CHAPTER SIXTEEN: FAMILY BUSINESS

Great Hall

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

5 December 1994

"Before you all leave," Professor Dumbledore began, "I have a brief and exciting announcement for you. This year, in honor of the Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts will host a Yule Ball!"

The Great Hall immediately devolved into a general uproar, and Professor Dumbledore had to shoot several firecrackers out of his wand to regain control of the room.

"The Yule Ball will be open to students fourth year and above…"

The younger students unanimously booed.

"...and students in younger years may attend if invited by an older student."

The younger students looked around, and Hermione felt slightly concerned for her well-being. Clearly, Professor Dumbledore didn't understand teenagers in the slightest.

"Yule Ball attendees will be expected to be dressed in formal attire; your heads of house will review the guidelines with you. If you have any questions regarding whether your attire meets the Hogwarts guidelines, please direct your questions to your head of house. The Yule Ball will take place the Saturday following the end of term in order to cause minimal disruption to individual Yule plans. Now, good luck with the remainder of the term, and good night!"

Benches scraped as everyone stood up and started talking. Hermione shook her head. "Great, just what I needed," she said sarcastically. "Another bloody thing I have to worry about."

"Why would you need to worry?" Lily asked, looking rather confused. "You already have an amazing set of dress robes, and my mother knows a very good hair stylist who has a salon in Hogsmeade as well as London…"

"A date," Hermione said flatly.

"What?"

"A date. I have to find a date, and that's going to be impossible."

"Pssh. Don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm not being ridiculous, I'm being pragmatic," Hermione retorted. "Don't you agree, Millie?"

"...I'm not going to answer that," Millie said.

Lily rolled her eyes. "We're all going to get dates. Just you wait!"

"I'm not going to hold my breath," Hermione muttered as they headed into the dungeons.

"I heard that!" Lily complained. "And why are you being so negative?"

"No one is going to ask me to the Yule Ball."

"That's not a reason," Lily pointed out.

"I don't want to get into it," Hermione said. "Can you just leave it?"

"No."

"At least wait until we're back in our room."

Lily huffed. "Fine."

They walked the rest of the way in silence, Hermione silently seething. She was starting

to hate the Triwizard Tournament. It had an insidious way of finding each and every one of her insecurities and thrusting them out for the whole world to see. First, it was all the digs about her muggleborn-ness, then her poor flying skills, and now she was expected to find a date for the Yule Ball. It was entirely overwhelming, and Hermione didn't think it could get worse.

"Miss Granger."

Hermione turned, about to head down to her dorm.

"A quick word, if you would," Professor Prince said.

A wave of concern passed over her. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Miss Granger. However, there is some information regarding the Yule Ball specific to champions. You will be expected to dance the opening dance of the Yule Ball, which means it is required for you to find a partner to take to the event."

Hermione's heart sunk.

"While the Yule Ball will have more relaxed standards in deference to the students' youth, you should be aware that you will be subject to high standards of decorum due to your status. The ball will open with a traditional Viennese waltz. Do you have experience with traditional dance?"

"Not particularly, sir. My parents enrolled me in a few ballroom dance lessons as a child at my grandmother's insistence, but I never learned more than the basics."

Professor Prince looked somewhat pained. "If you feel comfortable doing so, reach out to your fellow students for assistance. If you do not feel comfortable, notify me, and I will organize something. I am certain Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout are planning dance lessons for their students."

"Is there anything else, sir?"

"No. Have a pleasant evening, Miss Granger."

"Have a pleasant evening, sir," Hermione mindlessly echoed, mind already elsewhere and panicking. She turned, and headed to her dorm, completely unaware of her professor's concern.

Millie and Lily were waiting for her, and Lily shot a muttered spell at the door. "There. No one will disturb us."

Hermione took a seat at her desk.

"So," Lily said, clearly expecting Hermione to pour her heart out.

Hermione crossed her arms, having no intention of doing such a thing. "So."

"Aww, don't be a stranger, Hermione!"

Hermione shrugged.

"Why do you think you won't find a date?"

Hermione tried to dodge the question. "I don't think anyone will ask me."

"Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Hermione. Don't be ridiculous. Why do you think that no one will ask you?" Lily trapped her in a stare, and Hermione could tell the other girl wasn't going to back down.

"I'm not pretty enough," Hermione muttered. "All the boys just want to bring some pretty girl to the Yule Ball, and I'm not that. I've got this stupid hair, and these stupid teeth, and no one's going to ask me, okay? Happy?"

"No."

"You wanted an answer, so I gave you one."

"None of that's true, Hermione."

"Yes, it is. I look in the mirror and see it everyday, so I know."

"Hermione…," Lily began.

"Just leave it, please."

Mille spoke for the first time. "Hermione."

"What, you too?"

"Just be grateful for who you are. Boys would be dumb not to ask you, and if you're really that worried about your hair and teeth, those can both easily be changed. Just think about that, alright? Some of us can't be as lucky."

Hermione opened her mouth to snipe back, then thought better of it. "I need to prepare for the second task," Hermione said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'll be back later." She left without a backward glance, and didn't see Millie bury her face in her hands.

Millicent Bulstrode, Hermione Granger, and Lilian Moon's Dormitory Room

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland

7 December 1994

Millie unfolded the letter with trembling fingers, desperately wishing that it was something benign even though she knew that couldn't be the case. Letters marked with the Imperial seal of Russia seldom caused joy.

Dearest Millicent,

We recently received news from your cousins that Hogwarts will hold a Yule Ball. As always, we are delighted that you will have an opportunity to properly represent the family, and trust that you will hold yourself to the highest standards of deportment. We eagerly await photographs of you and your friends at the event, and provide our best wishes to your dear friend Hermione Granger in her pursuit of the Triwizard title.

Kindly ensure that both Hermione and yourself meet with my dear cousin Fleur prior to the Yule Ball. Our family reputation must remain pristine, and you are well aware of the consequences of failure.

Yours in family,

Madelaine Delacour Dolohova

Tsarina of Russia

Millie drew a slow breath, trying to decide if the letter was less bad than she'd expected, or if it was worse. It was always difficult to tell with her cousins, steeped as they were in political intrigue. Slytherin was supposedly the house of cleverness and cunning, but Millie had never felt more out of her depth. She didn't want to deal with the nonsense that came from family politics, especially ones as complex as those surrounding the Russian royal family.

Her mother had never wanted that fate for her. There was a reason, after all, that Ana Dolohova had moved to Britain. She'd hoped to provide her children with a life away from the cesspool of Russian politics. Millie had been raised to stand back and not draw undue attention to herself due to her mother's fears of catching the eye of the tsar. However, it clearly had all been done for naught.

Millie almost considered owling her mother in a desperate bid for help, then dismissed it. She likely was under scrutiny due to her friendship with Hermione and while she had no idea Hermione was Viktoriya Dolohova's granddaughter, her mother would blame her nonetheless. It was all a right mess, and Millie had no idea what to do. There was no escape. The family was always inevitable.

Millie carefully incinerated the letter, then vanished the ashes before going to splash water on her face. All she could do for the time being was follow instructions and pray she didn't accidentally invoke the tsarina's wrath.

The water was cool, and Millie took a moment to center herself as she neatly dried her face in the mirror. She'd always been told she was too tall for a girl. Too tall, and too plain. It would be a different matter if she were stick thin, or had exotic features, but instead, Millie was too tall, too solidly built, and too plain, to hear her mother speak of it.

She'd inherited very few features from her mother's side of the family, instead inheriting her father's strong jaw, thick black hair and broad shoulders. It was a look that read handsome, not pretty, which wasn't a problem for a wizard, but was a different situation for a witch. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about it.

It doesn't matter, either, Millie staunchly told herself as she walked away from the mirror. What mattered most was that she spoke to Fleur, and determined how to best stay in her cousin's good graces. Squaring her shoulders, Millie ignored her reflection and left the Slytherin dorms, heading directly to the Owlery.

It didn't take long to write and send a letter, and Millie left the Owlery feeling slightly accomplished, albeit quite lost in thought.

"Careful, Millicent."

Millie started, realizing she'd nearly crashed into someone in the hallway. "Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going."

Viktor smiled warmly. "It is alright, cousin. How are you? Excited for Quidditch?"

"I -"

Viktor must have registered something in her face, because his smile abruptly dropped. "Is everything alright? No," he quickly interrupted before she could answer. "Do not answer that here. Follow me."

Feeling confused, Millie followed him. Viktor quickly ushered her into a nearby classroom, shut the door behind them, then aimed a litany of spells at the door before nodding in satisfaction. "No one will disturb us. Well? What happened?"

"Nothing," Millie tried. "Everything's fine, Viktor."

"You are not yourself, Millicent. Something clearly is bothering you."

Millie remained silent.

Viktor began to pace. "Did someone say something to hurt you? Because if they did, Stefan and I will find them and make them regret it."

Millie studied her shoes, and suddenly Viktor stopped pacing and swore.

"It is family matters, is it not?"

Millie debated lying, then quickly gave in. "Yes."

"Did they threaten you?"

"I don't know."

"But our cousin did send you a letter?"

"Yes."

"And you did destroy it?"

"Yes. I know how to follow protocol."

Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have also received correspondence recently," he admitted.

Millie's heart dropped. "From our cousin?"

"From our cousin."

"Regarding what?"

"A mutual acquaintance, although for you, a close friend would be more accurate."

Millie bit the inside of her lip. "What did our cousin want?"

"Information."

Millie rolled her eyes. "Of course. But what sort of information?"

Viktor didn't say anything for a moment. "Our cousin...wishes me to become more personally acquainted with your friend."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. The 'premier' social event of the year approaches, and depending on how that goes…," Viktor shrugged, "Who could know?"

Millie struggled to wrap her head around the situation. "But we're family," she protested, "Surely…"

"Fourth cousins evidently are distant enough."

Something pulled at Millie's heart. "Please...please be kind."

Viktor looked solemn. "I will."

Millie felt like she was going to cry. "When you ask her to the Yule Ball...please make her feel special. She doesn't need to know that our cousin demanded this. Just...make it perfect, alright?"

"I will do my best. For what it's worth, I would have asked her regardless of our cousin's demands."

Millie could feel hot tears beading in the corners of her eyes, and a prickle in her nose. Viktor enveloped her in a hug. "Do not cry, Millicent. Everything will be fine, in the end. We will all be okay."

Millie sniffled once before the tears began to fall in full force. "It's not us I'm worried about. She's my friend, and our family could destroy her."

Percival Weasley's Flat

London, England

12 December 1994

"Well, what do you think?" Percy asked.

Audrey Kaltwasser, his girlfriend of six months, merely looked at him.

"Look, I want Ginny to go and have a good time, but it just worries me."

"What worries you?" Audrey asked.

"The whole thing?"

Audrey gave him the Look again.

"The money," Percy admitted softly. "Dress robes are damn expensive to get something nice, and neither Bill nor Charlie have gold to spare. I'm worried about her date, but money is more of the issue. I don't want my sister showing up to the Yule Ball and feeling like she doesn't look beautiful."

"Oh, Percy."

"What?"

Audrey kissed him softly. "You're so sweet."

Percy could feel his ears turn red. "What do I tell Ginny?"

"Tell her you'll take her shopping next weekend at a second hand store, and that your girlfriend knows some good alteration spells. Let Ginny make the decision on her own about whether she wants to accept that offer."

"But what about Nott?"

"You can't change that Theodore Nott asked your sister to the Yule Ball."

"I know. I'm just worried. You know what his father is like."

"Theodore probably isn't much like his father if he asked your sister to the Yule Ball," Audrey pointed out.

"I know. I just...don't want her to have to get embroiled in all these," Percy waved a hand uselessly in the air, "politics."

"Owl your sister, and let her make her own choice. She's thirteen years old; she can start making some of her own choices."

"She's just thirteen," Percy murmured. "I sure wasn't ready to make choices when I was thirteen."

"Trust her, Percy. In reality, this is a small decision, but for her, it will feel huge. Let her have her moment."

Percy sighed. "You're right." A letter was written, and in short order sent off with Percy's owl, Hermes. "Audrey, when did you learn alteration spells?"

"When I was growing up. My mum taught me." Audrey sighed. "We didn't have extra gold around, so we made do with what we had."

"I thought your mum worked for the Wizengamot?"

"The House of Commons doesn't pay much, Percy. My father died when I was small, so there never was quite enough money to go around. I was the youngest of four, so I always had to make do with whatever was left."

"Audrey...I'm sorry. I didn't know that."

"S'okay," Audrey mumbled. "I don't really tell anybody."

"C'mere." Percy reached his arms out, and Audrey cuddled up next to him, head on his shoulder. Somehow, everything seemed quite right, even if he knew he'd spend the remainder of the week worrying whether he'd made the right choice with Ginny. The rest of the week seemed to fly by, and in no time, Ginny was there in London, ready to shop for dress robes.

It took Percy less than thirty seconds to realize he'd made the right choice. Ginny was practically bouncing around the shop, chattering endlessly about the different robes, and occasionally interjecting opinions on Quidditch. Percy did feel rather useless in the shopping adventure - he knew nothing about witches' fashion. Luckily, Audrey did, and Ginny was surprisingly open to her opinions.

It seemed to take forever for the two witches to decide on a selection of robes for Ginny to try on, and then even longer for Ginny to try on each robe.

"The bronze one looks the best," Audrey said.

Ginny flopped her arms around. "It's too big," she complained. "And the sleeves are heavy."

"We can fix that. The most important thing is that it's made from good quality fabric, so it will hold alteration spells well."

"What about the green robe?"

Audrey shook her head. "It's the wrong shade of green for you, and also quite overpriced. Feel the fabric. See how it's thin?"

"Yeah. I just...I dunno. What are you going to change about it?"

"The sleeves, for sure. We'll also take in the waist so it fits you properly. If I may…"

"Sure."

Audrey stood behind Ginny, and gently tugged at the robe. "See, it'll look something like this, but we'll also fix the sleeves, and modify the neckline a bit so it's more modern."

Ginny stared in the mirror for a long moment. "Oh."

"You see? It'll look beautiful on you."

Ginny took another moment to admire herself in the mirror. "Alright. Let's get this one then."

Percy paid for the robe, wincing slightly at the cost, then made his way back to Ginny and Audrey, who were chatting animatedly.

"You know," Audrey was saying, "I also have a hair piece that will look lovely with your dress robes. You can borrow it, if you'd like."

"Really?"

"Really."

Ginny blushed. "Thanks. And thanks, Percy."

Percy threw an arm over Ginny's shoulders and mussed her hair. "Only the best for my favorite sister."

"I'm your only sister, you dolt."

They looked at each other, and burst into laughter. Percy grinned. "C'mon, let's go get some dinner before you have to go back to Hogwarts. I'm starving."

Ginny's face lit up like it was Yule. "Really? This is the best day ever!"

Percy's grin stretched wider, wishing he could frame the moment. Everything, for once, was perfect.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks as always for commenting! Shameless plug, go check out my other new fic, Requiem. Here's the summary:

In 1981, Lord Voldemort was victorious in Godric's Hollow. Fourteen years later, he rules Britain with an ironclad fist. Each year, young witches and wizards compete in Requiem for a place in his inner circle. When Hermione is chosen to represent London, she's forced to use every one of her skills to succeed - or die trying.