The following days grew colder and darker, but Harry and Pansy felt none of it. They danced, ate and eventually managed to actually do some of their piles of homework together in the library – something that Hermione actually congratulated him on.

On the twenty-second of December, with just three days to the Yule Ball, they were secluded in a private corner of the library working on their Potions homework.

"No, no, the banana itself isn't what's needed; the thing that actually has the effect in the potion are those stringy bits that run on the surface." Harry said, pointing at Pansy's last sentence with his quill.

"What, where does it say that?" She replied, pulling over her notes on Aging potions.

"It's not in our notes, but I heard Snape mention something about strings and only just put it together in my head. It's here in Alchemical Approaches to the Abrogation of Aging – see?" He said, pointing from her to the book on his left.

She leaned over him to read the passage, her lips moving silently. "Well, I didn't see that coming. 'Pholem bundles' – I would never have thought to look into that."

"I'm glad I did now." Harry said.

"Check you out, potioneer." She said, squeezing his cheeks and kissing his puckered lips. "Why don't you ever come out with stuff like this in class?"

Harry wanted to make a cutting, long-suffering comment about his and Snape's mutual animosity. Instead, he just shrugged. "I don't know, I think it's the room, I've never liked it."

"Well, we should start doing it in the bloody greenhouses if this is what you're like outside the dungeons." She replied, scoffing at his resultant raised eyebrow.

An hour later, Harry was syphoning excess ink from his parchment when Ron appeared with Luna Lovegood in tow.

"Alright lovebirds?" Ron called, risking Madam Pince's displeasure.

"Afternoon mate." Harry said, putting his quill down. "What's up?"

"Hi Ron," said Pansy, flashing him a brilliant smile. She had been putting in a lot of effort with his friends and Ron was probably the one she was closest to winning over.

"Hiya." Ron said, a little sheepishly.

Luna cleared her throat.

Ron started, "Oh, yeah, sorry. Pansy Parkinson; Luna Lovegood, Luna Lovegood; Pansy Parkinson."

"Hi Luna," Pansy said, "I think we met a few years ago?"

Luna beamed. "Oh hi, Pansy. Yes we did – it was at Marius Prewett's wedding, twentieth of July nineteen-ninety: you were wearing a long purple dress, and your hair was really long. Your dad was hilarious – that trick set of flaming gobstones was amazing!"

Pansy's eyebrows had risen steadily throughout Luna's recitation of events. "Wow, I… how do you remember that?"

Luna shrugged, playing with her long plait. "Oh, easy – I just don't forget things."

There was a moment of surprised silence as everyone looked around.

Harry, finding a way to break the tension, stared at Ron. "Everything okay?"

Ron started. "Right yeah," he fished around in his jeans pocket and withdrew a tiny roll of parchment, "Pig came back at last."

Harry took the little scroll with a small cheer of excitement. "Cheers, about time!" He stood, stretching his legs and opened it, revealing Sirius' familiar handwriting.

As he did so, Ron drew in a sharp breath, his eyes darting to Pansy.

Dear Harry,

Congratulations on getting past the Horntail. Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! I was going to suggest a Conjunctivitis Curse, as a dragon's eyes are its weakest point but your way was better, I'm impressed.

Don't get complacent, though, Harry. You've only done one task; whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty more opportunity if they're trying to hurt you. Keep your eyes open — particularly when the person we discussed is around — and concentrate on keeping yourself out of trouble.

Keep in touch, I still want to hear about anything unusual.

Sirius.

Harry looked up at Ron and handed him the slip of paper.

"What is it, good news?" Pansy said.

Harry paused, his heart sinking. He had grown so used to Pansy being around, he had accidentally let his guard down.

"Yeah, kind of – just a friend we don't hear from very often." He said, but he could hear the tension in his voice.

"Are you okay Harry? You sound really tense all of a sudden." Luna said, staring at him.

Harry, not sure what to do, chose a middle-road. "Umm… it's a bit complicated," he pointed to the scroll, "he's actually on a bit of a quest, trying to clear his name for a crime he didn't commit."

Pansy's eyes rose, "Scandalous! Anyone I know?"

"I doubt it," Ron said, "no one major really."

"But he is really important to us." Harry finished.

She looked from Harry to Ron and back again, her eyes scrutinising them hard. "Alright," she said, "keep your secrets."

She stood and stretched, yawning.

"I'm hungry." Luna said, looking bored.

"Sounds like a plan to me." Pansy said, walking over and slipping her arm through Luna's. "Let's get some food, Luna – leave these boys to talk about their boy things."

Luna, looking stunned, nodded. "Bye, Ron" she said as she was towed away by Pansy.

"See you later, boys." Pansy called back as they walked down the aisle.

Harry watched her leave, laughing.

"God, what a woman." He said when the pair were out of earshot.

"Which one?"

"Both, I guess, I see what Ginny meant – Luna is a little odd."

"Oh yeah, she's as nutty as squirrel shit, but she's really cool in a weird kind of way."

Harry sat back down in his chair and stood again immediately. "I can't believe he's finally replied. Wish he was actually saying something, you know?"

Ron nodded, looking through the note again. Then he lifted the scroll and sniffed it.

"What're you doing?" Harry asked.

Ron scratched lightly at the paper and help his finger out, showing a few grains of sand clinging to it. "He's by the sea, I reckon. Have a sniff."

Harry sniffed the parchment – Ron was right, it smelled salty and there were more grains of sand embedded in the ink.

Ron laughed, "Well I hope he's enjoying himself, wherever he is."

"Yeah absolutely," Harry replied, smiling, "you know, I could eat."

"Me too, but you can't leave all those books. What the bloody hell are you working on?"

"Potions. Just finished the thing on Aging potions – want to copy?"

Ron was frowning at him. "You've done it already? I don't think even Hermione has finished yet."

Harry shrugged. "We wanted to get away, so we came here, and we were both finding it a pain in the arse, so we just cracked on. I think we've got it cracked now."

Ron smiled. "This girl's really turned your head, hasn't she?"

Harry nodded, feeling heat rush to his cheeks. "Yeah, she's amazing. You'll see when we spend more time all together."

"Just a matter of getting Hermione to cool down on her, I suppose. She was really pissed off by the chipmunk remark."

Harry raised his eyebrows in what he hoped was a knowing way. "Understandable, really."

"Reckon she might apologise?" Ron asked, sounding like he thought that as likely as getting the skrewts to cooperate with anything.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe, who knows?"

Ron sighed, "Go on then, let me have a read of that essay."

Harry received another letter after lunch, requesting he and Pansy attend another fitting for the dress. When there, she allowed herself to be blindfolded and Harry took her wand so she couldn't cast Epignosi on herself.

At that point, the dress looked almost nothing like the images he had chosen, nor the sketches Patel had done but even so, Pansy looked amazing.

The atmosphere in the castle was rapidly growing tense and excited. Groups of girls could be seen gossiping around every corner, several explosive breakups – scattered around the whole castle – and more than one scandalous announcement of previously unimagined couples.

On Christmas Eve, with excitement at fever-pitch, lunch was cancelled, with students and teachers alike being provided with paper bags of sandwiches, fruit and a snack. Dinner too, was cancelled, with students being bought food in their common rooms, year-by-year.

The gossip about what was actually being done in the hall ahead of Christmas Day was rampant.

After the remains of the seventh-years dinner was cleared away, the twins and Lee Jordan and a crew of more than a dozen senior Gryffindors threw a party. Somehow producing not only five bottles of firewhisky, but two cases of butterbeer and a couple of sixth-year girls revealed a whole barrel of beer – somehow smuggled in hidden inside of a hat box enchanted to be several times larger on the inside than out. Of the six current Gryffindor prefects, only three were present and two of them had been partly responsible for the butterbeer.

It was the first time in their three and a half years that Harry, Ron and Hermione saw a party start to really get out of hand. By nine o'clock, more than a dozen had drank so much they were sick. By half-past, the common room was so full of students from all Houses that there was almost no space to walk around.

A group of Slytherins appeared with two casks of mead and a massive box of Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks which were immediately absorbed into the strange, roiling mass of the party. Ten minutes later, things started to take a turn, as a dozen Hufflepuffs turned up with a full pound of prime suncloud-grown cannabis and twenty pipes.

Hermione excused herself at ten o'clock, wanting to get a good night's sleep for the following day. Ron and Harry said they'd be along soon, but all knew it wasn't true.

At eleven o'clock, it was getting too much for many and they retreated to bed, leaving a hard core of raving revellers. Lee Jordan had to be carried out to bed after winning a drinking game against Scarlett Clarkson from Slytherin. Just like all the others who had passed out or couldn't leave under their own steam, people cast Mobilicorpus on Scarlett, gently lowering her out of the window and down to the ground.

At eleven-thirty, Ron and Harry carried Seamus to bed, with him whining all the way that he missed Dean because he loved him so much.

Dropping Seamus on his bed, Ron wavered and sat on his. "I think I'm done." He said, rubbing his eyes.

"Don't be shit, Neville still isn't back yet." Harry said, swaying slightly as he indicated Neville's unoccupied four-poster. Looking back at Ron, he realised he was far more affected by the bottle of mead he and Ron had shared than he had expected.

"He better not be shagging my sister." Ron grumbled, starting to sag.

Harry could see that Ron was lost. "Don't be daft," Harry said, "she's just a kid."

"Yeah right," said Ron, falling onto his pillow.

Harry picked Ron's feet up and put them up on his bed. "Night mate."

"Night. You can marry Ginny, if you want. I don't mind. I fucking love you, Harry." Ron mumbled, rolling over and pulling his blanket over him.

Harry chuckled as Ron started to snore loudly, then left the dorm, heading back down the spiral staircase.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the door banged open, kicked by Fred who was carrying Angelina in his arms, snogging aggressively.

Harry pressed himself against the wall as they hurried past, not noticing him.

That was the first time he started to reckon things might have started to go too far.

He stepped back into the common room to a scene of utter chaos. There was a thick cloud of pale blue smoke that smelled like sour rain hanging below the ceiling and the space was split roughly into thirds, consisting of a brawl, a rave and… whatever a group of people passed out stoned or drunk was called.

Walking down the steps, he saw Crabbe – all the way in the middle of a mosh pit – get caught by a right-hook from a noticeably smaller Hufflepuff boy, and crumple to the ground unconscious. A cheer went up at this and Harry couldn't hold back a laugh.

A stranger – a senior Ravenclaw he thought – caught him in her arms, shouting "Dragonslayer Potter!" drunkenly before trying to kiss him.

He held his head back, trying to avoid her, but she was much taller and apparently stronger than him. When her lips were less than an inch from his, he found himself falling over, momentarily blinded by a flash of silvery light.

Pansy was standing over him, "He's mine, get your own you bitch!" she shouted at the girl who was picking herself up from the floor a dozen feet away. The crowd, momentarily parted due to the impact, started to melt back.

Harry grinned. "Thanks, where have you been all my life?"

She smiled and gave him a hand up. "Living in a dungeon, mostly." She said, grinning back and hugging him.

The party absorbed them, propelling them away from the staggering, furious-looking Ravenclaw.

"This is chaos Harry," she said as they came to rest next to the fireplace which was burning blue, "people are going to get in massive trouble, you know?"

Harry laughed and hiccupped. "Ugh, 'scuse me."

"You're bloody drunk!" she cried, feigning disgust.

"I'm a little drunk." He replied, putting his hands on her hips and swaying to the music and leaning in to kiss her.

"Woah," she said, looking around – the extent of their relationship wasn't public yet, "take it easy."

"Yes ma'am," he said, clearing his throat, "you know, you're so sexy."

Pansy's uncomfortable smile became a scowl, "Right, game over Anebriaté." She said, tapping his cheek – a little harder than she needed to – with her wand.

He felt a wave of unbelievable nausea wash over him and just managed to keep from vomiting. Pressing the heels of his hands to his head, waves of discomfort, pain and then relief coursed through him and when he opened his eyes, he was sober.

"Better?" she asked, her mouth a thin line.

He coughed to hide a small belch. "Better thanks, sorry about that."

She shrugged, "I heard there was something going on up here and that it was getting out of hand so naturally I had to see – OW!"

She cried out as Millicent and Sophia smacked one cheek of her backside each at the same time.

Harry bent over laughing hard as Pansy grabbed her arse, wincing and cursing her friends.

"You bitches!" she cried, wincing.

"Happy Christmas Harry," Millicent said, grinning and revealing extremely white, neat teeth and raising a glass of what looked like Firewhisky, "we saw her sober you up and it didn't seem fair."

"Had to be done," Pansy said, "it's the Ball tomorrow."

"Yeah, and it's also-" Sophia said, noticing Fay Dunbar walking nearby, and pulling her in for a quick, intense kiss before releasing her, "– fucking hell, I've wanted to do that for three years!"

Everyone stared at her for a few seconds. Then Harry watched Fay recover herself, running her fingers through her thick blonde hair and smile before striding into the crowd.

"Well, you're full of surprises." Pansy said, still rubbing her stinging backside.

Sophia grinned, brushing her lower lip with her thumb and grinning in a self-satisfied kind of way. "Anyway, it's Christmas Day tomorrow; we all deserve a little fun, don't we?"

"How about you lot all go and have your fun and we can go and have ours?" Pansy said, taking Harry by the hand.

Millicent rolled her eyes and Sophia laughed, darting forward and hugging Harry long enough to whisper in his ear, "Thank you for making her so happy. Keep it up, stud."

Harry laughed, "I'll try."

"Try what?" Pansy asked, frowning.

"Nothing, see you in the dorm, sweet cheeks." Sophia said to Pansy as she took Millicent by the hand and led her deeper into the mass of the party.

Scowling, Pansy turned to Harry, "Let's get out of here?"

He smiled, "What did you have in mind."

"I'd love to dance, but I'd settle for somewhere private we can… you know…" she said, running her fingernails gently down the inside of his forearm and pursing her lips.

Without replying, Harry led her toward the portrait and offered a hand to help her out.

They did dance, but only for about ten minutes. They missed Christmas Eve becoming Christmas Day locked together and kissing as if their lives depended on it.

McGonagall, Snape and Sprout broke up the party around two am, by which time Harry was in bed, dreaming sweet dreams of Pansy and how her hips had felt beneath his hands.