Harry spent the rest of the morning with Pansy walking in the grounds, retreating to the nearest available fireside when they grew too cold or their socks too wet. Beside that, neither of them had the slightest desire to see or be seen by anyone else in the world.
They were coaxed out into the grounds for an inter-house snowball fight – no wands allowed. But cried-off after things started to get heated between a group of squabbling Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, egged-on all the way by jeering Slytherins and a couple of giggling Beauxbatons.
Fred and Angelina surfaced a little before midday, holding hands and looking radiant. They joined Harry and Pansy in a walk down to the lake where they found Ron and Luna in the boathouse, sat in an ice-locked rowboat, a bottle of flickering magenta flames between them as they chatted.
Eventually, the six of them returned to the castle where they found Neville reading a passage from his mother's notebook to Ginny who was wrapped in a fur borrowed from one of the Durmstrang students, her hair in a towel, soaked to the skin after the snowball fight.
Lunch arrived with unhurried grace at one pm. The majority of those incapacitated by the previous night's revels arrived and enjoyed the largest, most luxurious meal of their lives, followed by half an hour of excited – but bloated – chatter and gossip.
The cherry on top of the whole meal for Harry was seeing Crabbe, his face still a splotchy purple and his left eye bloodshot from the tremendous punch he'd taken from the young Hufflepuff. He ate slowly, appearing to not enjoy the meal much.
Most of those in attendance ate with a little more restraint than normal for Christmas dinner, accounting for the impending Ball.
Pansy rose from the Slytherin tables with Blaise and Daphne in-tow after the desserts vanished and made her way over to sit with Harry and the others. They weren't the first to start mingling, but they drew the greatest number of curious eyes.
At a quarter to three, McGonagall rose and caught Harry's eye; there was a silver pheasant perched on her shoulder, gleaming in that curious way Patronus spirits had.
Harry took Pansy's hand and whispered, "I think they're on their way."
She drew in a sharp, excited breath and ran over to the Slytherin table, collecting Sophia.
"Reckon she's excited?" Daphne asked, watching Pansy and Sophia dancing around as they came back.
"All the best, Potter." Blaise said to Harry. He stood and shook Neville's hand again, nodded to the others – except for Ginny, whose hand he kissed – before heading back to the Slytherin table.
Pansy arrived, bouncing on her toes. "Shall we go?" She said, though it wasn't much of a question.
Daphne and Sophia were grinning but looked a little apprehensive.
"Off to the Lion's Den then?" Sophia asked.
Five minutes later, Harry rapped on McGonagall's office door and she opened it immediately.
"I see Miss. Parkinson is also having a beneficial effect on your timekeeping skills, it seems. Merry Christmas, everyone." She said, looking over her glasses at them.
"Merry Christmas, Professor." They all said.
McGonagall stepped aside, leading them into her sitting room. Inside, much like before, Shearer and Patel were waiting, but this time there was also a tall, extremely skinny woman with them. In the middle of the room, a tall object covered in a white sheet and a full-length mirror.
The girls stood in a kind of rapt awe for several seconds until Sophia leaned in, "I hope you shaved your legs, Pans." She said.
Harry stepped forward, tense himself. "Madam Shearer, Merry Christmas." He said, offering her a hand.
"Merry Christmas, dear boy," she cooed, shaking before turning to Pansy and the other girls, "come here child, let me see you."
Patel shook Harry's hand as Pansy went to be inspected by Shearer.
"Is that it?" Daphne asked, gesturing to the sheet-covered object.
"It is. Mr. Potter, this…" he said, smiling and steering Harry to the tall woman, "is Prudence Matikina," they shook hands, "I asked Prudence, if she would be so kind as to assist Miss. Parkinson with her hair and makeup."
Matikina who was very tall, had incredibly dark skin and enormous, liquid black eyes that were emphasised by her gleamingly smooth scalp. She shook Harry's hand then Pansy's.
Pansy curtseyed, grinning in the kind of way that gave the impression that this wasn't real. "Thank you, Madam Matikina."
Matikina smiled a huge, very white smile. "You are welcome, Miss. Parkinson, Mr. Potter." She had a very languid, rich voice that somehow matched her slender, imposing frame perfectly. Her accent was a strong South African. "I suppose I could also attend to your friends here, too?"
Sophia and Daphne squealed with glee. "Yes please." They said together.
"Then I suggest you go and get dressed." Shearer said, cutting through their joy like a sharp knife. "Mr. Potter, did you bring your dress robes?"
Harry started, "No, I'm sorry."
"Then you'd best get them so we can make any finishing touches and sharpen you up. You will of course also need a shower and shave, but suit first. Also, I have what you asked for." Shearer was much sharper today, all business where she had been conciliatory and calming before.
Patel drew out a white box from a too-small bag at his side. "Made to your specification, sir." He said, smiling and passing it to Harry.
Harry smiled, sighing. "Thank you, you've made someone very happy."
"It was no problem, I don't get many opportunities to work on men's robes these days." Patel said, smiling and shaking Harry's hand again. "Now go, get your own robes. The Gownwright can get a little… sharp when up against a deadline."
Harry nodded and made a small bow.
"Enough bowing, Mr. Potter!" Shearer shouted at him, "go get your bloody dress robes!"
"Yes madam!" he cried, heading out of the door with Sophia and Daphne.
The last thing they heard was: "Clothes off, Miss Parkinson. I hope you didn't eat a large dinner."
McGonagall left her office with them and closed the door, rolling her eyes. "Bloody woman never changes – always gets a little mean when the pressure is on. Don't worry about her, you three, but you should go and do as she says at once."
Sophia and Daphne laughed, dipped feeble curtseys and ran, screaming with excitement down the hall.
"Thank you, Professor." Harry said, suddenly seized with the desire to hug McGonagall, but resisted for fear she didn't know how.
"You're welcome, Potter. Before you go, what is that in the box?"
"Oh, something I asked Patel to do special for me. Well, not for me. They're a new set of dress robes for someone who really needs them." Harry said, before turning and running down the corridor himself.
He didn't stop until he reached the common room and bolted up the stairs to the dorm. There, he found his dress robes in their bag and threw it over his shoulder.
He left the robe box on Ron's bed, with a hastily scrawled tag that read,
Merry Christmas, you grumpy git.
