Wow, I really got no excuse. I'm so sorry for not updating in a long time but my computer went crazy and erased all the chapters I had written about Book Four and part of Five, and because of that, it's been a hassle to get anything up. So, I stuck to the original idea and made Neville as Anya's date instead of Harry - sorry for the now meaningless poll I put up. And I'm also sorry because it probably will be a while for me to update sooner cause this week is exam week at school and starting from tomorrow, I've got to get in my application for college. Wish me luck!
On another hand, a shout out to AmyRoxx123, KeeperOfTheLostFangirls and Lynn for reviewing and a big hug to those who have just started following Anya's story. Also, I dedicate this chapter to the amazing Mykala Marie, who has mentioned me in her stories - I've really been meaning to thank you but better late than never.
Enjoy!
I waved my arm to catch the trio's attention. Ron, being the tallest, was quick to spot me, and soon the he, Harry and Hermione were walking down the small, covered in snow hill.
"Hi guys!" I said, breathless.
Hermione pointed at the Santa Claus hat I wore. "What is that?" Following her gaze, I touched the Christmas bauble dangling on the end.
I turned serious. "Bauble. What do you think?"
Ron snorted. Hermione obviously tried to not scowl. Keyword being trying, and severely; after all, today was Christmas.
I finally gave in, smiling gently. "Marie's been doing this to everyone. If I were you three, you better watch out for her."
I was not exaggerating. She had pounced on me the moment she saw me, just after tying a ridiculous looking bauble on Dobby's tea cozy, which the elf had worn proudly on his head, his eyes red from crying. He was officially labeled as the first victim.
The list of victims included the Creevey brothers, Professor Flitwick, and a bunch of Beauxbaton's girls. Recently, the Weasley twins had volunteered to look after her, so there was no doubt they probably wore baubles by now.
I still wore mine grudgingly because it was the girl's birthday.
Along with the dress for the Yule Ball, Natasha had sent another package. Judging from the blue and bronze ribbon wrapped around the box, I kind of guessed to whom it was addressed but I still read the note attached to it just to confirm. Imagine my surprise to find out the Emphat was born on Christmas (I thought that only happened to movie characters).
I tightened the Hogwarts colored scarf around my neck. It was Harry's present and it perfectly matched with the old pair of gloves I'd bought at Madam Malkin's years ago. My movement drew Harry's attention to me, and I flushed, trying to not meet his gaze. I still saw his smile widening though.
Fred and George came then. Marie hung between them like a ragdoll, swinging her legs so her boots could not touch the snow. She was laughing at something they said.
"Aw, they there are, Gred!" said one of the twins.
"Right on sight, Forge!" the other agreed. "Milady, we have done our duty. There is not a single scratch on this girl."
"Nor she was injured -"
"- Or maimed -"
"- or any of the sort," they finished together.
Marie giggled.
"No, but I believe you have corrupted her," I said dryly.
They gasped. Fred – or George – put a hand to his chest, right where his heart was.
"I'm outraged, milady! How can you be so bold to accuse us of such?"
"I agree! Do you know what this means, Forge?"
Taking off his red hat (from which a bauble dangled), one twin nodded solemnly. "I do, Gred. I do."
They lowered Marie to the ground. I cautiously stepped back.
That's how the biggest snowball fight ever began
Somehow Neville was the first one to get hit. He was only coming out of the castle when four snowballs hit him right on the face (Harry and the twins weren't in the Quidditch team for nothing) and slid down the snow until he collided with a small boulder. I spent the rest of the game watching out for him; I didn't want Neville to break a leg or something else, not on the very day where he would need all parts intact to dance.
I just hoped he wouldn't end up breaking something on the dance-floor though.
Then James arrived. If I thought he and Marie weren't on speaking terms, I was terribly wrong. The animosity between them could've been cut with a knife. Even Ron, who was oblivious to everything, noticed this and said to me while we were hiding behind a tree, "Blimey, is it me or those two look like they want to finish off the other?" If the ginger was able to get to the bottom of the problem, it was probable I needed a prescription of glasses.
Even so, the fight raged on. The hits became harsher than they should; James actually drew a battle plan to fight against Marie and the Weasley twins. If Neville hadn't threatened to bring the bat – believe me, you don't want to ask what a bat has to do with this – I feared the situation would have turned for the worse.
It was three hours before the Yule Ball officially began when Hermione hauled me to my feet, leaving me on clear view of the enemy line. Although it was expected, I didn't stop gaping at Ron after he threw the snowball at my face.
"Hermione, you're supposed to take my side, not rat me out!" Even though she had only been watching, she had secretly been telling me and Marie whenever one of the boys was hiding nearby.
"Oh, shush! Come on, let's go."
"Go where?" I ask, and then turned around to look at the boys, who had echoed the same question.
"To prepare for the Yule Ball, of course," she said, rolling her eyes as if it were obvious. Looking at my wristwatch, I decided it wasn't.
"But there's still three hours left!" I exclaimed.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "So?"
"So?"
"Lavender and Parvati are already there. They might have taken possession of the bathroom by now!"
"Yeah, you really need three hours?" Ron said, coming to stand between us and pointing. Taking advantage of his distraction, George threw a snowball and hit the side of his head. "Oi!"
"I'm on his side this time," I pointed at him with my thumb. "What are the three hours for?"
Apparently preparing for a Ball was a very delicate process. True to Hermione's word, Lavender and Parvati had already taken ownership of the bathroom. We had to use an air spell to get away all the steam in the room.
Ginny, who had been waiting for us in Hermione's bed, had her hair done beautifully into waves, her ginger hair appearing to look deeply red when the light hit it. Curiously, she was only wearing a pink robe and a pair of heels.
To get the shower, I threatened to burn off Parvati's handmade blanket – which was apparently a family heirloom – and throw Lavender's perfume collection ("They all are from Paris! Where do you think I got them from? Diagon Alley?" she'd said) away if they didn't let us in for ten minutes at least.
The shower was cold and quick. I scrubbed my face so hard it burned slightly and turned red. Wrapped around in a towel and wearing only a pair of white knickers, I met with Ginny at the mirror hanging temporarily above my nightstand. The surface was full with perfume, cosmetics, two hairbrushes, hairbands, hairpins and five bottles of Makeup and Sleekeazy's Hair Potion. When she saw me on the mirror, Ginny lowered the mascara wand and put it away.
"What's that all about?" I pointed at the cosmetics, sounding skeptical.
"You really didn't think we weren't prepared, didn't you?"
"That doesn't answer my question."
The ginger rolled her eyes and stood. She firmly grabbed my shoulders and made me sit on my bed.
"Sit still," she ordered. Grabbing a towel she began to scrub gently under my eyes.
When Hermione came out of her shower, Ginny had just finished putting a peach color eye shadow on my lids and was going to groom my eyebrows to give them shape. Before that, she had covered my face with highlighter and concealer. Silent and with my lips pressed tightly, I watched in mild surprise as Hermione started to do the same process Ginny did, except she took possession of the blue eye shadow.
It shouldn't be a surprise but I couldn't help it. When I admitted to them that I didn't know how to use make up, Hermione had looked at me oddly before asking if Natasha didn't teach me the basics like foundation, concealer or eyeliner. I firstly asked what those were; my knowledge in beauty only came up to dresses and lipsticks.
It was embarrassing to discover most of the girls in my year knew how to apply make-up like professionals, even more so that someone younger like Ginny, who was often surrounded by her brothers, knew what colors to use depending in what are you wearing or which cosmetics were more appropriate for someone's skin. I had to wonder where they learned those things and the only conclusion I came to was that it must have been their mothers who taught them. But Natasha wasn't exactly the bodily representation of a mother figure – she didn't even fill up her job as an Aunt. To me, she'd always been like a scarlet haired fairy godmother who casually had the ability to make things happen with a snap of her fingers.
Did Marie think about her the same way I did? As something ephemeral?
"Done." I didn't look at the mirror. The less I knew, the better. Besides, what if it suddenly started to itch? I didn't want to touch my face and ruin all of Ginny's efforts. "Now what do you want to do with your hair? Up or down? Curly or straight?"
Neither. In the end, she only dried my hair and brushed it back into a messy bun, with one side of my head looking neat and the other with thin braids.
While Ginny went to help Hermione with her hair, I pulled out a red box from under the bed and ran a finger under the lid counterclockwise. The cover came off easily, revealing the champagne, pink fabric of the dress.
I fingered with the first piece of the dress, the darker one that went under the lighter one and resisted the urge to go and show it off in front of Lavender's full length mirror. I carefully put on the dress and slowly moved the zipper on my side. I tried to not think of how well Natasha had guessed on my size as I put on a pair of heels and finally, put the second piece, which reminded me of a large coat with short puffy sleeves with the bottoms on the back.
Even though I did not like the color I couldn't deny that I looked good in pink, more so with the matching make-up and small snowflake shaped earrings Neville gave me as a gift. I tapped my fingers nervously against my thigh as I waited for Hermione and Ginny to finish. The result was more than satisfactory.
In appearance, Ginny looked like the twin sister of the Little Mermaid, but with lazy grin she wore it was more like seeing Poison Ivy for the first time. The green dress, being a hand-me-down from her family, looked just as precious as a new one would, the sequins shining like the water did in the light.
As for Hermione, the smile on her face said more than her looks. She only didn't knew she looked beautiful but my friend believed she was and that radiated from her on waves. Her chiffon dress was a periwinkle blue color and the belt around her waist showed off her hourglass shaped body. Her hair, no longer bushy, was all sleek and tied into an elegant knot above her nape.
The difference between her and me was spectacular. While I knew I was pretty enough to attract idiots, I was very uncomfortable with my own skin. Hermione, who always was overlooked, held herself proudly and balanced on her high heels carefully.
Holding back a jealous frown, I smiled at them.
"You two look spectacular. And I mean it," I added, to Hermione's benefit.
"Have you looked at yourself yet?" the bookworm asked, grinning excitedly. "You look like a princess! I'm pretty sure you will show those Pureblood stuck ups who is in charge – no offense though!"
Ginny waved a hand, grinning. "Don't worry about it. As long as we win over Slytherin, I'm all in."
I let out a shaky breath, smoothing down my dress.
"Ready then?" I asked.
Neville Longbottom was pretty sure he had fallen in love all over again, just as sure as he was that his heart, eventually, would break over a girl, and not just any girl, but the one he considered his best friend.
He could hear them all talking in low voices, crowding to see what was causing the commotion on the stairs. Neville could clearly hear the sneering comments of the girls, the grumbling of the boys and some of them commenting how hot she was. His fists clenched and unclenched at the sound of their voices but he took a deep breath and calmed himself. His hand didn't hurt anymore but the detention with Snape was enough incentive to not land on another detention just after the last one finished.
His breath hitched when Anya came closer, her pink dress riding up to reveal a pair of ballet flats. The smile on her face was just as blinding as her beauty, he thought. But then he saw her eyes focused intently to the left and he followed her gaze. His stomach dropped when he caught sight of Harry looking at Cho Chang, who was beaming up at Cedric Diggory. Neville hurriedly walked over the foot of the stairs but by the time Anya reached him she wasn't smiling anymore.
He cleared his throat, drawing her attention. He flushed when her eyes widened.
"Neville!" Anya said, sounding surprised beyond belief. The smile came at full force, but it wasn't the one he wished belonged only to him. "You look handsome!" Her eyes kept running up and down his figure.
"So do you," Neville said. Backtracking, he began to stammer. "I mean, pretty! You look beautiful, I -"
She laughed. "Calm down. I understand." She reached to tug at her ear and his heart definitely did not soar when he saw she was wearing the earrings. Neville had to man up to ask his Gran for advice and had been more than surprised to receive full support from the woman. The pack of Witch Weekly magazines she sent was hidden on the bottom of his trunk though.
"Ready then?" she asked, puffing out a cheek. She was just as nervous as him, he realized, but the determination in her voice hid it.
He couldn't lie to her. "No."
She bobbed her head. "Okay. Let's just enjoy this and please – don't step on my feet."
James' menacing stare came to mind and Neville nodded vigorously. If he forgot everything the Durmstrang boy taught him through weeks, he knew he wouldn't hear the end of it for a very long time. And Neville didn't want to bring down the baseball bat, not when Professor McGonagall's piercing glare would be on all of them tonight.
James waved his hand on the air, Ginny tugging at his arm as she blushed heavily with the attention he'd drawn to themselves with his shout.
"Stop it!" Ginny insisted. A smile was tugging on her face. "They are already here."
James stopped and looked over at her with a cheeky look. "Really? Because they don't look like the usual pair of brooding friends that usually gang on me 24/7."
"Ha ha." I punched at his shoulder, making him whine. I looked at him with a critical eye, comparing his dark blue suit with the deep red one Viktor was wearing under a furry cape as he led Hermione from the Gryffindor Tower. "I must admit, you don't look bad."
"Ah, have you discovered your hidden attraction for me, Barton?"
"No, I was just complimenting on your wardrobe. Don't expect more niceties from now though."
He pouted, hissing when Ginny hit him on the other shoulder.
"Blimey!"
"Do we go in then?" Neville asked. I cracked my neck from side to side and laced my arm under his.
On cue, Professor McGonagall's voice called, "Champions, over here!"
All the students, except the champions and their partners, were ushered through the Great Hall. Passing Hermione, I gave what I assume (more like hoped) was a reassuring smile.
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.
The four of us choose a table near the top one, joined later by an angry Ron and a sulky Parva – wait no, Padma, I think – Patil. He did a double take when he saw me and huffing, I turned my back on him, hoping he remembered what he said about Neville being dateless.
We all stood when the champions entered, with Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang in the front, followed by Fleur Delacour and the Ravenclaw Captain from the Quidditch team, Viktor Krum and a smiling Hermione, and lastly, by Parvati, who beamed at everyone while she dragged Harry behind her.
My eyes met with his briefly but he looked away, his flushed face turning redder. I slapped my cheek gently when they began to feel hot.
Smiling happily, Professor Dumbledore clapped politely as the Champions began to sit around him. Karkaroff wore the same glum expression as Ron; from his side, Percy Weasley beamed smugly, and on the ginger's left, Ludo Bagman clapped enthusiastically. Lastly, Madame Maxime, whose clothes were always black, had changed into a lavender gown made of silk.
"What's Percy doing over there?" I asked Ginny over the noise. She spared him a single, uninteresting glance, and shrugged, resuming her discussion with James of the different uniforms the current Quidditch teams wore.
There was no food on sight. I peered over my shoulder at the other tables and saw they were on the same state. Finally, I looked at the top one and locked eyes with Dumbledore. He wiggled his eyebrows at the menu he was holding on his hands. I saw him speak, and suddenly, his plate was full of pork chops. Grinning gratefully, I picked up my own menu and asked for chips. The Headmaster winked at my choice of food.
Conversation between the four of us flowed naturally. There wasn't anything to not talk about: Quidditch, the Weird Sisters, funny stories from Neville's family and James' time at Durmstrang were on the top. Fred and George with their respective dates stopped at our table to talk. George – I knew because Fred's date was Angelina – leaned down and whispered, "It's ready."
I nodded. "Good. Luna will bring her down around eleven o'clock."
When most students had already finished eating, Dumbledore applauded, calling our attention and announced that it was time for dancing. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.
I couldn't hold the tiny shout of surprise when I saw the Weird Sisters stepping onto the stage and clapped maniacally, completely ignoring the group looked like something out of The Flintstones.
I was torn between amusement and horror as they began to play a mournful song, which was more proper to a funeral than a dance. From the corner of my eye, I saw Harry tripping over his robes as Parvati dragged him with her. James, Ron and Ginny sniggered while Neville shook his head fondly. Harry looked over at us and the sniggering trio raised their hands, as if they were holding wine glasses, for him. When his eyes met mine again, I only managed a sheepish look and shook my head too.
I frowned when I saw Parvati grabbing both Harry's hands and put one on her waist, the other clutched so tightly on her hand was turning a bit purple.
"Want to dance?" I heard James ask Ginny. She nodded enthusiastically and they both went swiftly to the dance floor, a pair of couples following them.
Neville cleared his throat nervously.
"Um – do you, well – um –"
"Do you want to dance with me?" I asked him. Neville sighed in relief when I freed him from the awkward question.
"Yes, please."
I held onto his hand nervously, wiping the other on my skirts. We headed to the most excluded part of the dance floor, where Parvati pulled Harry from side to side in a sorry attempt to make him guide her.
Looking over my head, Neville put his right hand on my waist while I took hold of the free one with my right. Because I wasn't taller than him, I clutched at the piece of cloth where his shoulder was. At first, we only swayed gently from side to side until the awkwardness began to fade and Neville grew bolder. He silently steered me along the song's sad rhythm, all the while avoiding my face. It was for the better, I thought a little viciously by the fifth time he stepped into my foot.
We stuck to the slow moves, turning slowly when a couple came too near. In one bold twirl, I caught sight of James and Ginny dancing close to the Champions, close to where the Weasley twins twirled their partners without looking away from them. There was a dangerous glint in their eyes that told me James should better not muck up tonight but Ginny was oblivious to this, judging from the smile and flushed state she was.
Neville tapped my shoulder. "Look!" he whispered. He turned me around expertly and without stepping on me; it was quick, but I soon saw what he had pointed at and I began to laugh; it came out so hard I had to lean my head back on his shoulder to not fall. Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime, but he was so dwarfed by her stature his pointed hat – a deep blue with golden stars – barely reached her chin.
With a final quavering note, the Weird Sisters stopped playing, and applause filled the Great Hall. I sighed.
"I'm sorry," said Neville.
"Don't be. I enjoyed myself. You're not half-bad."
"That's because of me," I heard James say behind me. He was still clutching Ginny on his arms. "I mean, for an hour every day you have been stomping my feet, at the expense of my pain, and still not know how to dance?" he shook his head, tutting. "With all my grief, I would've killed you."
Ginny hit his chest. "Don't be so dramatic," she scolded.
"I was just kidding, woman, no need to maim me."
The Weird Sisters struck up a very familiar song, "Do the Hipogriff", and laughing, I began to bounce on my place. I didn't know what kind of moves I was doing or if I looked ridiculous. It all really stopped to matter when Fred, George, Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell joined our little circle. We had to move carefully around them as they moved wildly.
At one point, I noticed Hermione and Ron having a heated argument, with Harry and a Patil twin watching them. It resulted on the bookworm storming through the thick crowd, Ron staring after her with grim satisfaction. A muscle ticked on my cheek and I was about to walk to him when the Weasley twins stepped in front of me.
"I don't know who Maxime thinks she's kidding," Harry said, watching Madame Maxime sitting alone at the judges' table, looking very somber. "If Hagrid's half giant, she definitely is. Big bones... the only thing that's got bigger bones than her is a dinosaur."
Harry wasn't feeling particularly sympathetic towards her when Hagrid pretty much had just professed his love to her. He listened to Ron talk about everything he knew about giants, all the while trying to not look over where Cho and Cedric were dancing. The urge to kick something was only tampered by the rhythm of the song as he bounced his leg, his hands silently drumming on his thighs.
It was a while later there was nothing good to talk about, not even Quidditch seemed to lift up their spirits. He halfheartedly said goodbye to Ron when the redhead left, not straying away from Cho.
He was taken aback by the shadow that fell over him and it only took him a few seconds to realize his view was blocked. Harry looked up, glaring, but blinked when he saw the unamused stare of Anya Barton.
"Enjoying the view?" she asked dryly. He almost told her off but bit his tongue.
"Actually, yeah. Could you move?"
Anya crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. Harry sighed.
"What do you want?"
"Dance with me."
He snorted. "I don't know if you saw me on the floor before, but I'm not exactly good at it."
"No, you were completely terrible. Now, dance with me." She held out her hand. "I won't let you have a bad memory of this, not when I enjoyed the evening It doesn't feel right, less when Hermione and Ron soured their own."
When Harry didn't answer, Anya lifted a finger.
"Just the one?" She smiled endearingly at him. For some reason, Harry felt the back of his neck heat and without a word, he let her guide him to the middle of the dance floor.
'And dance, your final dance. This is your final chance, to hold the one you love...'
Anya wrapped her arms around his neck. Harry awkwardly fidgeted until he placed his hands on her waist. He was suddenly grateful she hadn't worn heels or they would've looked like Dumbledore and Madame Maxime did hours ago.
'You know you've waited long enough.'
He tried to not listen to the song. Harry's mind slowly turned the moment into another, and suddenly, he was not dancing with Anya but with Cho. Her smile was pretty, and she was waving her eyelashes at him, who watched her like the tragic hero he was.
'So, believe that magic works, don't be afraid of being hurt.'
But then he stepped on Anya's foot and the moment went away at the sound of her laugh. Harry's head turned to look down at her but she was hiding her face on his shirt. He saw a line marring her face until it hit him that it wasn't a scar – it was a laugh line.
He stumbled a bit, and this time, he was allowed to see that, in fact, Anya was laughing at his expense, but he could see the dimples that formed with her smile, her eyes shut tightly in delight.
'Don't let this magic die. The answer's there, oh just look in her eyes.'
He was transfixed. Harry had rarely seen his best friend smile and when she did, it was a quiet one. His Aunt Petunia had once brought a magazine of art paintings, gushing about the Mona Lisa, which was going to be on display at an art collection from one of the neighbors. He'd always related Anya with that smile but now that he saw her laughing, it just struck him how pretty she was.
'And make your final move, hmm, don't be scared, she wants you to.'
He was laughing too, he realized. Instead of dancing, they were swaying from side to side, holding each other so they wouldn't fall on their arses and it was ridiculous, the night was ending and he was just having so much fun he didn't notice the song was being repeated, didn't saw the tall boy he disliked strongly smiling at them behind the curtains with a redheaded girl on his side.
'Yeah it's hard, you must be brave, don't let this moment slip away.'
Anya was talking and he too, agreeing with her on just how ridiculous he looked when Parvati practically hauled him through the beginning, yes, Ron's robes clashed horribly with Padma's dress, and yes, Hermione looked like another person.
'And don't believe that magic can die, no, no no, this magic can't die.'
Harry was so engrossed enjoying the time he spent with his friend he didn't notice he had taken her hand and he had wrapped his arm around her waist, twirling her on the spot without worrying about her teasing. It was Anya after all.
'So dance, your final dance, cause this is your final chance.'
Harry looked up at the ceiling, watching as snowflakes fell above their heads and disappeared. Something gnawed at his stomach. It's just Anya, he told himself sternly, willing his heart to stop thumping oddly and out of beat.
'Your final chance.'
It was just Anya. But it wasn't enough.
Harry decided to stay with us as we waited for Luna to bring Marie down. The Weird Sisters had already left, but not before I asked for their autographs, which left us with Neville, Ginny, James, the twins, and the two of us. I had taken off the second piece of the dress before I invited Harry to dance, leaving me only with spaghetti straps to hold the puffy thing.
Ginny was wearing James' blue coat with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She was also standing next to the door to give the signal. From all of us, it was Neville who looked the most impeccable, his bowtie slightly askew but otherwise fine. Fred, George, and Harry had forfeit their jackets at some point.
I tensed slightly when Ginny made the signal and ran to join her brothers at the stage. Fred and George prepared their wands and looked at me, waiting.
I raised my arm on the air, my hand twitching slightly until I saw Luna's unmistakable hair and I snapped my fingers.
The lights went off – even the ceiling turned black. The door behind Marie was closed by James. Judging from the squeak the twelve year old gave, he must have pinched her or something.
"Luna? Luna!"
I snapped my fingers again. From the tips of the Weasley twins' wands, a horde of rainbow colored butterflies burst and they flew off towards the girl, whose slightly visible face showed shock.
I snapped my fingers for one last time and the lights turned on. From the ceiling, millions of balloons dropped.
"Surprise!"
The grin on my face faded when I saw Marie's eyes filling up with tears. I quickly walked over to her but before I could ask her if something was wrong, she jumped at me. Her arms went around my waist, her black hair contrasting starkly with my dress. She was hiding her face on my stomach.
"Marie, you alright? Was it too much?"
She shook her head quickly. Glancing up at the others, I nodded reassuringly and they almost let out a chorused sigh.
Marie was too much like me. Like I'd done before, words weren't enough to express my gratitude.
"Happy Birthday Marie."
I'm so sorry you have to share the path I'd walked.