Chapter 5

24th December. Gryffindor Common Room. 8PM.

It was the night of the Winter Ball. Neville was pacing the Common Room practising his dance steps. The room was buzzing with terrified men writhing uncomfortably in their suits and elated women prancing elegantly in their gowns. The atmosphere was alight with joy, festive spirits and happiness. Seamus looked at himself in the mirror. His suit was black with red stitching and a badly knotted tie. He had tried to do something with his hair which hadn't really worked, but he was satisfied with the attempt. He started running through dance steps in his mind, just as he and Cho had practised, but he could hardly remember any. Seeing Neville's attempts made him feel somewhat better about his own inadequacy.

Professor McGonagall entered the Common Room. She was dressed in a slim gown in Gryffindor colours. Several of the girls complimented her on it as she took her position in front of the fireplace. 'Gryffindor, it's time for the Winter Ball! Boys, you will be led to the Great Hall first, and then girls you will join us after. Gentlemen, you have two minutes to prepare yourself, then we go.'

Seamus's heart raced. His legs trembled nervously, anticipating the awkward first dance. What if Cho didn't like his suit? What if he was humiliated in front of everyone? He wished Draco was attending, because just knowing that he was there would calm him, but the Slytherin had decided that such festivities weren't his scene and he couldn't tarnish his image so irreparably, no matter how hard Seamus had tried to persuade him. He adjusted his tie one last time and then made his way up to the professor.

'Mr Finnigan,' announced Professor McGonagall, light-heartedly, 'you can't possibly allow me to let you attend the Ball with your tie in such a state!' She perched herself on the edge of the chair and untied the scruffy mess, then, with a wave of her wand, it recrafted itself into a fashionably oversized knot, and drew itself up under his chin.

'And who has the delight of your company at the ball tonight, Mr Finnigan?'

'Cho Chang, Professor.'

'Ah, yes, Miss Chang and you have been spending an awful lot of time together, Mr Finnigan. I had noticed.' She half smiled, then placed her wand in her pocket.

'We're just friends.' Seamus asserted.

'I'm sure, Mr Finnigan,' replied the Professor, obviously biting her tongue to not make any further comments. 'You make sure you're a gentleman tonight.'

'Yes Professor,' said Seamus, as he turned to walk away.

'And Mr Finnigan?' Seamus turned back to her. 'Enjoy yourself.' She smiled a broader smile than he had ever seen her give before, and somehow Seamus could tell that she knew it wasn't really Cho that he wanted to go with. But knowing that she understood made him feel better, even if she didn't know who he really wanted to be with.

'Right, Gryffindor boys, onward to the Ball!' announced Professor McGonagall, waving her wand again. The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, revealing a red carpet trailing down the corridor. The cacophony of awkward boys lined up, each adjusting their ties, tucking in their shirts, or subtly mouthing their dance steps to themselves. McGonagall led the way, and slowly, nervously, they followed.

24th December. Ravenclaw Common Room. 8.10PM.

'Girls, are you ready?' queried the anxious voice of Professor Flitwick while knocking at the door of the girls' dormitory. 'It's time to go.'

The door creaked open, and out stepped the beautiful girls of Ravenclaw. Amongst them stood Cho Chang dressed in a dark green, silk gown. It clung to her figure, showing off the majestic curvature of her hips. In one hand she carried a black clutch bag embroidered with golden lace. Within it, she carried her essentials for the evening: lipstick, a mirror, her wand and a couple of Galleons.

As she followed Flitwick down the red carpet towards the Great Hall, her limbs tingled with anticipation. She had lived this moment a thousand times in her head. The great oak doors towered high above them. With a flick of his wand, Flitwick commanded them open. Cho took a sharp intake of breath and then looked into the chamber. It was nothing short of magical.

A staircase stood before them, leading down toward the congregation of boys. The walls were lit by goblets, burning bright icy blue. Snowflakes fell from the enchanted ceiling, tumbling downward then dissipating into nothingness. At the opposite end of the hall, the teachers' bench had been rearranged to form seating for an enchanted orchestra of instruments playing themselves in harmony. Her eyes navigated every inch of the room, until finally falling on the face of Seamus. He was looking back at her, and smiling. Gracefully, she descended the staircase.

'Cho, you look beautiful', he said, nervously. Cho suspected he would have said it regardless of how she looked, but she didn't mind.

'Thanks Seamus.'

'No, you really do. You always do.'

Cho blushed, then hugged him. 'Come on,' she said, 'I want to dance.'

24th December. Slytherin Common Room. 8.20PM.

Draco sat opposite Blaise and Goyle on the Slytherin Common Room sofas. He looked at each of them intensely, weighing up his odds.

'Hit me,' he said.

Goyle narrowed his eyes slightly.

'Go on, hit me.'

Goyle reached across the table, pulled a card from the top of the deck and put it down in front of Malfoy.

'Jack of Spades', he said. The animated Jack of Spades on the card laughed loudly.

Tension crept through the air, leaving it stale and decrepit.

'Bust,' announced Malfoy.

Goyle cheered in response, and scooped up his winnings. 'Again?'

'Nah man,' said Blaise, getting up from his seat and stretching his arms outward, 'this is boring. Let's go to the girls' dorm.'

Several others nodded in agreement and climbed to their feet. Draco remained sat on the sofa, shuffling the deck between his fingers.

'You coming, man?' asked Blaise.

'No, no – I've got some stuff to finish first.'

'C'mon mate, you know Patsy's gaggin' for it. She wants you.'

'Maybe another day, Blaise.'

'What's up with you lately, man?'

'Nothing, Blaise. Just go already.'

Blaise sneered as he headed out of the room, followed by his mob of Slytherin boys. Malfoy turned towards the fireplace and fanned the deck of cards out in his hands. One by one, he threw them into the flames and watched them animated figures panic as the card curled up and blackened.

Hardly any Slytherins had gone to the Winter Ball. Draco suspected that many of them wanted to, but knew the threat of losing social prestige would sway them otherwise. Seamus had begged him to go, but Draco had refused vehemently. He hadn't celebrated Christmas since he was a little boy, and that was only when his father had the time for him. He was a busy man, and festivities weren't his concern. Draco had grown into a respectable young man without them, so what was their point? The Winter Ball felt too much like an undeserved celebration.

He finished disposing of pack of cards in the fire, throwing the final handful in at once, then took his wallet from his pocket. Carefully, Draco glared around the room, looking out for onlookers or eavesdroppers. Easing the fabric open carefully with his fingers, Draco opened a concealed compartment that he had created a few days ago on the back of the wallet by delicately and precisely cutting the material. He pulled out a small photograph of himself and Seamus at Hogsmede, taken by Cho last week. They had both been wrapped up warm with coats, scarves and gloves on, but Seamus still kept his arm wrapped around Draco and insisted on asking him every few minutes whether he was warm enough. The picture caught a moment where Draco turned to Seamus to kiss him, but was then hit by a snowball thrown by a mischievous Cho. It never failed to make Draco laugh.

The sound of somebody descending the stone staircase behind him caught him by surprise, and he closed his hand tight. It was Blaise, returning from the girls' dormitory.

'Malfoy, Pansy's asking for you.'

'Tell her I'm busy.' Malfoy turned back towards the fireplace and looked at the ashes left by the cards. The tongues of flame licked at the charred remnants, tearing them apart, breaking them down.

'What the hell's up with you lately, Malfoy?'

'What? Nothing. I'm just busy.'

'You're sat throwing cards into the fireplace. You're not busy. Why aren't you in the Girls' Dorm?'

'I don't feel like it, Blaise.'

'I'm startin' to think you're bent or somethin', man. Get it together, Malfoy. Pansy's waiting for you.'

'Fuck you, Blaise. I'm not gay.'

'Then why the hell aren't you up there? What would your father say if he found out you were sat down here like some queer while the rest of us were upstairs.'

'Just... leave me alone, Blaise.'

'Whatever, man. I'll tell Pansy you'll be up soon.'

As he ascended the stairs, Malfoy untensed his arms and fists. His heart sank as he saw the screwed up photograph reveal itself in his tightly-held fist as it relaxed. He tried to smooth it out, but the creases were too deep. His face was disfigured and hideous in the mesh of creases. Even his perfect moment had been destroyed by the brutality of Malfoy. The disfigured and hideous face on the photograph was his own, and he knew he wore it every day of his life. He threw the photograph into the flames and watched as the tendrils of flame tore into it, burning it away into ashes. He hoped that, like a phoenix, he could feel reborn from the ashes, forget his family heritage, forget his name, forget everything, but it could never be that simple.

Draco climbed to his feet, feeling his body ache with disgust and self-loathing. He turned, every step more laborious than the last, and climbed the stairs toward the dormitories. He reached the landing, and looked first in one direction, then in the other: to his left lay the boys' dorm; to the left, the girls'.

24th December. The Winter Ball. 10PM.

Seamus and Cho danced, stepping rhythmically and magnificently. Cho's footing was impeccable and perfected. Seamus was clumsier, but he improvised where necessary to keep up. Nothing would let him ruin this night for Cho. Her frame glowed with happiness, tracing her skin with a golden tinge. It radiated from her fingertips, her eyes, her smile, and filled Seamus with such a profound elation that he wanted to do nothing but keep dancing with her. Every step fed their happiness. For the first time in weeks, he didn't feel guilty. He knew that she had forgiven him for what he had done.

Eventually, the music slowed, and couples around them drew each other closer for a slow dance. Awkwardly, Seamus drew Cho closer, and felt her body against his. They swayed side to side. He brushed a stray strand of her hair back behind her ear, and smiled at her. She giggled childishly, then leant forward and rested her head on his shoulder. Seamus looked out over the room at the couples dancing: a countless number of boys dancing with a countless number of girls, some exchanging loving glances, some kissing, some just embracing each other. Many dancers had retreated to the corners of the room, sampling the delights of the buffet, then sitting down to witness the rare expression of love and compassion that was taking place in this dance.

Amongst these dancers was Ron Weasley, Seamus's fellow Gryffindor. He was looking out over the crowd, smiling, while stuffing his face with a variety of cheeses that he had accumulated over the night on his buffet plate. He met eyes with Seamus, then smiled and raised his eyebrows, miming his dance with Cho. The illusion was so convincing that even Seamus's dearest friends believed he was interested in Cho as more than friend. But that's all it was: an illusion. A farce, a fraud, a lie. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. He knew he wanted nothing more than to dance this dance with Draco, to express his love and compassion, to share it with the world, but the world would not understand. Somehow, this all felt wrong.

He wanted Draco to burst through the doors, lead him away, dance with him in front of everybody. They shouldn't have to care what anyone thinks. He looked to the door hopefully, but nobody came. He felt Cho's fingers loosen on his back. He desperately wanted the happiness back. To continue dancing with her. To feel the happiness pouring from her fingertips, to make her happy, but there are some things that Seamus knew he couldn't sacrifice.

'Cho, I...'

'I know, I know.'

'I just wish he was here.'

'I know.'

'I'm sorry.'

24th December. Boys' Dormitory, Slytherin Common Room. 11PM.

Draco lay in bed, face down. He was ashamed. He knew he had let Seamus down. He knew he had let himself down. He had told Seamus he wasn't going, but he could see in his eyes that he thought he would show up. A knight in shining armour. That was something Draco could never be. He was a Malfoy - a bully, a coward, a traitor. Thinking back over the past few hours made him feel sick. He knew what he had done. He knew he had climbed into Pansy's bed, he knew she had touched his bare chest, ran her fingers through his hair, and he had kissed her. Even though he left before anything more happened, he knew he had betrayed Seamus. He betrayed the only person that had ever truly cared about him. Tears welled up in his eyes. He pressed his face down into the pillow to hide the noise of his sobbing.

The door opened behind him, and he quickly brushed his hands across his face to hide the teary streaks that marked his cheeks.

'Malfoy? What are you doing in here, mate? I saw you go upstairs with Pansy.' Blaise's voice was cold and ruthless.

'I left.'

'You... left?' Blaise walked around Malfoy's bed, and looked him in the face. 'Are you... crying?'

Malfoy turned away.

'Oh my God, I was right. You're fucking queer!' Blaise chuckled as he spoke.

'Get out, Blaise.'

Blaise began to laugh louder. Malfoy stood.

'Get out, Blaise.'

'Why? What are you gonna do, man? Go running off to the rest of your bent friends?'

Malfoy balled his fists. He could feel blood pumping through the veins in his neck. He tried desperately to restrain himself, but the urge to hit Blaise was nearly overwhelming. His heart was painfully pounding in his chest.

'Draco Malfoy,' said Blaise. 'Laughing stock of the school. Laughing stock of the Malfoy family.'

Draco unleashed his fists, landing one firmly in Blaise's stomach, and releasing the other as an uppercut, crashing against his chin, sending him flying backward onto the floor. The Slytherin trembled, blood dripping from his mouth, as Draco towered over him and pinned him to the ground. He drew his fist high in the air and, with all his strength, forced it into Blaise's face. Then again, and again. He reached around on the ground, scrambling for anything he could hit him with. Reaching outward, his fingers found the crystal ball from his bedside table. He lifted it high in the air, high above Blaise's head, and braced himself. He knew the damage it would cause, but he didn't care anymore.

Blaise struggled, coughing up blood. One of his eye sockets was swelling up. Blood trickled from a cut near his temple. He was trying to speak, but his throat was so full of blood that Malfoy couldn't understand what he was saying. He lifted the crystal ball higher, then looked at his victim, preparing to strike. The light of the dormitory goblet was refracting in the orb, casting a spectrum of colours across Blaise's cut face. Malfoy froze. The colours danced, reflecting in the blood, flickering from bold and intense to faded and weak. But they were there. And they were beautiful. Blaise's uninjured eye started to roll back in his head. Within seconds, he fell unconscious.

Draco placed the crystal ball back on his bedside unit. And, in that moment, he was nothing more than Draco. No Malfoy name to blame. It was he who had done this, because he was not strong enough to become his own person. He was not strong enough to go against the Malfoy name alone, and the blame lay with him alone. He resented himself for what he had done, and, there, stood above the bloodied body of his fellow student, he resented all that the Malfoy name stood for. Something which he would stand for no more.

24th December. Outside the Great Hall. 11.50PM.

The Great Hall had been closed for twenty minutes, but Seamus still sat outside. He had undone his tie, and was wearing it casually across his shoulders. All the other students had gone back to their Common Rooms but he waited behind, saying he needed some fresh air.

'Hey you.' The voice of Cho Chang echoed in the empty corridor.

'Hey,' replied Seamus. His voice sounded sombre, but not upset. 'Look, I'm sorry if I ruined tonight for you. I'm really, really sorry.'

'You didn't ruin tonight. You made tonight, Seamus. You made me feel like the most important girl on Earth.'

'You are the most important girl on Earth to me, Cho. You've been there for me. You deserve somebody who really loves you. Who can finish the slowdance with you.'

'Don't be silly. Listen, I'll go get us a couple of drinks. Wait here.' Cho giggled, and then headed off down the corridor, looking back one last time before she disappeared around the corner to check that Seamus was okay.

He knew that he was okay. Nothing bad had happened. He had spent the most amazing evening with Cho. He had danced until his feet hurt. He had felt so happy. As much as he had wanted Draco there, Seamus had accepted that he didn't want to be a part of this. It was all some fantasy inside his head: Draco sweeping him off his feet, dancing with him in front of everyone, without reserve or fear. It was a fantasy that could never be. They would be the laughing stock of the school. The burden of their relationship meant that they had to live it in secret, but he could do that for Draco. In his heart, he could feel himself falling in love.

But he also knew there was no point wallowing in the corridor. He and Cho could go for their drink. They could chat about all the fun times they'd had tonight, all the fun times they were going to have in the future. It meant so much to him that she would be there for him, and he could only hope that she knew how much he wanted to be there for her too. He knew it wouldn't be easy with Draco, but having her there as support meant the world. A smile crept across his face as he climbed to his feet and started tracing her path, hoping they would bump into each other and could find somewhere nice to sit and chat. Maybe that bench that they had spoken on a couple of weeks ago. The spot felt important to Seamus, and he hoped it did to her too. He knew it would be empty at this time of night.

'Hey Finnegan.'

The words carried through the air so unexpectedly that Seamus was almost sure he had imagined them. It wasn't until he turned around and saw him that he knew that this was real.

Draco stood before him.

He was dressed in smart, black trousers and an expensive-looking white shirt patterned with purple stitching. A small patch of it was missing, where a section had been torn away.

He stretched a hand out to Seamus. It was trembling, and, when Seamus took it, he felt cold.

For a moment, they looked at each other, Seamus still in disbelief that he had really come for him. Draco led him by the hand, walking back towards the Great Hall. The grand doors opened in front of them out onto the empty chamber. Balloons, plastic cups and various other festive decorations littered the floor. The room was deserted. Seamus, still speechless, looked at Draco. Draco looked back at him, and smiled, then nodded his head into the room. Seamus nodded back.

Together, they sprinted to the centre of the dancefloor. The chorus of instruments began to pick up again, sensing somebody nearby. They played a slowdance. Draco pulled him close, and they danced. Smiling and laughing as they did.

Their feet kicked at the stranded balloons and empty cups on the ground. Their fingers intertwined.

Seamus gazed around the empty chamber, still in disbelief. He saw Cho stood in the doorway, holding two cups. She was laughing, and wiping tears from her cheek.

He felt whole. He felt loved. He brushed the tears from Draco's face and kissed him, holding him so tight, feeling his heart beating against his chest. The clock chimed midnight as they danced.

Draco kissed him back.

He knew that Seamus had seen him. And he was beautiful.