A/N: Chap 30 Review Responses are in my forums. Thanks for reading.

Chapter Thirty-One: A Dangerous Dance

Three days after word leaked about the Ball, Ginny Weasley walked up to Harry in the common room and said, in a no-nonsense tone, "You're taking me."

Harry stared at her in horror, trying desperately to voice some objection as to why he couldn't take her, when in truth he hadn't figured out who he could ask yet. He managed to make a few squeaking noises before Angelina Johnson proved that she really was his friend.

"Sorry, Gin-Gin," she said, echoing Fred's pet name for the youngest Weasley, "Fourth years and above only. In fact they wanted to make it Fifth Years only, except of course for Harry. I understand there's going to be real firewhisky there." Then to make Ginny even more upset, she added, "not to mention lots of hungry, randy, un-bonded witches. There just isn't room for a third-year girl. Sorry."

Ginny stared pure hatred at the older Chaser. "I can't understand why Fred likes you, you… cow!"

"Hell, Gin, you just saw why I like her," Fred crowed, moving in to give his girlfriend a kiss on the cheek. "'Cause that was just brilliant."

"Indeed, that deserves a kiss!" Georgina added, moving in to kiss Angelina's other cheek, while Ginny continued to stare daggers at them.

Ginny finally turned back to Harry. "Is that true, about the Third years?"

Too relieved and yet fearful to speak, Harry just nodded his head. Ginny's eyes welled with tears. She stamped her foot, and then turned and ran from the common room. When she was gone, Harry slumped onto Neville's shoulders. "Why do I feel like I just avoided a fate worse than death?"

"That's my sister you're talking about," Ron said, looking up from his chess match with Seamus.

"So where were you when I needed you?" Harry demanded.

"Are you barmy? That girl's crazy."

The twins laughed uproariously, while Angelina looked appraisingly at Harry. "You know this is a political event, right?" she finally asked him.

Harry stared at her blankly a moment. "What do you mean? I thought it was just a dance."

Georgina rolled her eyes and then hit his shoulder, hard. "Dunderhead! It's a ball at the headquarters of the International Confederation of Wizards. And where there are Elders…"

"There are Coven Dames," Fred said. "And where there are Dames and Elders in the same room…"

"There is politics," Angelina finished. "Morgana's nipples, you two, you're both starting to wear off on me. I feel dirty all of the sudden." Both twins kissed her cheeks and laughed. "Point is, Harry, you need to take someone who can actually help you. Someone who's studied enough about the ICW to tell you who people are and…"

She continued talking, but the word 'study' started a chain of thought in his head that continued to roll into a monstrous idea that went against Gregoria Bulstrode's advice, and would likely offend many of the pure-blooded covens. It was perfect, but…

"Er, right, I have an idea now. Thanks, Angelina. Who are you taking, by the way?"

"George Fassbender," she said.

"Who's that?" Harry asked.

"The first boy she saw in the Great Hall," Fred said with a laugh. "Kid looked like she'd just slapped him. Walked up just like Ginny did and told him he was going with her."

"Where do you think Ginny got the idea?" Angelina said haughtily.

"How about the rest of you guys?" Harry asked.

"Lee for me," Georgina said in a sing-song voice.

"Belinda Hopkins, of course," Fred said with a shrug.

"New dress and all, to show off her tan lines," Georgina said, smirking.

Eventually the three of them broke off and Neville took the next game of wizarding chess after Seamus lost to Ron. It was just after dinner, so Harry had a few hours until curfew. With a last look around the room, he grabbed his satchel, told whoever was listening that he was going to the library, and left the tower.

When he reached his destination, he knocked until he heard a voice say, "What do you want, Potter?"

He didn't even ask how she knew who he was. "Are you dressed?"

"Does it matter?" came the response through the door.

Harry sighed. "No, I guess not. I was hoping I could ask you a question."

The door opened to reveal Sybil Trelawney in a sheer silk robe that barely covered her long, lanky body. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail and she had a tumbler of sherry in her hand. She also had a trail of blood running down from her nose and dark circles under her eyes. Harry blinked in alarm. "Do you need a pain potion?"

"Already took one," she said in a distant tone. "Come in, then."

She stumbled after him as he stepped into the Divination classroom. A wireless sat in a corner playing a song he didn't recognize, and the air hung heavy with incense and marijuana smoke. "Professor, is marijuana really harmless to magicals?"

"Unfortunately," she muttered as she walked in and collapsed onto her divan. She didn't bother to cover her nethers, and Harry had a good glimpse of female anatomy. He blushed and fought against the natural reaction. Trelawney either did not notice, or care. "When I was a teenager, I heard some of the Muggleborns talking about drugs, including your mum. Evidently your aunt dropped acid when she was in her teens. Anyway, I went and tried anything I could get my hands on. Anything to make the visions go away. Know what it did?"

"What?"

"It made me sleepy," Trelawney said, almost moaning at the thought. "All those wonderful, vision-free trips I could have taken, and the drugs did nothing to me. Some of our magic is instinctual, Harry. Like when you fall a great distance and bounce instead of breaking. I honestly don't know anything about how the drugs work, only that they don't work on us. That's why there is no law in the Ministry to control them. It's also why families like the Malfoys can grow and sell poppy plants and marijuana and make a fortune off the Muggles by selling drugs to them."

She leaned her head back against the divan and with an already red-stained kerchief wiped the blood from her nose. "I saw you and Granger dancing in formal robes."

"So you think I should ask her?"

"You will ask her," Trelawney said.

"Do you think asking her is…well, do you think I'm the reason for that Death Eater going after her?"

"If I say yes, will you ask her anyway?"

Harry opened his mouth to say no immediately, but the words caught in his throat. He desperately threw his mind out for other people he could ask. He thought of Justine, but she was also in the vision. "I wonder if I could ask Jessica Rivers," he wondered aloud.

"Half blood—it would be worse for her than for Hermione," Trelawney said. "They'd kill her and her Mum."

"Susan Bones?"

"Danger of bonding, but also it would link her aunt to you, and we're not ready politically for that."

"We?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

"I suppose Parvati or Lavender."

"They would look very pretty on your arm, to be sure," Trelawney drawled.

Harry bowed his head. "Professor," he finally said, "I heard that…mum knew she was going to die. I've seen Hermione and Justine die—if Mum couldn't stop it, how can we save Hermione and Justine?"

The half-naked woman blinked up at him with her lips drawn in a frown. "Harry, your mum could have saved herself. She could have played the game and maybe won some space, but that's not what she wanted. She made a choice; it was a hard choice for both of you. For her, the loss of her life and a man she did genuinely like; but more importantly, for you because you would not have her in your life. What you saw with Hermione and Justine, though—you saw a consequence of certain choices, but have you seen the consequences of saving them?"

"I don't…."

"Your mum saw what would happen if she lived, Harry. She saw the life you would have as one of several kids born from several wives, and more important she saw what would happen to our world if she did what she was supposed to do. She saw beyond her death, and made her choices based on that. But you saw probability based on current events—have you seen what happens if you change those events?"

"No, I don't know how to see that well…"

"No, I suppose not, that's why you're in my class," she whispered. "Those girls are going to fight for their lives whether you ask them or not. You saw them so closely because they are going to be a part of your life. Taking the action to put them in danger is almost unavoidable; but not taking action to save them…that will be the true crime."

"You've seen it?"

"I've seen too much," she said, and the sheer hopelessness in her voice made Harry's breath catch.

"What do I do?"

"Granger is already in danger, Harry. She's a revolutionary. She doesn't like the system any more than you do, and she's already trying to change things. She thinks she is being smart about it, but she doesn't realize how deep the conspiracy goes. Asking her will simply put you next to a woman you know you're going to bond with regardless."

Harry remembered his vision of her; of the way she looked at him as she thrust her bare chest up toward him.

"Have you…have you seen me?"

Her smile was sad. "Harry, I've been watching you since before you were born. Why do you think I forced your schedule change? We had to meet. This year is going to be the start. Remember your friends, but also remember that not everything is as you think."

He nodded, accepting the warning as it was intended. Then, to his own surprise, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Their magic meshed for a brief moment before their mutual Occlumency barriers forced it apart. "Thank you, Professor."

"Harry, when I'm half-naked, drunk and alone, you can call my Sybil."

Smiling wryly, Harry said, "I'll remember that. Thank you, Sybil. Now come on, let's get you to bed."

It was an interesting experience to help a half-naked, thoroughly drunk older woman to bed. He could not help but touch her, and she did not seem to care in the slightest. And yet, after the first flush of embarrassment, he did not feel any sexual attraction to her at all. Rather, he felt slightly protective of her, like a brother or father.

Or perhaps a son… He finally helped her back to her chambers and into bed. Her room was a small chamber with an enchanted wardrobe, a vanity, her bed, a night table and the nearby water closet and bath. The walls were plastered, and the plaster was covered in what looked like pencil drawings. After he had her tucked into bed and snoring, he went and started looking at the drawings.

His eyes narrowed as he saw a stunningly accurate drawing of him and Hermione dancing in a vast hall, the details of which were lost in the background. Another portrait was of a heartbreakingly familiar woman holding a wand to her own chest as she stood between a crib and a bloodied, battle-torn wizard with handsome features warped by rage and darkness.

Another was of Headmaster Dumbledore, his face caught in an expression of serene calm, falling through the air while his robes whipped around him. Harry moved down the wall until he found a portrait of a girl he had never seen up close before, and yet he felt a profound, almost shocking sense of recognition.

The portrait was of a fully nude body; she stood in what looked like Harry's bedroom, with one hand shyly covering her nethers and another across her chest, shielding the small swells of her breasts. Her head was angled down, and the delicate shading of the pencil lead made her look as if she were flushing furiously, and yet even so her eyes were facing forward. Moreover, it was a life-sized drawing with exquisite detail, down to freckles, and a mole under her left breast where her fingers did not cover it. Her eyes pierced his and he felt such a profound sense of familiarity it seemed as if she were breathing and about to reach out to him. On her head was a silver circlet with a crown of the three-phased moon.

"She's going to change the world," a voice said from the bed.

Harry spun around, embarrassed to be caught looking at what had to be his teacher's private visions. "What?"

"She is going to change the world," Trelawney said absently. She wasn't even looking at Harry; somehow she just knew.

"How?"

"By changing you," Trelawney said. "But not yet. She's not old enough, not yet. Soon, though. Very, very soon."

"What do you mean?"

He was answered with a snore; Trelawney was deeply, soundly asleep. With a last look at the beautiful portrait, Harry left his Divination teacher and the tower altogether. He removed his father's map, which he never left the tower without, and saw that Luna was safely in Ravenclaw Tower for a change. Hermione, however, was in the library with Justine Finch-Fletchley.

When he reached his fellow fourth-years, they were just finishing up with their work. Justine looked up at him and smiled wanly before nudging Hermione. The other girl also smiled, her cheeks turning pink. Like Justine, it was a strained smile. "Hello, Harry," Hermione said. "It's a little late to be coming into the library, isn't it? I think it's going to close in a few minutes."

"Er, well, I actually came to find you."

Hermione's cheeks fairly glowed. "How did you know I was in the library?"

"Because you weren't in the Common Room?"

Justine chuckled. "He's got you there, Hermione. Well, I think this is a conversation that doesn't need a third. I'll see you later." She brushed past Harry's shoulder as she walked away, swaying her hips as she left.

"So, Harry," Hermione began, "what did you want to talk about?"

"Can we sit?"

She nodded and the two say at a table, while around them the few students in the library began putting away their own books. "Er, well, I guess I wanted to ask you how you're doing in Wizarding Life."

"Oh, fairly well, I believe," Hermione said. "I'm looking forward to the mandatory government class in sixth year. I've already read about the different covens of the Sabbat, and the ICW is rather fascinating when you consider it."

"Well, that's good, I suppose," Harry said. He felt like he did that morning before his very first game. "Hermione, I…well, you see…it's just that… there's a ball, you see, and I…"

"Yes," she said quickly, so fast he didn't even hear her.

"…I needed to ask…"

"Yes, Harry. I'd be honoured to go with you. If that's what you're asking, I mean."

Harry blinked and stared a moment. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

Harry smiled in relief, but then remembered his conversation earlier with Trelawney. "Wait, before you get too excited, there's something you should know."

She leaned forward, blushing prettily. "What, Harry?"

He looked around the library, and then rubbed the back of his neck. "I…you know what, this isn't the best place to talk. Can you come with me?"

"Sure." She agreed very fast, but Harry was too distracted to notice. The two left the library and started walking not toward the tower, but toward the Astronomy tower. Since the Astronomy Professor used charms to simulate the night sky during class, they had yet to actually have to use the tower, but every student knew where it was.

Hermione felt her cheeks burning as she followed Harry up the steps. "Er, Harry, do you know where you're going?"

"Yeah."

They arrived up on the tower and Harry couldn't help but sigh in relief to find it empty of newly bonded couples. "Er, Fred and Georgina told me that the school purposely doesn't have any listening or monitoring charms up here."

Hermione's nervous smile faltered. "You mean…there are charms elsewhere?"

"Yeah, I think so. But they don't want to keep kids from bonding, not really."

"Is that…is that why you asked me up here, Harry?"

"Wait, what?" Harry blinked and saw her blushing furiously. "No! No, I just needed to talk to you without anyone listening. Look, I didn't know who I was going to ask, but Angelina made a point I hadn't even thought of. This ball, it's going to be really political. I'm going to need help—someone who knows what I should say or not say, or at least who is who. But the thing is, when I talked to Sybil…"

"Oh, is it Sybil now?" Hermione asked archly. "Get on a first name basis while taking a drag on your marijuana cigarettes?"

"Hermione, I think you coming with me might be a part of what leads to you…well, the vision I had."

The judgmental frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know everything, but Sybil said you were a revolutionary, but that you didn't know… how bad things really were. Point is you're a Muggleborn. If you go with me, all those ICW Dames won't be happy. Just coming might be why they come after you."

Hermione hugged her arms around her chest and stared intently at him. He could almost see her mind working over it. "So, to summarize," she said, "you asked me not because you liked me, but because you want someone to actually study the ICW to keep you from making a fool of yourself and thought of me, even though you've had a vision that means my going could endanger my life and the life of my friend. Does that sound right?"

It sounded so crass and callow when she said it, but he realized with dawning horror that she was right. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I just…I'm sorry, Hermione."

"Sorry," she snorted. "Yes, you are sorry. And selfish, too. You being famous and looking smart is more important than my life, or Justine's life. Good to know just how much I'm worth, I suppose!"

"Hermione!"

"Just go to hell, Harry."

He couldn't help it—he grabbed her hands pulled her back around. "Hermione," he said quietly, "I can't let you be hurt. The vision was a warning, because I saw other visions beyond it. I will save you, Hermione, because the alternative is too terrible to see."

Her eyes widened a moment before she placed her hand over his. "What did you see?"

"I…I can't tell you everything, Hermione. Only that…if you come with me, you won't be fighting alone. I promise you that."

She took a deep breath before stepping back away from his touch. "Fine," she said. "I'll see you Friday."

~~Firebird~~

~~Firebird~~

Friday came with the inexorable march of time, and Harry walked toward the appointed chamber feeling rather depressed. Hermione hadn't spoken to him since he asked her to the Ball, and he wasn't entirely sure she was going to show up to the chamber at all.

It was a surprisingly large crowd given both the starting and reserve teams had their partners with them. He looked through the faces until he saw Hermione Granger standing off to one side, hugging herself and scowling a little at all of the older couples around her. He walked toward her, ignoring some of the whispers coming from the others. "You came," he said. "I wasn't sure if you would."

"I said I would," she told him sharply. "I have already pulled some information about the current ICW Elders and the prominent Coven Majeure Dames that are behind them."

Harry smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks, Hermione. I'm sorry if…well, thanks."

"May I have your attention, please," Professor McGonagall said before Harry had a chance to bury himself any deeper. "Professor Dumbledore will make a few statements regarding the nature of the ball and the school's expectations, after which we will have a course on proper ball dancing, followed by dining etiquette. Professor Dumbledore?"

The ancient wizard smiled at McGonagall before turning his attention onto the twenty eight students in front of him. "It is quite the honour to be invited to Geneva," he began, "but it is also a huge responsibility. Geneva is not a particularly forgiving place for young witches and wizards, which is why the majority of the members of the ICW have a century or more of life. However, the invitation was sent, and was accepted, so there you have it."

He conjured a blackboard with a negligent flip of his wand. Instantly, a diagram appeared. "For those of you who have not reached the ICW in your Wizarding Studies class or those long past it, let me refresh your memory. The organization as it exists today was first founded in 1692, when the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was formally enacted. Its purpose originally was to ensure uniform enforcement of the statute among the member nations. Since then, as is the case with all bureaucracies, its size, scope and responsibilities have increased exponentially. Now it is a unified government entity that enforces peace among the different member Ministries, and intercedes in those non-signatory nations where the Secrecy Statutes may be violated.

"It is important to know that not all magical communities are members of the ICW. In point of fact, the Japanese magical community has resisted joining the ICW for generations, as have a few other notable exceptions. While they are the most obvious example, there are many other communities around the world who have chosen not to join the ICW.

"As to its actual structure, each member nation appoints a representative Elder who attends the ICW Parliament, and likewise that Elder's coven's Dame attends the Coven Majeure. Any and all policies must pass through both the Parliament and Coven Majeure to become effective, although, as you might imagine, the Coven Majeure does have the right to override the Parliament if they have sufficient votes. Additionally, the ICW has international courts chaired by two witches and a wizard to oversee international disputes."

The ancient wizard paused a moment to collect his thoughts. "The United Kingdom is rather unique in that it is represented by an Elder wizard who is not currently bonded. Alas, I survived all four of my wives, but because of the fact I did bond four times, I am the Elder of my own coven. Professor McGonagall's family joined my coven many decades ago, when my dear wives were still living, and acts as my proxy Dame for the British covens. However, for the Coven Majeure England is actually represented by the Senior Undersecretary of Magic, Dame Dolores Umbridge. For those of you who are not aware, Dame Umbridge is also the Dame of the Umbridge Coven, of which Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, is the appointed Elder. Madame Umbridge's own husband came to an unfortunate end during the war against Voldemort. Her coven's official alignment is Dark Pureblood. Being a Light wizard, myself, England does not always present a unified front at the ICW."

He looked over at Hermione in particular. "The ICW is an intensely conservative organization clinging to strongly held beliefs that may be at odds with some of your more modern sensibilities. It is likely that some of you may hear things that are offensive to you. It is imperative that you say nothing, nor do anything, to compromise either this school or yourselves. You will all be expected to be on your very best behaviour, to smile and comport yourself with dignity and quiet reserve. You are to speak only when spoken to, and not to partake of any of the adult beverages that may be available to you. If any of you are found to have disobeyed these simple rules, you and your partner will be returned to the Castle via Portkey and will receive a significant punishment." His heavy brows lifted. "It is an honour to be invited to the ICW, but rest assured it is also a test, with some risk both to yourselves and this school. I beg of you to be on your best behaviour. Now, with that said, enjoy your lessons."

"Blimey, now I'm not sure I want to go now," Fred muttered.

"And I'm not sure I want you to go either, Mr Weasley," Professor McGonagall said sternly. "So just in case the headmaster was not clear enough, let me explain it to you in simpler terms. Anyone who embarrasses Hogwarts will return to this school only long enough to collect your belongings before you are expelled. Are we clear?"

Even Hermione was wide-eyed when she nodded.

"Excellent. Now, line up, wizards on the left, witches on the right. Quickly, now, the competitors will be expected to participate in at least the first two dances. The first will be a Quadrille, and the second a Waltz. We will be learning first the Quadrille, which is a lively dance with four partners. While this originated as a Muggle dance some centuries past, it has been adopted by magical culture and has since flourished. Each pair assumes an element, and so the couple in the upper right hand shall be Fire, the lower right shall be Earth, the lower left shall be Water, and the upper left shall be Air. Everyone, take your partner's hand, please…"

The dancing at first was very slow going, especially because of all the footwork involved, but Hermione at least didn't complain too badly when Harry stepped on her toes, and though he kept his Occlumency barriers up, he would be lying if he said holding her hands for those portions of the dance was unpleasant.

By the end of the hour, the group was able to simulate a passable Quadrille, with each couple dancing in the centre as the other couples clapped time to the music. Harry was absolutely positive Hermione even smiled once or twice.

The second dance was actually much easier to learn, but also much more draining for Harry, as he was intensely aware of Hermione's proximity when he placed a hand on her waist to spin her in the sliding steps of the dance. So close, he could feel her magic radiating from her torso, and he was positive she could feel his as well, judging by the pink in her cheeks. Still, she very conscientiously avoided looking him in the eye, perhaps fearing her own feelings as the two danced with the others.

Finally, the practise session ended when McGonagall clapped her hands. "Very good, all of you," she said approvingly. "We will have one more practise session next week before the term ends. Now, the tailors are in the next room for the wizards to be measured. Girls, you will remain in this room. Well, on your way!"

The boys, including Harry, walked next door to the tailor, who was also a woman. "Robes off, boys," the older witch said in a professional tone. "Down to your skivvies. We're going to make you look sharp, so everything has to be perfect."

Harry blushed scarlet, but Cedric just shrugged and started pulling off his robes.

Muttering about how unfair the wizarding world was, Harry started to follow suit, as did all the others. An hour later, after all the boys were measured and dressed, they left the chamber just as the girls did. The young witches were talking animatedly about their dresses, all save Hermione who was writing in a small Muggle-style notebook. As a fourth year, she and Harry were the two youngest people from Hogwarts attending the dance, and possibly the youngest among all the teams as well.

He fell into step beside her, trailing behind the others. Without looking up from her notes, she said, "I'm staying in the castle for the holiday. We should practise the dances more. The library has a series of phonographs we can use for music."

"Okay," Harry said easily.

"And we also need to study the political landscape more," Hermione said. "After Professor Dumbledore's speech, I feel completely unprepared for this. He would not have given us such a stern warning without reason."

"Okay."

She finally stopped and looked up at him, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What?"

"Do you remember when I did your palm reading?"

"Well, yes."

"I saw you fighting, Hermione. Not just arguing, but fighting for your life, and for others. Syb…I mean, Professor Trelawney had a vision that I was going to ask you to the ball, and she said…she said this might be the start of that fight. I don't want you to get hurt, Hermione. You don't have to come."

Her eyes narrowed and her lips firmed to a white line. "Harry, did you know that Dolores Umbridge has publicly called Muggleborn 'magic-stealing cretins' and referred to half-bloods as 'mongrels' who should be put down for their own good? She was talking about people like me, Justine, or our friend Jessica Rivers. People like your mum, Harry. I knew from my first semester in Professor Hooch's class that I was either going to fight, or succumb. And frankly, my father raised me to never back down from a fight. If you can't handle that, then you need to step aside."

"I wish I could," Harry said sadly. "Just…well, be careful, anyway."

Her hard expression softened a little. "I'm always careful, Harry. I'll let you know about a study schedule. You'll need to know faces and names too."

"Right. Thank you."

"Good night," she said, nodding before she walked away. Harry watched her go and wondered if he was dragging her into trouble, or if she was dragging him.

sp

sp

Author's Note: Very special thanks as always to Teufel1987, JR and Miles for beta reading.