CHAPTER 37 – MAJESTIC MASQUERADE
The Saturday preceding the culmination of the academic term marked the ultimate Hogsmeade weekend of the year. More significantly, it served as the last chance for students to acquire those indispensable items deemed essential to make an indelible impression at a social gathering as paramount as the upcoming Yule Ball. More precisely, it was a requisite shopping spree for the female denizens of Hogwarts, intent on securing the final touches to their ensembles. To their male counterparts, such matters were of supreme indifference. However, only the most oblivious among them would dare express such sentiments within earshot of any young lady.
Accompanied by his comrades, Harry ventured into the village, where the normally serene High Street had transformed into a bustling hub of activity, surpassing the typical weekend crowds permitted for student outings. Unsurprisingly, Gladrags emerged as the epicenter of the commotion, witnessing a flurry of students procuring accessories and, in some instances, complete outfits. Nevertheless, Honeydukes, Zonko's, and other establishments in the village also witnessed a surge in foot traffic. It wasn't lost on Harry that the merchants of Hogsmeade were likely grateful for this newfound tradition, guaranteeing a frenzy of student purchases in anticipation of the grand ball.
Lost in thought, Harry sat amidst a sea of merchandise, his attention wandering while Ginny delved into a myriad of baubles and accessories. A question from Fleur jolted him back to the present.
"What about this one, Harry?"
Startled, he gazed up at his amused betrothed, wondering if his expression betrayed the vacancy that pervaded his mind. Having spent the last half-hour as a spectator to Ginny's meticulous perusal, Harry found himself uncertain about the nature of the inquiry.
"It seems we've lost Harry's attention," Hermione remarked with a smirk, materializing behind Fleur. Her expression mirrored the amusement that adorned the face of the French witch.
Harry grumbled under his breath, "All right, you don't need to gang up on me." The conspiratorial chuckles of Hermione and Fleur merged in the air, their amusement evident.
Fleur, taking pity on Harry, interjected, "All right, Harry, I think that's just about enough. Hermione and I will go and pay for our items, and we can move on."
Relieved, Harry nodded his thanks as he waited while the two ladies settled their accounts. Once done, he courteously escorted them back onto the lively street, ready to explore the next shop. Though they had initially ventured into the village with their friends, the group had dispersed to pursue individual priorities. The agreement was to reconvene later at the Three Broomsticks, leaving Harry in the company of his two closest female friends.
As they strolled down the bustling street, the trio found themselves at their next destination – the quaint premises of Hogsmeade's sole florist, Roses and Blooms. While not a traditional practice in the Wizarding world, Harry had thought it a nice touch for Fleur to don a corsage at the ball. They settled on an elegant wrist corsage that would complement her dress and harmonize with Harry's robes. Persuading Fleur to embrace the idea proved effortless; after all, in Harry's limited experience, most women appreciated the beauty of flowers. Even his aunt, who often displayed little overt femininity, couldn't resist a softening whenever Vernon brought home a bouquet.
In the cozy florist, Harry found himself engaged in an unusual conversation with Fleur that left him mildly perplexed.
"Harry," she murmured in a low voice, "why don't you get Hermione a corsage too?"
At that precise moment, Hermione was captivated by an unusually enchanting bloom on the far side of the room. The magical flower boasted a rainbow of petals surrounding a center of astonishingly bright pink.
Sensing from Fleur's hushed tone that she wanted to keep their conversation private, Harry instinctively matched her discreet demeanor. "What's going on? Why the secrecy?"
Amused by Harry's apparent cluelessness, Fleur laughed lightly and placed a gentle hand on his arm, favoring him with a bright smile. "Harry, she's your closest friend. It would be a nice gesture, non?"
Harry, hardly an expert in matters of romance, especially not with Fleur being his first foray into a romantic relationship, couldn't help but ponder the intricacies of this new social terrain. He recognized that in formal settings, a corsage was typically bestowed upon a woman by her escort, with the choice of flower often conveying subtle messages about their intentions or relationship status. Given that Harry was attending the event with Fleur, would it not be peculiar for him to present Hermione with a corsage as well?
However, the situation wasn't as straightforward as Harry initially assumed. The group had collectively decided to attend the function as a unit, acknowledging that most of them were unattached. Though it was evident that Harry and Fleur were a couple, and Neville and Luna seemed to be gravitating towards each other, the twins, in their usual irrepressible fashion, were discreetly involved with Angelina and Alicia. Daphne had astutely pointed out that going as a group was the most equitable approach, given the surplus of girls compared to guys, ensuring that no one felt left out, and the girls would have to share the spotlight.
Yet, despite these semantic negotiations, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that, in his mind at least, he and Fleur were unmistakably attending the event as a couple. The intricacies of group dynamics and shared corsages aside, he grappled with the underlying understanding that Fleur was his date, and that in itself held a certain weight in his inexperienced romantic world.
Voicing his thoughts, albeit somewhat clumsily, even to his own ears, Harry expressed, "But Fleur, I'm going with you."
Fleur's response was measured, "That's not exactly true."
Insistent, Harry argued, "Technically it is. I'll be spending most of the evening with you, and our relationship isn't exactly a secret."
Fleur, seemingly unfazed, questioned, "So what if it is or isn't?"
Harry shot her a look, as if questioning her understanding of the Muggle world—a domain Fleur was known to be more familiar with than she let on. "Giving a corsage to a woman is usually done when she's your date. And despite this 'going as a group' arrangement we've concocted, you are my date."
"Perhaps, but I don't think corsages are strictly reserved for one's date," Fleur countered with a sly smile. "Besides, they're not really used in the Magical world, Harry. No one will know what it means. You can use it simply as a gesture of friendship."
"But Hermione will," Harry countered, a note of concern in his voice. The prospect of Hermione interpreting the gesture differently weighed on him.
"So?" Fleur countered. "Tell her it's a mark of your esteem and in thanks for her continued support. And besides, Harry, she's a beautiful girl. I think it's a mark of your affection and esteem that you would offer to get her a flower. She is your best friend."
Harry felt a growing discomfort settle in. While not completely oblivious to the nuances of interpersonal dynamics, he understood that a girl might perceive another getting too close to her boyfriend as a potential rival and react accordingly. Fleur, on the other hand, seemed utterly unaware that she was inadvertently singing praises of Hermione's desirability with all this talk of beauty and other attributes. Harry was already acutely aware of Hermione's allure—her transformation over the past year had not escaped his notice. Yet, he couldn't entertain the idea of being with Hermione and preferred to direct his focus on Fleur to avoid any potential distractions.
"Umm, Fleur, aren't you… I mean… that is to say…" Harry paused, running a hand through his hair in frustration, trying to find the right words to articulate his concern. A quick glance at Fleur revealed her amusement, a sight that astonished Harry. Laughing! Did she not grasp the gravity of the situation?
"Fleur, you do realize I have no interest in Hermione, right?" Harry asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice.
"Oh?" Fleur responded, raising an eyebrow in playful skepticism.
Harry ignored the nervous butterflies fluttering around in his stomach and responded, "She's just a friend."
"Harry," Fleur chided with a gentle smile, "I'm the one who suggested you get her a flower. I wasn't implying anything by it. I'm sure she'd appreciate the gesture."
And so it happened that Harry found himself at the florist shop, purchasing two corsages. Although Hermione clearly appreciated the gesture, Harry couldn't help but notice the lingering look she gave Fleur when the offer was made. This only added to the confusion swirling in his mind. Fortunately, the girls' shared enthusiasm for the blooms shifted the focus, diffusing the awkwardness of the moment.
In the end, they settled on a pale yellow rose surrounded by small pink carnations for Fleur, symbolizing friendship and love. Hermione, on the other hand, received a yellow rose with white carnations, representing the same friendship, but with added elements of loyalty and faithfulness.
Privately, Harry mused about how the flowers would look on the wrists of the two ladies. Despite the mystery surrounding their gowns' colors and designs, Fleur and Hermione assured him that the corsages would complement them perfectly. The remainder of the afternoon was spent in blissful anticipation, Harry eagerly looking forward to the moment he would finally see them.
Later, as they prepared for the event, Hermione couldn't contain her curiosity. "What was that all about?" she hissed at Harry, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Seated in one of the booths at the Three Broomsticks, Harry excused himself to visit the men's room, leaving Hermione with the perfect opportunity to demand an explanation for Fleur's mysterious gesture with the flowers. It couldn't have been Harry's idea— even he couldn't be that clueless.
Raising an elegant eyebrow, Fleur responded in a mildly exasperating tone, "What was what all about?"
Hermione sputtered, gesturing futilely, frustration etching her features. She truly liked Fleur, and they were nearly at the point of sharing everything, but one aspect of Fleur's demeanor infuriated Hermione—her tendency to act innocent or even foolish when she didn't want to discuss something, especially when she knew Hermione wouldn't be pleased.
"The flowers!" Hermione exclaimed. "Are you trying to push Harry toward me?"
Fleur, with an almost mischievous glint in her eye, countered, "Perhaps you need a little push."
"Please don't do this, Fleur," Hermione pleaded. "I need to figure this out on my own, and it's never going to happen if you interfere."
Fleur sighed, her expression softening into a wry smile. "I won't, Hermione. I know that it is difficult for you. Part of me hopes that you will get on with this, but I know you need time. The flowers are really an understated thing, you know—no harm will come of it."
Just as Fleur delivered her assurance, Harry returned to the table, and the rest of their friends began to trickle into the pub. Hermione, with the arrival of their company, had to be content with the answer she received. Despite her apprehension, Fleur had thus far respected her need to make this decision independently, refraining from pushing her in any particular direction.
Hermione couldn't shake the suspicion that the suggestion of the corsage might have been motivated, even if unknowingly, by a desire to encourage Harry to see her as more than just a best friend. Yet, to her relief, Harry seemed oblivious to any potential ulterior motive. Hermione, determined not to be rushed into a decision, continued to watch Fleur closely, appreciating the patience her friend had shown so far. She wasn't ready to let external influences dictate the pace of her emotions and was steadfast in allowing herself the time to navigate her feelings at her own pace.
Hermione couldn't help but ponder Fleur's relentless pursuit of this match. After all, Fleur could have Harry all to herself without any need to introduce the idea of a second wife. While Fleur often appeared cheerful about the arrangement, there were moments when her guard slipped, leaving Hermione uncertain about her true feelings. Fleur was never overt about any reservations, brushing off suggestions to take things slower, but there were subtle hints that she might not be entirely content with the situation. Despite this, she seemed to have settled on the notion of Hermione becoming another wife and pursued it with unwavering determination.
The following morning brought another awkward moment, at least for Hermione. Although Sunday mail was typically light, Fleur received a short letter from her father that morning. Hermione observed Fleur's growing excitement as she opened the letter, her smile revealing the joy within. It wasn't until Fleur turned to her that Hermione realized the letter had something to do with her.
"My parents would like to invite you and your family to Chateau Delacour for Christmas," Fleur announced, her excitement bubbling forth in a manner that Hermione rarely witnessed in the older girl.
Startled, Hermione remained silent for several moments, noticing odd looks from both Ron and Ginny. It became clear—the Weasleys had hosted Harry for Christmas in the past, and even though they knew he would spend it with Fleur and her family this year, the revelation was likely a shock, especially for Ron and Ginny, who wouldn't see him on that day.
"Are you sure?" Hermione hesitated to accept the invitation, aware that Harry still needed time with Fleur and her family. He needed the space to get to know them and become more comfortable in their company, and Hermione felt she might just be in the way of that process.
"Absolutely, Hermione. My parents like yours very much, and we would all be very happy if you would join us," Fleur reassured her.
Encouragement came unexpectedly from Ron, who spoke up with surprising earnestness, "You should go, Hermione. You've never spent a Christmas with Harry before—well, except last year, and then we were all preoccupied with the ball and everything that went with it."
Harry quickly voiced his agreement, and Hermione couldn't help but smile at both Ron and Harry, even as a twinge of guilt settled within her. She had almost anticipated Ron's jealousy at her being invited to spend the holidays with Harry, but he surprised her with his support. Hermione realized that Ron had shown remarkable improvement in the past few months, and she resolved to give him more credit in the future.
"But wouldn't you like to have Harry alone for the holidays?" Hermione made one last feeble attempt. "He's joining your family, after all."
Fleur's response was warm and understanding, "Hermione, Harry is already part of our family. Having you there would only make it merrier. Please, come with us."
Laughing, Fleur playfully replied, "Actually, I think it's more accurate to say that I am joining his family. But Harry and I have come a long way," she continued, sharing a smile with Harry as she took his hand, "and I think we can manage the distraction you would be."
Pretending to be affronted, Hermione shot a glare at her friend. "In that case, I don't see how I could not serve as your… distraction."
Laughter echoed around the table, and Hermione smirked at a now good-natured Fleur. "I will have to ask my parents, of course."
"Of course," Fleur responded graciously.
"I'm glad you are considering it, Hermione," Harry said with a warm smile, causing a sudden flutter of butterflies in Hermione's stomach. Harry, oblivious to the potent effect of his smiles on the girls at Hogwarts, and particularly on Hermione, would likely cease smiling altogether if he ever realized the impact. She couldn't help but fear that if he ever discovered how his smiles affected her, she might not survive the experience.
The task of organizing Hermione's parents' visit was successfully accomplished, and the awaited response arrived in a letter delivered by the trustworthy and ever-dependable Hedwig. Harry had willingly offered the services of his loyal owl for this important mission. The letter bore the joyful news that Hermione's parents were delighted to accept the invitation, setting the stage for what promised to be an enchanting Christmas celebration. Hermione couldn't help but anticipate the upcoming holiday with great excitement—a Christmas spent in the company of her parents, her best friend, and her closest girlfriend. The prospect of such a gathering filled her with warmth and happiness.
As the Yule Ball continued to unfold in all its grandeur, Harry found himself sinking into one of the plush chairs, grateful for the momentary respite. The magical event had been in full swing for several hours, and Harry had surprised himself by partaking in nearly every dance with a myriad of friends. Contrary to his expectations, he discovered immense enjoyment in the festivities. Reflecting on his previous experience at a ball, where he had been thrust into an uncomfortable situation, Harry marveled at the stark difference. Choosing his dance partners and not being the center of attention had worked wonders for his overall experience.
Having spent the bulk of the evening in the delightful company of Hermione and Fleur, Harry felt a sense of contentment wash over him as the two ladies excused themselves to refresh. The ballroom buzzed with merriment, and Harry embraced the momentary break, relishing the opportunity to rest and catch his breath. The music and laughter of the Yule Ball provided a backdrop to his reflections, and he couldn't help but marvel at the magical turn of events that had transformed a seemingly ordinary night into an extraordinary one.
"Well, look who's decided to grace us with their presence," Ron quipped with a good-natured smirk, leaning casually against the table they had commandeered. The group of friends had gathered there whenever they weren't on the dance floor, creating a hub of laughter and camaraderie. Alongside Ron, one of the twins lounged in a chair, the other presumably lost in the sea of dancers. Tracey, Ginny, Susan, and several other club members occupied nearby tables, creating a lively atmosphere.
"I had no idea you were a dancing aficionado, Harry," Ron continued, his tone teasing. "I don't think you've taken a seat all night."
"Not much," Harry replied, his fatigue tinged with a sense of camaraderie as he settled into the company of his friends. "I've been quite the sought-after dance partner tonight."
Tracey rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. "With comments like that, it's no wonder most of my house thinks you've got an oversized ego."
Raising his glass in a mock salute, Harry took a swig of his drink before placing it back on the table. "Well, most of your house hasn't bothered to scratch the surface. I'm actually quite amiable and rather dashing when you get to know me." His words were accompanied by a self-assured grin, and he soaked in the playful banter that surrounded him, relishing the warmth of friendship in the midst of the festive ambiance.
Another exaggerated snort and an eye-roll were the only responses Harry elicited from Tracey, who seemed content to let his playful banter slide off her. Undeterred, he waggled his eyebrows and flashed a teasing grin at her. Harry couldn't help but notice that, when Tracey put effort into her appearance, she had a certain allure. It was a fleeting thought, as he suspected she cared little for the opinions of others. Perhaps part of her indifference stemmed from the acknowledgment that she could never match the physical beauty of her closest friend, Daphne, who was undeniably a stunning girl.
With a chuckle, Harry observed that he wasn't the only one who had taken notice of Daphne's beauty. From the moment Ron set eyes on her that evening, he appeared utterly captivated, unable to tear his gaze away. Predictably, Ron's attempts to get to know Daphne better had been met with polite rebuffs, though Harry couldn't help but notice the secret smile that played on her lips at the effect she had on him. While they had shared a couple of dances, Harry wasn't willing to bet on a budding romance between the two. Daphne exuded refinement, and Ron, despite making strides, still retained a rough-around-the-edges charm that might persist indefinitely, Harry thought affectionately.
Interrupting his musings, one of the twins at the table spoke up, "Your vision in blue returns," drawing Harry's attention to Hermione and Fleur, who were gracefully navigating their way around the edges of the room. Once again struck by their loveliness, Harry was reminded of his initial awe upon seeing them earlier in the evening.
Harry fidgeted in the Gryffindor common room, tugging at the collar of his shirt in a futile attempt to alleviate the discomfort. He couldn't fathom how a garment worn for centuries could be so confining, especially when paired with the obligatory black bowtie, a seemingly indispensable accessory to the suit he was donning. His attire, an upgrade from the previous year, boasted a finer cut and superior material. Clad in the familiar black trousers and jacket, he completed the ensemble with a long wizard's cape. The only deviation from the sea of black was the smart royal blue waistcoat, a sartorial choice insisted upon by Fleur. He couldn't bring himself to argue with his betrothed, especially when she claimed it would complement her ball dress.
Ron stood beside him, thankfully adorned in a set of black robes that were a significant improvement from the previous year's fashion faux pas. The rest of their friends were similarly attired in formal wear. However, the girls had yet to make their appearance, and Harry, while understanding the effort they put into their appearance, privately appreciated that he, as a male, didn't have to contend with the intricacies of makeup and other such preparations. It not only enhanced the overall charm of the fairer sex but also spared him from the ordeal of such meticulous grooming.
After a considerable wait, lounging in the common room and engaging in small talk, Neville, growing visibly impatient, rose from his chair. "I'm heading to the Ravenclaw common room to meet Luna. I'll catch up with you all at the hall." The announcement marked the departure of one of their own, leaving the rest to linger in anticipation of the grand evening that awaited them.
As Neville made his exit with a declaration delivered with commendable composure, he couldn't have missed the snickers and knowing looks that followed him out of the room. The shy Gryffindor had been steadily gaining confidence, and his burgeoning interest in the whimsical Ravenclaw hadn't escaped the notice of their friends. The subtle signals of budding romance were a source of amusement for those left behind.
A noise on the stairs drew Harry's attention, and he looked up to see Angelina descending with Alicia and Katie in tow. Adorned in their elegant dresses, they looked stunningly pretty. However, Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that it wasn't Fleur descending the stairs.
Noticing his reaction, Angelina flashed him a cheerful smile. "Don't worry, Harry; she's almost ready."
"Shall we stick around and witness the spectacle of his eyes popping out of his head when she comes down?" Katie suggested in a conspiratorial stage whisper.
Laughter rippled through the group, and Harry shot her a stern glare, though it did little to quell her amusement. "Of course," Alicia chimed in, suppressing giggles. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."
In the next few moments, more Gryffindor girls descended the stairs, each dressed to the nines and looking absolutely stunning. Despite the array of beauties surrounding him, Harry's gaze was fixated on one girl. It was only a matter of moments before she made her entrance into the common room. Despite his anticipation, the sight of her almost rendered him speechless with awe.
If Fleur had been radiant the previous year in her silver dress, this year she was nothing short of breathtaking in her sky-blue gown. The color perfectly accentuated her fair skin and flowing blond hair. The dress, modest yet daring, boasted just one strap over her left shoulder, fitting snugly around her bust. Gently gathered at the waist, it cascaded down in pleated waves around her legs. A matching wrap, the same shade as Harry's royal blue waistcoat, was draped over her shoulders. Her hair was intricately piled on top of her head, and as she moved, the earrings in her ears chimed. In a word, she was beautiful.
As Fleur graciously stepped aside, making way for Hermione's entrance, Harry felt the air leave his lungs once again. The year of growth and maturity had worked wonders for Hermione's appearance. While she had looked pretty in her blue dress the previous year, this time she was nothing short of amazing. Her midnight-blue gown, cut in an elegant empire style, had the waist just below her breasts, allowing the fabric to flow gracefully down her body in straight waves. The dress hung down to her ankles, shimmering in the light. Unlike the previous year, Hermione had gathered her hair into a knot at the base of her neck, allowing it to fall freely down her back. She looked enchanting, and in a distracted moment, Harry noticed that her dress also complemented his royal blue waistcoat beautifully.
"Oh, Fleur, I think you broke him," Hermione remarked in a hushed tone as they approached Harry. They were near enough that Harry doubted the rest of the room had caught her comment, but the evident snickers around them indicated that his reaction hadn't gone unnoticed.
"We broke him," Fleur replied, her voice laced with smug satisfaction.
Hermione swatted playfully at Fleur before turning her attention back to Harry, meeting his eyes. While he got the sense that Fleur intended for him to appreciate both of them and was undeterred by his admiration for Hermione, rational thoughts eluded him in the brilliance of the two enchantresses standing before him.
Almost instinctively, Harry moved forward, taking Fleur's hands in his own. Leaning in, he kissed her, the action surprising even himself. The Harry of the past would never have been so openly emotional.
"You look wonderful, my dear," he murmured as his lips brushed hers. "You'll be the most beautiful girl at the ball."
To Harry's surprise, the typically confident and self-assured Fleur blushed, her cheeks and neck immediately blooming with a rosy hue. Shyly returning his gaze, she murmured her thanks, leaving Harry to wonder just how far down her blush extended. Shaking his head mentally to dispel that random thought, he returned her smile. Regardless of his reactions or feelings, he reminded himself that Fleur was a wonderful girl who deserved his respect, and entertaining such thoughts was not respectful, at least not at this point in their relationship.
Turning his attention to Hermione, who had watched their display with amusement, Harry drew her forward and kissed her cheek. "I'm amazed at how much more beautiful you become every year, Hermione."
In response, Hermione's cheeks mirrored Fleur's blush, and though words seemed to elude her, her brilliant smile more than compensated.
Grabbing the two boxes that had been placed beside him on the chair, Harry tuned into the murmur of other students in the room. Comments like "How romantic!" and "When did our Harry become such a charmer?" echoed around him. Normally, he might have been reluctant to be in the spotlight, but at this moment, he simply didn't care. The joy and admiration of his friends, combined with the enchanting company he found himself in, outweighed any reservations he might have had about being the center of attention.
Harry carefully pulled out the corsages, grateful for the stasis charm placed on them by the kind witch at the shop to keep them fresh. He fastened one on Fleur's wrist and the other on Hermione's. Setting the boxes aside, he smiled at the girls and extended one arm to each, saying, "Shall we?"
Exiting the room with their friends in tow, they made their way down the stairways toward the Great Hall. Harry took this opportunity to clear his head of the muddled thoughts and tried to adopt a more confident demeanor. After all, he didn't want to appear in the hall like a slobbering baboon.
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