I have about a once every two week goal. That's not hard, because I'd rather do it right than fast. That being said, I need a grammar beta (a real grammar storm trooper, if that's possible), and this is a copy that I haven't gotten back from my beta yet, as I sent it to her far too late, so it's going to have problems. I'll just replace this with the beta version when I get it. Thanks for the reviews ahead of time.
Pat
/Author's Note
Chapter 18 - The Yule BallLater, Harry was reluctantly preparing to meet with Hermione. He had his potions text, the book that listed the binding potion, and quite a lot of parchment. Not to his surprise, he saw the broad back and sandy blond hair of the American almost immediately. Hermione was almost hidden behind Connor; and to make her even harder to spot, she had hunched over, as if she was ashamed to be there. Next to them sat Neville, who was glancing around and looking somewhat nervous. To Harry's surprise, when he got closer, he saw that Ron was on the other side of Hermione; he was completely hidden from the doorway by Connor's bulk. Hermione saw him coming and managed a small wave. When Harry reached the table, he saw a familiar-looking sketch. It took him a moment to place it, by which time he had already slung his bag over that back of the free chair and slouched into it. He had seen that image dozens of times. It was part of the marauder's map, and in fact, it was the basic area that he had trailed Malfoy and Connor to, the day that Connor assaulted Draco and then vanished from the map.
"...behind it." Connor was finishing.
"What's this?" Harry whispered to Neville.
"Operation Ferret," Neville whispered back. "They are talking about how Malfoy has been hanging around in that tower. There's nothing there, so Hermione reckons that's the place to get him."
"...so, we can have one of us on the astronomy tower and one of us in the owlry, and he'd be in between," Hermione pronounced. "Here's what were going to do. Whoever is in the owlry will have the package. They're going to banish it...the best I could without a lot of expensive ingredients is disillusionment, so we'll have to hope that's enough...Harry, was that letter invisible, as well?" Harry shrugged and looked totally lost. "We kind of need to know...he'll be suspicious if he sees a letter flying trough the air and he wasn't supposed to."
"I didn't see it before I hit it, if that's what you mean." Hermione nodded.
"Maybe we shouldn't just banish it then. If it's going to be almost invisible I don't fancy trying to hit it with timing. We could just levitate it at him and summon it from the other side, couldn't we? I mean, it'll be dark." Hermione looked up, shocked.
"Ron, that's brilliant!"
"Well...I have my moments," Ron said sheepishly, turning red and looking down at his hands. "Anyway, you can't expect us to have Fred and George as brothers and have the rest of the Weasleys talent-less when it come to...whatever we're doing."
"Excuse me," Harry said, "but I'm a little lost. What's going on now?"
"Operation Ferret," Hermione whispered. "You arrived a little late so you missed the beginning. Fred and George have sent us a token with the proper spells on it…Ron wanted me to do it, but I kept telling him I wasn't trying to be funny last year. We're just trying to figure out how to get it to Malfoy. Honestly, I don't know how I was talked into this!" she added.
"Can I see it?" He asked. In response she carefully tipped a small token into her hand. He instinctively reached for it, and she jerked her hand back.
"You mustn't touch it with bare skin." It was only then that he realized that she was wearing thin, skintight gloves. He dug in his pockets, and pulled out his mother's gloves, which were still it them. They were tight; doubtless by this time next year they wouldn't fit. For now, they went on like Hermione's…skin tight leather that had some room but otherwise was nearly painted on. The thought flashed through his mind that he was safe for today, but he wouldn't try this again. He didn't want to burst a seam trying to force them on his hands. When he had his hands safely covered, Hermione dropped a small coin carefully into his palm. Harry studied it carefully.
It looked old, with nicked sides and a small chunk taken out of one edge. On one side there was the relief of a man. He looked vaguely like Malfoy, but was indistinct enough to be a distant relative or an ancestor of some type. On the obverse, there was a huge W, ornate and intricately designed.
"What's with this? He can't know more than a handful of people who have 'W' for an initial."
"That's what I thought...then I realized something," she reached into his palm, rotating the coin. The 'W' became an elaborate 'M'. Harry smiled. "Fred and George are far to cunning to miss that. It strikes me that the two of them would have a right laugh knowing that Malfoy was treasuring something marked with their initial," Hermione allowed herself a small chuckle. Harry privately believed that Hermione's appreciation of Fred and George's various forms of mischief was often considerable. She certainly didn't approve of them deciding not to return, but she couldn't argue that they didn't have a cleverness about them that defied convention. Harry was certain that the only reason she had supported them as much as she had was that she was innately curious, and they did tend to pique that. Whether it was intentional, as Ron had pointed out, or just dumb luck the result had been the same; Hermione getting drawn into a plan she didn't approve of but nonetheless, one to which she contributed. A potential problem occurred to him.
"What's to stop him from writing home and finding out they know nothing about it?" In response, Hermione wordlessly slid a single piece of parchment across the table.
Take this talisman. It is an object of great power and no small value to the Malfoys. I have obliviated myself to remove all traces of it from my memory, rather than let it fall into the hands of another. You know of whom I speak. Guard it well...keep it with you always. You must never speak of it in my presence. Others can read minds as easily as you this page. Burn this letter. --N--
"Why 'N'? Why not 'L'?"
"Lucias is still in hiding. It makes more sense that is mother sends him an heirloom than his father," Hermione answered.
"Nice. So...what is the plan?" Harry asked.
"Like we said...We place this in an envelope and do a disillusion charm on the envelope. We'll have to do it up right, because even though he's an arrogant prat, he is a seeker. We can't risk him seeing it," Hermione started. Ron took up where she left off.
"You and me seal it with the wax you found, then one of us wears the cloak up to the astronomy tower and summons it strait at 'im. One of us will be one the other side to levitate it out of the owlry."
"And it has to be against his skin to work?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. "What...what's it do?"
"No clue, mate," Ron pronounced.
"What?"
"I asked Fred and George not to tell me," Hermione said. "Their sense of humor can be a little...coarse. I knew if they told me, I'd lose my nerve. I had them send me a packet." She held up a securely sealed envelope. Harry mulled it all over in his head.
"And you say it has to touch his skin to work?" he asked. Ron, Hermione, and Neville nodded. "Well you should put it on a chain or something. It's more likely he'll wear it around...I doubt he'd ever take it off then." Hermione smiled nervously.
"Brilliant," Neville remarked. Ron slapped Harry on the back.
"That's thinking, mate!" Harry grinned in response.
"What I need you to do," Hermione started, dropping the coin in the parchment envelope, "is find a way to affix that seal. It has to look right. Leave the rest up to me." Harry nodded, and Hermione collected up her books. "Now, about that potion..."
"Potter, what is this newfound fascination with rodents?"
"Uhhh..." Harry stammered. "I was just thinking of Pettigrew, I guess."
"Well, do not. I will grant you that it's an improvement over your usual tendency to sacrifice Weasley, Granger, and that Patil girl. What did your text say about hypnosis and its ability to obfuscate while actively defending yourself?"
"That they uh...didn't work together?"
"One does not answer a question with a question, Potter. If your text says that, why are you trying to defend while using self-hypnosis as a defense?"
"I don't know sir."
"Are you attempting to use the white rats as a diversion?" Snape was being remarkably civil, considering it was Snape. Normally, he would have insulted James Potter a dozen times by now.
"I may be...at some level. I'm sorry, sir," he breathed out deeply. It was physically painful to treat Snape with that much respect. "It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't. Prepare yourself."
The rest of the lesson went as normal. Snape seemed to be momentarily disinterested in bothering with causing Harry grief, and to his disgust, Harry left the lesson wondering whether or not he could have been pushed harder. He had listened to the old bat tell him he was incompetent so many times that when Harry didn't hear it, he could only assume he was doing something wrong.
The next week flew by in a blur of dancing lessons, end of term tests, and DA lessons. Before he knew it, it was the Friday before classes were set to end. He'd spent the day struggling through classes, and was currently lazily lying about in the Gryffindor common room. He'd walked back from Muggle Studies with Parvati's books every day since he'd shuffled her off for dancing lessons with Connor and Natalie, and he felt proud, as if he was actually trying to do something. It was very satisfying to know that it was hard to break a Muggle Studies text, and in any event, she hadn't opened it in at least a month. She preferred to borrow most of her test answers from Harry. He was actually getting a very good grade in that class, since the little that he did study was mostly because wizards had some very odd ideas about Muggles, and a Muggle-raised student generally wouldn't take that class. Now that his classes were done for a whole two weeks, he was sitting on a lounge next to Ron and Hermione.
"Did you seal up the thing for OF yet?" Hermione lowered her ancient runes book long enough to ask.
"We'll get right to that," Ron said, before Harry had a chance to answer. Lately, he'd been agreeing to nearly everything Hermione said. As it got closer to the Yule Ball, he became more and more worried that she would find a reason not to go with him, and so at least temporarily, Ron had resigned himself to doing actual homework in an attempt to show Hermione that he wasn't completely beyond salvage. Parvati had been strangely absent, and her and Harry hadn't actually talked much over the last four days, excepting the walks back from class. She seemed cranky and irritable, and he didn't know how to approach it. Ginny, on the other hand, had gotten far too comfortable with him around for his liking. He didn't know if he liked her or not...he supposed he did, but it was certainly odd. Not only was she dating Dean, who was on fairly good terms with Harry; she was Ron's little sis, which put enormous pressure on Harry not to do or say anything that could draw her honor into question.
In front of him, Ron was pulling things out of his trunk. In one hand his friend held a small wooden box, and the other he used to dig through the strata of his trunk until he found what he was looking for. With a grunt of triumph, he pulled a candle from the chest in an explosion of socks, quills, and various undergarments. He cursed and stuffed them back in half-hazardly, and then put the candle on his dresser and lit it. From the wooden box he pulled a straight razor, and held it over the flame.
"You don't grow up with Fred and George without knowing how to do things like this," Ron explained, seeing the look on Harry's face. Harry glanced around to ensure they were alone.
"So, I get Neville, but uh...why is Connor involved?"
"Search me. He found out somehow that something was up. Maybe Neville told him. He's the one who's been following Malfoy around though. He claims Malfoy will be in that tower; that he's been following him there for a while. I'm not sure I really trust him." Harry thought about that.
"I think he'll keep his mouth shut. He's not exactly Malfoy's biggest supporter."
"Still," Ron said, eyes flashing towards the door.
"Fetch the wax and envelope," a tiny voice squeaked. It was apparently not the first time the razor had been subjected to such treatment, because it shouted out instructions as if it knew just what to do.
"Hold me the other way, and you won't get so much smoke on the blade. Watch how long I'm in the fire! You'll ruin my temper."
"There's no problem with my temper," Ron muttered. "Except I'm about to lose it. Oi! Say something useful!"
"Fine...fine," the razor complained. "I'm probably quite hot enough. You should only put the seal on me for a moment...just long enough to say your name...unless your name happens to be Winthrop Abernackle. Then I'd just say something good and short...like naughty."
"Hold the letter up," Ron ordered, with an air of authority Harry had seldom heard. Ron took the wax seal and set it on the flat of the razor blade.
"Now! Now!" the razor warned. Ron had already begun to slide the seal off, and it plopped on the envelope, drying almost instantly and looking like it had started there. Malfoy wouldn't be able to tell that the letter was a forgery by the wax seal, that much was certain. There was a small film of liquid wax on the blade, which Ron wiped off with an old sock.
"I must say," the razor piped, "that was a fine job."
"Thanks," Ron replied, as if it wasn't the least bit odd that they were having a conversation with the razor.
Harry didn't see Parvati at all that night, which only bothered him a little. He was so busy that for a moment he felt guilty for not seeking her out, and then felt that he had too much to do to be guilty. He had Christmas presents to buy for one...he still had to get Ron's and he wanted to buy something for Parvati, assuming they were still an item. He momentarily had time to wonder if that would be a problem. Then reality punched him in the nose again and he snapped back to wondering why a Chudley Cannons robe was the same cost as a Hollyhead robe, when the Harpies had come up just shy of a championship and the Cannons had been at the bottom of the league for a long time, last year being no exception. He was a little worried about Ron resenting that much money going towards his gift, but Ron had lightened up considerably as he had garnered more and more from Fred and George's exploits. Bit by bit, the lanky Gryffindor had been purchasing back his assorted paraphernalia from Harry. It seemed to be a point of pride for him that he was even able.
The envelope for Operation Ferret promptly disappeared into a small sack. Ron was careful not to handle it with his bare fingers, and Harry didn't deal with it at all. From there they went to the astronomy tower, which was empty, because it was so cold that sneaking up there when it was specifically disallowed (classes had ended for the year) seemed like more trouble than it was worth. Harry could just see Malfoy's glowing blond hair on the tower in front of them. Harry was now certain that Malfoy had been on his way to that particular tower when he had gotten waylaid by Connor and beaten senseless. The two of them were standing under Harry's invisibility cloak, which was a bit tight, but it was so cold that he was thankful for another source of body heat, so he didn't complain. Beside him, Ron was rubbing his hands together briskly, palming his wand.
"You know, I've been mostly left out of things. It sounds like you've gotten this planned out," Harry said. Ron nodded in his general direction.
"Okay mate, they've disillusioned it and Hermione's going to levitate it. I give it a summon and it ought to run right into Malfoy...he's almost directly in between us. Just like we said earlier. You didn't miss anything really...a bunch of the Yank thinking he some kind of ninja, or something, and my brothers lending us a hand. That's all"
"How do we know that he wasn't going to take the letter off the bird's leg himself?"
"I guess we don't," Ron said. "We're just going to have to hope."
"That doesn't reassure me."
"No worries, mate. She's going to change the date on the galleon when she's ready. Half the school has them, but they're so used to it by now that they'll probably just ignore it. That means 'go' to us though." They waited around several more moments until a current of warmth flowed from Harry's pocket to his leg; the galleon's date had been changed. Ron rubbed his hands together again.
"Here goes nothing...Accio operation-ferret-letter." Harry had learned long ago that summoning worked best if you were as specific as possible. Ron was simply avoiding the problems that would arise if every letter in Hogwarts mysteriously made for the Astronomy tower at once. After a moment, Malfoy jumped as though he'd been slapped, glancing around wildly. Ron hurriedly lowered his wand, breaking the spell. Malfoy continued to look around suspiciously, bending to pick up the letter, and shaking that talisman from the package. His face was screwed up in a mask of confusion, but after a while he held up one arm to examine a small silvery object on a chain. After some hesitation, he let it drop around his neck. Ron and Harry both let out deep breaths and Malfoy glanced over at their hiding place. At almost the same moment someone banged through the door to the tower roof, carrying something bulky.
Harry recognized the gold flecks in her hair immediately, and her expensive-looking telescope said that astronomy was very important to her; the she wasn't up here for any moonlight snog.
"Come on!" Ron whispered. Malfoy had already fled. They scooted along the wall, where their feet would be in the shadows, and tried to slip through the wooden door before it latched. There was a lot of ground to cover, and though Parvati was making quite a bit of noise and they didn't have to worry about someone overhearing their shuffling, they didn't make it to the door before it shut securely with a click.
"Piss," Ron moaned softly, "there's no way she's not going to notice the door opening and closing on its own. We're gonna' have to make a run for it."
"Wait," Harry stopped his friend, who was already tensing in preparation for the dash. "I have a better idea." He waited until Parvati's back was turned and she seemed engrossed in astronomical equipment, and then yanked open the door, shoved a surprised Ron through, and turned around as quickly as he could. He had time to see Parvati jump and glance at the door.
"Harry?"
"Parvati."
"What...what are you doing?"
"I just saw you coming up here, and I wanted to talk to you."
"You just wanted to talk to me, on an abandoned rooftop, with no coat or apparent concern for your health?"
"I...didn't want to miss you. I had to hurry."
"And why didn't you want to miss me?" That was a good question, and he had what was, in his mind, a good answer.
"The ball is in four days, and you still haven't answered me," Harry said.
"Tell me why I should say yes then, Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world." Harry suddenly wished he'd had more of a chance to plan this all out.
"Because..."
"Because?" Parvati prompted.
"Because I really want to dance with you." Parvati was staring at him.
"Have you actually learned how?" she asked, glaring at him with huge green eyes, which currently held the moon, the stars, and Harry's attention. In response he stepped forward, hands raised unsteadily. A girl like Parvati had to be interested in more than just waltzing, yet that's what he had spent the most time practicing, so that's what he was going to do. She was wearing a large fluffy coat, which made it harder to figure out where to put his hands, but she didn't correct him, so he must have been almost right.
To the beat of an imaginary song, Harry and Parvati danced with no one to see them but the moon, millions of stars, and Draco Malfoy, who crouched behind the wall of the short tower, gaping in amazement.
"Here's my man!" Ron announced, while flipping Harry a 'thumbs up' sign. Harry, who looked somewhat dazed, sat down beside him.
"Well?" Ron asked impatiently.
"She said she'd go, as long as I promised to dance with her the whole night."
"Well, dancing the whole night doesn't sound like my idea of a good time, but what did you say?" Harry got the chance to laugh as he glanced first at the portrait hole, then at his friend.
"What do you think I said? Are you mental? Have you seen Parvati Patil?" He and Ron shared a laugh. "Now I have to get her a gift. You can't ask a girl to that kind of thing and not."
"Well, I have loads of those quills left, and you should see the new frogs that George and Fred sent me. They have cards that can talk." Harry already knew this--long before Ron had, in fact. He had seen a very special prototype card of one Albus Dumbledore.
"I hope you're not suggesting that I buy her some of those."
"Of course not!" Ron replied, though it seemed obvious that it was exactly what he had been saying, "I'll keep my eyes open, that's all." After a pause, Ron looked over to his friend. "Have a look at this." He tossed an envelope on Harry's lap, which Harry eyed suspiciously. The Logo, with it's three interlocking W's, was familiar.
"What's this?"
"That is Operation Ferret. Fred and George gave me that in case we ever need to take it back."
"It's not even open!"
"And I don't intend to open it. Whatever Malfoy gets, he's been asking for. For longer than I've known him."
"So what do you want to do with it?"
"As far as I'm concerned, we can burn it," Ron answered. He looked at the letter, then tucked it back in to his Temporalism text. The mere fact that he had a schoolbook with reach on the day that classes ended said how much he'd changed, either for Hermione or himself. After a few oddly silent moments, he looked at Harry with a familiar gleam in his eye.
"So...ready to see the new Chocolate Frog cards?" A third year who happened to be passing by stopped abruptly.
"Which new cards?" she asked. Harry noticed that it was one of the girls Ron had bilked with his chess game. Ron looked up proudly.
"Would you believe talking cards?"
"Big deal," said the gambler who had lost the five Galleons. "What can they say that's interesting anyway? Hi, I'm Mildred Moner...blah blah blah."
"Oh, ye of little faith," Ron remarked to the girl, who had a sizable entourage. "Watch this." With a flourish, Ron produced an ordinary looking Chocolate Frog from his pocket. He made a big deal of pulling open the flaps, and stuffed the entire frog into his mouth before it could do so much as wiggle.
"Gross!" cried the girl with the Ludo Bagmen gleam, though she was still staying around to watch. Ron looked at the card, which featured Newt Scamander. The slightly scarred and singed wizard looked up at Ron and nodded politely. Ron gulped down the remains of the frog.
"Can I ask you a question?" Ron said conversationally. Newt smiled and nodded.
"Certainly, my boy," he wheezed in his faint and raspy voice.
"How many species of dragon are native to North America?"
"There are no species native to North America, although many examples exist of various Asiatic breeds migrating that far. In indigenous lore, dragons usually are referred to not as general species, but as individuals, leading to the belief that a relatively low number of dragons ever made it to the new world; low enough so as to acquire individual recognition. Common Welsh Greens and the Spanish Steeltooth have both been successfully transplanted there, and it has long been discussed whether the Windigo may be some type of dragon, dragonkin, or dragon derivative. As you know, dragons require the magical energy of humans to exist, and until recently the population was not such that it supported typical European or Asian breeds. Windigos are well known for devouring hapless witches and wizards, or even Muggles, and may in fact be very small dragons that derive their nourishment from directly consuming a living being's energy, rather than the passive sort of absorption common to other, better known breeds. This is all speculative, you understand, North American indigenous records were oral records, and not enough has been garnered in their short documented history to tell for certain."
There was a dead silence in the common room as nearly everyone had stopped to see what the commotion was about, and Newt grinned up happily from under his smoking beard.
"Thank you, Mister Scamander," Ron said politely.
"Don't mention it, son. Glad you're taking a healthy interest!" As Newt said that last bit, he slowed down and then stopped moving entirely, to the point that his final words sounded like a Muggle record player that Harry had once had and played with, pressing on the record to slow it down and give everyone impossibly low voices.
"Ronald, I will give you a Galleon for a Goshawk, right here and now," the betting girl said, with an absolutely straight face.
"I can't tell you what you'll get; it's like an actual Chocolate Frog...it's a roll of the dice, really. I can tell you that you have about a minute after you open them to get all you can, and that there's no guarantee they'll want to answer any questions. On the other hand..." he shrugged. Newt Scamander's performance had spoken for itself. That was the cue for pandemonium to ensue, and in less than five minutes, Ron had sold out of his meager stock of Chocolate Frogs. He'd even moved them in spite of the near certainty that someone would be getting the traditionally hard ones to move, like Musidora Barkwith, who composed the unfinished Wizarding Suite, which prominently featured an exploding tuba..
"D'ya hear that sound?" Ron asked. "Sounds like a train. It sounds like my train." Harry laughed, and accepted another galleon from Ron, in exchange for some of his old Quiddich Weekly magazines.
"I just wouldn't count on those being allowed for long," Harry remarked. "I can't imagine what Hermione will say when she finds out about them."
"I'll just tell her I'm learning from the experts," Ron said, after a pause. Harry grinned, imagining that conversation.
Harry had nothing to do the entire next day, and he wasted the majority of it on a large winged chair in the common room. About halfway though the day, Parvati appeared and sat on his legs. It was awkward, but he supposed that he would have to get used to it, if she was going to end up being a girlfriend, which was what he assumed was happening. Parvati didn't try to talk. Instead, she merely appeared, perched on him, and went to sleep. They got a few glances, but so what? Like he didn't anyway.
No one seemed to want to do anything over the break and aside from his dancing lessons with Connor, which Connor and Natalie insisted that he come to, he was remarkably lazy, even skiving off the work he was supposed to do over the break for his reduced class load.
The Monday before the ball Harry sat down next to Ron and the Gryffindor table.
"I need your help," Harry said
"Wha?" Ron murmured, somehow managing to eat toast and drink at the same time. He made it a point to sit on the side of the table facing the Slytherins...if the twins came through with Operation Ferret, he didn't want to miss it.
"I need to buy her a gift...I need it to be good, but not too much. You know?"
"I know what you mean, but I don't really know what to tell you. I mean, with Hermione, at least we have an idea what she wants."
"Maybe I should ask Hermione."
"Maybe you should," he said, shrugging. He was going to say more until a voice came from behind them.
"Should what?" Hermione asked.
"He needs to buy something for Parvati," Ron managed, through a mash of pumpkin juice and toast.
"Get her what you'd any girl," Hermione said, and then listed things off while emphasizing then by ticking her fingers. "Perfume, jewelry, quality chocolates...it shouldn't be that hard."
"Hmph," Harry replied. It seemed plenty hard to him. He didn't want to get just any old ring or sweet-smelling water. Chocolates seemed somehow paltry and not grown-up enough for him. Although he was counting the minutes until the Yule Ball; at the same time he was anxious for the next week, bored, and dreading the resumption of classes. Meals seemed to pass too slow and too fast at the same time. Parvati stayed sitting next to Lavender, but she did flash a look at Harry that he had been barely brave enough to return.
"Next time, you'd better go sit by her," Hermione whispered in his ear, almost crossly. Harry nodded, but he wasn't sure whether to look forward to that or dread it, or possibly both. When the next lunchtime rolled around, he nervously sat between Ginny and Parvati. He wished it had been Ron sitting next to him, but it least it was a Weasley, and that was a step in the right direction.
"Hi Harry!" Parvati greeted him brightly, then immediately ignored him and turned to Lavender.
"That's rude!" Ginny whispered in his ear. He shrugged...frankly he was somewhat relieved at not having to talk to her so much. In his mind, now that he'd gotten her to agree to go to the ball with him, the less said between them, the better. It eliminated the chance that he would say something that would make her think again. That was, in his estimation, a fairly reasonable fear. No one had ever accused him of saying the right thing as a matter of habit.
As much as Harry wanted them to, the next few days wouldn't simply fly by and get it over with. Several girls asked him out, and even though he got quite talented at politely refusing, he hid from the situation whenever he could. That meant he didn't leave the common room, or even the dormitory on Tuesday, which was the actual day of the ball. The sole exception was his trip to the infirmary.
"What now, Mister Potter?" Madame Pomfrey was polite but characteristically terse.
"I wonder if I didn't catch something. I feel a little sick to my stomach. You know with Dean and all I figure it's just a matter of time until I get it." Madame Pomfrey glanced and him, tilting his chin up and staring at his neck and ears.
"Oh, you've caught something alright. You're spot on...it's been going 'round."
"Is it bad?" Harry asked.
"Terrible," Madame Pomfrey declared.
"Will I...will I have to stay home tonight?" The thought was in a tiny way comforting, but he had to admit that he had been looking forward to this an awful lot since Parvati had said yes.
"Not if you do exactly what I tell you to do," Madame Pomfrey said, sternly. That was good news.
"What is that?"
"I want you to go back to the dorm at get a good hour of rest. Then I want you to examine yourself in the mirror. Pay close attention to your eyes and lips. Make sure they don't look funny."
"So far, so good," Harry announced. "Then what?"
"Then put on your dress robes, go to the ball, and forget about being nervous. Everyone there will be nervous! They'll be too busy to worry about you."
"But what is it?"
"Anxiety, Potter. There are plenty of alchemical remedies, but they all quit working sometime. On the contrary, learning to deal with it gets rid of the problem forever." Madame Pomfrey looked down her nose with clear grey eyes, and with a hint a smile, ushered Harry out.
He did end up taking her advice, though he was having trouble sleeping when he was so wound up. He was finally able to drift off, and in what seemed like no time at all Ron was shaking him awake.
"It's now or never, Harry."
"Never, then. I've changed my mind, I don't want to go."
"As much time as you spent conning Parvati into giving you another chance? I don't think so, mate. Get up." Harry moaned and squeezed his eyes shut.
"What are you doing?" Connor asked.
"It doesn't matter, you're all still here. It's not working." Harry struggled to his feet and waved his wand over the dress robes he'd hung out earlier, where a faint bull's eye glimmered. Definitely his. The dress robe was much the same as the one he'd had a few years ago, though it was slightly shinier and deeper green, as fashions had changed since then. The shoes also checked out, and his various socks, trousers, and tie. He had no excuse to miss the ball, and he was now starting to wonder if it was physically possible to have butterflies in your stomach, since that's what it felt like. Ron had new dress robes, which were a deep and tasteful shade of reddish-brown, while Dean, Neville, and Seamus had chosen to don the more standard black, although their robes did feature fancy cuts, patterns, or contrasting trim.
Connor, on the other hand, almost looked like a bad joke. His robes, which had been the ones that Harry had seen the first day, were shiny green and blue. After some staring, Harry realized that they were all the same color, and it only appeared to be green or blue based on how you were seeing it. They were cut very loose, and billowed around him, making him seem even bigger than he was. They didn't look used or inexpensive, so apparently their tastes ran differently in America. Harry had decided that Connor must have gotten them on purpose and rather swiftly confirmed that he wouldn't have been caught dead in them. His own robes were a little on the tight side, but Seamus insisted they were supposed to be that way. It was a welcome relief from the Dudley-tent-sized shirts he wore on holiday.
"You should wear those," Connor said, pointing to the dragon-hide boots the twins had given him. Harry picked one up and compared it to his dress shoe, which was not only so shiny he could see his reflection, but almost brilliant enough to see the color of his eyes. The boots, in contrast, were shiny, but in a subtle way, and the texture made them a better match for the robes.
"I'm not sure why I'm taking advice from someone dressed like you, but I think you're right," he said pulling his wand and checking the Sigil on the insole of the boot...the only place the charm resistant leather would allow him to have one; how they managed to stick the sizing charm and cooling charms on them was a mystery that he really didn't care to solve, but a mystery nonetheless. Satisfied, he tugged the boots on. Once again they surprised him with their comfort and weight. He would have an easier time dancing in these than his dress shoes, he was sure of it.
"Well, are we presentable?" Seamus asked.
"I don't know about him," Dean nodded at Connor. "We're all handsome devils."
"I don't like my robes skin tight;" Connor shrugged. He was the closest to the door, so he was the first one down the stairs. A few of the students that were already there tittered, but they weren't going to risk a fight this close to the ball. The younger students, who couldn't go to the ball, might have been more vocal but they had more respect for Connor, or more likely, Connor's size.
"Where are the women?" Connor said to no one in particular.
"They've been waiting upstairs..." a second year piped. "We've been waiting for you. We are supposed to get them when you came down. We weren't expecting you all at once!" She dashed up the stairs to the women's dormitory. Somewhere above them a door slammed, and their respective dates began the promenade down the stairs. Katie Bell, the first, was wearing a deep purple dress. Her shoes had ribbons all the way up her legs, like a ballerina's. It helped accentuate the fact that she had shapely legs, from years and years of a very athletic life. She was pretty, no doubt, but Harry thought her legs may have been the best part of her. Seamus had asked her to accompany him after much deliberation and fretting...in between curses in the room of requirement for the DA. His timing was questionable; she had promptly stunned him, and left her answer with a set of welts on his stomach. Still, Harry reckoned that Seamus was a lucky man to be there with her.
Natalie was the youngest person there, and very likely she'd be one of the youngest at the ball. She was petite and lithe, and wearing a dress that only accentuated it. Next to Conner, she would look positively tiny. The one positive aspect was that her dress was somewhat sheer, so it flowed as well; at least she'd match Connor in that aspect. The dress was black so she didn't exactly match or mis-match with Connor's robes of shimmering green and blue. She walked up to American and eyed him carefully, but didn't speak.
Lavender was naturally dressed in a pale lavender dress, one that contrasted with her equally pale skin. Glitter was apparently the next 'in' thing, and the glitter that Lavender was wearing was silver, blue, and purple, and it laced her hair, which she had in some sort of fancy braid. Harry had time to think that she may have actually been the prettiest girl in their year, but only when she wasn't talking. Neville took her hand hesitantly.
"You make a good autumn," Natalie said softly. Lavender giggled.
"Thank you!"
It was mildly amazing that she had chosen to go with Neville, but since about half way through the first half of classes, around the end of October, an astonishing number of women were showing him a surprising amount of affection. More that one had actually hinted that they would be glad to accompany him, and it helped that Ginny had thrown in a nice word about how he was a good date, and how had danced the whole time with her the last time around. She must have kept the part about him stepping on her toes to herself.
"What's the story with that?" Ron had asked one day, upon observing the continuous stream of women that seemed to trail after Neville like fleas on a dog. None of the women would deign to give him any information, and the best that Harry had been able to come up with was that Neville had been making some sort of potion for them. No one would tell him any more, and he was honestly afraid to ask.
What could make Neville the center of their affections?
Ginny looked very good. It may have been Harry's imagination, but he could have sworn she was glancing at him, almost as it she was waiting for his reaction as much as Dean's. She was wearing a simple white gown with deep brown --almost back-- trim. Her lips were very shiny, her hair was very red, and her eyes were very deep. Harry had to wonder what he'd been thinking all these years. Dean was almost drooling, and he hardly flinched when Ron kicked him in the shin. Harry couldn't blame him.
Hermione looked phenomenal. She was wearing a deep red dress, almost an evening gown, with just a touch of what had to be Lavender's glitter in her hair. She had never been a fan of makeup, so seeing any on her was a shock. Her vermillion lipstick and eye shadow made the dress a full body ensemble, and Ron was truly a fortunate man. Harry heard him gasp from beside them, and he was happy that his best friend was wearing something better than the shabby dress robes of a few years ago. It would be a crime to have Hermione looking that good and Ron in his used robes that were covered with mouldy lace and smelling of mothballs. Ron had looked like he'd mugged a geriatric mental patient, the last time around.
Parvati was later than the rest, enough so that Dean had time to crack a joke.
"Maybe you got stood up," he said, teasing Harry, "you'll have to go stag!" Harry was going to answer when Parvati walked slowly down the stairs. When he got a look at her, he didn't bother talking; he couldn't spare the breath.
Her dress was not unusual...It was a simple black number, similar to Natalie's, but it was trimmed with a dusky gold. She, like Lavender, had glitter, though only gold, and she was wearing it in her hair and in a light dusting one her cheeks and lips. It accentuated the gold flecks in her hair and eyes, and Harry felt a bit overwhelmed. She was completely out of his league, and yet here she was, settling for a guy who had already burned her once.
She had offered him her hand, and he didn't notice until someone nudged him from behind. Her fingernails were painted a metallic gold, and as she stepped lightly down the stairs, Harry saw that her shoes were gold as well.
"Well?" Ginny asked, striking a pose.
"Well I'd never complain," said Connor. Natalie glanced at him, and then aimed a kick at where she thought his shin would be. Conner's billowing robes saved him, and Natalie instead found herself in his iron grip.
"Let go, you ox! You'll smudge my make-up!" Connor released her, and Hermione placed a hand on Natalie's arm as she was about to pull her wand.
"Do you really want to mess him up before the ball?" she asked, in her prefect voice.
"Oh, I can lay a stinging curse on him that won't show at all," Natalie promised. Harry was thinking that Natalie and Connor had a strange sort of relationship, and that he was glad Parvati seemed content with poking him occasionally with a quill, when it came to causing him pain. Still, Connor had asked her to the ball and Natalie had agreed, so whatever it took to keep them happy was between them. Harry had no desire to become involved in their relationship.
"Maybe we should just go to the great hall," Hermione suggested, and no one disagreed. On the way down to the hall, and waiting in line to get in, they got a chance to mingle with all of the other students. All of the girls seemed to be at least four times prettier than normal, and the boys looked quite grown up and dashing; even the Creeveys, who had both managed to score dates for the night. Draco Malfoy was at the front of the line, making an ass of himself as usual, but even Harry had to admit that Draco's clothes were stylish, and he looked almost an uncomfortable amount like a slighter version of Lucias Malfoy.
"Look," Ron mumbled, and pointed. After a second Harry saw it...a glimmering chain that looked awfully familiar; almost invisible under his shirt collar and grey, almost silvery robes.
"Maybe tonight will be the night," Harry whispered back.
"We can only hope," Ron replied.
"Who's the band?" Connor asked, as music started up. It had guitars, a banjo, bagpipes, and possibly a fiddle. Seamus stared at him in disbelief.
"You've never heard of the Banshees?" Connor shook his head, and Seamus scowled. "How did you make it this far...you are a wizard, right?"
"Debatable," he answered, shrugging.
"I guess; if you've never heard of them."
"They aren't as big in America," Natalie said in Connor's defense.
"Do the actually have a banshee?" Connor said, looking though the doors curiously.
"Don't be silly," Seamus said. "Erin Keene is a ghost, but if she was a banshee, she'd kill at least one person at every concert, wouldn't she? That kind of thing thins out the fan base."
"They have ghosts?" a younger Hufflepuff, who was in the D.A. asked.
"A few of them," Ron replied, and Seamus nodded. He actually smiled then.
"Was afraid to go see them for the first couple years," Seamus remarked, "it took quite a bit of mustard to get me there." At least it wasn't as stupid of a question as he'd led them to believe at first.
The students finally flowed into the great hall. Harry saw several more girls with glitter, but none that looked as good as the group he'd come with, in his opinion. Parvati leaned over his shoulder very early on.
"I don't know what those things are you're wearing for shoes, but if you step on my toes with them, I'll curse you into next week." She squeezed a handful of his robes, until he realized she was grasping his wand, which was in a breast pocket. "Don't think you can stop me, either."
Harry just nodded and continued to dance. He hadn't been lying; he really did want to dance with Parvati, and after a while she seemed to lighten up, even resting her head on his shoulder She must have really liked it; she was risking smearing her make-up.
When Harry saw Ron make his way over to the punch bowl, he offered to go get them some.
"Can I have this dance then?" Neville cut it, almost gracefully. Lavender giggled again. She was flushed, as if she hadn't stopped moving since the evening had started. Harry and Neville traded partners just before the song ended.
"I have to go to the little girl's room anyway," Lavender whispered into Harry's ear, "so at least we'll both get a bit of a break." She danced over to the table with the punch, which was on the same wall as the short hall to the lavatories, and Harry found himself by the bowl, staring at a large hunk of something that might have been pineapple.
"Well?" Ron asked, expectantly.
"Well, what?"
"Don't act the fool!" Ron chuckled, though he sounded serious.
"Well, it's better than last time, I suppose."
"I was watching you...you're doing fine. Connor may be a bit off, but he can dance at least." They both looked up for Connor and Natalie, who where doing some kind of dancing that required moving very quickly very close together. The way Natalie's dress flowed and the way they moved made the robes look a lot less ridiculous. They almost looked like they were wearing matching outfits, because it was hard to tell whose were who's when they were moving, as if Connor and Natalie were both wearing robes of black and green-blue. They still weren't Harry's style though.
"What are you giving Hermione for Christmas," Harry asked. He was still at a loss to determine what to get her. Ron gulped down his glass of punch and poured another. His robes were open and he looked overheated.
"Why don't you just ask Lavender what she'd like?" he suggested.
"I thought about that, but then I thought that Lavender was more apt to tell me what she'd buy her. I don't want to get her just another present like Lavender's. I don't suppose that's very nice."
"Eh," Ron dismissed that last statement with a shrug. "I never thought of it that way. Makes sense, I guess."
"What are you giving Hermione though? That might give me an idea."
"She wouldn't take the necklace unless I promised that it was for her birthday and Christmas. I got her a card but she won't allow me to get her anything else. I thought about a book on chess, but I think she might really get mad if I do."
"Mad about what, Ronald?" They both turned to see Luna Lovegood filling a cup by waving her wand over the ladle. That in itself wasn't unusual; anyone wearing a color that was susceptible to splatters or stains often did that, to avoid getting any on them. Luna had a white and blue dress that was really quite pretty, and even she had to do things normally sometimes.
"Er..." Ron stammered, obviously still a bit put off by her. "Harry needs to buy a gift."
"For your date, I assume?" Luna asked. After a long pause during which no one spoke, she added "you'd have to be quite dense not to notice her. She looks very pretty with all that gold. I bet she'd enjoy a nice Safari...Even a short, local one. You could look for Scarlet Ipinaps!"
"Ipin... I was thinking more about earrings or something...something not as plain." Luna tilted her head up in thought.
"Maybe she'd like to go on Safari in her own room. Do you know what a SkyBall is?"
"I'm not sure," Harry said, looking at Ron. Ron obviously didn't have a clue either. Harry didn't know why Luna was so keen on the idea of Safaris.
"They project a sky for you, wherever you are, so you don't ever have to leave the room to look at the night sky. She should enjoy it, one should think, although I rather expect you enjoy the trips to the astronomy tower." Harry blushed furiously, until he almost matched the punch.
"How did he get in here?" Ron asked, not paying attention to either of them. Harry followed his gaze to Dennis Creevey, who was talking to his brother and wearing robes that looked very much like a Muggle suit.
"Oh, I invited him," Luna replied smoothly, as if they hadn't been just discussing something else.
"Do you fancy Dennis?" Ron asked, managing not to sound offensive in any way, which, considering that he was talking to "Loony" Lovegood about Dennis Creevey, was an accomplishment for him. They were two of the people who unintentionally aggravated Ron the most.
"Not at all," Luna replied, "but no one would ever ask me here and he wanted to see the ball, so where's the harm in it, really? Who knows...he may just have some affection for me?" She excused herself with the two cups of punch, and walked back to where Dennis was standing. Dennis accepted the punch and pointed at the same time, nearly slopping it on Luna.
"You know, I want to laugh at that, but something's stopping me," Ron said softly.
"It's called a heart, Ron," Harry replied, now somewhat recovered. The thought had never occurred to him, but he was glad that someone had asked her, even if it was Dennis Creevey. Somehow, he didn't think Dennis would be bothered by anything unusual that she did. As he watched them, he saw Parvati studying them from the corner of his eye. Since he had gotten his two glasses of punch a while ago, he lifted them in a bit of a salute to Ron and made his way back, where he handed one to her.
"You took quite an interest in Lovegood," Parvati said, in a deceptively conversational manner. Harry wasn't going to be fooled that easily.
"She's my friend."
"You don't see me talking to all my guy friends." Fair point. He still didn't like this possessiveness, although he supposed he'd asked for it.
"All right," Harry answered, "what do I have to do to convince you I'm here with you?" In response, Parvati set down her now-empty cup and wrapped her arms around his neck. Later on, they were sitting in their room, relating their respective nights to each other.
"You didn't look that bad, Harry," Connor said. "I was watching, and you could have done worse." Conner was leaning up against his headboard. Apparently Natalie had hexed him several times during the night, and bright red welts crossed his bare chest.
"Thanks to you," Harry said. "You know, I much preferred the waltzing to regular dancing."
"Whyzzat?" Ron asked.
"Think about it..." Harry answered. "Where're your hands if you're waltzing?" Ron smiled
"You dog!" Dean said, in between hacks.
"Say, where do you suppose Neville is?" Harry asked, looking at the empty bed.
"I suppose Neville is having a better night than all of us," Seamus said glumly. He and Katie had less than a perfect evening.
"'Course. You know Lavender isn't back yet. The real question is where they found the room. I'd give a galleon for a peek into the room of requirement right about now." They all laughed.
"You look like you had a good night, Potter."
"Why would you say that?" Harry asked. Dean shook with a spasm of coughs, which seemed to bother him the most when he was laughing.
"She came back with no glitter on her lips!" he managed, between hacks.
"First of all, quit spraying germs about," Harry replied. "Secondly, the glitter on her lips washed off when she drank the punch." Ron was laughing and holding a finger over his lips as if he was saying shut-up Harry.
"Is that so?" Seamus asked.
"Of course!"
"Uh huh. So it's on yours because you shared cups?" he casually shot back. Harry wiped his hands over his lips. There on the back of his hand were the treacherous telltale tiny flecks of gold. Everybody including him burst into laughter. The Yule Ball had been a resounding success.