised an eyebrow. "Sure."
She and Malfoy hadn't clashed recently, and in those some weeks of lack of contact, Tempest found herself feeling far less hostile toward him. He was frowning now, his forehead creased while Tempest waited expectantly.
Malfoy's jaw worked for a few seconds like he had forgotten how to form words, then he spoke chokedly, but quite clearly; "Would you like to go to the ball with me?"
Tempest thought perhaps she had misheard. "I… ah… I beg your pardon?"
Malfoy shook his head, cleared his throat. "That is to say, I am asking if you would go to the ball with me."
"The Yule Ball," confirmed Tempest.
Malfoy's head jerked down in a nod. "That one."
"Right." A thought sprung to Tempest's mind. She gave a quick, short laugh. "Do you feel quite all right? You aren't feeling delirious, are you?"
Malfoy blinked, startled. "What? No-" He did look a bit disoriented now, and Tempest grimaced in sympathy.
"No, Potter," Malfoy was scowling, a far more familiar expression. "I feel fine. I am actually asking you to the ball. If you are already going with someone else-"
"I'm not," said Tempest in bemusement.
There was a pause.
"I am aware others have asked," said Malfoy, "I simply wasn't aware if you'd decided to go with someone yet, or if you were considering-"
"No, and I haven't," said Tempest.
Malfoy let out a breath and fell silent.
"I- look-" Tempest was beginning to feel quite flustered. "I'm just a bit… surprised. You do understand why I am having some trouble believing this isn't a prank-"
"It's not," said Malfoy.
"Wouldn't be a very good one if it was," said Tempest.
"Right," said Malfoy impatiently. "Look, it was a simple yes or no question, so-"
"What question?"
"This is the fourth time I've asked if you would go to the ball with me, Potter, it's getting a bit-"
"Yes," said Tempest.
"What?"
"My answer was simpler than your question," said Tempest with a hint of a laugh. "That sorted… I hope you can dance."
"I can," said Malfoy. "That's not a problem."
"Brilliant," said Tempest. "I suppose I'll see you on the day then."
And they both turned and walked away.
"How was the library?"
Tempest scoffed, seating herself beside George and making sure Hermione wasn't around. "I was never going there. I went to the Owlrey instead," she said, "what's up with Ron?"
She nodded over at Ron's despondent expression. George laughed. "He's bemoaning the fact that he still doesn't have a date for the ball. I think he pissed off Hermione though, something about not realizing she was available."
"A bit dense, our Ron," said Tempest laughing. "It'd be ideal if he and Hermione went together- with me out of the equation, they have the perfect excuse."
"You're out of the equation?" asked George.
"Yeah, I'm going with someone…" Tempest had to pause to remind herself she wasn't hallucinating. She was going to the ball with Malfoy. "Sorry, I remember you wanted to talk about something? Was it Bagman?"
George took a long time in replying. "No… yes, it was… doesn't matter now though, things have changed."
Tempest looked around at him. "Oh?"
George shook his head. "Fred and I chose to take a different approach. I thought my timing would be perfect, but… I guess not."
Tempest thought George sounded rather resentful, but there was little she could do. She shrugged and let it go.
Christmas continued to approach at a sedate pace, and the Hogwarts staff continued to demonstrate a desire to impress their visitors, determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up, Tempest noticed that they were the most stunning she had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles were attached to the banisters of the marble staircase, and the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls.
Hermione and Ron had had a falling out, though Ron remained oblivious to why, and Hermione refused to talk about it.
In the unusual place of being the mediator, Tempest went about as usual, well, as much as she could while still being approached with requests to go to the ball. It meant word hadn't gotten out of who she was going with, which meant Malfoy too was keeping his trap shut.
Tempest had taken to watching him lately. She couldn't help it. She couldn't puzzle out why he had asked her to the ball, was quite confused about her own response. Staring at the back of his blonde head didn't help much, but it did make her feel as though she were making some effort to reason it out.
The thing was, Tempest had no obligation to go to the ball with Malfoy. She could approach him at any time and call it all off. It wasn't as though she was starved for other, more arguably appealing options.
Cedric Diggory had approached her after a History of Magic class, and Tempest, who was still in a daze, hadn't realized he was talking to her until he waved a hand in front of her face.
"Hi Tempest."
Cedric was wearing an easy smile, and Tempest offered him a quirk of her lips in return.
"Oh, hi," she replied, "sorry, just… History of Magic, you know-"
He laughed, white teeth flashing. "I do. If it were anyone but Binns… you're doing goblin revolutions at the moment, aren't you?"
"The arguably tragic sudden death of General Blago, who could've single-handedly won the revolution had he lived a week longer-" Tempest trailed off, "Merlin preserve me."
Cedric laughed again and as the crowd of people passing between lessons thinned, he looked back down at Tempest, "I did want to talk to you about something," he said, "I've been thinking for a while, and recently I was wondering if you'd go to the ball with me?"
Ah.
Tempest opened her mouth, frowned, and closed it again.
This was a bit awkward.
For Tempest would be lying if she said she wasn't tempted. Cedric was good enough company, he got along with everyone, and it made sense to go together. They were both champions and it would be a good show of inter-house unity. Nor did he come with all of inconvenient confusion that Malfoy caused.
A sudden flood of students coming out late from a class jostled her and Cedric enough that they had to flatten against a wall, and it broke the too-long pause that had stretched past his question.
"Thanks," said Tempest, when she could, "thanks for thinking of me, but uh, I'm already going with someone else."
"Oh!" said Cedric, his anticipatory look clearing. He didn't look put out, instead, curious. "Right, I didn't know."
"No," agreed Tempest. "But I do, er, appreciate you asking me… it was really nice."
"No worries," said Cedric easily, and he gave Tempest a quick smile, "hey, I'll see you around then, Tempest."
Tempest said goodbye and Cedric strode off. Tempest stared after him for a bit, then turned and slammed into someone else.
"Ah, sorry," said Tempest, straightening herself and the girl.
It was Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker she had flown against in third year. She combed hair out of her face, apologizing the whole while.
"It's fine," said Tempest, giving the contents of her bag a quick check to ensure none of her inkbottles had smashed. "In a hurry?"
"A bit," said Cho, seeming a bit flustered, "I was… have you seen Cedric around?"
Tempest raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, he just left- did you want him for something?"
"He said he wanted to talk this morning," said Cho, "I got held up by Flitwick though, and I missed seeing him. I don't want him to think I left him hanging, so I just thought I'd see-"
"He just rounded that corner," said Tempest, "if you run, you'll catch him."
Cho said a hasty thank you, and rushed off.
Tempest went to dinner, where Ron was mysteriously absent, and she settled down next to Hermione. Throughout dinner, Tempest found her gaze drifting over to the Slytherin table. Malfoy sat on his own, reading a letter propped up against his goblet. Further down the table, Crabbe and Goyle sat together, talking boisterously.
Tempest hadn't seen Malfoy with his cronies lately, and she wondered who he spent time with these days. Himself? Perhaps he was going through a period of self-discovery. Who was she to judge?
Cedric and Cho came in to dinner together, both sitting down at the Ravenclaw table, though Tempest's view was temporarily blocked by Fleur Delacour, who swept by them to sit further up the table.
Again Tempest found her attention captured by the movement of Fleur's shining hair. It reminded her of…
"You done?"
Hermione was getting to her feet, looking at Tempest expectantly.
"Yeah," Tempest downed the dregs of her tea and the pair of them walked up to the common room together. Upon entering, they saw, to their surprise, that Ron was sitting ashen-faced in a distant corner. Ginny was sitting with him, talking to him in a low, soothing voice.
"You weren't at dinner," said Hermione, entering through the portrait hole after Tempest.
"Ron asked Fleur Delacour to the ball," said Ginny in a very restrained voice, patting Ron sympathetically on the arm. She was fighting back a smile.
"I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped. "What was I playing at? There were people- all around- I'd gone mad- everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall- she was standing there talking to Diggory- and it sort of came over me- and I asked her!" Ron moaned and put his face in his hands. He kept talking, though the words were barely understandable. "She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then- I dunno- I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."
"Ah." Tempest crossed the room to give Ron a sympathetic pat on the leg. "Well… er, if it helps… er…" She paused and grimaced. "She's likely turned down a lot of other guys?"
"This is mad," said Ron. "We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone- well, expect Neville." He looked up at Hermione, "he asked you earlier today, didn't he?"
Hermione had been making to walk past them to go to bed, but she stopped and set her bag down. "Yes, he was perfectly lovely," she began, turning red, "but I'm already going with someone."
This was news to Tempest.
"No you're not!" scoffed Ron loudly, "you just said it to get rid of Neville!"
"Oh did I?" said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"
Ron stared at her. Then he grinned. "Neville was right- Hermione, you can go with me!"
"No I can't," said Hermione, very angrily, "I've already told you, I'm going with someone else, Ron!" And she stormed off toward the girls' dormitories.
"She's lying," said Ron flatly, watching her go.
"She's not," said Ginny quietly.
"Who is it then?" said Ron sharply.
"I'm not telling you, it's her business," said Ginny.
"Right," said Ron, who looked extremely irritated, "this is getting stupid. Tempest, we'll just go together, it'll be all right, we can have a laugh-"
Tempest rolled back on the balls of her feet. "Thing is Ron," she said, unable to mask the feeling that Hermione was completely justified in her anger, "I'm already going with someone too."
Ron looked even more put out. "Oh of course, you're going with George. He might've said-"
"It's not George," said Tempest quietly.
"Who then?" demanded Ron.
Tempest looked at Ron and attempted to envision a world where she said the word 'Malfoy,' and Ron didn't have a fit. She couldn't.
"I think I'll join Hermione, actually," said Tempest, sidestepping Ron. "G'night, Ginny."
Up in their dormitory, the curtains around Hermione's bed were already drawn, and the entire room was silent save for the crackle of the fire in the grate. Unlike Ron, Tempest knew how to take a hint.
On Christmas morning when Tempest woke up, she became very aware of someone standing on her back. With a garbled exclamation Tempest rolled over, shoving whatever was on her back off and coming face to face with a pair of huge luminous eyes which belonged to…
"Dobby!" Tempest yelled, as Nyx (who had been curled up comfortably on Tempest's feet) hissed, and Tempest grabbed handfuls of her blankets, drawing them up around her against the morning chill. "These are the girl's dorms!"
Dobby blinked at Tempest, looking appropriately penitent. "Dobby is sorry, miss!" Dobby squeaked, hopping backwards, his long fingers clutching at something behind his back. "Dobby only was wanting to wish Tempest Potter a 'Merry Christmas' and give her a present miss!"
Tempest swallowed, her eyes adjusting to the near pitch darkness. "Urgh, Dobby it's fine… Just, poke me or something, don't stand on my back."
She pulled open the curtains around her four-poster and saw Hermione, Lavender and Pravati sitting up and rubbing at their eyes, having been woken at her yell. They peered at her and Dobby through their own hangings around their beds.
"You all right Tempest?" asked Hermione, "Hello Dobby."
"I'm fine Hermione, you can go back to sleep," muttered Tempest.
Lavender mumbled something and fell facedown into her pillow, while Hermione and Pravati decided to get up and start opening presents.
Tempest turned back to Dobby, who was still standing awkwardly on Tempest's bed, looking worried that he had upset her. "Can Dobby give Tempest Potter her present?" he squeaked tentatively.
"'Course," said Tempest, "you really didn't have to, I wasn't expecting anything-"
"It is Dobby's pleasure, miss!"
"Mmm… hey, I got you something too… uh…" Tempest hung over the edge of her bed, fishing about in her trunk. Finally, she emerged triumphant with a mismatched pair of socks- one a fluffy purple caterpillar and the other knitted with thick black and yellow stripes. "Sorry- I didn't wrap them, but-"
"No, no, Dobby is loving them, miss- the mere thought that miss would think of Dobby-"
Tempest's eyes widened, horrified as Dobby's eyes began to well up with giant tears. "Don't- it was really no trouble and I knew you liked socks most-"
"Dobby does miss, thank you!" He pulled off his own socks and pulled on the new ones, beaming tearfully.
"Wow- Tempest! This is amazing!"
Tempest looked over to Hermione, who had just opened Tempest's present. It was a small picture frame with a blank canvas, but as Hermione held it, ink spilled across the white until figures formed. A much younger Hermione was bundled up in a thick coat and mittens, skating on ice before it morphed into a sketch of an evening in the common room.
"How did you manage to charm the memories to appear?"
Tempest grinned at her. "That would be telling. I'm glad you like it."
When Hermione had returned to unwrapping presents, Dobby handed Tempest a small package, which she tore open to reveal… socks. "Dobby is making them himself, miss!" the elf said happily. "He is buying the wool out of his wages miss!"
Tempest was touched that Dobby had used his money and time to make her socks. She pulled them on (they were very warm and comfortable). The left sock had an image of a large dragon, and the right sock had a patched cat stitched onto it.
"Thanks Dobby, they're great!" said Tempest, causing Dobby's eyes to leak with happiness.
"Dobby must go now, miss, we is already making Christmas dinner in the kitchens!" said Dobby, and he hurried out of the girl's dormitory, waving goodbye to Hermione and the others as he passed.
Tempest decided to unwrap her other presents and was surprised to see the size of that year's pile. She had gotten a huge bag of Zonko's products from Fred and George, along with some of their joke shop prototypes. Amongst her haul was a beautiful snow-globe with a miniature model of Hogsmeade inside, a book on Quidditch throughout the ages, a huge box of Honeydukes sweets from Hagrid. Minnie had gifted Tempest a massive tin of her favourite blend of Earl Grey. Hermione had bought her a new pair of dragon-skin gloves and a book on dragons, while Mrs. Weasley's usual package held a new knitted sweater and a large amount of homemade mince pies.
The last two packages Tempest set aside. They were both accompanied by letters, which Tempest flipped open to read first. Remus wrote briefly about Tempest's performance in the First Task, wished her a happy Christmas, and a mysterious line at the end, mentioning how they would be seeing each other soon. He had sent her a golden snitch, threaded through a slim silver chain.
'I was hunting around my flat, and I found this. James stole it in our fifth year and I thought you might like it.'
Tempest slung the chain around her neck and held the snitch up to the light, watching the tiny wings flutter slightly.
Sirius' letter expressed similar sentiments, and his gift was a pocketknife with hundreds of attachments that could open any lock to undo any knot.
Tempest went down to breakfast with Hermione and George proceeded to steal her toast. They spent most of the morning in Gryffindor Tower, after which lunch was magnificent, including at least a hundred turkeys, Christmas puddings and large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers.
They went out onto the grounds in the afternoon. The snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. Hermione chose to watch Tempest and the Weasleys' snowball fight rather than join in, and at five o'clock waded through the battlefield to seize Tempest's arm and announce they were going back upstairs to get ready for the ball.
"What, you need three hours?" said Ron, looking at them incredulously and paying for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, hit him hard on the side of the head. "Who're you going with?" he yelled after them both, but Hermione just waved and left, towing Tempest behind her.
"Honestly, Hermione," protested Tempest, "I don't need three hours to get ready. It'd take me two minutes to get changed into my dress robes-"
Tempest was wrong.
Apparently there were many aspects to her appearance that required alteration. Hermione had enlisted Lavender's talents to help them prepare, and Tempest, who had no earthly idea what was happening, allowed herself to be maneuvered into a chair to endure while Lavender tugged at her hair and flapped about with brushes and paste.
Tempest had no idea what she looked like after an hour of the fussing, nor did she care anymore- as long as she looked half-way presentable, she would deem it a success.
"Okay!" Hermione said cheerfully, startling Tempest out of her stupor. "All done with your hair!"
"Hmmm?" Tempest looked up and glanced around. "Where'd Lavender go?"
"She finished getting ready and left a while ago to meet Dean," Hermione filled in, "now stand up- you've got to put on your dress robes."
"Right, thanks." Tempest got to her feet stiffly and grabbed at the dress robes lying on her bed. She ducked into the bathroom and changed quickly. It was the first time she'd put on the dress that Minnie had bought her. Unsurprisingly, it fit perfectly. The dress fell to Tempest's feet, loose and light enough that she wouldn't trip. The blue was an inoffensive shade, and Tempest had always liked silver.
She wasn't comfortable, but, thought Tempest, as she tugged at the length of the dress, it wasn't half bad.
Feeling quite unlike herself, Tempest inspected herself in the bathroom mirror.
Whatever Lavender and Hermione had done… they had done it well. Her hair had been tamed, sleeked down so it moved and shifted around her face in graceful waves, held back with a twist of silver cord. They'd done a fine job of masking her scar, and after a minute of scrutiny, Tempest decided she didn't dislike it.
She emerged from the bathroom to find Hermione's appearance similarly altered. Her hair was twisted up into an elegant knot.
"Ready?" asked Tempest, eying Hermione's pale blue dress and the shoes that she was balancing precariously in. Her eyes alighted on the second pair of shoes dangling from Hermione's hand.
"You didn't think you could go barefoot, did you?"
Tempest groaned.
They were two of the first ready, and the common room only held Lavender and Dean, who were talking quietly in a corner. Lavender looked very pretty in robes of a pale green.
"I've got to meet someone," said Hermione, turning to Tempest and looking suddenly nervous. "I'll see you in the Great Hall?"
"Sure," said Tempest, and watched as Hermione hurried off.
Now this was a problem.
She hadn't spoken to Malfoy since he'd asked her to the ball, and she had no idea where they would meet. Hell, she hadn't the faintest idea what had been crossing his mind when he asked, and what if he had had second thoughts and she would be left partnerless?
Tempest set off for the Slytherin common room. The walk to the dungeons took longer than it would have in normal, reasonable shoes, but every step she took in these shoes had her wobbling precariously. They were borrowed from Lavender, and Tempest appreciated the gesture, but her feet were mostly hidden beneath her dress, so why had her boots been deemed unacceptable?
She felt increasingly foolish as she hurried along, a nervous feeling twisting in her gut. This was stupid. She shouldn't have said yes to Malfoy- what had she been thinking? Gods, if he had lied about pranking her, jolly well done, because she had no alternative... she thought wildly of George and wondered if he'd found a partner- why had she not thought of him sooner? He would've been ideal- Cedric too-
Tempest founded a corner and almost ran into Malfoy.
She tripped on the hem of her dress and had to clutch at the wall for balance.
"Potter," said Malfoy. He sounded shocked.
"Malfoy," greeted Tempest, righting herself.
He was dressed in velvet dress robes with a high collar and looked rather like a vicar. His blonde hair was arranged neatly though.
"You look-"
"Ridiculous, I know," said Tempest, "I can't hardly stand-"
"-very nice."
"Ah." Tempest shuffled, wobbled, and regretted it.
"Flattered," she said, feeling her cheeks heat. "I was heading to... er-" She paused, staring at Malfoy. "You're here."
"Yes," he said, "I was just going to your common room." When Tempest failed to reply, he cleared his throat. "I wasn't sure where to meet, so-"
"Here is fine," said Tempest, glancing down the Charms corridor. She felt more absurd than ever.
"Well then… Shall we?"
Tempest glanced at the arm Malfoy offered her and hooked her arm through his. It felt incredibly strange. She could feel the faint warmth of his body against her bare arm through the fabric. On their walk to the entrance hall, Tempest had to grip his arm tighter than she would have liked, for balance.
Malfoy said nothing the whole walk there and neither did Tempest. They were about to step past the doors that would lead into the entrance hall when Malfoy said suddenly, "I'd like it if we could be... if we could get along. Even if it's just for tonight."
Tempest looked up at his profile, which stared rigidly off at some point ahead of him. "Sure," she said. "If you think we can manage it."
"I'll do my best," said Malfoy.
Tempest nodded and sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Same. In we go then."
They walked into the entrance hall.
The mass of students crowded in the hall and the general excitement meant that no one noticed Tempest and Malfoy at first. It was a change from the usual sea of black robes to find students clothed in every shade imaginable. The oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the party, accompanied by… Tempest blinked after the pair as they passed. It was Hermione, who caught Tempest's eye and gave a nervous smile.
Tempest felt an incredulous grin spreading across her face.
Minnie's voice called, "Champions over here, please!"
Tempest and Malfoy made their way towards Minnie, the chattering crowd parting to let them through, and Tempest could tell the exact moment they realized whom exactly she was with. The chatter didn't die down, if anything, it amplified, and she caught a great many comments- "Is that Potter and Malfoy?" and, "but I thought they hated each other!"
Minnie was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat. She told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside. They were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur was with Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, and they stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Cho Chang accompanied Cedric, and Tempest nodded to them in greeting. Krum and Hermione were standing closest to her and Malfoy, and Hermione beamed at Tempest.
"Hi, Tempest!" she said, her eyes then falling immediately to Malfoy. "Er… Draco?"
"Granger," replied Malfoy.
Hermione seemed unable to find further words. When Malfoy looked away, Hermione stared very hard at Tempest and mouthed- "what?"
Tempest shrugged.
The eight of them waited there by the doors as the rest of the school filed through into the Great Hall, and during that time, both Hermione and Tempest were subject to looks of both disbelief and loathing- mostly on Hermione's part. She was the one who was going with the Quidditch star. In the face of that, Tempest seemed to go unnoticed, other than by Pansy Parkinson who stared outright at her and Malfoy as she passed, gaping and dumbstruck.
Ron walked straight by them without looking at Tempest or Hermione once.
Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Minnie told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. Putting one heeled foot unsteadily before the other, Tempest began to do so.
"I'd suggest you smile," said Malfoy, very quietly.
"Why?" said Tempest. She noticed Malfoy was smiling, a faint thing that she'd never seen on his face before. She attempted to replicate the expression on her own.
"You looked like a block of ice," said Malfoy.
Tempest gave a short, restrained laugh. "Yeah, thanks, I feel a bit like one." She concentrated very hard on not stumbling. Malfoy was tall enough that her grip on his arm looked natural. Her bare shoulder brushed against his clothed upper arm, and Tempest continued to focus on her steps.
Everyone in the Great Hall had applauded as they entered and continued to do so as they walked up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.
The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.
Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table. His eyes lingered on Malfoy and Tempest and strangely, his expression became more satisfied. When Tempest looked again, Dumbledore had turned his gaze on Hermione and Krum. Karkaroff did not share his sentiments. He wore an expression of mild distaste as Krum and Hermione drew nearer. Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. Mr. Crouch was absent, Tempest noted. In his place sat Percy Weasley.
When the champions and their partners reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Tempest.
"Percy," greeted Tempest as she sat. She unslung her arm from Malfoy's, very aware of his presence as he sat at her side, unfolding his napkin and straightening his cuffs.
"Hello Tempest," said Percy, who was dressed in new navy blue dress robes and wearing a smug smile that only wavered when his gaze crossed Malfoy. "…Malfoy."
"Weasley," said Malfoy without inflection.
Percy, after shooting Malfoy a wary look, turned to Tempest. "I've been promoted!" he said, which explained the smug look, "I'm now Mr Crouch's personal assistant, and I'm here representing him."
"He still calling you Weatherby?" asked Tempest.
Percy glared at her. "Mr Crouch is a very important man, and he has a lot on his mind."
"That why he isn't here tonight?" Tempest asked.
Percy stiffened haughtily, "I'm afraid to say Mr Crouch isn't well, not well at all. He hasn't been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising: overwork. He's not as young as he was- though still quite brilliant, of course; the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry-" Tempest decided to ignore the pointed look Percy shot Malfoy, and kept her eyes on the third Weasley boy. "-and then Mr Crouch suffered a great personal shock with the misbehaviour of that house-elf of his, Blinky, or whatever she was called."
"Winky," sighed Tempest.
"Yes, that… In any case, he dismissed her afterward of course, but- well, as I say, he's getting on, needs looking after and I think he's found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left. And then we had the tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the Cup to deal with- that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around- no, poor man, he's having a well-earned, quiet Christmas. I'm glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place."
As Percy turned to talk to Maxime- something about safety regulations of her flying horses and gigantic carriage, Tempest looked up and saw Hermione in an animated conversation with Krum. They were getting along very well, as were Cedric and Cho, much less than could be said for Fleur and Roger Davis, who merely watched her with a dazed expression and failed basic hand-mouth coordination.
After selecting Yorkshire pudding with a side of roast potatoes from the menu, Tempest dug in, while Malfoy cut into some delicate fish dish.
"So," said Tempest, using her knife and fork very carefully beside Malfoy's easy handling of his own cutlery. Malfoy had likely been trained since childhood to sit tidily and look polished at all times. He did a good job of it. "How's your Christmas been so far?"
"Good." replied Malfoy. "A bit different. I'm usually at home for Christmas. How has yours been?"
"Quite good," said Tempest, "I usually spend Christmas at Hogwarts, so it's about the same… Professor Lupin sent me this-" Tempest nodded downwards at the snitch she was still wearing. It went well with her dress; far more suited to her than the things other students had draped themselves with. "We've stayed in touch," she answered Malfoy's unspoken question. "It used to be my dad's apparently… Did you get anything particularly special?"
"A firebolt," said Malfoy, "amongst other things. A bit belated perhaps-"
"It's not a competition," said Tempest disbelievingly. "I did beat you last year-" she smirked, unable to keep the expression from her face, "I like to chalk that up to skill though. Brooms aside, you did come close to catching the snitch yourself."
Perhaps Malfoy recognized the concession for what it was for the look he shot her over his plate was almost teasing. "Hardly the advertisement Spudmore would use for his shining glory," he said drolly. "Barely enough to bridge the gap between talents."
"Implying-"
"Implying exactly what you think."
Tempest found herself grinning over at Malfoy. "Just so we know where we stand."
"Of course," said Malfoy, "those positions have never been clearer."
"Clear as mud."
They continued to eat in silence for a fair while, until Tempest was done and Malfoy was just about. He felt very different from the Malfoy she was familiar with, and altogether unfamiliar territory. He seemed… comfortable. While Tempest felt clumsy and on display, Malfoy looked utterly unconcerned. She made an active effort to stop hunching and stopped fiddling with her fork. Her leg began bouncing instead.
"So, the uh… Weird Sisters," said Tempest, "have you heard much of their stuff?"
"A bit," Malfoy said, setting his knife down. "Mother isn't as much of a admirer of theirs- she prefers French singers… Edith Paif is one of her favorites-"
"Oh of course," said Tempest, completely unsurprised. "I've heard some of her stuff, er, non, je ne regret re?"
"Non, Je ne regrette rien," corrected Malfoy, wincing at Tempest's mangling of the title. "Do you speak French?"
"Not in the slightest," replied Tempest, "if that wasn't immediately obvious- I just like the sound of the French turning the 'r' sound into a dictionary length recital. You speak it, don't you?"
"Un peu, pas assez pour faire quelque chose," said Malfoy smoothly.
"Mon dieu."
"Seigneur," corrected Malfoy.
Tempest snorted and leant back in her chair. "I've always thought the French were smug frogs, I see the proof here before me."
"I wouldn't say all the French," protested Malfoy, "just the Parisians. A side effect of living in Paris."
"And where in France do you vacation?"
Malfoy fell damningly silent.
Tempest laughed, and was caught off guard by Dumbledore standing up, motioning for the students to do the same. As she and Malfoy stood, Dumbledore waved his wand and all the tables zoomed back along the walls, leaving the floor clear. He then conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall.
The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Tempest noticed that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and the other champions and their partners were moving forwards.
"Potter," hissed Malfoy, "you might want to move."
Malfoy's hand caught around her wrist, and they walked onto the brightly lit dance floor while the Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune. Tempest wound up facing Malfoy, standing very close to each other, and the next moment, Malfoy had slung one of her arms over his neck, clasped the other in his, and the pair of them began stepping in time.
Tempest blinked downwards as her feet automatically followed his- they were moving around, covering a small enough area that Tempest wasn't struggling to keep her footing, and after a moment, she relaxed minutely.
"So your etiquette classes," said Tempest quietly, ensuring she kept her eyes fixed on Malfoy. Outside of their little bubble, there was a hall filled with students watching them. "Learning the proper use of a full ten set of cutlery... dancing lessons... They take up much of your childhood?"
Malfoy was very much mirroring her, head ducked lower than usual, and eyes unwaveringly on hers. His hand was resting lightly on her lower back. "Classes sound limited. I suppose it was bred into me."
"Who taught you to dance?" asked Tempest, expecting the answer to run along the lines of a private tutor.
"My father," said Malfoy.
"Well you're very good," said Tempest, "very… accommodating."
It really wasn't as bad as Tempest had thought the ball would be. In fact, she would even say that she was enjoying herself. Other students were now coming onto the dance floor. Tempest could see Ginny and Neville together, Minnie doing a two-step with a reluctant looking Snape.
"I was thinking," said Malfoy as they rotated towards the edge of the dance floor, "Paif- the woman who regrets nothing, your song choice… would you say it called to you for a particular reason?"
Tempest laughed. "I have regrets Malfoy. I'm hardly going to unburden all to you though. One dance does not create openness or trust, or confidence."
The final, quavering note of the bagpipe faded, and the pair of them came to a halt. A new song began, which was much faster.
"Well then," said Malfoy. "Another?"
Tempest gave a wry smile. "Yeah, all right."
She managed for the next few minutes, the pair of them maneuvering around the dance floor, passing Krum and Hermione at one point, the other pair looking they were enjoying themselves very much. Fred and Angelina had created a wide space around them that people were giving a wild berth to avoid being pummeled by failing limbs as they danced.
Eventually the music became such that Tempest couldn't manage in her shoes anymore, and perhaps Malfoy noticed her struggle because he nodded without comment when she muttered a suggestion for a break.
As Tempest went with Malfoy from the dance floor, she passed by George who was twirling a girl from Beauxbatons.
"All right, mate?" he called.
"Yeah," said Tempest, "I'm going to get a drink with-" she nodded over at Malfoy.
George's eyes narrowed at Malfoy, but the Beauxbatons girl reclaimed his attention and Tempest headed over to the drinks table.
Drinks in hand, Tempest glanced around for a place to sit. She saw Ron alone, brooding at a table and decided against joining him. Now they were off the dance floor, she and Malfoy were attracting no fewer stares, and Tempest grimaced. "Want to go outside?"
"Sure."
It was quite chilly outside, turning Tempest's skin instantly to gooseflesh, but she welcomed the change, leaning back against the frigid stone of the castle wall. Snow was falling softly, a slowly thickening layer coating the grass and dusting the steps that would lead back into the castle. The bushes in the rose garden were filled with fairies, twinkling brightly.
"Thanks," said Malfoy after several long minutes had passed. At Tempest's questioning look, he elaborated, "for going with me. To this."
Tempest stared at him. "No problem," she said slowly. "It's… it's not half bad, us getting along."
"No, it isn't."
Tempest looked around at the bushes and the tops of the newly conjured statues that stood above the shrubbery. "Fancy a walk?"
They set off along one of the winding paths through the rosebushes. Tempest again had to keep an arm hooked through Malfoy's. There were winding paths and interesting statues of magical creatures throughout. They passed by other people who were sitting on carved benches, and here and there they would pass by a rosebush, curiously devoid of fairies and quivering suspiciously.
Tempest raised her eyebrows at Malfoy, and bit back a smile at his deadpan expression.
The air was cold, and Tempest wasn't wearing very much, so it was inevitable that Malfoy would feel her shiver.
"Do you want to go back inside?"
"No." Tempest thought of Ron's sulking and the watchful eyes of the rest of the school. "I will endure. I fought off a dragon, Malfoy, if you hadn't noticed. I can stand for it to be a bit chilly."
"I did notice," said Malfoy quietly. "Very impressive."
Tempest attempted not to preen. It was difficult.
"Your dismount was less so."
Tempest's eyes narrowed. "I knew enjoying your company was unsustainable."
The pause that lingered after her words stretched for longer than Tempest expected, and she looked at Malfoy oddly.
"Would you want to find out if it can?" said Malfoy. "Be sustainable, I mean."
There were many things Tempest could have said. There were many thoughts that were crossing her mind. She had questions too, and no small amount.
"Sure," she said instead. "We could go flying."
She blames the cold for the strange sensation in her gut as Malfoy gives her a tentative smile.
Which is of course the moment that Snape and Karkaroff round the corner, talking in low voices.
"Draco," barked Snape immediately. "Potter," he added a moment later. "What are you two doing?"
"Strolling," said Tempest defensively. "Not a bad place for it."
To Snape's credit, his eyes flickered only once between the pair of them, and he jerked his head roughly. "Keep strolling then," he snapped.
"Yessir."
She slipped by with Malfoy, who she turned back to when she thought they had put enough distance between them and the professors. "Draco?"
"My given name, yes" said Malfoy mildly. At Tempest's unimpressed look, he elaborated, "Severus- I should say, Professor Snape, is my godfather. He and my father are close friends."
Oh of course. Certainly there were no other options than for the man who had lost Remus his job to be close with the man who had almost cursed her alone in a corridor. It was as if Tempest hadn't enough reminders of the line in the sand and Malfoy's placement, very firmly, on the other side of it.
"Sirius Black is my godfather," she returned instead.
Malfoy's expression barely changed. "You seem to be less… upset about it than at the start of this year."
Tempest's mouth dried.
"You might want to work on that."
It seemed to be a day of surprises. "I have a mass murdering psychopathic bastard for a godfather," she tried from behind gritted teeth.
"Better," said Malfoy. "Try it without seeming so pleased though."
Tempest shivered overdramatically and steered the conversation bodily away from Sirius. "It's fucking freezing."
Malfoy, to his credit, not for the first time that night, made no comment, and the pair of them made their way back to the castle. They passed by Fleur Delacour and Roger Davis, both of whom were crowded in a rosebush, very busily aquatinting themselves. They had just reached a large stone reindeer when they heard raised voices.
"'ow dare you!" shrieked a voice quickly revealed to be Maxime.
Tempest rounded the reindeer to catch a glimpse of Hagrid and Maxime, seized Malfoy's arm and wrenched him backwards out of sight.
"I 'ave nevair been more insulted in my life! 'Alf-giant? Moi? I 'ave- I 'ave big bones!"
Tempest continued to retreat, dragging Malfoy behind her. Maxime had likely stormed off. There were great swarms of disturbed fairies rising from the bushes in her wake.
"Did you know?" said Malfoy, quickly matching Tempest's rapid pace, a light in his eyes that Tempest automatically disliked.
"Know what?"
"Know that the pair of them were half giants?"
Hagrid really was an incomprehensible idiot. The gardens were not a private setting. They hadn't needed to hear the entire conversation yet the spirit of it was perfectly clear. And of all the people to overhear, she was with Malfoy.
"Haven't the faintest idea what you mean," said Tempest sharply. "And neither do you. Are we clear?"
Malfoy shrugged. "Fine."
"Good."
It took them longer to reach the castle, and they spent the walk in a tense silence, Tempest again questioning her choice of partner for the night. But she had enjoyed herself. Malfoy wasn't bad company. If he just wasn't… most of what he was.
Back in the Great Hall, Hermione and Krum were still dancing; Fred and George were sitting at a table, though George seemed slightly resentful as Fred had most of his attention focused on Angelina. He was pelting Fred with nuts in revenge.
Maxime was in the Hall as well, sitting alone at the judges' table, looking very somber.
When Malfoy offered to dance again, Tempest accepted. They made mild, meaningless talk as they stayed quite close to each other on the dance floor. Their topics ranged from Quidditch to the Ministry of Magic's auror policies to Ilvermorny's status amongst other wizarding schools. Malfoy was a great conversation partner, and it made Tempest wonder then, why for so long he persisted in saying idiotic things.
The rest of the night passed pleasantly, and when the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight, Tempest found herself wishing the night could stretch on longer.
Still, she bid Malfoy a farewell off to the side of the Great Hall with honest thanks for the night.
"You won't need my help up those stairs?" asked Malfoy, nodding towards the marble staircase.
Tempest gave his arm a parting pat. "I think I'll manage."
Malfoy paused. "I'll see you around, Potter?"
Tempest smiled briefly. "Merry Christmas, Malfoy."
She was halfway up the stairway when she heard a voice calling her name.
"Hey- Tempest!"
It was Cedric, and Tempest turned and waited as Cedric ran up the stairs to her.
"Cedric," said Tempest, "what can I do you for?"
"I'm returning a favour," said Cedric, stopping a step below Tempest and leaning in closer. "Listen. You know your golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?"
"Yes."
"Well… take a bath, okay?"
Tempest frowned at him. "I'm really more of a shower person to be honest-"
"No," said Cedric with a breathless laugh, "no, just take a bath, and er- take the egg with you, and… just mull things over in the hot water. It'll help you think. Trust me."
Tempest arched an incredulous eyebrow.
"Tell you what," Cedric said, "use the prefects' bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password's 'pine fresh.' Gotta go... want to say good night-" He grinned at Tempest and hurried back down the stairs to where Tempest could see Cho waiting.
Tempest continued her trek back to Gryffindor Tower. Take a bath? And in the prefect's bathroom no less? Utterly confused and adding the strange advice to the list of odd happenings in her life, Tempest reached the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was asleep and Tempest had to rap hard on the frame and yell 'Fairy lights' before she woke up.
She climbed into the common room and found Ron and Hermione in the middle of a blazing row. Standing ten feet apart, they were bellowing at each other, each scarlet in the face.
"Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?" yelled Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger.
"Oh yeah?" Ron yelled back. "What's that?"
"Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!"
Ron mouthed soundlessly as Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the girls' staircase to bed. Ron turned to look at Tempest.
"Well," he sputtered, looking thunderstruck, "well- that just proves- completely missed the point-"
Tempest looked after Hermione, then over at Ron. "And what was your point, precisely?"
Ron opened and closed his mouth several times before spitting out, "Krum!" in a choked sort of voice.
"I thought you liked Krum," said Tempest, easing out of her shoes, then mincing over to the fire on abused feet to stoke the fire.
"I do! Did- but Hermione-" spluttered Ron, "She's fraternizing with the enemy is what she's doing! And you!" He added, "you went with Malfoy!"
"I can see why you'd be against Malfoy," said Tempest, sinking down before the fire with little care for her dress. "But putting a pin in that, why are you mad at Hermione?" She shot Ron a sharp look. "She can do what she likes."
"She should've told me though!"
"Why does she need to?" asked Tempest. "And why would that make you feel better? From where I'm sitting it looks like you're upset she went with anyone and you went alone."
"No- I-" The red slowly faded from Ron's cheeks, and he came around to sit by Tempest by the fire. "I did want to go with her, I just didn't realize she was-"
Available.
The word hung unsaid in the air between them.
"Would you have been pissed off if I had forgotten you were available?" asked Ron.
"Ron, you did forget I was available," snorted Tempest, "and no I didn't really care. It means something different to Hermione though… She's different."
They stared at the fire for a long while.
"Why'd you go with Malfoy?" Ron asked eventually.
"He asked me."
"Lots of people asked you." Ron said, "why'd you go with him?"
"Dunno," said Tempest blankly. "Maybe I was curious. And I don't know why he asked me either, Ron."
Ron looked disturbed and mildly disgusted. "What did you two talk about?" He barely gave time for Tempest to run through their conversations before he had changed his focus. "What did Krum and Hermione talk about?"
"Haven't the faintest." Tempest said. "Hermione looked like she was having fun though. As her friend, you should be glad."
"You looked like you were having fun," said Ron pointedly. "With Malfoy."
"Well what were the better options?" asked Tempest. "It wasn't bad. Still, things will probably go back to normal tomorrow."