*Thanks to reader BethieBee who came up with an interesting idea that sparked something….

Beta Love: glitterally, she's the best. :)

Happy New Year, y'all!

Ch. 12

Saturday Morning

Room 1

Eighth Tower

It was Saturday morning, and Harry was impatient. Hermione hadn't been in the mood to talk to him after their lecture from the Headmistress and Mrs. Weasley yesterday. If anything, she was more withdrawn than before. Impulsively, he decided to visit Sirius. Even though they'd been at odds recently, maybe Sirius would help him, and he just needed to talk. Getting up, he dressed hurriedly and stepped through the Floo with a shouted "Grimmauld Place!"

He stopped abruptly at the sight before him. Sirius was laying on the sofa with a pretty brunette witch in his arms that Harry recognized from the papers. A small blanket Harry normally saw draped across the back of the furniture was drawn over them, around their waists and pulled up under her chin, protecting her modesty. Sirius' arm curled around her stomach protectively, and the look on his face was more peaceful than Harry had ever seen it. He's in love, really truly in love, and happy. Not wanting to disturb the sleeping couple, Harry froze. He couldn't go back through Floo without shouting, and he could only disapparate to the gates of Hogwarts. And to do that, he'd still have to make his way out of the room and onto the street. Bugger. Maybe I can get to the door without waking them.

Harry sidled by on nearly silent feet, but years in Azkaban finally came to the fore. Just has Harry made the door to the lounge, Sirius's low voice stopped him cold. "Harry? What's wrong?"

Keeping his back to the couple, Harry froze and answered, his voice a bare whisper. "Errr…Nothing. I just came to talk to you, but you were, uh, busy, so I thought I'd two-way you later. Sorry to wake you."

"Deirdre Kathleen, it's just Harry. Go back to sleep." Sirius spoke to the woman in his arms. "I'll be back in a bit. Let's talk in the kitchen, Harry; I'll meet you there."

Harry headed to the kitchen as they continued a low-voiced conversation. He sat down heavily in his accustomed chair before Kreacher appeared, bowing low. He waited, nursing the coffee the elderly House Elf provided, thinking about the scene he'd just witnessed until Sirius appeared almost ten minutes later, lips slightly swollen, but upturned. He accepted his cup of coffee from Kreacher and settled into his chair.

"Morning, Harry. I didn't know you were coming. Everything alright at Hogwarts?"

"You saw the paper yesterday?"

Sirius's face darkened. "Yeh, I did. And even I think it's rubbish. Those pictures were of perfectly normal things for students;. Deirdre-Kathleen pointed that out. I was thinking about pulling Hermione out of school, but she talked me around."

Eyes wide behind his glasses, Harry shook his head in denial. "You can't…." His voice trailed off at Sirius's smirk.

"In point of fact, I can, Harry." Sirius's eyes darkened. "She may be of age, but as the head of the Black family, I can make it very difficult for her to stay at Hogwarts."

"Why would you do that to her? She'd hate you."

"I know she would, and that's why I don't want to. But Harry, if this keeps up, I'm not going to have a choice. She's my daughter, and I owe it to Mary and to her to keep her safe."

Harry carefully set his mug down. "You should know me well enough to know that I'll do everything I can to keep her safe. And she knows more than most of us combined about protection spells. She doesn't really need that. What she needs is privacy."

"I can't provide that as long she's at Hogwarts."

"Why did you tell me to ask her to the Graduation Ball?" Harry abruptly changed the subject.

Sirius opened his mouth and closed it before he answered the question. "Truthfully? When I see you both together, it just seems right. I'd hoped you'd take advantage of that and find happiness together."

"Then why have you been so angry about the thought of us together? That doesn't make any sense!"

"I didn't know she was my daughter!" Sirius growled as he leaned forward threateningly. "Now I do." He leaned back, his voice smoothing out. "But she's still a sweet innocent baby in my heart, and I've got another chance with her. But - " his voice quavered, "I look at her and she's grown, yet still so good. And smart. Then, I have you, and I love you, Harry, but you're far from innocent. I know that not all the articles in the paper over the summer were true, but I know which ones are. And there are things you don't know."

"You're joking." Harry gasped. "If Hermione and I were together, I'd never cheat on her or treat her ill. You know that. She's literally the most important person in the world to me." Something Sirius said nudged at his consciousness. "Wait, what do you mean, there are things I don't know?"

Sirius leaned forward as if to impress on his godson the importance of what he was about to say. "There's a betrothal contract."

"What?" Harry gasped.

"Neither of you can marry anyone but each other without my consent."

Harry's jaw dropped; it never occurred to him that their parents might have signed one. "My mother went along with this? Her mother?"

"They didn't have to, Harry. There was an out for you both so that the contract could never be enforced against your – and Hermione's – will. James and I were just," Sirius paused, considering his next words, "doing a bit of wishing and hoping. Joining the nobles Houses of Black and Potter and all that."

"You know she'll never forgive you if you try to force her to marry someone. Can you release us?"

Sirius stood and poured another cup of coffee before he answered. Staring out the kitchen window, he finally continued. "I could."

"For Godric's sake, you've got to! That would be the last straw; she'd move to Muggle London and you'd never see her again. You'd never see either of us because I'd follow her." Harry's voice rose.

Sirius's eyes widened at the threat. "You can't be serious."

"Of course, I'm bloody well serious. She's the love of my life! I'll follow her to hell and back; living as a Muggle is nothing."

Sirius held out his hands placatingly. "I will. I'll release it." He stopped. "Did you say she was the love of your life?"

"I told you so." An unfamiliar voice came from the door, jerking Sirius's attention to the entry.

"Deirdre Kathleen." His voice softened and eyes warmed even further. "I'd like to introduce you to my godson, Harry Potter."

Harry turned and stretched a hand out to greet her. "Hullo." Rather than clasping it, she pulled him into a brief hug.

"Harry, it's so good to meet you. Call me Kate." She sent a teasing glance at Sirius and tilted her head in his direction. "He's the only one who calls me Deirdre Kathleen."

She went and busied herself pouring a cup of coffee. "Tell me about yourself."

Harry smiled at the friendly witch who seemed somehow familiar. "Well, I'm finishing my last year at Hogwarts. We, uh, weren't able to go last year."

"I know. My brother was in Gryffindor with you; he was full of the story of your return when I got to Hogwarts just after the battle ended."

"Your brother?"

She smiled, and that mischievous grin reminded Harry of someone. "Seamus? Seamus is your brother?"

"He is. He was a surprise for our mum. I graduated the year before Bill Weasley." She shrugged. "And so Seamus and I weren't terribly close. He was born shortly before I left for Hogwarts. And then by the time he got there, I was long gone."

"Where, uh, where were you during the war?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Ireland." Kate paused as she poured a dollop of cream into her coffee. "I was working with the underground there, trying to shore up a resistance effort in case the worst happened. Thank the Founders it didn't. We arrived at Hogwarts right after the final battle was over. Oliver Wood was with us – you remember him?"

Harry nodded.

"So, afterward, when Kingsley became the Minister for Magic, I applied for the position of his assistant." She stopped and glanced at Sirius. "I met your godfather when he came to meet with the Minister about Hermione. We've gotten - close - the past few weeks."

Sirius held out his hand, urging her to come sit next to him. "I have to say that Deirdre Kathleen has helped me be a little more, ahh, accepting of what's going on with Hermione and you."

"Nothing is going on at the moment." Harry grimaced, "I don't want to risk our friendship, and Gryffindor boldness aside, the thought of not being friends with her, not being around her, it scares me. But, I'll do it. The Masque is tonight. I'll make it work."

Room Four

Eighth Tower

Hermione's eyes flew open and for a moment she couldn't remember why she'd slept so late. Her wand hadn't buzzed her awake. The Masque is tonight! She didn't remember being this excited for the Yule Ball back in 4th year, and the last couple of years had been noticeably devoid of lighthearted social activities. Spending most of last year hunting Horcruxes was decidedly not fun.

Daphne rolled over and met her eyes. "I'm so excited, aren't you?"

Hermione, hand still tucked under her pillow, nodded. "It feels so silly to be so excited about a costume party, but I think it's going to be fun! I love my costume, especially the crown. It's just so pretty and feminine."

"I think we need to get all the girls together so we can make a day of it – getting ready. We can have a spa day. Oh – we could have brunch first!"

Hermione felt her eyes glaze over at the thought of a spa day. "We can go to the day salon in Hogsmeade. I bet we can get pedicures."

"Pfft. A pedicure? I need a massage." Daphne sat up. "What are you waiting on? Get moving!"

Several hours, brunch, a pedicure, a manicure, a massage, and an early dinner later, Daphne and Hermione stood before the mirror in their room, surveying their respective costumes. Hermione watched in awe as Daphne charmed her make-up to reflect the silver and white of a winter storm and her silver dress flowed around her gracefully, like water.

"You look gorgeous, Daphne. Neville isn't going to know what hit him."

Daphne turned in the mirror to make certain everything about her costume was in perfect order. Nodding in satisfaction, she affixed her icicle earrings and necklace and smirked in satisfaction at her reflection.

"Thank you. And I'm quite sure Neville will be looking at plenty of girls tonight." She waved her wand, charming her half mask in place. "And you are truly stunning."

"Do you really think so?" Hermione spread the iridescent folds of her skirt to admire the shimmering play of light on the fabric.

"Absolutely. More beautiful than Guinevere herself."

Hermione mimicked Daphne's wand wave and affixed her mask. "Have you heard what the boys are doing?"

"No. Draco has been silent as the tomb. And Blaise."

"Harry hasn't told me anything. He flat out stonewalled me." Hermione sounded a bit disgruntled that he'd managed to keep her in the dark. After a final check of their costumes, they headed for the Great Hall.

Halloween Masque

The Great Hall

Neville, Harry, and the remainder of the Eighth Year wizards, fashionably late, strolled into the Great Hall, looking like virtual clones of one another. While Blaise stood out, all of the others had glamoured their hair and eyes. Harry went so far as to have a temporary charm placed on his eyes to correct his vision. As a final touch, Harry and Neville both used an advanced charm to modify their voices so they sounded exactly alike. Harry spotted Hermione in her Guinevere costume beside Ginny, dressed as the Lady of the Lake. Pansy looked like a giant monarch butterfly, but beside her was Daphne.

"Neville, I need your help." Harry drew Neville's attention.

"Yeah, sure mate. What do you need?"

"I, ahh, I need to get Hermione alone, and I don't want her to know it's me. Can you distract Daphne?"

Neville's famous one-sided grin flashed. "Absolutely. It'll be my genuine pleasure. But what about Ginny?" He tilted his chin towards the youngest Weasley.

Harry glanced over at the trio of girls as Pansy had flitted off to socialize. "I don't think she'll be a problem." Sure enough, Blaise was moving in the direction of the redhead.

"I'll get Daphne on the dance floor. You can pull Hermione off from there. Just give me a few minutes."

"Can you believe them? Honestly. They said they were going to come in costume. And they all look exactly alike," Hermione groused to Daphne when she saw the Eighth Years. "Well, except Blaise." They both watched as he drew Ginny away to the dance floor.

"Well, it's a costume." Daphne laughed. "And we shine all the brighter. It's just as it should be if you ask me. Wait - is that Luna?"

Luna's short, bright gold dress would certainly raise eyebrows in wider society. "What is she? Those earrings? I can't quite make out -" Hermione's voice trailed off abruptly when one of the mystery eighth years strode up beside the brightly costumed witch.

"I know. She's a Golden Snitch!" Daphne laughed. "Those earrings are wings! But the real question - is that who I think it is with her?" Before Hermione could answer, an eighth-year wizard arrived at Daphne's elbow and whispered in her ear.

"Thank you, my Lord Mystery." Daphne nodded to Hermione as she spun off into the arms of the tall wizard beside her.

Hermione smiled as the pair began dancing and verbally sparring from the looks of it. She muffled a sound of surprise when an unfamiliar voice whispered in her ear and a gloved hand clasped her elbow. "Will you grace this poor commoner with your presence in this dance, your Majesty?"

She spun around with the idea that it was Harry at her arm, but the brown eyes belied her assumption. "Of course, I will." As they gained the dance floor, she settled into the shelter of his arms. "And who should I call you? Lord Enigma? Sir Puzzle?"

"Oh, my queen, I'm just a humble servant to your beauty."

Hermione's eyes narrowed at the glib flattery that was so unlike Harry. "I find that you represent a conundrum. I thought you were Harry, but you don't sound like him, nor do you say things he'd say. But I know you're one of my classmates because of the way you're dressed." As Hermione continued her discussion of the mystery man dancing with her, he whirled her into a shadowed corner and cut off her speech by pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss that ended all too soon.

Hermione's instincts were screaming at her. It's Harry! It's Harry! But her mind intervened. It could be him, but it might not be. They're all alike. The lips seemed familiar, but the eyes were all wrong. They weren't the familiar emerald of Harry; instead, they were just brown.

"Who are you?" she whispered, staring into those so wrong eyes.

"I thought you wanted to be swept away by a mystery man, Hermione." He leaned forward once again, but instead of kissing her lips, he nipped at her ear and gently blew into the shell of it. His lips quirked upward at her shiver. His tongue lightly traced the outside of her ear. "I can't be a mystery and tell you who I am."

When she began to answer him, his hand swept up, and he laid his finger across her lips. "Shhh. Don't talk, don't think. Just feel for a little bit." He trailed short kisses down her neck, and she didn't bite back a moan. Instead, she angled her chin up and to the side to give him a better angle.

"Please – " she gasped as he kissed the tops of her breasts, sending goosebumps spreading across her chest. He moved up the other side of her neck, stopping to suck lightly just behind her ear.

Harry contemplated his next move. If he kissed her lips like he wanted, she'd know beyond a shadow of a doubt it was him, and he wanted to preserve that sense of mystery, if only because she'd said it was a fantasy of hers. He sucked the sensitive skin just a bit harder. She'll glamour it anyway, but I'm going to leave a mark. He tangled his hands in her curls and tilted her head slightly further to the side. "I'm leaving a mark, Hermione. Tell me you're okay with this."

She nodded, a short movement of affirmation. The unknown wizard smiled against her neck and continued his sensual assault on her senses.

"Harry, please…." Her breathy voice trailed off.

"Are you sure?" he whispered in her ear.

"Ohhh. Oops!" A laugh interrupted them.

Harry grimaced behind his mask. He knew that laugh. Time to retreat. "Until later, love." He pressed a brief kiss to Hermione's lips, turned, nodded to Ginny, and swept away.

Hermione watched the unknown wizard walk away. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. His walk wasn't the loose-limbed, easy stride that she was accustomed to seeing from Harry, but like his voice and his eyes, a stride could easily be modified to conceal identity.

Ginny reached her side, lips slightly swollen and watched the departing form of the masked wizard. "Who was that?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his retreating form. "I don't know."

"Hermione, it's Harry, right?"

"I don't know. He wouldn't tell me."

"You kissed him! I saw you two kissing! How could you not know?" Ginny narrowed her eyes and looked carefully at Hermione's neck. "He left a hickey, for Godric's sake!"

Hermione slapped her hand over her neck. "It wasn't like that. We never really kissed like Harry and I did."

"You're joking."

"No, I'm not. I don't do that; you know it, Ginny. But when he blew in my ear, just this little bit, I could feel it in my stomach. I swear my knees almost buckled." Hermione paused. "I called him Harry, though."

"What did he say?" Ginny gasped. Staid, uptight Hermione lost her head with an unknown wizard? Unreal.

"He asked me if I was sure."

"Oh, he didn't," Ginny breathed out.

"He did," Hermione answered. "But I'm going to find out."

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, across the hall, a group of identically dressed wizards milled about, deliberately shifting, like the elaborate Muggle game of shells. At a prearranged signal, they moved into a line. But by that point, it was impossible to know who was who. Only Blaise stood out.

When the clock chimed midnight, everyone in the Hall removed their masks, and, in an impressive show of magic, as the eighth year wizards removed their masks, their personal glamours faded away.

"That's remarkable." Hermione immediately began to speculate on how they made their costumes work. "I think they charmed the masks to have their glamour. Very clever." She was reluctantly impressed.

Harry strolled over to Hermione and Ginny, mask in hand and grin in place. "Did you like our costumes?"

"It was clever, I'll grant you that, but I'm going to figure out who was who." Hermione narrowed her eyes at her best friend.

"Why?" Harry's eyes lit up in amusement as he looked around the room and his gaze landed on Luna who was talking to a now unmasked Draco. "Looks like someone is chasing a Snitch."

"Pay attention, Harry. I'm going to find out," she insisted.

Harry took his gaze off of Luna and looked at Hermione. After a pause, he ran his now ungloved fingers down the side of her face teasingly. "Good luck with that."

Sunday Morning

Great Hall

Minerva McGonagall heaved a sigh as she read the Society section of the Prophet in dismay. She'd lay odds that she would be getting several irate owls today. Black and Greengrass were probably on the way. It featured two sets photos prominently, one of Hermione with a masked wizard and the other of Daphne doing the same with another mystery man, but one who clearly was not Draco Malfoy. She scanned the article with some trepidation, trying to prepare herself for the difficulties of the day.

Hogwart's Halloween Masquerade: Shenanigans Afoot?

Last night was Hogwarts annual Halloween masque, and the Prophet has obtained exclusive photographs of everyone's favorite Golden Girl, Hermione Black. Dressed elegantly as Queen Guinevere, she slipped away with an unknown wizard, only to return looking quite a bit disheveled. (see photos below). Also of some note, Daphne Greengrass, of the prominent Greengrass family, is reportedly betrothed to one Draco Malfoy (scion of the Wiltshire Malfoys, also in his eighth year at Hogwarts). According to the exclusive photos we have obtained, she also disappeared from the festivities with a masked classmate, but one who bears no resemblance to her fiance. Headmistress McGonagall has not responded to requests for comment at the time of this printing.

An owl interrupted Minerva's breakfast, prodding her for attention. She flicked open the letter. Her lips twisted in derision when she read the contents.

Dear Headmistress,

Here at the Prophet, we have obtained exclusive photos of Hermione Black and Daphne Greengrass apparently sneaking away from the Masque last evening. Would you care to comment on behalf of Hogwarts School?

Sincerely,

Rita Skeeter

Society Page Editor

The Daily Prophet

That cheeky bitch! Minerva briefly contemplated calling in the couples in question, but the hall was all but deserted this morning; she gave a mental shrug. They were all of age, after all. And if the worst they did was a bit of kissing in the shadows, well, there were worse things to do.

Happy New Year! You didn't think Daphne was going to skate with no attention, did you? Next chapter, my friends, next chapter...I promise. Please review if you enjoyed, thank you!