In which honour is maintained in the face of cheating
When she felt the sharp tap on the back of her head, Septima Vector spun fast enough she hoped to catch sight of the spitball tube or the raised wand, or the … raised hand. She knew that gesture, She felt her hair and pulled out the small parchment aeroplane and smashed it onto the desk as if in anger or agitation.
It contained one word, "Dragons." She smiled, she'd already known that. But now Potter had a real-life alibi of how 'Harry Potter, The Champion' was supposed to have learned of them.
"Potter!" she said, "Detention, … this evening if possible."
"Yes, ma'am," He said meekly, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.
A smile that he managed to hide while his little red-headed friend had an unprovoked temper tantrum at him for his 'misdeed.'
Probably Miss Weasley was only venting how frustrated she was at how difficult third-year Arithmancy turned out to be, and couldn't quit with a clear conscience because she knew her friend was trying to take third- and fourth-year Arithmancy at the same time.
But he was a year older and had some muggle maths, so while he was struggling a bit, he wasn't hating it. She seemed to only have the basics, except also a pronounced skill with fractions, though she'd had a bad habit of estimating to eighths and keep working the problem, without seeming to notice that she'd given away any precision. Given the rumours, it probably came with lots of practice with baking.
When Septima finished the lecture and sat at her desk to watch them begin working through the problem set, she toyed with the aeroplane while she waited. She realised that it did not have one word, it had two. "Nesting Dragons," she shivered, Mother Dragons were an entirely different kettle of fish.
.
"I'm here professor," said Harry Potter.
She hit the door with a privacy charm, then held up the parchment aeroplane, "this related to one of the tasks?"
"Yes, probably First task."
"Nice," she said, "What do you know and how do you know it."
He recounted something rather convoluted, in that there was no way Hagrid was that devious. Then again … he did have a proclivity for giving away secrets, maybe … it wasn't absent-mindedness, maybe he got off on it, that wasn't the same thing as gossip, but perhaps it was a similar enough instinct, just … Hagrid never did anything the normal way.
"Alright," she said, "Who else have you told?"
Harry shrugged, "Ron and Hermione."
"No one else?"
"No one else," he said, "so far."
"You should tell the other champions," she said, "if you can do so without wasting inordinate amounts of your time or enduring insults, definitely not if it puts you in any danger."
"You're saying that if the other contestants insult me or attack me, I can cross them off the list of who we're willing to help?"
She shrugged, "There's helping them win, and there's helping them survive, and … they deserve …" she narrowed her eyes, "Check my ethical arithmancy," she said, "we have received a help to which we were supposedly not entitled."
"Yes," agreed Harry, "I'm assuming the 'we' in that statement is a pronoun for the 'contestant' we're collaborating to manufacture, one with my name and face and your skill?"
"Yes, that's what I meant. If we make sure that the others have the same help, then the advantage is balanced out. Yes, technically it is cheating, but the reason 'cheating is unfair' is if it unbalances the game. If the game is already unbalanced by unbalanced information, sharing around that information tilts the game the other direction, back towards balance."
"Agreed," said Harry, "I'm under the impression that the other two schools are already aware, and it's just a question of notifying Cedric Diggory."
"But you don't know if the other schools have informed their champions?"
"Not yet," said Harry.
She nodded, "Try anyway, if they don't already know, having your information sooner rather than later, may keep them alive. If they do already know, it merely positions us as the team trying to maintain fairness in the face of cheating."
"Yeah," said Harry.
"But again, you shouldn't need to put up with bullying, for trying to save their lives, so, if it comes to that, don't tell anyone who doesn't seem to deserve it."
"I understand," said Harry.
Septima relaxed, and sighed, "Sorry, I stated that more strongly than I had any right to, … I know it's your reputation, not mine, but it's still my honour as a champion, to even the playing field, and as a teacher to keep students safe. I … I hope I haven't offended you by … saying what I want as an order. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have given an order, I should have … stated it as strategy and asked if you were alright with it. I am asking if you are alright with it. … If you don't feel up to it, say so, and I'll just have to ask you for an extra few strands of hair."
"No, it's fine," said Harry, "I happen to agree. And don't mind being the messenger in this instance."
"Thank you," said Septima and glanced at her clock, an automated runic number with all the rune logic exposed, "So would you like me to pay for your cooperation with extra tutoring, or do you have more valuable uses for your time, and you'd rather I let you go immediately."
"Are the other champions taking arithmancy?" said Harry, "Would it be in character for you to write me a pass to take them assignments or something from you."
"Some are, but no that would not be in character," she said, "but …"
.
...-...
A few minutes later
Hermione looked up to see Harry approaching, What? Already? She glanced back down at the notes he'd left her from his Survey of Magical Law class, which Susan had promised to help them revise in exchange for help in defence and potions, (but only after they'd gone over them and highlighted what they didn't understand.) Hermione had thought she'd be able to get through more of them before he returned. She glanced at Susan and Hanna's progress, which didn't seem to be that much farther than her own. At the next table over Ron had merely gotten out his charms book and was leafing through it again, he hadn't yet gotten out his notes so … it was still even money whether he'd be reading about magic or playing chess tonight…
Then it all fell into place, "Harry, I thought you had a detention to get to?"
"I'm working on doing my detention assignment, actually, but …"
"What?"
"She wants me to visit the other champions to pass on a late announcement about the first task."
"Oh," said Hermione, "About last night?"
"Exactly, 'Safety, Honour, and an even playing field, behoves us,' don't you know."
"International cooperation?" suggested Susan.
"That too," said Harry.
"So then, what are you doing here?" said Hermione.
"I'd rather have one of you at my arm when I confront the Beauxbatons crowd, and/or a friendly wand and witness (or several) at my back when, and if, I try my luck on the Durmstrang ship."
"Certainly," said Hermione, and looked around at her precisely organised study area. "But we just got started, Why not Ron?"
"First of all, Fleur Delacour, second of all Victor Krum. I want to deliver the message and get out, not make small talk."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, "You're right, that would never do. He almost fell off the stands when the Bulgarian mascots flew by."
Ron grunted his annoyance but didn't try to contradict.
"He wasn't the only one," said Harry.
"I thought you were OK," said Hermione.
"I was fine, Nim was not."
"Oh, that's right," said Hermione, then realised that the hufflepuffs were goggling at him.
Hermione tried to deflect that with a shrug, "Nim is a crazy cat."
"I realise that," said Susan, "But veela?"
"She likes stalking birds from afar," said Harry, apparently getting Hermione's idea and playing along, "But generally assumes songbirds aren't big enough to be worth the effort it would take to catch. Those veela looked big enough to be worth her time. She changed her mind after she left the ground and figured out they are bigger than she is."
"That's all well and good," said Hanna, "I was wondering about what the 'Harry being fine' part meant."
Harry shrugged, "Fleur was very vocal that she thinks I'm merely too young to be tempted. I don't think that's it, though it might take me a week or two more to put into words how I know. Hermione's interpretation is that I have exceptional willpower, possibly to do with previous experience with self-denial or some such."
Internally Hermione winced.
"Yes, well," said Hermione, and waved at her precisely arranged study area, "I'd rather not tonight, can't you go in the morning?"
Harry shrugged, "My detention is theoretically for tonight, and I'd rather get it over with. More to the point: It's the sort of information which might change how they prepare, the longer before they are informed, the more unfair it is that I already know."
"I'll go with you," said Susan.
"Thanks," said Harry.
Hanna smirked and gave her a thumbs up.
"You can come too if you want," said Susan.
Hanna shrugged, then nodded and packed away her books.
"Hmm," said Ron.
"Alright, Ron, Are you in or out?" said Harry.
"Not this time," said Ron, "I have err some preparations of my own to make first."
"Alright," said Harry, "Ladies?"
A minute later they were gone. Ron put his books away and browsed the potions stacks for several minutes before leaving. Probably to find someone to play chess with. .
Three-quarters of an hour later Harry and Susan returned.
"How did it go?" said Hermione.
"Fleur wouldn't see us. I have a one-on-one seeker race with Krum on Saturday. Hanna agreed to tell Cedric for me."
"Unfortunate but to be expected, nice, and nice," said Hermione, "What's next?"
"Defence," said Susan.
"Sure," said Harry and got out his books.
...-...
First Task
Ron climbed the stands edged past Ginny and plopped down on Hermione's left, only to land on something softer and warmer than bleachers, and then to be lifted as someone scooted out from under him.
"Oh, uh … sorry Luna," said Ron, "I didn't see you there."
After a quick hiss that sounded like Harry's whisper, Luna said, "It's not a problem, Ron. But be quiet, we're trying to listen to our champion."
"Well, bottoms uup," said a female voice trying to imitate Draco's drawl. Ron looked at Hermione's wristwatch, but it wasn't a wristwatch, it was a leather strap with a tiny transfigured silver drum mounted to it.
"What's that?"
"Tracking charm on the professor who was confunded into entering into the tournament in Harry's name," said Hermione, "Harry permitted her to use his hair for polyjuice, but after last time we thought it prudent to know what she says to people while pretending to be Harry. Hence the tracking charm."
"Oh, her," said Ron.
A moment later the bracelet huffed and said in Harry's voice, "It's a good thing I wasn't planning on a physical confrontation. Polyjuice is always so awkward."
Ron snickered. Hermione huffed.
"Fair warning: I might be leaving early," said Harry from Ron's immediate left, "An alert went out to the members of the Ingredients Rendering Club, I'm … kind of an honorary member after hiring them to help with the basilisk."
"What, why?"
"I assume, at least one contestant gained prior knowledge that they're facing dragons, and decided the most straightforward strategy is to kill them. Given that we're talking about the Hogwarts rendering club, I assume it is one of the Hogwarts champions."
"Well, yeah," said Ron, "But dragons."
"What are you saying?" said Harry.
"I guess, I just hope Norberta isn't down there," explained Ron.
Harry sighed, "fair enough."
.
Cedric used a transfigured dog for bait for his Swedish Short-Snout, he was careful to make it fast enough not to be caught, and to reverse the transfiguration before the dragon ate it.
Miss Delacour put the welsh green dragon to sleep somehow, though she did not take sufficient precautions to avoid being burned by a sleeping dragon. The defence professor would not be impressed.
Mr. Krum went with the traditional approach, that is, the traditional magical approach, Harry wondered if he'd have fared better with the traditional muggle approach: a lance and an optional steed. But it wasn't his contest so he wasn't in the mood to second guess, and no one here except possibly Hermione and Dean would have really understood what he meant.
Professor Vector, polyjuiced as Harry, appeared in tattered and baggy clothes as if Harry couldn't afford to waste good clothes to dragon fire. It was an impressively observant if mildly insulting touch. Then again, on her salary, perhaps she couldn't afford to waste good clothes to dragon fire either.
Like the first three contestants, she cast a single spell, though its incantation was long and its wand motion was very foreign-looking. A faint silver smoke jumped from her wand, then turned into a net of heavy black rope and wrapped every which way around the dragon.
The dragon looked mildly annoyed and charged at her.
"Looks like an epic-sized game of silly string," said Dean.
Then the tracking charm caught up and they could hear the incantation: "Enredar de plata y cambio, gran enredan de sombra que se aferra, —"
"Conjurations like that won't work against a dragon," said Hermione, "The skin of a large dragon would absorb the magic too fast, undoing the transfiguration, or cancelling the conjuration. Also why Spanish?"
Vector stretched out her non-wand hand toward the dragon and made a crunching motion. As if on cue the large black ropes shrunk into tiny silver chains. And where the black net had been loose and baggy, the silver net was tight and growing tighter. The dragon stopped trying to charge and only concentrated on breaking free, and then the net shrank more and broke bones and skin, several limbs fell loose from where the silver mesh constricted through them. One of the pieces amounted to most of the creature's neck. Though its horns kept its head tangled up in the rest of the bundle.
The crowd let out its collective breath.
"— mata," commanded Harry's tiny voice from Hermione's wrist.
Hermione shuddered.
From Ron's other side, Harry muttered, "That looks like my cue. Where did I put my broom?"
"Right here," said Luna.
"I guess I'd better keep my cloak on after all," said Harry.
Shortly after her last score was revealed, the fake Harry put her fingers in her lips and whistled.
From around the stands, Hogwarts students on brooms descended and bagged and tagged dragon parts and flew them off toward the castle.
"I don't know which is more disturbing," said Hermione, "that she killed that mamma dragon like that, or that Harry seems alright with it."
"Or that they let dragons into a school competition to start with?" said Luna.
"Will Harry teach me that spell?" called Seamus from several seats away.
"Not for several years, probably," Hermione called back.
For several minutes there was nothing but bewildered speculation and backseat-refereeing from the crowd. From Hermione's bracelet, there was only the normal muttering in the healer's tent when 'Harry' was inside.
Then the judges and several other ministry officials and dragon wranglers barged into the tent and began berating 'Harry.'
"The political fallout from this is going to be even worse than the wand weighing," muttered Hermione, and began taking notes.
"Do you realise how Slytherin it is to be taking notes, not about a class, but about someone else's reputation," said Ron.
"Yes, but keep quiet and let me listen," said Hermione.
Though 'Harry' didn't seem to be saying anything. Headmaster Dumbledore did wax eloquent about mercy to lesser animals. Headmaster Karkaroff and several officials complained bitterly about the cost of replacing a rented dragon. The dragon wranglers complained about the difficulty in safely hatching dragon eggs without the help of a mother, etc.
Ron said snide things about whether they should take lessons from Hagrid, since he seemed to do alright, despite living in a wooden house.
Finally, they seemed to wind down, and 'Harry' said, "Are you finished? I think each of you has taken a turn?"
A short silence.
"Alright," said Harry's voice, "I've listened to each of you, now it's my turn. You all have it backwards. It is not shame on me, not for killing, not for a dragon. It is shame on you, for putting me in a stadium with a dragon, it is shame on you for putting a dragon in a stadium full of children, it is shame on you for importing a dragon without checking the laws of the land, it is shame on you for not anticipating that killing one is worth more to me than the measly thousand galleon prize, it is shame on you for not realising that the reward for culling dragons is the only thing keeping the wild Hebrides Black Population under control, it is shame on you for not understanding that far from making me persona non-grata in the eyes of the law, it entitles me to the 'Thanks of the Crown'."
"Ah," said a dragon keeper, "But it was a horntail not a Hebridean black, horntails are more rare, protected under ICW law."
"So it was not native wildlife, but an intrusive species?" said Harry's voice, "That might be worth a knighthood."
"Not if I have anything to say about it," said the Headmaster.
"Oh," singsonged Harry's voice, "are you on speaking terms with the Queen? I didn't realise."
"Queen, Queen of what?" said Crouch.
"We're discussing Scotland," said Harry helpfully, "You know, the country where we are right now."
"The ministry has jurisdiction in magical matters."
"Maybe it does," said Harry's voice, "But I've got a certified license to take, for research purposes of course, and I've even contracted a team of experts and interns to help me with the dissection. You're lucky I didn't think to request access to the eggs as well."
"What's all this jargon mean?" said someone.
"It means he's outmanoeuvred us," said Dumbledore, "he gambled several hundred galleons to acquire paperwork guaranteeing him the right to harvest the carcass, should he manage to kill her, which he obviously did."
"It means," said Karkaroff, accompanied by the sound of ruffling parchment, "that he knew it was dragons at least three weeks ago."
Harry laughed, "Your operational security sucks arse."
"Language," muttered Hermione automatically, "And that means she knew before Hagrid warned Harry."
Ron laughed, "after all that angst he went through deciding whether to tell her and Fleur, and the Professor already knew."
"Yes, well," said Ginny.
"Shh," said Luna, "I'm transcribing for a Quibbler expose on ministry incompetence."
"You do that," muttered Hermione, "It's about damn time."
"Ugh … Language?" said Ron.
...-...
...
"Well Potter," drawled Rebekah Gamp, after the last piece of dragon bone was packaged and shrunk and owled away, "You've made remarkable progress since last year."
"Thanks," said Harry, "It helps to have tutors near my age and that speak several different … classes of English."
"Oh, is that how it is?" said Draco.
Harry and Draco shared a smirk.
"Oi, get a room you two."
"It's not like that," said Draco.
"Speaking of," said Harry, "About this Yule Ball?"
"No, I will not go with you, cousin Harry," said Draco, "I think you're old enough, you should consider inviting a girl?"
Harry stuck out his tongue.
"So attractive," sighed Draco.
Harry turned his back and made use of the sink.
"I meant," said Harry when he'd turned the water off again, "Are you going home for the Malfoy ball, or are you staying here?"
"Have to stay," said Draco, "Better networking opportunities here, and being a responsible citizen, and fostering international cooperation, and all that rot."
Harry nodded, "I mostly suspected that, but wanted to be sure before I invited anyone."
Draco waved his fingers in a mild shewing motion, "go, you have my blessing, invite someone."
Harry snorted. Then simpered, "Thank you, dear cousin, I think I will."
Draco shivered and turned his back. Then stepped awkwardly sideways to make a show of 'using the sink' also.
Harry snickered and headed upstairs.
.
"Hermione?" said Harry. As he paged through his homework schedule.
"Yes?"
"Are you staying for the Yule Ball?"
"Yes."
"Would you like to go with me?"
"You don't own me, Harry."
"I know," said Harry, "I own Nim and Hedwig, and I owe Luna protection, I don't owe you anything except friendship, which is what I meant to be offering you. If you don't find yourself in need or want of my company that evening, I was going to offer Luna next. I might need your help temporarily un-hiding her for the occasion."
"First of all," said Hermione, "Luna is going home for Yule."
"Ah," said Harry, "Fine, then I should give her her present before she goes."
Hermione gave a nod, "additionally, I already accepted Victor Krum's invitation."
Harry blinked, "Hmm, wow, that was fast, when?"
"Do you remember your seeker race with him, best of seven, to the death, exposition of the century, and all that hype, with no audience except Ron, me and his protegee?"
"I think you have to include the Creeveys, and Lee Jordan given that they were the ones inventing the hype."
Hermione shrugged, "They were too busy competing to announce, that they didn't really watch what either of you were up to. I didn't figure they earned the distinction of audience."
"Hmm," said Harry.
"Anyway, Miss Capozza said Krum was very impressed with your information about the first task. Then while I was waiting for you to shower after, Krum invited me to the Ball."
Harry blinked, "That was weeks ago," said Harry, "I only realised …"
Hermione raised an eyebrow.
Harry shrugged, "Vector and I should have been communicating more proactively."
"Yes."
Harry sighed.
"Anyway," said Hermione, "after I said 'yes,' Miss Capozza hinted that as Mr. Krum's ally, she wouldn't be averse to fulfilling the same role as a hidden channel of communication to whichever champion he sent her to, or maybe that was a hint for you to invite her."
"Or me to invite Hanna and tell Cedric to invite her?" said Harry, "It seems rather … a lot of trouble to go to, to open a subtle channel of communication, when owls are two knuts to rent."
"That's basically what I said," agreed Hermione, "Krum apologised very prettily in his awkward English for her being so, err … mercenary."
"Good."
"Also that she is young, yet, and does not understand Western European ideas of passion and dating and whatnot. (He apparently has the British grouped with the French and Spanish for some reason.) Also that he didn't mind her idea but assumed … that most of the contestants might already be in relationships. Not that he said it like that, but that's what he meant."
"Fair."
"Also Cedric is probably going with Cho."
"That might disappoint Hanna," said Harry.
"Maybe a little," said Hermione, "But Hanna is a pureblood and will someday court, whereas Cedric is a half-blood and dates."
Harry shrugged, "I keep forgetting that non-orphans have to deal with there being a difference."
Hermione shrugged.
"Are you going to invite Hanna or Susan?" suggested Hermione.
"Well Susan is next on the list," agreed Harry, "But, first I have to decide how I feel about … a bunch of things."
"Ask first, then, if she says yes, then you have all night to discuss whether you've enjoyed yourselves enough for it to mean anything."
"Hmm," said Harry, "I suppose."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You said he apologised?" said Harry, "Was he insulting enough that you'd like help getting out of it again, or was it only this Miss Capozza that made insulting assumptions."
"Just Miss Capozza, she'd figured out that I didn't care about Quidditch, and assumed I was guarding you in the shower for reasons of honour or body-guarding or who knows what all."
"Say 'buddy system,' and leave it at that?" suggested Harry, "What was Moody's phrase for the mage culture equivalent?"
"Perhaps, and that's Professor Moody," Hermione shrugged, "I didn't notice enough of an equivalence to call it a system." Then she shrugged again, "Anyway, Krum suggested trading tutoring in English and German might be of mutual interest if we ran out of other things, without needing to bring Quidditch into anything."
Harry shrugged, then blinked, "I always assumed I should learn French before German, but … I don't actually have any firm reasoning behind that idea."
"And now you're learning Latin charm work and ancient runes. I don't know which would be easiest or most productive for you to learn first."
A rune-covered parchment tacked to the wall started flashing and making a thrumming noise.
"Curfew," said Hermione.
"Nim," said Harry, "Are you hunting before bed?"
Nim yowled and stretched and made her way to the door.
.
When Harry got to his room he found Neville standing by his bed, frozen and not moving. His head tilted back to look at the ceiling in the far corner of the room, smiling absently.
"Neville?" said Harry, "You look entirely shocked, but … possibly in a good way."
"Earlier this evening I figured out Susan Bones wanted to go with me to the Ball so I invited her."
"Oh!" said Harry, "what did she say?"
"She said Yes," said Neville.
"Nice," said Harry.
"I … have a date," said Ron.
"I don't," said Seamus, "I haven't even decided whether I'm staying for the ball."
"Oh," said Harry.
.
"Tracy," said Harry as they left Potions, "may I speak with you?"
"About what?"
From the way hands went to hips or hovered near wands and wand pockets all around, Harry decided that she was refusing to separate from her slytherin clique, for the same reasons that a deer might avoid being cut from the herd. Especially in front of at least one gryffindor. One gryffindor with a reputation for killing basilisks, and that was generally backed up by another two of the most capable gryffindors in his year. Fine. Probably I should have asked after Arithmancy instead, when and where gryffindor / slytherin conflict seemed to be at its lowest ebb there.
"Two things, Would you like to go to the ball with me?"
"Hum," said Tracy, "What was the other?"
"If you did go with me, would it send messages that would make you uncomfortable at home?; because I was thinking that it would send the fewest possible messages in other directions. But I wouldn't want to put my comfort about avoiding my fame ahead of anyone else's comfort or discomfort. But mostly, I enjoyed dancing with you last Yule."
Tracy smiled, "Outside of rendering club, how common knowledge is it that you have business dealings with my father?"
"To my knowledge, not common knowledge at all, Not that the dragon is a secret."
"Of course," said Tracy, "Next question: have you had any lessons since the last time I danced with you?"
"Yes, a few," said Harry, "Though I've been given to understand that it's supposed to take me remedial lessons, all of the winter holidays, for the next decade for me to catch up with the skill appropriate for my station in life."
"Probably," said Tracy, "Luckily I'm a half-blood with money instead of a title."
"You perceive me agog with envy," said Harry.
Tracy smiled wider, "Yes, I would like to go with you, but according to the criteria you've mentioned, don't you think you should ask Rebekah first?"
Harry blinked, "She's not in my year and I didn't even think of it."
"You should ask her first, or she'll make me miserable later. She'll probably share you with me after the first two dances. Which will reinforce the signals you wish to send, and those which she wishes to send. She'll also be able to give you more lessons beforehand if you ask." The expression on Daphne's face told Harry that there were a lot of subtexts he wasn't privy to, and Daphne didn't approve of it all but did agree with Tracy's instructions.
"Interesting," said Harry, "I hear and obey."
Apparently, that reply did meet with Daphne's approval.
.
It took him a while to track down Miss Gamp.
"What do you want, shrimp?" said Miss Gamp.
"Would you like to go to the Ball with me?"
"Who put you up to this?"
"Tracy said something opaque to the effect that I wasn't allowed to invite her unless I gave you first dibs, something about business politics between her father and yours."
"And why did business politics come into it?"
"Because I'd mostly asked her because I've already met her father and, … don't want to give the impression of dating or romance, when I'm still concentrating on making friends, also on learning to dance. And she said several things that reminded me how much fun I had learning to dance last year. And she reminded me that we are allowed to go with students of different years than ourselves. And she said you were the better dancer, and better dance teacher, and several other things."
Rebekah smiled, "While, I don't mind going with you, in an entirely unromantic way. I'm concerned that you've presented the option in a way that makes me think the offer is intended in a romantic way. Care to explain?"
Harry blinked several times, "Because I hate my fame, and the way a particular crowd stalks me because of it, and another crowd tries to get 'seen' close enough to me for it to rub off on them. If I publicly show that anyone who thinks that way about me, has any chance with me, I'll be mobbed."
"Yes, I see," said Rebekah.
"I suppose you've got a similar issue actually," said Harry, "I never … put it in terms of fame, more in terms of reputation management. Though now that I think about it, it amounts to about the same thing."
"Certainly," said Rebekah.
"So, offering myself as a foil with which you can signal about your reputation, and I am asking for similar help from you, which yes is an offer of … a certain kind of protection, without that protection needing to be implied to be romantic."
Rebekah snorted, "Well said, also well analysed. Yes, I'll go to the Ball with you, in an entirely unromantic way."
"Thank you."
"And, thank you," said Rebekah, "Do you have any idea who Isaac could go with?"
"No idea," said Harry, "Hanna Abbot might still be available."
"Alright, … I'll let him know."
.
"Where were you?" said Ron.
"Huh?"
"McGonagall was giving dancing lessons, also I got her to transfigure my robes to a better colour, also a mildly less unfashionable cut."
"Good show," said Harry, then took two steps closer and muttered, "Rebekah Gamp dragged me to the slytherin dance lessons."
"Oh!" said Ron, "I didn't think of that possibility."
Harry shrugged, "Well, you missed a chance to laugh at me, I was massively outclassed. Which was sort of what I expected. But I did learn some things, and Rebekah and all their prefects seemed to be good teachers."
Ron shrugged, and nodded, "Good, that's what lessons are for."
"Right?" Harry agreed.
...-...
Ball
"Harry Pottare."
"Um, Oh, hi Fleur, What's up?"
"You are late."
"I thought we were lining up here."
"They are, but first, the Champions have agreed that we vote on who goes in first, not draw lots or go by order of points in first tasks, which are the traditions that they talk about."
"Oh," said Harry, "I … may I abstain?"
"Yes, you may," said Fleur, "But first you must come over here so we can ask you questions while the rest of us decide how to vote."
"Oh," said Harry, "Rebekah, shall we?"
"Do we have a choice?"
"You could also choose to sit here and stare at us debating from across the room, if you prefer."
"That does sound boring."
"Right?"
"Offer me your elbow like we practised."
"Oh, right, sorry."
When Harry looked up again Fleur wore a much more appraising expression.
"Is it true," said Fleur, "that you warned the others about the dragons, and tried to warn me also?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"How did you learn about them?"
"One night, one of the professors hinted that I should practice my sneaking techniques on him that evening, then talked to a professor from another school and they went down to look at the dragons. I tried to tell all of you after classes the next day."
"Ah," she said and frowned, "and no one warned you that you were about to learn things you oughtn't to know until after you knew?"
"Exactly," said Harry, "Though … from the fact that it wasn't my defence professor that was showing interest in improving my sneaking skills, I should have been more suspicious."
"Yes, well," She stared at him again, "And then you tried to tell us all," she nodded, "alright, you have my vote."
Then she turned and much more rapidly led the way toward a nearby meeting room.
"I take back everything I ever said about you being sufficiently Slytherin," muttered Rebekah, "that was almost hufflepuff."
"If it had been something more difficult but less dangerous than mother dragons," said Harry, "Then it would have been a different calculation entirely."
Fleur led them through a door, where they found Victor Krum, Hermione, Cedric, and Cho, were already waiting.
"So, you found him. Good," said Cho.
Suddenly Victor looked around, "Wait, it is 3 seekers and … Miss Delacour, do you also play Quidditch?"
"Cross country broom racing, actually," said Fleur, "Especially proficient with canyon following and in the relay duel dead-shot."
Krum's eyebrows rose, "A very different type of hand-aim skill, but sounds very proficient at it?"
Fleur nodded, "I'm not at the professional level at that, but I think I'll be at least national level on the duelling circuit, now that I'm old enough."
"Impressive," said Cedric. Cho poked him.
"Right," he said, "Let's get this caucus off the ground."
"What?"
"Do we all agree that we don't want Harry Pottare last just because his points are?" said Fleur.
"Actually," said Cedric, "given the current point spread and the seeming cheating behind it, I suggest reverse point order."
They looked around.
"Agreed," said Fleur.
"I'm still abstaining," said Harry.
Rebekah elbowed him.
"I don't have a problem with that," said Harry, "I don't even remember what points everyone got."
"Do you remember how much money you made?" said Rebekah.
"Only in vague numbers," said Harry.
The others goggled at him.
Rebekah snickered, "How vague?"
"The net on selling the dead dragon was worth more than the contest prize," Harry said carefully. He'd only made just upwards of eighty galleons for his part as a member of the rendering team, but it wouldn't do to mention the difference in front of everyone.
"How are you not in slytherin?" said Cho.
"When I was sorted, I was having a falling out with my cousin there," said Harry, "I thought that was common knowledge by now."
Rebekah poked him in the ribs again.
"Is there an as simple explanation about Hermione's sorting?" said Cedric.
"The Lady is right here," said Victor.
"I was about to say," said Harry, "You should ask her yourself."
"I thought I just had," said Cedric, and turned to Hermione.
"Later," said Hermione, "I think we're rapidly approaching being late."
Everyone agreed, and shortly after, everyone agreed that reversed points order was appropriate: Harry, Cedric, Fleur, Victor.
.
As previously predicted, after the first two dances, Tracy left Daphne at the punch bowl and came and collected Harry from Rebekah, and they danced together for another two dances, before stopping for a break and a snack. Ron and Millicent sat near them.
"That was some very passable dancing out there," drawled Ron.
"Likewise old chum," Harry was unsure whether he was imitating Draco, or if he was imitating Fred and George mocking someone else.
"If you're trying to collect a dance with all the girls in slytherin," said Ron, "I could trade with you for one dance."
"Um, no," said Tracy.
Ron shrugged then blushed.
"I sort of can't believe you said that," said Harry.
"Millie put me up to it," said Ron.
"What?" said Tracy, "Why?"
"She bet me I couldn't make the offer," said Ron.
"For what possible purpose?" said Tracy.
"Probably to test whether she's dosing me with the correct amount of love potion," said Ron.
"Ron!" said Millicent.
"That's not funny," said Tracy.
"No, really," said Ron, "I think it's hilarious."
"Then why aren't you laughing," said Millicent.
"Because it's not on to laugh while you're telling the joke, you're supposed to wait until your audience gets the joke, then laugh with them."
Millicent burst out laughing.
Harry and Tracy looked at each other.
She said, "I bet they didn't start drinking before lunch."
Harry smiled, "OK, but what was your excuse."
Tracy stuck her nose in the air, "I don't ever explain myself."
Harry shrugged, "Fine, fine," he sighed.
"Actually, he raises a good point, do you owe anyone else a dance before I return you to Rebekah?"
"Possibly Hanna, Susan, Hermione," Harry shrugged, "But tonight I don't have onerous amounts of intrigue going on to keep track of and pass notes around on. Lately, I've been in the amusing new position of not being the centre of attention, merely being a supporting character in everyone else's dangerous tournament that someone had the bad taste to nominally yank me into. It's significantly less disruptive of my revising."
Tracy chuckled, "you really don't like your fame, do you?"
"Not really, no."
"How do you feel about being relegated to a supporting character?"
Something in her performatively neutral tone made Harry sit up and take notice. Then he understood, that she and Rebekah were used to taking 'supporting character' roles compared to their parents' grand business ventures. And unlike Draco Malfoy, they were not being trained to deal with the fame and appropriate it as their own. From what he could tell, Rebekah and Tracy were being strongly encouraged to progress in their practical studies: potions, and either arithmancy and herbology, or runes and care of magical creatures. Which would certainly stand them to 'not be failures,' but wasn't the same as being able to fulfil or use the fame that their parents were amassing along with their wealth. Except perhaps to the extent that their fame was based on competence.
"Now that I think about it," said Harry, "Perhaps it would not have been as much a waste of time to listen to Lockhart's ideas about fame and reputation management, even if I did have to dice them up finely and filter them through my own moral framework. As an elective, it certainly would have been less useless than the defence that he did teach."
"I seem to remember you doing well in his class."
"Yes, because Hermione was managing my reading schedule, and I can read all three systems of wand motion diagrams, and Hermione can guess the language of origin from spelling, and decipher the correct pronunciation on first or second reading, and we tutored each other, not because Lockhart's lessons on defence were particularly better than Binns'."
"Oh," said Tracy, "Yeah, I guess I did study defence like history last year."
"Yes, that's what I meant."
"But you didn't answer my question."
"Which question?"
"Which of those girls do you need to dance with, vs. want to dance with."
"I feel mildly obligated to give them a dance if they ask when I'm not otherwise occupied," said Harry, "I don't feel obligated to seek them out and offer."
"Such a wizard," said Tracy.
"What?"
"I'm going to explain something," said Tracy, "it is not an endorsement of either group of behaviour, it's just my own observations:"
"I'm listening, and ready to not-criticise your observational skills or method of expressing what you've seen."
"Good, alright, it looks to me like you've already noticed and internalised, that unlike the muggle side, in Magical Britain witches and wizards are equal."
"Certainly," said Harry.
"And you've correctly inferred, possibly from watching everyone interact at the dance lessons, that in a normal situation that involves dancing, this means anyone can ask anyone to dance the next dance with them."
"Well, yeah," said Harry.
"It is very much a development from the rich history of, I suppose, folk dancing of the four Kingdoms of Britain from before the statute, and since then, gradually evolving into what makes the most sense for the practicalities and developments of Mage culture: Adults can apparate home, if they managed not to become too drunk, and floo home otherwise. Apart from children too young to apparate, (and the rare circumstance that there's no floo), no one needs anyone else's escort to or from the party. Except in those cases where you don't know where you're going and need a guide your first time going there. So everyone is equal, and can come and leave as they choose. It has some symptoms of the 'atomisation of society' that the muggles are complaining about their factory economy and telephones causing. But it's different. Again specifically because the equality is more pronounced in some ways, that the blood purity biases and economic class biases stand out in starker contrast, though I've been given to understand that they are not worse than the various prejudices that muggles have."
"Outside of the last war, I might could understand the opinion," said Harry, "But given that war, I'm not ready to agree or disagree with it."
"Yes well," said Tracy, "What was I talking about?"
"Dancing?"
"Right," said Tracy, "The problem that you seem not to have grasped is that a formal dance is a concept that was imported internationally, and possibly from muggles, it is a game with specific rules, entirely social, with no one keeping track of points, or at least, not yet at our age, but everyone possibly observing how well you know and can conform to those rules for the evening, even if they are stupid and impractical rules, and no one present believes that those rules which represent one particular way that muggles solved an interlocking series of constraints, is the best, or the only, or even a particularly good method of solving that problem, or that any of those constraints mean anything. Only that your ability to follow arbitrary rules, about dances (or about dance steps), implies your ability to follow arbitrary rules about anything else, like keeping contracts."
"I understand how that conclusion follows, but you've lost me in the details."
"This is a formal dance, many of the rules are about only dancing the steps to each piece of music that are designed for that piece of music, though our rules about who can design new sets of steps, supposedly are less rigid than muggles, that doesn't mean every piece of music has more than one set already invented. Just like anyone can work through all the complex arithmancy to invent a new spell, but very few do, especially if there's already a well-known spell to match an application. Similarly, one of the rules is that 'the wizard asks the witch for each dance,' (or if they so negotiate beforehand: all the dances and her hand on his arm between dances)."
"Oh," said Harry, "and therefore if I think, that I might owe Hanna, or Susan, or Hermione a dance, it's my role to watch for when they are not otherwise occupied, and make the offer, rather than wait for them to appear."
"Precisely."
"Alright," said Harry, "And I suppose, I must be ready to take 'no' for an answer because they may have already negotiated away all their dances with whomever."
"Also true."
Harry nodded and started looking around.
Hermione was dancing with Victor in a hexagonal pattern that looked … well planned with Cedric and Cho, and Theodore Nott with … was that Patricia Derrick?
OK, whatever.
Fleur was now dancing something that seemed less formal with a girl from Durmstrang, and two boys from Beauxbatons that might in fact also be part veela. Maybe it was exactly as formal, but they were all good at it and made it look easy.
Ah, and Millicent was dragging Ron in that direction. Harry would have to ask later how that went, also about the steps and style of dancing. He scanned farther, Hanna was dancing with Ernest Macmillan. Susan was at a table talking earnestly with Neville, who looked uncomfortable, but focused.
And then the screaming started.
But it was … happy screaming?
"What in the world?" said Harry turning to see where the crowd was looking.
"It's the Weird Sisters," said Tracy, "So … this is no longer a formal dance, we can dance however the hell we want."
"Oh," said Harry.
"I'ma go dance with Daphne for real," said Tracy, "if it gets formal again before you leave, offer one more dance to Rebekah, otherwise," she shrugged, "It's the Weird Sisters, enjoy, bye."
"Ohkay," said Harry, "I thought you came with Daphne."
"Of course, I didn't," said Tracy, "that's against the rules for a formal ball."
"OK, but …"
"I came with Blaise, Daphne came with Theo, didn't you notice?"
"I'm afraid I was busy not stepping on Rebekah's feet."
"Of course you were," said Tracy, "I'm sure she appreciated that."
"I don't think she did, she puts her feet so many places all at once, I don't think she realises the effort that everyone else has to make."
Tracy laughed, "I'll be sure to tell her you said so." Then she wandered off.
"Alright," said Harry to himself, finding himself again on his feet, and no refreshments left to give him an excuse to sit down again, "so who are the Weird Sisters?"
.
He soon found out.
After a song and a quarter he was sure he now knew much more than he wanted to, and was relieved when Hermione grabbed his elbow on her way past and dragged him outside.
It was the wrong elbow for her to have grabbed, which Harry quickly realised was because she was still holding Victor's elbow in the more formal way.
...-...
Garden paths
Outside in the quiet of the courtyard, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and Victor led the way over to a stone bench, though no one seemed eager to draw a wand and start the process of dispersing the snow and warming the stone.
"Vhat is he doing here already?" said Victor.
"He looked as annoyed about how loud the music is, as we are," said Hermione, "So I snagged him, I'm still trying to teach him he's allowed to take care of himself. Harry, are you ok now? You know you could have walked out of there without waiting for permission from me."
"Yeah, I'm fine," said Harry, then heard what he said and how little information he actually normally gave people between 'mildly irritated,' and 'willing to make this sacrifice to refine the skill I need or save the day,' and 'enduring something unutterably intolerable.' And that Hermione cared enough to estimate past that.
In the back of his mind, Nim was a mix of amused, and horrified that she hadn't correctly interpreted his level of 'excitement' between 'good excitement: I'll stay thanks' and 'bad excitement: barely holding on in a brain that's trying to dive into flashback or emergency response'.
It's not like that, thought Harry, I really was fine. Uncomfortable at the noise level, but not so far gone to confuse banshee clarinet and drums for actually banshees and explosions.
"Snagged means stolen?" Victor clarified.
"It means caught and pulled," said Hermione, "It doesn't always mean stolen."
"Oh," said Victor, after a long moment, and a glance back towards the door, he caught Harry's eye, "Don't mind her, she did not 'walk out of there' either, until she verified with me."
Hermione sputtered.
"Vhat I'm trying to say," said Victor, "Is OK to seek consentaneity with peers before rebelling against potisnichestvo err oppression."
"Raising consensus against …" Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Unionising? against loud music?"
Victor rolled his eyes, "against anything that hurts you. Tell your friends, see if they agree, not because if they disagree it means you are wrong, maybe they like loud music, that is fine, for them. But … in case all of them also wish to turn it down also, or merely would do so to make you comfortable and help you enjoy their favourite thing also, or in case," he shrugged, "maybe the weird sour food is poisonous without the salt sauce and they'd be glad to teach you how to eat it properly, if you give them a chance." He shrugged again.
"Was that overly specific for a reason?" said Hermione.
"Crabs and artichokes are also weird foods," he said and rolled his eyes, "Harry, Have you made progress on the egg?" Speaking of loud horrible noises, instead of horribly loud noises!
"Not enough to be able to explain," said Harry, "Can we not talk about that tonight?"
"You are vorried?" said Victor, "you vere hiding it vell earlier."
Harry shrugged, "I was concentrating on not embarrassing myself tonight, not about not dying later. There is time enough for each."
"Ha!" said Victor.
The conversation petered off, and then began to get awkward.
Harry looked at Hermione and was trying to figure out how to ask if the point of being out here was to collaborate or ask devious questions out-of-sight-in-plain-sight, or if it really had just been about rescuing him from the music. Because maybe it really was about rescuing him from the music.
"Harry," said Hermione, "Do you remember your advice to me just before the first time I brushed your hair?"
"Not specifically," said Harry.
"That I'm your honorary step-sister when I feel like it, and not when I don't?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"Also sometime last summer, you agreed to no right to feel jealous of me, in a related context that when I wish for your protection I'm allowed to ask for it."
"Um?" said Harry, and began to get the drift of the subtext, "Yes, I remember agreeing to that. Merged together they add up to: trusting you to ask for the help you want."
"Exactly," said Hermione, "Go away, Victor and I, might or might not snog, or might merely discuss German verb conjugation, and regardless, what we do will not be any of your business until one of us chooses to notify you about it."
For a moment Harry was in fact jealous, (barely,) in the sense of 'mildly disoriented that someone would want to spend time with someone other than me.' Not in the sense of 'blinding red hot rage,' that Nim seemed to think he should feel about … a really random selection of things, which was for sure a Bellatrix Lestrange problem, not a normal people problem. And then he was mildly distracted by whether 'conjugation' might have an additional 'romantic' meaning, and if Hermione had meant that instead just now, and … either way she seemed to trust Victor, and her own ability to negotiate with him whatever transactions might come up. So it came down to … Trust Hermione, as if he had any idea how not to do that.
"Certainly," said Harry, "You perceive me the soul of discretion and wandering away as if I have no idea you're here."
"Thanks."
She rolled her eyes.
They smirked at each other and he wandered farther away from the music, and deeper into the snow-covered shrubbery. And continued to wonder about the shades of meaning in what Hermione said, "go away, I'll call for help if I want it," was clear enough but the rest …
Yes, master. 'Conjugation' can mean sex things, but she didn't mean it that way, she's admitted that she's hoping to at least snog him tonight, and that she also hopes not to scare him off by saying so too early. She said the language thing to help make sure you wandered away, she'd have led with that, except she thinks she owes you enough honesty that she told you the other also. But she'd rather he think it's all his idea, or something. Muggle culture seems to have this idea that negotiations can be improved by no one admitting what they want.
I'm confused.
They call it 'easy' when you can tell before you start negotiating, that both of you want sex, and want it from each other. It's supposed to detract from the experience, but I've never found that to be true. Honesty helps in all negotiations for long-term contracts, except for setting the price. For short-term, and predatory contracts, dishonesty can be advantageous, but only when your reputation can be protected from the inevitable results.
Maybe, but Victor isn't a muggle-born.
Exactly. But Hermione is, and doesn't realise the 'avoid seeming easy thing' is a muggle tradition. She's honest with you, because she trusts you, and knows you don't trust easily. She's not as honest with Victor because she doesn't think he wants it, nor yet deserves it from her. She hasn't yet noticed the difference between the modern mage culture's version of 'eliding references to sex in front of children' and the muggle traditions she's used to regarding the same thing.
Possibly.
So are you jealous?
I'm not sure I get to call what I'm feeling that. So, possibly, no. Why?
On the one hand, jealousy implies … usually … [red hot rage, (in this case aimed very definitely at Hermione)] Umm, someone getting the thing that you think is yours, either that they're taking it away from you, or that they're gaining access to it for less than you paid to gain access to it.
And since I don't feel that?
That means you are doing the sexual tutoring thing, properly. Really training her to be ready to fly away and live her best life, eventually, without you.
Good, I think, then what's your problem?
Mostly that Hermione caught so much of your attention without submitting to a mark or whatever.
Oh, yeah, but I didn't mark you to force you to be mine, I forced you to be mine to rescue you from belonging to worse people.
… Right.
So, does all that imply that you aren't doing the sexual tutoring thing properly?
[naughty amusement] perhaps, but … my jealousy problem isn't about your sexuality growing to include others in addition to me, but about … hmm … protective of my place as your top advisor. Safety while performing sexual acts is merely one of many areas that I'm tutoring you in.
Right. Hmm … you do know that Hermione was my best advisor in many things before you came along.
First doesn't mean best.
But I think we agreed, it does imply who gets to feel jealous of who.
And you don't think Hermione doesn't feel jealous when you take my advice over hers, because she was first, just like I feel jealous when you take her advice over mine, when my advice is better, because I've worked harder and longer to know what to do in whatever situation I'm advising about.
Whatever. Anyway…
So … I take it, you're not so jealous of her and her fun, that you'd be easy to entice to come have fun with me?
Maybe later, I'm still hoping that they'll go back to music slow enough I can dance to it. Or at least quiet enough that I can find Rebekah and will be able to hear instructions over the roar of the music.
I understand. The snow was so good at dampening sound that he almost bumped into Professor Snape and Headmaster Karkaroff arguing about the different colours of dark marks.
If their dark marks could fade … that was fine whatever, enchantments did, faster than tattoos even. but … darkening again? That sounded like…
Karkaroff has a thrall mark, which has only faded as the Dark Lord's magic retreated, rather than vanishing. The dark lord isn't dead, now his mark is coming back, darkening, becoming more distinct.
Does that mean I could claim Karkaroff the way I claimed you?
Of course, master, If you catch him being bullied and trick him into going Stockholm for you, but … you'll have to work a lot harder to manage that for him that you did for me. I wasn't recovering properly from some of the things the dementor exposure did to me.
Yeah, but …
Just because the lie we told Neville could have been true. It wasn't true. The dark lord isn't dead, apparently.
Oh. Yeah, but, we knew that, possessed Quirrell, the cursed diary, etc.
I wonder.
What?
How he managed not to die.
What do you mean?
You destroyed that book, right?
Yes.
I need to check something.
What?
Permission to go visit Gringotts and your godfather's library?
Do you know where he lives?
He was my cousin, he thinks that I'm still loyal to the House of Black. He thinks he's blackmailing me to spy on you like a good Auntie: babysitting, but his grandfather really did try to sell my allegiance. So he doesn't know, but I am your thrall, not his older younger cousin. Your property, not his subject.
I understand, tell him I've been hoping to meet him for years now.
Certainly.
Also … depending on Hermione and … whatever she decides to do with Victor, or anyone else who might catch her eye … if I'm not welcome at her house again next summer, will he please consider whether he has room to put me up somewhere.
Yes, I will ask him. I expect her choices tonight, will not make you unwelcome in her house, but possibly unwelcome in her room. Unless you get significantly more impolitic than your usual, and get as judgey about her behaviour as Ron might have been if he hadn't started flirting with his slytherin girl long before he noticed that you two skipped right past flirting all the way to pleasing-each-other lessons. Calling her names would probably be the fastest way to get kicked out of her house.
That does kind of make sense.
Of course, I do, I know what I'm talking about.
Never mind, do you think I should warn her that Snape is around and … might object to …
Public displays of affection?
Yes, that.
Possibly.
Harry turned that way but soon found that they hadn't stayed where he'd left them, not even long enough to clear the snow off that bench, instead, if he were any judge of which footprints were whose, they'd left the courtyard by the passage under the elevated walkway, and were headed for a walk around the lake, which might only be a walk around the lake, or it might be 'taking the long way' back toward the Durmstrang ship, and therefore Victor's room.
Harry couldn't hide a smile. And strangely couldn't decide if he was wishing them each well, or wishing them both well.
He sighed deeply, which reminded him of how cold it was out here.
Time to go back inside.
Yes, but you don't have to go back to the ball, if you don't like the music.
I don't know if I dislike it, as music, I just … dislike how loud it is, also the suddenness of how it started.
Informed consent.
What?
You were not sufficiently warned what kind of music would be played, therefore the consent you gave by attending was not informed consent.
You're saying that loud music is a form of rape? Umm, I don't think that's fair.
Not rape, no, but an assault (if you weren't warned what to expect), yes.
Or if my attendance was a 'command performance,' regardless of what I was warned about the music?
Precisely.
Hum, I wonder if Hermione would agree.
Obviously, she agrees with me, I happen to be right. And I submit as proof that she wouldn't have interrupted her date for three minutes to rescue you if she hadn't been able to tell that you needed rescuing.
Fair enough.
Did I ever teach you the variable strength deafening charm?
No?
I apologise for the oversight, remind me to rectify this breach when I'm not travelling, otherwise I'd just invite you to come in and view memories.
Thanks … Also, it's not really that bad, now that I'm over the shock. I'll leave again if I start feeling overwhelmed again.
.
In the dubious quiet of the corner away from the band, Harry found Susan sitting alone. And looking … somewhat dazed? And three seats apart was Parvati's sister staring intently across the dance floor.
They weren't talking to each other. Which seemed sad somehow.
He went and sat in the middle, one seat away from each of them.
"Hello Susan," he said, "Hello, Padma?"
"Hello, Mr. Potter," said Padma.
"Hello," said Susan. Very slightly slurred.
"Are you drunk?" said Harry.
"Yes, very," said Susan, the lisping seemed more under control now. "Probably the drunkest I intend to get for the rest of my time in Hogwarts."
"Huh?" said Padma.
Susan shrugged and turned to face them instead of the room at large. "What?"
"I'm confused," said Padma, "you seem proud of yourself for being drunk, but you seem to be saying that you don't like it much."
"I'm not deciding whether I like it or dislike it, I'm deciding what it feels like, and paying attention to whether I say important secrets, or only say things that I'd normally not bother giving away the time to explain them."
"What sorts of important secrets?" said Harry, "Are there also unimportant secrets?"
"Of course, there are important and unimportant secrets," said Susan, "An important secret would be ministry related or like when I — or did you — that's a trick question isn't it?"
"Yes," said Harry. And then because it felt like the silence could get awkward otherwise he continued, "That's not quite how I meant the question, but yes I'm glad you were still alert enough to figure it out, good job."
She giggled, "Maybe." She giggled harder.
It seemed like she'd be giggling for a while, he turned to Padma, "how about you, what are you observing from all the way over here?"
"In my family," she said, "we're encouraged to become competent in very many things, some subjects are primarily theory, and others primarily practice. And others are … I'm not sure what to call them, perhaps observational."
"Certainly," agreed Harry, "History is theory, Charms is practical, Defence is observational, Transfiguration is all three."
"You've mostly understood me, but all of those subjects require all three kinds of learning to achieve true mastery."
"No way," said Harry, "History—"
"History starts out theory," agreed Padma, "with the intention of giving you the background to be able to understand what you see happening around you, hence observational."
"Alright," said Harry.
"And once you have observed, you have a chance to act. Hence practical."
"True," said Harry, "But at that point, it's no longer called history, that kind of observation is called 'news' or in professional circles, it's called 'intelligence,' and being active at history I think is called politics."
"Or heroism," said Susan, "Or just citizenship, whatever."
"True," said Harry.
"I won't argue with that," said Padma, "But you've understood what I mean, and are trying to get out of it with semantics. Or … or … oh, alright, anyway, one of the practical and observational subjects that we were made aware of very early was 'presenting beauty.' In other words, being pleasing to the eye. Something that we're not supposed to have noticed yet, but which as identical twins with different peer groups, it would have been hard to miss, is that being pleasing to one's own eyes, is different from being pleasing to the eyes of others."
"Hmm, that makes sense," agreed Harry.
"So generally," said Padma, "Parvati experiments, and observes herself. And I also observe and I copy that which also pleases me. But lately, she experiments and I observe, more specifically, I observe the effects she generates in others, instead of, and in addition to, the effects that she generates in me."
"Oh," said Harry.
"And tonight, I've also been watching the four veelas. Err part veelas."
"I think I only noticed Fleur, before tonight. Are there also two boys? Or were they just dancing close enough that my sense of her ambush thingy overlapped them too?"
"First of all it's called their 'allure.' Second, yes there are two boys, and an additional girl, possibly more, but yes, Fleur shows the strongest representation of that heritage. Also, she's of the highest status among them, so it comes out more naturally. When she's not around, they show up better, and I don't just mean, by contrast. I mean that they are aware of each other and don't attempt to outshine her when she's also around. I think there are one or two more around from both the foreign schools, but they are low enough status and stick close enough to the group that they hardly ever bother to turn it on."
"It's a status thing?"
"Very much so. Also as you must have guessed, it's for dominating humans, though veela have chosen the lighter path of economic and social dominance and protection, rather than the physical dominance and predation that succubi are known for, or the original sirens which are isolationist and only use it for signalling status amongst themselves."
"I thought sirens were a myth."
"They may currently be extinct, but that doesn't mean they always were."
"Alright."
"I wonder if succubi are a siren-hag crossbreed, veela can obviously cross-breed with humans, even if successful conception is rare."
"Yes," hiccuped Susan, "and it's normally not talked about outside of books and … gossip columns."
"Humph," snorted Padma.
"Do ravenclaws always ignore rules for what to only talk about in books?"
"Possibly," said Padma, "Perhaps the reason that some things do get talked about in books is that they were written by ravenclaws, who in general don't believe in those rules."
"Oh," said Susan, "so the books shouldn't talk about them either?"
"Or perhaps they should not be against the rules to talk about, regardless of the talking being in or out of books."
"I'm confused," said Susan, "are you being confusing, or am I just too drunk to keep up?"
"Possibly both," said Harry judiciously, "Do you want to sober up and check?"
"Not yet, and you're starting to sound like Neville."
"I'm almost afraid to ask," said Padma.
"I knew Neville has the most experience being drunk," said Susan, "The question was if we wanted to spend the evening dancing, or talking, or drinking. He said dancing and talking, and why was I considering drinking when I could drink any Hogsmeade weekend? So I explained how I'd never managed to be drunk, and I didn't care to really try on my limited allowance, and he agreed that it was an important thing to have observed in oneself, in order to be really safe around alcohol, and we agreed that I'd check how much it took to achieve the various levels, and he'd help me watch. So we did that, then when we agreed that too much more and I'd fall asleep, he got me tea, and reminded me that what was already in my stomach and not yet in my blood was going to keep making me a little bit drunker for a little while longer and the safe thing was to not just stop before that, but to also start diluting it with water or tea or coffee before it could put me all the way to sleep. I drank the first two cups, like he said, but then I stopped, to make further observations before trying to get all the way sober. He helped for a little while longer, then he got bored and left."
"That sounds … mildly sad, and mildly justified," said Padma.
"Totally justified," said Susan, "I'd have gotten bored already too. I cannot imagine doing this on purpose more than twice or three times a year. And even that much implies an excess of money and time to waste."
"So … are you enjoying the sensation?" said Padma.
"I'm enjoying the newness of the sensation," said Susan, "I imagine that some people could get so used to it that they could instead enjoy the familiarity of the sensation. Mostly I … No, I don't really enjoy it. But I don't really see wasting all the effort I put into drinking so much. Even if the cost didn't come out of my allowance."
"You do realise that you're also wasting the time you could be dancing," said Harry.
"True," said Susan, "Um… so are you. Um?"
"I was hoping for more music that I know how to dance to," said Harry.
"I can teach you how to dance to this," said Susan and stood up, and turned to him, then opened her eyes very wide, and she sat down again, "Never mind."
"Would you like me to retrieve you some more tea?" said Padma.
"Yes, Please," said Susan.
"Humph," said Padma and walked away.
Harry was almost certain that she was intentionally showing off that she was capable of walking.
He found himself watching her.
Bed her, and see if she wants additional lessons with you and Hermione.
Nim?
She wants to be bedded tonight, Hermione is busy catching Victor, I'm busy checking another way my previous master might be not-dead, enjoy yourself, or … enjoy learning by helping her make her observations about what pleases the male gaze instead of her own.
Oh, fair enough.
Of course, I'm right, aren't I always?
No.
When have I not been right?
Muggles are people too?
Oh, hmm, alright, when have I not been right about sex? Or reading non-slytherins that don't have enough occlumency control or acting skill to mask?
Harry giggled, I'm fairly sure that counts as a trick question.
Certainly.
Susan peeked over his shoulder, "What are you laughing at?" she said. Had she just scooted a seat closer? Or had that happened while he was concentrating on talking to Nim. No, it was back when she proposed to teach him how to dance to Weird Sisters, then found herself currently unable.
"Did I ever mention that Nim talks in my head sometimes?" said Harry.
"Something about it being mostly pictures and a bit harder to decipher than runes?"
"A bit easier to decipher than runes," said Harry, "but yes. Also, she can look out my eyes when she gets too bored looking out her own."
"Sure."
"And sometimes, what she sees is very different than what I see."
"Because she's a cat?"
"Because she's a cat, and thinks humans are weird, or because she's female and thinks I'm weird, or because she's older than me, and thinks I ought to learn things she knows. Or because she's not a gryffindor and thinks rescuing people from immediate danger is a small subset of rescuing all people from all danger, specifically this time teaching other people things that I know, that they might not."
"That sounds like the reasoning behind why we have a defence class," said Susan and stopped trying to peek over his shoulder to just leaning on it, and squeezing his elbow in both her hands.
"Well, yes," agreed Harry.
Ah, diagnosed Nim, a snugly drunk, they're the best. If she's anything like the Lovegood I trained, she'll put out if you so much as hint that doing so would be a good way to secure a warm place by your side all night.
Oh, dear.
But if she loses her virginity that way, it will either scare her off sex or alcohol or both for life. Be a dear, and don't take advantage of that until you're sure that she's sure whether she'd do the same while stone-cold sober.
Fair enough.
It would just be sad to ruin her life that way, as well as make life that much dimmer for everyone she might otherwise seduce in the future.
I suppose.
I know it will be a sacrifice for you, but for team hedonism, long term, you know.
I get it Nim! And you were just busy pushing me at Padma, was scaring me away from Susan really that necessary?
Yes, it was. I'm very serious about Susan. Pushing you at Padma was just funny.
Oh.
You're welcome to Padma though, so far as I'm concerned. Unless you have a chance at Rebekah or Tracy, you might be mildly under obligation to them, for tonight only. So to speak.
I doubt it, the contract was specifically against that.
That contract was with Rebekah, and was against long-term commitment, and against romance, not against some pleasant horniness.
I specifically disbelieve you about it ruling out 'pleasant horniness,' I will take it under advisement that the point of the contract might preclude being seen wandering off with Padma.
Good point.
.
...-...
{End Chapter 9}
A/N: Sorry, that this got released the first time before the normal amount of editing.
And thanks for the reviews! Especially to MattBlack who pointed out to me some ambiguities in the conversations here.
