Chapter Twenty-Four:
The Yule Bawl (With Uber-Long Fluff Sequences, A Fight Scene, And Even More Fluff! Now With 20% Less Fat!)
(A/N: We are so sorry this took so long, everyone! Schmo, Schmurf, and I are juniors in high school, and while we've found time to nearly finish the shorthand version of this story (as HaloFin17 can attest to), I, Sushi, just haven't gotten around to typing it. Therefore, this chapter is dedicated gratefully to chitown4183, who reviewed my other story Sea Rat and mentioned how much she wanted this one to be updated! Thanks again, chitown!
To everyone else, Merry Christmas if I get lazy again and don't update before then! :D)
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I really, really wish I wasn't going with Nickolay," Rachel groaned as she shut the door behind her. The dorm room was more crowded than usual this night, as Hermione, Parvati, Lavender, Rachel, Hannah, Katelyn, Tanya, and Kim (who had gotten explicit permission from all present Gryffindors to enter their Tower) were packed into it. Parvati and Lavender had several cases of makeup each, all with their contents spilling out onto the floor, and several magic books were strewn about on beds, open to pages detailing how to curl hair with wands and how to charm lipstick to last longer. Frilly dresses were hanging off of every available hook.
Katelyn looked with sympathy at her friend, who had revealed only two days before just why, exactly, she was so averse to the thought. "I think it's nice that you're still going with him, even though you got an offer from—a—much more agreeable candidate." She faltered under Rachel's fierce gaze, and Kim shoved her into a chair, proceeding to heat up her wand to use either as a styling tool or a weapon, whichever was needed first.
"Oo," said Lavender. "Who else asked you, Rachel?"
"One of the Beauxbatons boys," Rachel answered before Tanya could open her mouth. "I don't know his name."
"Ow!" Katelyn cried. "Stop pulling."
"If you'd stop fidgeting, it wouldn't pull," Kim snapped back, flicking Katelyn's ear.
"At least you got asked nicely," Parvati said grumpily, smearing lipstick on. "I had to be messenger to Padma and tell her that Harry wanted her to be Ron's date. She didn't even know who Ron was!"
"You all are such sad losers," Lavender sang, pulling her red dress out of her trunk and ironing it with her wand. "I got asked by someone I wanted to accept."
"So did Hannah, you know," Rachel said.
Hannah blushed. "I don't know if I would've accepted him, had I known what he was going to do after Haley's wedding."
"Just forget about the kiss, Hannah!" Katelyn exclaimed. Kim tugged at her hair. "Ow! At least for tonight."
"Yeah," agreed Tanya, brushing her blonde hair. "Just have fun. I mean, it's not like you're going with a complete stranger, or anything like what Rachel's doing."
"Thanks, Tanya," Rachel said dryly.
"I know I shouldn't be nervous," Hannah exclaimed, leaping off her bed and pacing back and forth. "But I can't help it! Ever since Dean kissed me, I've been a nervous wreck."
"You need to tell him how you feel," Parvati said wisely. "He'll never loosen up until he knows you're okay with it."
"I guess you guys're right," Hannah sighed.
"As usual," Rachel grinned.
"All right, I'll talk to him tonight," Hannah went on. "It's the only way to make it better, isn't it."
Lavender shook her head. "You all! Angsting about your boy troubles…"
"It's not like you've never had them before," Parvati said.
Shrugging, Lavender said, "I'm not having them now, then. Seamus Finnigan asked me to the Yule Ball! Seamus Finnigan!"
"Correction," Rachel said, loudly, "I asked you for him."
"Oh, yes," Lavender replied, "but I could tell by the look in his eye that he wants me…"
"That's not necessarily true," Katelyn pointed out.
Lavender ignored her and waltzed over to Rachel's bedside stand, where a simple frame housed a moving snapshot that Rachel had taken at the Quidditch World Cup. Seamus and his mother were smiling and waving out of it, but Lavender poked Mrs. Finnigan out of the frame and held Seamus' likeness to her heart. "I'm in love, and it's wonderful!"
Rachel's cheeks were burning red, and Hannah, Katelyn and Tanya noticed the look in her eye and realized that Lavender was in immediate and mortal danger.
"ACHOO!" Tanya yelled, causing Hermione, Lavender, Parvati, and Kim to look over. Meanwhile, Rachel took out her wand, Summoned the picture, and put it quickly in the drawer. Lavender looked put out.
Meanwhile…
"This is going to be the worst night of my life. I hate dances."
"Shut up."
Seamus leaned against a chair with his hands in his pockets, scowling. "I only liked Haley's and Oliver's reception 'cause—'cause…" He trailed off, flushing as he visibly cast about for an excuse that wouldn't be the source of endless teasing.
"Because Rachel gave you her undivided attention?" Dean finished, looking infuriatingly smug.
"Shove it," Seamus replied darkly, which was an obvious affirmative.
"You need to get a life."
"You need to shove that right back up your ass, Dean."
"Don't take your frustration out on me," Dean said, with the superior air of a man who's tagged a girl before anyone else in his down. "I'm not the one ripped from a Shakespearean comedy."
"Dean, I'm going to hit you so hard you—" The Irishman stopped abruptly, his mouth hanging slightly open and his gaze directed somewhere over Dean's right shoulder.
"Seamus? Mate…" Dean waved a hand in front of Seamus' face, then turned to see the girls descending the staircase. Lavender and Parvati led the way, glowing in all their usual beauty, but Dean smirked when he noticed the girl that had caused a temporary short-circuit in Seamus' brain, walking carefully and blushing in uncharacteristic shyness. He reached over and closed Seamus' jaw.
Rachel spotted them the next morning and hurried over, her face glowing even as she stumbled over her own feet. Hannah and Tanya trailed after her, Katelyn already having found Wes.
"Oh, good, familiar faces," Rachel said when she reached the two, grinning. "Someone who's not all made-up and fake-looking."
"You look really nice, Hannah," Dean said in an unnaturally loud voice.
Hannah blushed bright red. "Thanks, Dean. Er…doesn't Tanya look pretty, too?"
Seamus and Dean agreed politely, as Tanya had painstakingly applied makeup that coordinated with her robin's-egg blue gown, but Seamus found his eyes drawn more so than usual to the only girl in Hogwarts who could look him in the eye without standing on the tips of her toes. Rachel was wearing a lightly lavender gown, the overskirt of which was gathered in gentle pleats at the hip and fastened with a decorative flower. A matching shawl was wrapped tightly around her shoulders so no more than an inch or two more of flesh was being shown than usual, but the gown was clearly a spaghetti-strap. She looked prettier than he'd ever seen her, Seamus realized with a funny flutter in his belly.
"Lavender is really excited about going with you tonight," Rachel said to him under her breath.
This sudden direct address caught Seamus rather off-guard, and he stammered, "Er—uh—uh, good."
She patted his arm. "Be nice to her, okay?"
He managed a nod. At this moment, Lavender herself appeared and latched onto Seamus' arm. Rachel reluctantly stepped back, her heart giving a little twinge of jealousy as they went off together, followed close behind by Dean and Hannah, who didn't look to be as happy together as everyone assumed they were going to be.
Suddenly, Wes Marks stepped in front of her and took Katelyn's hand. "You look gorgeous, gorgeous."
Katelyn giggled wildly as he kissed her hand. "You don't look too shabby yourself."
We laughed too, offering his arm. A hot blush creeping up her face, Katelyn took it.
Katelyn and Wes, Hannah and Dean, Seamus and Lavender, and Rachel and Tanya went downstairs together. Tanya found Terry Boot right off, and gave Rachel a little apologetic smile before following the other Funny Farmers into the Great Hall.
Rachel was soon left alone, standing awkwardly on the grand staircase. A sobbing sixth year was her only companion.
Five minutes passed, then ten, and then fifteen. Rachel took out her wand and amused herself by Transfiguring one of her shoes into a kitten and other various interesting objects. Meanwhile, her unhappiness with her choice of Yule Ball dates steadily increased until she jabbed the china windmill she had just Transfigured so hard that it splintered.
At this moment, Nickolay appeared from outside, hastily tucking his shirt in and looking uncharacteristically disheveled. Rachel quickly repaired the windmill and Transfigured it back into her shoe, which she attempted to put back on while descending the staircase. Such an exhibition would have made Seamus laugh and perhaps hurry to help her not kill herself, but Nickolay only stared at her in a manner that was almost akin to distaste.
"Vat are you doing, Vrachel?" he asked, sounding a bit repulsed.
"Well, you were late, and I was bored," she replied. "What would you have had me do, otherwise?"
He looked her up and down. "Vhy are you not dressed like ze other girls?"
Rachel blinked. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Ze other girls all haff dresses that do not hide them," Nickolay replied.
"I happen to think that I am very decently dressed," Rachel replied, lifting her chin defiantly. "I don't have to show a lot of skin to look nice for a ball."
"Fine, fine," he said flippantly. "Let us go and eat. If we sit in ze outskirts, no one vill be able to see zat your dress is not as nice as ze other girls'."
Rachel's nostrils flared, but she let Nickolay take her arm and lead her into the Great Hall, where terrific decorations had been put up. Rachel would have preferred to admire them longer, but Nickolay began pulling her towards a table occupied solely by Bulgarians. Thankfully, Hannah spotted them before it was too late, and Nickolay was obliged to seat himself at a table occupied solely by Funny Farmers (and Lavender and Terry).
After a rather awkwardly silent meal for the Funny Farm table, Dumbledore asked the hall to stand, and the tables were whisked to the side. The Weird Sisters trooped onto the stage, and the dance began with a slow waltz, which the four champions and their dates opened.
Terry and Tanya made a very pretty couple, both having been blessed with graceful feet. Once, Terry lifted Tanya into the air, her periwinkle dress fluttering elegantly as she laughed. This only made Hannah, who'd not been having the happiest night with the strangely taciturn Dean, even more determined to have fun.
"Dean," she said, turning to him, "we need to talk."
Dean grunted, still slumping in his chair.
"What's wrong with you?" Hannah asked, touching his arm.
This got Dean's attention like a slap in the face, and he looked rather sheepish. "Shouldn't we…um…have a drink first?" he suggested.
Hannah shook her head. "I know guys don't usually do this, but please, tell me how you feel. I'm listening."
Dean didn't reply.
"Come on, Tofu," Hannah urged. "The soon you tell me, the sooner we can have fun! This is the first dance we've both been to, besides Haley's wedding, and I want to dance at least one dance!"
"You could dance with someone else," Dean offered.
"But I want to dance with you," Hannah said softly.
Dean was unmoved, and suddenly, Hannah lost it briefly and slapped him across the face.
"Ow!"
"Snap out of it!"
Dean touched his red cheek gingerly. "For Merlin's sake, Hannah!"
"If you think you scared me when you kissed me, or something, you're wrong," Hannah said, a pleading tone in her voice. "Of course I was shocked, it was my first kiss, but I was also excited! I was uneasy, I admit, but now I'm not….Now, does that make…anything better?"
"A bit, I guess," Dean replied after a moment, a tentative smile on his face.
"See?" Hannah answered. "If you had really scared me, would I be here, with you, tonight?"
Dean looked straight at her and said, "I guess not. So…"
"So…?"
"…Er…do you still like me?"
Hannah blushed but smiled. "Yes. I like you a lot."
Dean grinned and asked her to dance, to which she enthusiastically agreed. And as he held her in his arms, he finally realized just how pretty she looked in her white and blue dress.
"Hannah," he said seriously, "you look wonderful tonight."
Hannah's face relaxed into a contented smile.
Other Funny Farmers, however, were not having as much fortune as Hannah and Dean. Nickolay was leading the waltz rather off-tempo, and Rachel, a musician for a good ten years, was struggling immensely with this. To keep her mind off of that and her unpleasant partner, she tried to admire the other couples nearby. Dean and Hannah were latched quite firmly onto one another; Katelyn was gazing, starry-eyed, up into Wes' handsome face; Tanya and Terry were swirling elegantly around; Seamus and Lavender were dancing nearby, and Lavender was dimpling up at him—
"Ow!"
Nickolay leapt back with a Bulgarian cuss, and Rachel lost her footing and landed right on her behind. Five couples had to abruptly stop in order to avoid running her over. After several inquiries as to whether or not she was all right, Rachel forced back her humiliated blush and grinned.
"Yes, yes, just clumsy me." She got up on her own.
"You stepped on my foot," Nickolay said accusingly.
"Sorry," Rachel replied, genuinely. "I got a little distracted."
Nickolay gave a noncommittal grunt and reluctantly kept dancing with her, limping pointedly.
This went on through several dances. After a few minutes, Nickolay's mood changed abruptly, and he became the suave, gentlemanly boy Rachel had agreed to go out with. This was slightly puzzling, Rachel accepted it gladly, relieved that her date finally seemed happy to be her date.
"Vat is it zat you like?" he asked her.
"Well, I like the Civil War," she answered. "You know, the American one—blue versus grey and all that. Did you know that more men died in the Civil War than all previous American wars combined? 620,000."
Nickolay yawned meaningfully.
"Oh, sorry," she said. "I tend to do that a lot…Anyway, I play the piano a lot, I've been told. I love horses, and I write profusely."
"Vat do you vrite about?"
"Oh, Civil War, really. It's the romance of it all, you know?"
"Do you like romance, then?" he asked in a low voice.
"Well, yes, that kind," she answered, a bit flustered.
He pressed his lips to hers.
This would have been a very romantic moment, if Rachel had actually liked Nickolay at all. But since she didn't, she pushed him away an instant later, rubbing at the stomach-turning sensation on her lips. "What was that for!" she cried. "I'm only fourteen, and you're—you're—I don't even know how old you are!"
He said in response, "Six."
"What?"
"I haff kissed six girls tonight."
This made Rachel understandably very mad, and as he made to kiss her again, she shoved him so hard he tripped backwards. She was about to push him again, just for good measure, when none but Seamus came flying out of nowhere and punched Nickolay square in the mouth.
Someone shrieked as Nickolay fell to the floor, his lip split and bleeding. Rachel found herself rooted to the spot. But obviously Seamus didn't, for he hauled the little Bulgarian to his feet by the collar and shook him vigorously.
"Keep your filthy little hands off her!" he roared—or, at least it sounded like this, for his accent was suddenly so thick it was difficult to understand a word he was saying.
Rachel snapped back to reality at his. "Seamus Finnigan, put him down," she said firmly, beginning to pry his trembling hands from Nickolay's shirt. "You're going to get in trouble."
He looked at her, his eyes steely and furious, but she met his gaze with equal intensity. "Seamus, it's fine."
A bit of Seamus' anger dissolved at this quiet reassurance, and he set Nickolay back on his feet. "Sorry," he said darkly.
"No, you're not," Rachel said matter-of-factly. "You were perfectly in the right. You, on the other hand—" She turned on Nickolay. "You stay the bleeding hell away from me and especially my friends. Y'hear?"
He said something nasty in Bulgarian, but then got to his feet and stalked off. As Rachel watched him go, Rachel felt as though a weight on her chest had been lifted.
"Are you okay?" Seamus asked her. "I saw what happened…"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Rachel replied as Tanya and Hannah hurried over. "I'm fine. It wasn't pleasant, but it didn't hurt."
Lavender cleared her throat.
"Just a minute. Rachel, are you sure you're all right? Do you want me to get a professor?"
"No, Seamus, I'm fine. Tanya, don't look so worried. It's all over. I'm glad he did it, actually—it gave me a good excuse to get rid of him."
Lavender was tugging at Seamus' shirt.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Seamus!" Rachel said in exasperation. "It's not like he tried to rape me, or anything! Now go and dance with Lavender or I'll hex you and forget the countercurse!"
Hannah snorted, and Seamus grinned despite himself. "All right, fine." Lavender then tugged him back out onto the dance floor as the Weird Sisters struck up what seemed to be their most popular tune.
Out on the floor, Katelyn had been having too good a time with Wes to notice the other dramas unfolding—at least up until that point. As she boogied to and sang along with her favorite Sisters tune "Bubble Bubble," she saw Wes out the corner of her eye. He was looking at her with aversion in his face.
"What?"
"You actually listen to this shit?"
Katelyn gave him an affronted look. "First of all, yes, I do, I've told you that before! Second of all it's not 'shit,' as you so delicately put it. And third of all, don't cuss!" She poked his chest for emphasis before turning away and dancing like a retard.
Wes hmmphed and stalked off. Katelyn ignored him.
Back on the sidelines, Rachel leaned against a wall and sipped her punch, chuckling as she watched Ron's helpless attempts to escape Padma. The more she watched and thought about other people, the less she would think about Seamus and the less it would hurt to see Lavender's pretty face tilted admiringly up at his.
"Oh, damn it all," she said in frustration, slapping her forehead. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies gave her alarmed looks as they passed.
"Damn what?"
She jumped, spilling her punch all down her front. "Seamus! I—I—what? Oh, dear, look at my dress—Scourgify."
The red stain disappeared, and Seamus said, "Well, you swore. You only swear when you're really upset…"
Rachel found herself tongue-tied. "Oh—I…I, um, only—uh—"
"Mad at Nickolay?" he finished for her.
"Yes," she said, finding her intelligence again. "Oh, yes. Fuming. The nerve! But you were quite noble, you know."
He grimaced. "Oh. Thanks."
"I could have taken care of him."
"I know. It just made me really mad…I kind of lost it. Sorry."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why did it make you so mad?"
Rachel's question threw Seamus off-guard, and it was his turn to be tongue-tied. The real reason he got so mad was because he hated the sight of another man kissing his girl, but, of course, she was not his girl and he couldn't say that to her face. So, after a rather painful pause, he said, "Well, you obviously didn't want to be kissed by him, and I…um…I know how you don't like being forced into things, so…yeah."
She beamed at him. "Seamus Finnigan, you're just a big softie."
He blushed. "No, you're just the only girl that doesn't need my help. So I have to give it even when you don't need it."
"Oh, Seamus, come here so I can kiss you." So saying, Rachel reached up to peck his cheek. But Seamus turned his head at the word kiss at the same time that she went up—and her lips landed nearly smack dab on his. A split second passed, and then they staggered apart.
An awkward silence ensued.
Seamus felt the blood rushing to his face, particularly his ears. But he couldn't shake the lingering sensation of her lips on his, and his palms began to sweat. He could kiss her again. Right there, right then, a seamless segue…she could appreciate that. Would she?
Rachel, on the other hand, felt liable to be sick. What had she done? Did he know it had been an accident? She hadn't intended to kiss him even remotely close to the lips, not at all. She had wanted to, of course, but not intended. His lips had left a slight taste of sugar on hers—a cookie, perhaps? Suddenly, an unbidden sensation of what it would feel like to be truly kissed by him—with his arms tight around her and his mouth warm on hers—flooded her body, and she felt heat rising in her face, along with a pleasant tingle in the pit of her stomach.
Seamus broke the silence with a grin and a weak chuckle. "Guess we know how you really feel about me now, huh?"
Rachel forced a carefree laugh. "Yeah. Sorry about that."
They fell back into silence again. Rachel gazed off into space, imagining Seamus crushing her in his arms and kissing her until she couldn't breathe. (She got a bit breathless just thinking about it.)
Then a highly unpleasant thought occurred to her, bringing her sharply back to reality. "Seamus…?"
"Yeah?"'
"Where's Lavender?"
"Oh. I convinced her to hang with Parvati for a while. She's concerned about you, you know," he added, glancing over at her.
"Concerned? Why?"
Seamus' mouth twisted in a wry grin. "She says you don't ever wear makeup, and that's not normal."
Rachel couldn't help but laugh at this, and Seamus joined in. "When did she first notice I wasn't normal?"
"I knew it from the day we met," he answered teasingly. "You were that tall American with this frizzy brown hair who was so nervous you made your hands bleed."
"Oh, yeah," Rachel said wistfully. "…I'm still that tall American with frizzy brown hair, you know."
Seamus grinned. "Only, I was shorter than you, then. Now I'm taller."
He straightened and pulled his shoulder back, making a rather striking picture, indeed. Rachel smiled up at him. "Those were the days, weren't they?"
Seamus agreed. A silence that was now companionable fell after this, and the Weird Sisters' music took a secondary part to the memories that were playing themselves over and over in the two friends' heads.
Suddenly, Seamus reached out and put Rachel in a headlock. She cried out in surprise, but then wriggled out of his grasp. "What was that for?" she asked, brushing a few stray curls out of her face.
Seamus looked crestfallen. "I was hoping I could put you in one you couldn't get out of. I remember promising to do that, once."
Rachel blinked, then sat down hard on a chair and began laughing. Soon Seamus followed suit, and the two old pals sat hunched over at a table, nearly crying with mirth at the memory of all the scrapes and fights they'd gotten into as younger kids.
"I remember when you deflated Dean's soccer ball with quills," Rachel said.
"I remember that you cried at the drop of a hat our first two years."
"Oh, yeah." Rachel grinned. "Bur you always sounded like a fifty-year-old alcoholic Irish sailor. And that's the truth."
Seamus groaned. "Not the teasing again!"
"'Beware, the leprechaun bites'!" Rachel quoted with a wicked smile.
"I might just do that someday," he said darkly.
There was a sudden flash, and he looked up to see Rachel winding up her Muggle camera. "Candid photo of a characteristic expression," she explained. "You know, sweet memories…"
Seamus shook his head, grinning. "You're a piece of work, Su, honestly."
"Well, do you want to dance with this piece of work, or are we just going to sit here like puds?" she answered, fighting a sudden flush.
"Yeah," he answered. "I mean, yeah, I want to dance with you."
Rachel grinned, put away her camera, and they went out onto the dance floor.
Katelyn and Hannah, who were taking a breather together, noticed this.
"You should've seen Seamus after Haley's wedding," Katelyn said to Hannah. "He finally admitted out loud that he likes Rachel. And he even said, and I quote, that she's 'the only girl he's ever liked this much.'"
"Aw," Hannah cooed. "Why doesn't he just tell her?"
"I dunno," Katelyn said, sipping at her punch. "He gave me some pretty good reasons why he should keep it to himself."
"But look at them," Hannah said. "He can't keep his eyes off her, and she's smiling so hard her cheeks are going to cramp up."
Katelyn snorted. "I agree with Seamus. It's better for them to be friends than for someone's expectations to be dashed. I'm not going to tell him that Rachel likes him back, and I won't tell Rachel that he likes her. And you won't, either," she added furiously as Hannah tried to protest. "Swear it."
Hannah frowned, but then reluctantly said, "Oh, all right, fine. I swear I won't tell Seamus and Rachel that the other likes them back, and I swear to thus withhold happiness from both of them."
"Attagirl."
Hannah scowled and drank the rest of her punch in one gulp.
At that moment, Rachel and Seamus decided to retire from the dance floor, too afraid of being made fun of any more. "Hi, guys," Rachel called brightly, whipping out her camera as she approached Hannah and Katelyn. "Can I get a picture?"
"Sure!" The two girls grinned, and Rachel snapped the pic.
"Whatever happened with you and Nickolay?" Katelyn asked as Rachel put the camera away. "One minute you were dancing with him, and next, he's off snogging some Hufflepuff."
Rachel blinked. "Oh? Now he's up to seven!"
"Huh?"
Seamus sighed. "From what I heard, Nickolay's going around and tallying how many girls he's kissed. Rachel was number six."
Katelyn's face contorted, and her jaw dropped. "Ew! Disgusting! Especially since you don't like him, you like—"
"Silencio!" Rachel cried. Katelyn realized what she had done about halfway through Seamus' name and quickly stuck her tongue out to disguise it.
Seamus and Hannah, both wide-eyed, looked back and forth before Katelyn, looking sheepish, and Rachel, who still had her trembling wand aimed at Katelyn's face. One more look at Katelyn, and then he noticed a hex forming on Rachel's lips. He hurriedly reached out and pushed her hand down.
"Look—I didn't hear her, Su, I swear."
She looked over at him, and the air seemed to leak out of her balloon. "Okay. I believe you."
He kept his hand over hers for a split second longer, then removed it and crossed his arms. Well, she likes someone. It was bound to happen, I guess. The old, familiar feeling of peculiar loneliness returned to settle in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't even realized it was gone until it came back.
Katelyn was studying his face, and he forced a mask of cheerfulness. "I'm going to get a drink of punch, be right back," he said, in a voice that sounded sickeningly carefree in his ears. Rachel and Katelyn nodded.
Seamus needed to break something. But he couldn't very well toss his punch cup to the ground, stomp on it a few times, then go and sock Dean and Nickolay in the mouths until their teeth fell out, which is what he wanted to do. He glared into the watery depths of his drink. If he'd only asked her last year. He would know. Hell, he could have her. It was all Dean's fault. Seamus was rather certain Dean hadn't even felt anything for her in third year. This only made him madder, as he'd been planning to ask her for weeks when Dean inserted himself between them.
"Having a good time, mate?" Dean said, coming to stand next to him.
Seamus couldn't stop himself. In a haze of hormone-induced rage, he slammed his cup down and punched Dean as hard as he could on the upper arm. "Ow! Hey, man! What the hell is wrong with you!" Dean cried, recoiling in pain and grasping at his throbbing arm.
This didn't really relieve any of the motions bubbling in Seamus' heart. So he took a deep breath and escaped out a door into the frigid rose garden. When he was a good distance away from any entrance, he stopped, blew a puff of steam into the air, and released a string of choice swear words into the starry sky above.
There were a few replying curses flung back at him from among the roses, but Seamus ignored them and sank onto a nearby stone bench, putting his head in his hands and sighing. He needed to get a grip, ASAP. If he let his emotions run wild again, who knew what he might do or say? He imaged Rachel looking at him with angry tears in her eyes, demanding why he would use her like that and wondering who this person was.
Seamus squeezed his eyes shut at the pain the imaginary Rachel was causing him. Couldn't he just hit the fast forward button and skip all this damned teenage angst?
"Bloody hell," he groaned, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"Seamus? Are you all right?"
He looked up to see both the very person and the very last person he wanted to see at that moment. "What? Oh, yeah, Rachel, I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," she answered worriedly, sitting down next to him. "And it's arctic out here! Are you feeling ill? Is it your head? Are you coming down with something?" So saying, she put a warm hand on his forehead. "Well, your temperature feels all right…"
Seamus couldn't help a wry grin. "I'm fine, mam."
Rachel smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I just…oh, you know me. You left rather suddenly. I wanted to make sure you didn't die. I'm rather fond of you, you know…"
He watched her ramble on, his thoughts racing. Could she…like him back? Was that even plausible? She'd asked him to dance, after all…
"Rachel."
She stopped talking abruptly, and he put his hands on her shoulders. "Rachel, are you truly my friend?"
Rachel was obviously taken aback. "That's a weird question, but yes, Seamus, of course I am! I know sometimes it doesn't seem like it, but I am, I really am."
Seamus studied her face, but all he could find was sincerity and a touch of concern. There was no trace of any affection that could be taken to mean more…he dropped his hands, utterly defeated. "Oh…okay. Good. I—yeah." With a deep sigh, he shoved all his feelings for her into a shadowy corner of his mind and forbade himself to think about them any more. She was his friend, and that was it.
Rachel saw something very brief flicker across Seamus' freckled face after she gave her answer. What had it been? He smiled down at her then, and she suddenly realized the import of what had just happened—he had just reaffirmed his place in her heart, whether intentional or not. She fought back a sudden wave of unexpected tears. He was just her friend. Only her friend.
Idiot! she thought scathingly. Why'd you even get your hopes up? Out loud, she said, "Well, if you're sure you're okay, we can go back inside."
Seamus realized just how cold he was at that moment, and then noticed that Rachel was actually shivering and had goose bumps up her bare arms. "Oh—! Yeah, sure. You must be freezing."
She nodded, and they hurried back inside. Lavender was waiting impatiently, and when she saw the two return, she stalked over and said, "Why were you with her, Seamus?"
"Look, Lavender. Rachel's been my friend for years. You know that. Am I not allowed to spend time with her?"
Lavender didn't look too happy, but she resignedly shook her head, then she and Seamus left Rachel to dance some more.
It was at about this time that Katelyn decided she was sorry for being so rude to Wes, and decided to try and find him to kiss and make up. (Hopefully more of the former.)
"Hey, Calvin?" she asked, approaching Wes' Ravenclaw friend. "D'you happen to know where Wes is?"
Calvin gave her an amused, patronizing look and snorted out a laugh. "He's with Prunella. His girlfriend."
Katelyn blinked. "His what?"
"His girlfriend. You know, chick he dates and snogs and shags." Calvin gave her a look that said 'just how stupid are you?'
Katelyn blanched and swallowed hard, feeling the familiar stinging burn in her nose that heralded a flood of humiliated tears. Choking out a polite "thank you", she fled the Hall and had just entered a random hallway when she heard Wes' deep laugh.
"Wes?" she called.
The laughter stopped immediately, and a girl said, "Did you hear that?"
"I'll go see," came Wes' voice. He came out into the hallway. "Katelyn? Oh, for cripes' sake, you desperate slut. Get a life!"
"Who is it, Wes?" A dark-haired girl came out into the hall behind him, and it took Katelyn a moment to register her name: Prunella Mauvaise…a Slytherin.
Without waiting for another hateful epithet to be flung her way, Katelyn picked up her skirts and ran blindly away.
Meanwhile, an only slightly happier Rachel sat alone at a table back in the Great Hall, steadily kicking the chair next to her as her foul mood increased in direct proportion to the hormonal moods she felt shifting around inside of her. Of all nights these feelings had to appear on, they had to pick Christmas night, the Yule Ball.
The Weird Sisters struck up a slow tune, and Rachel's heart wrenched at the thought that Seamus would be dancing it with Lavender, not—she sat up as he approached her.
"Will you dance with me?" he asked frankly.
"Yes," Rachel answered without a moment's hesitation. "…But where's Lavender?"
"She said something about wanting to be the only girl not looking ghoulish. I think she's doing makeup or something." He took her hand and led her out onto the floor. "Sorry, it's a slow song. Is…is that okay?"
"Sure, why not," Rachel answered, trying not to read too much into everything.
Seamus paused. "It's been really handy that you haven't needed to fix your face."
"That's good."
"I mean, I think you look pretty, no matter what Lavender says."
Rachel fought a blush, and the two stood awkwardly on the floor for a minute. "Thanks, Seamus. Erm…"
They were both unsure as how to proceed. But finally, Seamus stepped closer and sheepishly put his arms out. Rachel stepped into them and linked her hands, albeit nervously, behind his neck.
"We never practiced this, not slow dancing," he said, beginning to dance.
Rachel shrugged. "First time for everything, eh?"
"Yeah."
"Ow—foot!"
"Sorry, sorry."
They bumbled along for a minute, until their inner pendulums equaled out and they hit a comfortable rhythm. Rachel struggled, however, feeling Seamus' warm hands through her dress. She desperately wanted to put her cheek on his shoulder and feel him stroke her hair. But of course he wouldn't, and she couldn't—too late. Rachel found herself resting her cheek on his broad shoulder, her heart pounding with adrenaline, but he didn't say anything, only tightened his arms around her ever so slightly as he guided her past Dean and Hannah, who had now stopped dancing completely and were rather busy with snogging.
The dance passed in silence. Neither of the two could think of a pertinent thing to say under the circumstances: it was like handling a nuclear bomb. A light touch and you could drop it, but holding it too tightly would trigger it…so they both opted not to handle it at all.
When the song ended, they stepped apart, slightly sheepish. "I'd probably better ask Lavender to dance, too," Seamus said. "it looks like she's on the warpath again."
Rachel grinned. "Okay. In the interest of general peace, ask her."
He smirked in response, and they went their separate ways once again. Rachel returned to sit alone at a table, while the Weird Sisters struck up yet another slow dance. And she tried—how hard she tried!—not to watch as Seamus put his arms around Lavender and she put her head on his shoulder exactly as Rachel had. Of course, Lavender was hugging him as if he was her boyfriend already…Rachel couldn't see Seamus' face, but it looked as though he were whispering in her ear.
Tears were gathering in Rachel's eyes, and she blinked them back hurriedly. Horrors! Her nose was stinging and her throat closing up—either there was a cat nearby or she was about to begin crying over a boy in front of people who hadn't seen her break her tough façade in over two years.
It was definitely the latter. With a loud crash, she knocked her chair over and fled to the Entrance Hall, where her determination crumbled and she curled up on the steps and began to cry for the second time in two days over the same boy.
What seemed like a long while passed before Rachel got ahold of herself and managed to force her tears back into her heart. She was just wiping her swollen eyes and taking deep, cleansing breaths when the doors to the Great Hall creaked open a second time and Seamus came out.
"Hey, Su, I was just looking for y—" Seamus came to a juddering halt when he caught sight of Rachel's tear-flushed face and despondent posture. "Rachel—are you okay?" So saying, he hurried to sit beside her and put a comforting arm over her shoulders. (The irony of the fact that this was now the fifth time that night that one of them had come to the rescue of the other was lost on them both.)
Rachel shook him off bitterly. "Buzz off, Seamus."
Seamus blinked, surprised. "Hey—what's the matter? Are you mad at me?"
She moved away from his repeated attempt to touch her. The image of him whispering into Lavender's ear flashed through Rachel's mind, and she covered her mouth as more tears threatened. "Leave me alone. Please."
"Come on. You can't just shun me like this without telling me why." Obviously, Seamus thought she was just playing hard-to-get, so he put his arms around her and held on despite her angry protests and efforts to remove his arms.
Suddenly, Rachel's patience snapped, and she turned and slapped him sharply across the face. Seamus stiffened immediately and dropped his arms. "The hell was that for?"
"Don't swear at me," she snapped back.
"Don't sweat at you," he repeated loudly. "Why the bloody hell not?"
"Because I bleeding hate it, that's the bloody hell why!" Rachel cried.
Seamus stood up angrily. "Then maybe you should've told me why you're so unhappy! Ever thought of that? Huh?"
"Yes, but you're too stupid to understand why!" Rachel shouted back, scrambling to her feet.
"Oh, I'm stupid, now!"
"Now? You've always been stupid!"
"Jackass!"
"Whiskeyhead!"
"Redneck!"
"Potato farmer!"
There was a slight lull in the shouting match, for the two had just exhausted the insults that had worked so well when they were second years. Then old grudges surfaced, and it began again.
"Crybaby!"
"Toadface!"
"Showoff!"
"Mama's boy!"
"Teacher's pet!"
"Punching bag!"
"Frizzy-hair!"
"Freckle-face!"
"Long-nose!"
"Red-ears!"
There was a ringing silence, in which Rachel and Seamus glared at each other. The air was crackling with tension. Finally, Rachel snapped, bursting into angry tears and running back to Gryffindor Tower.
That would teach her to like a friend.
--
(A/N: Phew! That's done! The reason it took so long and IS so long is, Schmo, Schmurf, and I all wrote our own versions of the Yule Ball, and then it was up to me to combine them all! So I hope this satisfies you two. :D)