"Harry, I think that the editor of the Daily Prophet might just be afraid of you."

"Hmmmm?"

"They were actually very complimentary. No mentions of your dark magic core or your supposed affinity for dark creatures whatsoever. They didn't even call you The Slayer."

"Excellent. If I can't get them to ignore me, I'm alright with making them fear me."

"You probably shouldn't say things like that if your goal isn't to be a Dark Lord."

…

Harry mulled over the details of his latest fight with Mad-eye. He was getting closer and closer to beating the old auror, but the frustrating man always seemed to have another trick up his sleeve. Turn the ground under him into quicksand, he would sink into it and start using it like a golem. Turn the air around him into poison gas and he would transfigure his lungs to filter it out as he breathed. The professor's focus on his power never faltered, so Harry could never immobilize him with raw magic or denature his cells from the inside. Harry was learning more than he ever had about fighting other powerful wizards, but he still felt like he was behind despite the power imbalance. Which, he supposed, was fair given the difference in years of experience and practice, but it still grated on him.

He glanced up at McGonagall as she spoke to the class. He rarely paid much attention in normal classes anymore, just enough to do the homework and pass the tests. The practical work was far beneath him now. He idly wondered if Albus would let him self-study.

McGonagall had finished class and was now talking about a school dance that was taking place over winter break. Harry wasn't interested.

At least the dragons were gone so he could train in the forest again. He loved flying, but there were other skills he still needed to work on. He wanted his raw magic to be as honed as possible, allowing for precise blasts and fine control to help him actually hit the annoyingly spry auror. It occurred to him that the magical attacks didn't really need to originate from his body, that was more of a mental hangup than a magical one. If he could change the angle-

"Mr Potter, did you hear me?"

Harry blinked. "No, sorry Professor. What was that?"

"I need you to stay behind, please."

The bell rang and the rest of the students filed out. Harry shot Hermione a shrug and she stared back at him with an odd expression. Some blend of frustrated and apprehensive and excited? He'd think about it later.

"Now, Mr Potter, it is traditional for the champions and their partners to open the ball-"

"Sorry, Professor, what ball?"

"The Yule Ball, Mr Potter. That I just spent several minutes speaking about."

"Oh. Right. That ball."

"Indeed. As I was saying, the Yule Ball is traditionally opened with a dance by the champions and their partners, so please make sure that you have a partner and are properly attired to represent the school. And, of course, you must actually attend the ball."

Well then.

Shit.

…

Harry rocketed through the thin, cold air high above a sea of mountainous clouds. He wasn't sure where he was anymore, maybe somewhere over Russia? He had his magic condensed around him to keep him warm and conjure air for him to breathe. He had hoped that flying would help clear his mind, but instead it seemed to just make his thoughts bounce around faster.

Why was dealing with a stupid school dance harder than fighting Death Eaters or demon monsters?

He knew why. He just didn't want to think about it. Hence the running away.

Harry sighed to himself. He could just tell Albus that he wasn't doing it and that was that. The old man wouldn't push him if he was really stubborn about it.

But that didn't solve the underlying issue.

He could ask anyone. He was sure that Luna would go with him if he asked. He could ask Neville, who would probably think that it would be funny to watch the other purebloods implode. He knew that a good number of the girls and probably some of the guys that were strangers would be excited to get to know him.

Then again, maybe Luna and Neville would turn him down. For the same reason that he wouldn't ask them.

Hermione.

Harry didn't want to ask anyone else. Couldn't see himself dancing with anyone else, didn't want anyone else. But that would mean…

A whole lot of things.

Shit.

Hermione was his best friend. His partner in power and vision. His ally against the Dark and anything, everything else that stood against them. She was brilliant and interesting and complicated and…

She was beautiful.

His Ice Queen.

He couldn't ask her to the ball as best friends. He couldn't do that to himself or to her.

But that would mean that he wasn't just asking about the ball. He was asking…

He would be asking for more.

Which was, by all accounts, very scary.

It wasn't something he could take back once it was said.

It wasn't something that he could stop hoping for once he started.

He felt her head falling against his shoulder while they talked. Her hand in his as they flew. The way she recklessly threw her arms around him, how she crushed him with her empowered strength even as he flooded his body with power, and they let their magic sing together.

There was certainly no one else for him. But could he risk asking for more than he already had?

His thoughts spun around and around as he slowly came to a stop and stared upwards at the moon and the endless sea of stars above.

He had never thought about how high he could go.

He flew towards the heavens, trying to let his thoughts drift away as he focused on the stars.

He hardened his magic further, condensing it like he did when he fought with Mad-eye. He remembered the first fight when he was almost torn apart by the vacuum of the auror's vanishing spell. He heated the bubble of air around him and continually refreshed the ratio of oxygen and nitrogen and carbon dioxide.

He sped up and healed his body as the acceleration tore him apart.

It didn't really help take his mind off Hermione.

He stopped and stared down at the world below him. He had no idea how high he was, but he could see the curve of the earth on all sides. He could see the weather patterns and the sea of mundane lights in Europe like clusters of stars. He was detached, untethered in the endless void of space as he floated and…

He could feel the tether from his bracelet, ensuring that he always knew where to find his Queen.

Harry sighed heavily and started flying back towards Scotland. He still wasn't sure what the best thing to do was, but this clearly wasn't helping. At least he knew that he could go to space now.

…

"Oh my."

"What's up Luna?"

"You've managed to acquire a whole colony of wrackspurts. Whatever did you use as bait?"

"I think that you already know, Angel."

"You take all the fun out of it."

…

"Harry, can we talk in private for a moment?"

Harry's stomach clenched at Hermione's words. That was a new feeling. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

"Sure. Want to fly to the clearing?"

"That's sounds good."

Harry did his absolute best not to freak out as they flew over. This was probably something perfectly normal, probably not anything to do with his soul-crushing worries and identity-threatening decisions and twisting knot of stress and-

"Krum asked me to go to the ball with him."

Oh. Okay, so it was all of those things.

The number of different emotions that fired at once overloaded Harry's brain and he just said, "Um…"

"I turned him down."

Hmmm. Those were new and different emotions once again. Harry didn't think he had actually experienced traumatic emotional whiplash before. Very interesting. If he just had roughly thirty seven years to process this and figure out how to reconnect his nerves to his brain, that would be great.

"I said no because I'm hoping that you'll ask me to go to the ball with you."

Oh.

Well then.

Huh.

Reconnecting cognitive thought processes just became a much higher priority. One moment. Please hold.

Her expression was difficult to pin down, but he could tell that she was anxious under the calm facade. He could feel her soul jittering nervously and her eyes held a sea of conflicting emotions.

"Don't keep me waiting for too long, my Knight."

She turned like she was going to fly away.

No, no, we can't have that. Get it together Potter, you stared down a dragon, like, a month ago.

"Wait, Hermione."

She stopped and looked back at him with an unreadable expression.

"I… give me a moment, please."

She arched an eyebrow at him, but she stayed.

Harry took a deep breath. No time to think. Just…

"The first time that I saw you, I thought that you were the most interesting person that I'd ever met. And I… you're brilliant, and beautiful, and… You're everything. To me."

Hermione turned to face him, a roiling cauldron of emotions bubbling in her soul.

"I know that asking you to the ball isn't just about one dance. It's more than that, more than everything else. And I… I want that, more, with you."

She was walking towards him. He was feeling more confident now. She wanted this. Wanted him. She had just said so.

"You're the shining star that leads me through the Dark. You are my safe harbor and my compass, guiding my wayward soul. You're my steadfast partner and equal in magic and power, and I could not possibly ask for a better best friend. And still, I want to ask for more."

He grinned at her as she came to a stop right in front of him.

"Would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

She kissed him.

Harry's brain short-circuited as her lips pressed against his. He kissed her back automatically and felt her breath brush over his skin as her lips parted with his. Their magic sparked and sang together, and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tightly against him even as he felt her hands thread eagerly through his hair and pull his face down to hers.

The extremely tiny part of his brain that still functioned idly wondered when he had gotten taller than her.

Without conscious thought, they lifted off of the ground and floated midair in their clearing, an endless hurricane of magic churning around them. He could feel her glorious soul, dancing and triumphant as it melded with his own. Her lips were soft and demanding as they moved with his while he kissed her back, his arms flooded with power and strength as he crushed her against him even as she pulled their faces together with impossible force, their magic flowing and rising together while her lips claimed his, wanting more, always more…

My Queen.

…

"So, is that a yes, then?"

They still hung in the air over their clearing, wrapped tightly in each other's arms as Hermione rested her head on his chest. Neither of them wanted to let go just yet.

"Yes. To the ball, and everything else."

Harry's heart soared and he couldn't help but pull back and kiss her again.

He would never, ever get bored of that. Or take it for granted.

She hummed happily into his lips before pulling back and staring at him with her brilliant golden eyes, shining with a joyous wonder that he definitely didn't feel like he deserved.

"So, we're doing…this… together? All in? Because I can't go back, Ice Queen-

"Yes. I promise, I've never wanted anything more. You're stuck with me, Death Walker. Did you forget the part where you're never allowed to leave?"

"Never."

…