Who schedules a Quidditch match in the middle of December? Harry thought bitterly to himself as he trudged through the snow banks towards the pitch for his first match of the year. He did not envy Professor McGonagall's decision-making process, of course – she had to plan a schedule for all eight of the teams that had signed up, while also working around the Triwizard Tournament timetable. That meant a few games would have to be played in harsh wintry conditions, including this one.
Very few people showed up to watch as a result, which was fine by him. It was probably due as much to the lopsided match-up, pairing a bunch of upperclassmen with mostly second- and third-years, and also because the weekend before had featured Krum's team demolishing a Beauxbatons squad, with many students wanting to see the superstar Seeker in person.
"Warming Charms, everyone!" Angelina barked to the team as they went through their pregame warm-ups. "Let's take this win quickly so we can get back inside!"
Harry liked her confidence, and it was not ill-founded as he assessed the team pouring out of the tunnel towards the opposite end of the pitch. He recognized Ginny Weasley and Demelza Robins at Chaser, along with Damian Dursley and another uncoordinated-looking second year a Beater. Half of the team looked like they could barely stay upright on a broom, perhaps not realizing what they'd been signing up for without having played in a real match before.
"At this point, it'd be unethical to hit anyone other than our sister," Harry heard Fred remark to George as they zoomed by.
"Don't underestimate Damian," Harry called back. "He can give as good as he gets." They nodded their understanding as the two teams converged on center field to begin the match.
Madam Hooch walked out onto the pitch carrying the ball box, looking very much like this was not how she wanted to spend her Saturday. She blew her whistle and released the Quaffle, signaling the start of the match.
Harry thought the match might as well have been called within the first five minutes. Katie, Angelina and Alicia met very little resistance with their offense, carving through the patchwork defense of the opposition and racking up a 40-0 lead in the blink of an eye. Ginny and Demelza put up a valiant fight, and Damian placed a few solid Bludger hits that nearly did some damage, but Fred and George zeroed in on those three targets early and effectively neutralized the entire team.
Harry kept his focus on the enemy Seeker, a third-year Slytherin girl he didn't recognize. He didn't want to underestimate her, though – just because she lacked the financial influence of Draco Malfoy to make her House team didn't mean she couldn't play. She proved to be a decent flier, keeping up with Harry on his school broom and managing to avoid falling for any of his elaborate feint attempts.
But in the end, Harry's size, reflexes, and experience proved too much for her to handle. The first Snitch appeared near Volkov's goal posts, with Harry snatching it before the poor girl even realized it was there; the second was a decent foot race across the pitch, but Harry managed to box the opponent out and prevent her from getting too close before he plucked it out of the air as well.
Harry almost felt bad by the time he spotted the third Snitch, considering letting the enemy have one moral victory considering the 190-0 hole they were in. He waited five full seconds to give the other Seeker a chance to spot it, but when she didn't, he dove after it and brought the match to a merciful end.
"Good game," said Harry as he descended towards the pitch alongside his opponent. "You're a solid flyer. Just gotta sharpen those instincts to spot the Snitch earlier."
"Thanks," the girl smiled sadly. "I'm much better at Beater, but we couldn't find anyone else to play Seeker."
"Ah," said Harry. "Well, good effort then." They both landed and shook hands before going their separate ways.
Damian landed soon after, looking utterly dejected. "Chin up, cousin," Harry called out to him. "You played well today. Just an unlucky first match-up."
"Yeah yeah, spare me the sympathy," Damian scoffed. "I can take a beating on the chin. Just know that I'll punch back twice as harder next time."
"Wouldn't expect anything less," Harry grinned.
"Yo, Dursley!" called out Fred Weasley as he and George landed beside them. "You plan on trying out for Hufflepuff next year?"
"Yeah," Damian shrugged. "What of it?"
"Keep playing like that and you'll be a menace to the other houses for the next five years," said George with a mock salute.
"Thank Merlin we're graduating next year, eh, Georgie?" Fred grinned. "Poor Harry here has to worry about dodging his Bludgers for three more years!"
"Are you taking the mickey?" Damian frowned, as though unsure if the twins were mocking him.
"Don't mind these two," Harry laughed, slinging an arm over his cousin's shoulders. "They're just thankful there aren't two of you, because they only stand a chance against you two-on-one."
"I could always call up my brother Dudley, if you want to settle things the Muggle way," Damian said coldly, clearly still not understanding the joke.
But to Harry's surprise, Fred and George roared with laughter at this. "I like your cousin, Potter!" said Fred. "Joking aside, mate, you're really good. If you ever need some pointers, feel free to ask."
"Erm...alright, thanks," Damian said warily, turning to rejoin his squad.
The rest of Harry's team landed soon after, and they made their way to the locker rooms, laughing and discussing their dominant play in the match. After a quick change, they headed up the hill towards the castle, with conversation shifting to another, more exciting topic (for some)…
"Have you picked your dress out for the Yule Ball yet, Spinnet?" asked Angelina.
"Last Hogsmeade weekend," Alicia beamed. "Gold with red trim, to match Fred's robes."
"Ah, I was hoping to go in gold," Angelina sighed. "Well, I do have a nice powder-blue dress at home as an option...I can channel my inner Ravenclaw." She winked at Harry with this.
"What about you, Katie?" asked Alicia, turning to the shortest of the three girls.
"Oh, just an old hand-me-down dress from my mum," Katie smiled sadly. "Not that I have to worry about impressing anyone."
"C'mon, Potter, let's escape before we get sucked into the girl talk," George said loudly, playfully grabbing Harry by the arm to whisk him away. But Harry was confused by Katie's words.
"What d'you mean, Katie?" he asked. "Don't you have a date?"
"Nobody asked me," Katie shrugged indifferently. "I'm just going to tag along with these four – should be good fun all the same."
"There's still time," Angelina said encouragingly. "Plenty of blokes are still scrambling for dates...you'll get asked."
"Unlikely," Katie scoffed. "I'm too much of a tomboy and a Quidditch nut for anyone to come near me."
"I'll go with you," Harry blurted out quite suddenly. All eyes turned to him.
"Thanks, Potter, but I don't need a pity date," Katie smiled sadly.
"It's not out of pity," Harry said seriously, turning to face her fully. "I don't have a date yet, and I'd love to take you."
How had he not thought of this before? He knew Katie quite well from his previous timeline and always enjoyed her company, but for some reason never considered taking her to the Ball. She was sporty and didn't put a ton of effort into her appearance, but she was unpretentious and drama-free, which was exactly what Harry was interested in right now. The last thing he needed was a repeat of last year's Cho/Hermione snafu, and he could see himself having a great time with Katie.
"You don't want me as your date," Katie said, suddenly looking self-conscious. "I have two left feet, and I'll just embarrass you in front of the other Champions. Besides, there's plenty of prettier girls who would love to go with you."
"You're rather pretty yourself," Harry said honestly. "And I'm also a horrid dancer. We can suffer through it together, then laugh it off with these four afterwards. So what do you say?"
Katie looked stunned by his proposal. Angelina, Alicia and the twins stood off to one side, trying desperately to hide their obvious delight at this turn of events.
"Erm...yes, alright then," she said breathlessly. "I'll go with you, Harry."
"Really? Great!" Harry beamed. "I'll uh, see you there?"
"Okay!" Katie smiled back. Angelina and Alicia swiftly grabbed her arms and whisked her away into the castle, and the delighted giggling Harry heard as they departed told him that he'd made a good decision.
"Well done, mate," said Fred, slapping Harry on the back. "We've been trying to set Katie up with blokes for months."
"Yeah, you two ought to be good for each other," George agreed heartily. Then, his voice dropped to something darker and more intimidating. "But if you ever take advantage of her—"
"Or hurt her in any way—" Fred added menacingly.
"We'll make sure you regret it," George finished sternly.
"Of course I wouldn't!" Harry said quickly. "I like Katie. And I meant it when I said it wasn't out of pity."
"We know," Fred grinned. "You're a good bloke, Harry, even if our dearest little brother is convinced otherwise."
Harry grimaced at this. It was a shame to see Ron so dead-set against him in both timelines during the Tournament, though in this case it made a bit more sense, given that Harry was his best friend's opponent. How ironic that Harry's main support system seemed to be the Gryffindors once again, given that even his own House had largely turned against him!
But it was a massive relief to have his date sorted for the Ball, and he no longer had to invent an excuse for the increasingly-desperate girls who approached him in the final days before Christmas break began. He received a package in the mail from Sirius a few days later, containing a set of very fine dress robes, far nicer than he'd been expecting to wear. As Sirius had put it in his accompanying letter, 'No godson of mine is taking a beautiful witch to the dance without looking his absolute best!'
The Hogwarts Express arrived soon after to whisk away the first batch of students who would not be attending the Ball. Harry planned to take the second train home, on Boxing Day, to enjoy at least one week of his vacation with family before classes resumed in January. The lack of homework and the departure of many of his House mates actually increased his nerves, as he had little to distract him from the prospect of what he now realized might, in fact, be his first date with a girl in this timeline.
Did we say it was a date? Harry wondered, thinking back to his invitation and what he and Katie had actually said to each other. Does she expect it to be a date? Or are we just going as friends? Such questions weighed heavily on his mind as Christmas Day loomed large. He considered writing to Sirius and asking for advice, but didn't think the owl would reach him in time given poor weather conditions. He would just have to improvise and read the situation as best he could in the moment.
But that's what good teammates do anyway, isn't it? Harry figured. He and Katie were already somewhat accomplished in reading one another and responding to each other's cues. So what if the situation was a dance rather than a Quidditch match? It doesn't have to be a big deal if we don't make it one. There's nothing to be nervous about.
Easier said than done, of course. Harry awoke on Christmas morning feeling somewhat nervous, walking down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Students were grouped up according to family rather than by House, so Harry sauntered over towards the Gryffindor table in search of his sister. Ginny was with her brothers and Astoria was with her sister at the Slytherin table, so he expected to find Dahlia alone.
But to his surprise, she wasn't at the Gryffindor table at all. She was over at the Ravenclaw table, talking to two Beauxbatons seventh-year girls, one of whom happened to be Fleur Delacour. "Merry Christmas," he said to announce himself, somewhat confused.
The three girls looked up at him. Fleur looked as though an unpleasant aroma had wafted into the room, grabbing her friend and standing to leave. Dahlia gave a dejected sigh as Harry sat across from her.
"Must you always be a repellent for all the cool people who want to talk to me?" she lamented.
"Sorry," Harry shrugged. "Not exactly my fault though, is it?"
"I know," Dahlia groaned. "Merry Christmas, idiot."
"What were you talking to Fleur about?" Harry asked. "Not gathering intel about the next Task, I presume?"
"As if," Dahlia scoffed. "I was talking to her friend Isabelle, actually. She's studying to become a Healer at Beauxbatons and was giving me career pointers."
"I see," said Harry. "How's your apprenticeship going?"
"It's fascinating, really," said Dahlia, reaching for a jug of syrup to add to her French toast. "I've learned a lot already. Plus, the Tournament gives me tons of opportunity for hands-on experience. That's hard to get in peace times, according to Madam Pomfrey."
Hopefully the peace times continue for a bit longer, Harry thought morosely. If things didn't go according to plan, Dahlia might be thrust into more hands-on situations than anticipated…
Then to Harry's surprise, Damian waltzed up to join them at the table. "Morning, cousins," he announced, pulling plates of food towards him.
"Morning," said Harry, giving Dahlia a scathing look as she rolled her eyes at the new arrival. "Why are you still at the castle, Damian? You aren't old enough to attend the Ball."
"Thanks; I hadn't noticed," Damian grumbled. "Mum and Dad took Dudley to some wrestling tournament in Bristol. I'm stuck here until tomorrow whether I like it or not."
"Well, at least you have family here on Christmas," said Harry. "We can do something this afternoon...until the Ball, of course."
"Who are you taking, anyway?" Dahlia demanded of her brother. "Or did you give up and accept that you'll be alone forever?"
"Har, har," Harry said dryly. "I'm going with Katie Bell."
He waited a few seconds for Dahlia to laugh at this idea or mock him for his repeated rejections again. "Huh," she said instead, taking another bite of toast.
"That's it?" Harry demanded. "No snarky remarks about how I'll ruin it somehow, or how she can do better?"
"Nope," Dahlia shrugged. "Katie's a good person. I think it's a good match." That surprised Harry: his sister was always the first to take pleasure in his relationship woes, but it was nice to hear her being supportive for once.
"Well, I can't say I'm thrilled you're going with Neville," Harry sighed. "If I see him get out of line, or disrespect you in any way—"
"Oh please, I can take care of myself," Dahlia huffed. "I doubt he'd try anything funny, but if he does, he'll be walking bow-legged for a week." Harry chuckled at this image, feeling marginally better about the pairing than before.
The post arrived soon after, and Harry and Dahlia tore open a package addressed to the both of them. It contained a box of sweets from their mother, which they split evenly with Damian (or rather, watched as he wolfed half of it down by himself). Sirius and Remus also sent gifts to each of them: a nice silver ring and Italian leather trousers for Harry; and a set of golden bangles and a book on hypnotherapy for Dahlia. Harry felt a bit bad for Damian, noticing that the boy had received nothing from his family...hopefully he would still have Christmas gifts waiting for him back home tomorrow.
Harry taught Damian how to play Exploding Snap in an empty classroom until Peeves the Poltergeist arrived to unscrew the chandelier, forcing them to evacuate before Filch could arrive and blame them on it. They then went their separate ways as preparations for the Yule Ball began. Harry changed into the dress robes Sirius gave him, which magically adjusted to fit his form perfectly.
"Damn, Potter, you look like a grown-up in those," remarked Anthony Goldstein as his dorm mates all changed into their own nice robes.
"Thanks," Harry shrugged. In truth, he did look older than his physical age – the Ritual of Ontogenesis had indeed accelerated him into his growth spurt, making him look more mature than he had in either timeline. He had felt a bit self-conscious about taking an older girl to the dance – Katie was already sixteen, after all – but considering that he was mentally older than her, and now looked the part, he felt far more confident.
Still, he found himself fidgeting nervously at the foot of the Grand Staircase an hour later, along with many other students waiting for their dates to arrive. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs had already arrived en masse, as it seemed only the Gryffindors were yet to descend from their tower. Harry watched as more and more students paired up and headed into the Great Hall.
Finally, the Gryffindors began to trickle down the stairs. Harry spotted his sister, wearing a modest green dress, her normally-wild mane of hair tamed into long black curls. She met Harry's eye and gave him a small smile and wave before approaching a slack-jawed Neville and taking his arm. The Weasley twins sauntered down the steps in style, wearing matching red pinstripe suits and greeting Harry with jumping high-fives.
The three Chasers arrived soon after, and Harry found himself staring in surprise at his own date. Katie normally wore rather unflattering, sporty attire, but the strapless gown she now wore really accentuated her impressively toned figure. Her hair, normally short and pulled back in a bun, seemed to have been magically lengthened, spilling in graceful waves over her bare shoulders. She spotted Harry and gave him a shy smile as she descended towards him.
"Hi, Harry," she greeted him. "Nice robes."
"Oh, thanks," Harry muttered. "You look...erm, wow…"
"It's too much, isn't it?" Katie groaned, feeling her hair self-consciously. "I knew it was over-the-top, but Angie and Alicia convinced me—"
"No!" Harry said quickly. "It's not too much. You look...absolutely stunning."
"Really?" said Katie, blushing slightly at the compliment. "Thanks! Shall we?"
"Let's," said Harry, extending an arm to guide her towards the Great Hall. Fred and George were performing some elaborate bow to the other two girls, who groaned loudly but nonetheless look pleased by the display, following Harry and Katie towards the entrance.
Professor McGonagall was waiting for them as they neared the great oak doors. "Potter, Bell, good to see you this evening," she said, giving them an appraising look that told Harry she approved of the pairing. "You will enter last with the other Champions. Please wait over here."
McGonagall directed them to a small alcove to the side of the room, where the other Champions and their dates were already waiting. Neville pointedly avoided Harry's eye, while Krum gave him a small nod of acknowledgment and Hermione mouthed "Hi, Harry!" at his side. Fleur Delacour's date, on the other hand, was not so subtle.
"Well, if it isn't the False Champion," sneered Roger Davies. "And what's this? Fraternizing with an opponent, are you?"
"I wasn't given much choice in allies this year," Harry said smoothly. "At least I chose someone from my own school."
Roger narrowed his eyes at this jab, as Fleur coolly ignored the two of them. Harry wondered what she had seen in Roger to decide to accompany him – he was handsome, sure, but just as blustering and boastful as every other moon-faced male who had succumbed to her Veela charms over the past few months.
"Hi, Katie," Dahlia greeted her House-mate. "I love your dress."
"Thanks, Dahlia!" Katie grinned. "Who did your hair like that?"
"My mum taught me how," Dahlia grinned. "Took a bit of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, but I've had loads of practice; it was invented by my grandfather after all—"
"It was?!" Hermione gasped, putting a hand to her own straightened hair. "I had no idea! I had to use nearly half a bottle of the stuff to get mine under control."
"Once you learn how to use it, you won't need as much," Dahlia told her. "It's all about the application process. First you have to—" But before she could mentor Hermione on proper hair-care routine, McGonagall approached the small group.
"Champions, line up with your partners and follow me," she instructed. She led the way into the Great Hall, and Harry marveled once more at the room's transformation into an extravagant winter wonderland. Students clapped politely as the Champions and their dates made their way up to the High Table. Harry pulled out Katie's chair for her to sit, as Neville did the same for Dahlia to his left. You'd better be a perfect gentleman to my sister tonight, Harry grumbled internally. If I see you step one foot out of line…
But he had to admit that his sister looked quite pleased to be accompanying Neville. He tried his best not to listen in as she praised his inventive strategy to defeat the dragon in the First Task, and described her Healer training program with Madam Pomfrey. Once he was confident that Neville was not about to bad-mouth him or try anything stupid, Harry turned his attention back to his own date.
"What sounds good for dinner?" he asked Katie as the others stared, confused, at their empty plates.
"Erm...I don't know," Katie frowned. "I didn't see a menu…"
Harry grinned and cleared his throat. "Beef Wellington!" he announced clearly, and a second later, the dish appeared before him, steaming hot and ready to eat. The other Champions and their dates stared, bewildered.
"How did you know to do that?" Katie asked, wide-eyed.
"I'm full of surprises," Harry winked, digging into his meal. "What strikes your fancy?"
Katie grinned as she thought about her own options. "Caesar salad!" she eventually decided, and the leafy greens appeared on her plate, eliciting a laugh of delight. This empowered the others to order their own meals, as Dumbledore watched on with a twinkle in his eye, winking at Harry, who shrugged modestly in return.
Harry knew this was a prime opportunity to converse with the other school Champions, as it was rare for them to all be together without having to compete against one another. "So Viktor, are you on leave with your pro Quidditch team while you're here for the Tournament?" he asked Krum.
"Da," Krum affirmed. "They know I am still a student and vill not be playing full-time until I graduate. I vill play first full season next fall."
"I saw you at the World Cup last summer," said Harry. "Brilliant flying, mate. I hope I get a chance to face you in the scrimmage league before you leave."
"Not if we get to him first!" sneered Roger Davies from down the row. "We're in the semis against your squad, Potter! Luckily we have the best Seeker at Hogwarts, and we'll wipe the floor with you before Diggory gets his rightful shot at Krum."
"We'll see," Harry shrugged modestly. "It's all in good fun, isn't it? May the best team win."
"I 'ope you can fly better zan you can run," Fleur scoffed at Harry. "I 'eard ze Short-Snout burned your entire back in ze First Task."
"He wasn't the only one to catch fire, though, was he?" Dahlia piped in, glaring down the table at the French witch. Harry smiled internally at the way Fleur wilted under the remark from his sister.
"You have a lovely singing voice by the way, Fleur," Harry added sincerely. Fleur's eyes narrowed, first in anger and then in confusion at Harry's innocuous remark. She eventually decided that it was not worth responding to, so she merely gave a haughty hmph and turned away from him. Not an ideal first attempt at diplomacy, Harry groaned internally.
But he wouldn't press the issue further tonight, as he didn't want to give Katie the impression that he was neglecting her. They chatted about Quidditch for the remainder of the dinner, careful not to give any specific strategy away to two potential future opponents but excitedly recounting their previous victory and team synergy. Katie was eager to hear about the World Cup, which she'd been unable to attend, and Harry excitedly recounted it for her, well aware that Krum was within earshot and hearing every word of praise he heaped on the Bulgarian.
The dinner flew by, and far too soon for Harry's liking, Dumbledore stood to clear the dance floor and beckoned the Champions and their dates onto it. Harry took Katie's hand and led her out to the center, flanked by the others on either side. He turned to face Katie and saw that she looked equally terrified about the prospect of dancing. To his surprise, this calmed him, and he gave her a reassuring smile.
"If one of us falls, the twins will never let us hear the end of it," he whispered in her ear. She giggled at the thought, her tension relaxing somewhat at his quip. He took her hand in his and rested his other on her hip as they waited for the music to begin.
The Weird Sisters took the stage and struck up a slow ballad, and the Champions began to dance. Harry and Katie got off to a clumsy start, taking time to get in sync, but eventually managed to find a rhythm of shuffling forward, back, and to either side. Neither of them knew much about dancing, but both were trained athletes with good coordination, which helped offset the awkwardness. Once he was certain they were not seconds away from tumbling to the ground, Harry smiled reassuringly at Katie and managed to enjoy the slow dance as they wove in between the other pairs.
Soon Dumbledore took Madame Maxime's hand and led her onto the dance floor, which invited the other students to follow suit. Harry was relieved to no longer be the center of attention, as he and Katie now shifted their focus into not bumping into any of the other students, whom he was pleased to see were not all that coordinated themselves.
"We don't have to dance the whole time, if you don't want to," Harry said as the Weird Sisters switched to a slightly more upbeat tune.
"It's okay, I'm having fun," Katie shrugged. "You?"
"Me too," Harry grinned. So they continued to waltz in their own improvised rhythm, relaxing more and more with each passing song. Harry even felt bold enough to add some variety to their routine, twirling Katie around in a spin before pulling her back in, causing her to laugh delightedly at the stunt. Harry only tripped and lost his balance once, and quickly realized it was no accident as George Weasley brushed by with Angelina, grinning mischievously at him.
Suddenly, Katie screamed excitedly as the Weird Sisters transitioned into a song Harry did not recognize. "This one is for the ladies only!" the lead singer announced into the microphone. "Come on forward, you wonderful witches!"
"Do you mind, Harry?" asked Katie. "This is our favorite song!"
"Go for it," Harry chuckled, bemused, as Katie ran forward to grab Angelina and Alicia's hands and rush the stage. Harry joined the Weasley twins and all the other bewildered males, making their way towards the side tables as their dates danced and sang along to the anthem that had united them.
"Having fun, Potter?" Fred smirked as they plopped into chairs around the perimeter of the dance floor.
"Yeah, loads!" Harry grinned. And he meant it: he hadn't expected to enjoy the Ball as much as he was. Katie was easy company to keep, and he felt free to just be himself and let loose for a change after such a stressful term.
"Katie seems to be enjoying herself, too," George remarked, glancing at the girls jumping and dancing to the Weird Sisters nearby. "Looks like we don't have to hex you yet."
"Not that we ever doubted you," Fred winked. "After that show you put on with the dragon, we figured a little school dance shouldn't be too much trouble for you."
"How's your clue coming along for the Second Task?" asked George. "Got it figured out yet?"
"Yeah, just about," Harry said. "Why're you two so interested all of a sudden?"
The twins looked around them momentarily to see if anyone was listening, then leaned in close. "We stand to win quite a bit of money if you win the Tournament," said George.
"You or Neville," Fred corrected.
"What, did you place a bet on me or something?" asked Harry, alarmed.
"Quite the contrary," said George. "We're taking bets, you see, and nearly everyone's bet on Krum or the Beauxbatons girl. Even at very generous odds we only got a couple of takers for you two, so we won't have to pay out very much if it's a Hogwarts victory."
"I see," said Harry. "Well, I appreciate the support, I guess. I'm more interested in surviving the Tournament than winning it."
"Understandable," Fred grinned. "If there's anything we can do to help, say the word."
"Will do," Harry nodded. Then, inspiration struck: "Actually, there is something you can do."
"What's that?" asked George eagerly.
"Tell Neville to put his egg underwater," said Harry. "Only, don't tell him it came from me. I don't think he trusts me much right now."
"We can do that," Fred nodded. Then, frowning, he said, "Unless this is some kind of sabotage to destroy his clue?"
"The egg is speaking Mermish," Harry explained. "I want Neville to figure out the clue so he doesn't drown in the lake."
"Fair play," George grinned. "We'll drop him a hint or two. Leave it to us."
"He trusts us, though Merlin knows why," Fred winked. "We may have followed him around the castle in his second year declaring him the Heir of Slytherin."
Harry snorted with amusement at this image. He remembered the twins doing something similar in his original second year, and it had gone a long way towards lightening the tense mood around Hogwarts.
Just then, Katie, Angelina, and Alicia arrived from the dance floor, out of breath and giddy with excitement. The latter two flopped beside the twins, while Katie took the seat beside Harry. "My feet are killing me in these lifts!" Angelina complained, discarding the offending shoes with a sigh of relief.
"You could've done without them anyway," commented George. "I look two feet tall dancing next to you!"
"You do not," Angelina reprimanded him, swatting him playfully. "You look quite the distinguished gentleman on that dance floor, Mr. Weasley." That succeeded in getting a pleased grin out of George.
Harry took the opportunity to glance about the room and people-watch a little. Hermione was still dancing with Krum, looking quite pleased to be doing so, oblivious to the jealous glares of the girls all around her. Neville and Ron were seated at a table nearby, but Harry was glad to see Ron was not part of the Hermione hate club tonight. Instead he seemed to be chafing as Daphne adjusted his robes and reprimanded about something or other, but he still nonetheless looked pleased to be with his current date.
Harry's eyes also scanned the High Table, where much of the staff was seated and wearing their nicest attire. Moody was clearly inebriated thanks to whatever was in his hip flask, laughing jovially and chatting with Flitwick and McGonagall. Hagrid was eyeing Madame Maxime from afar, no doubt working up the courage to ask her to dance. Snape and Karkaroff sat at a far end of the table, engaged in hushed, urgent discussion – probably about their Dark Marks going haywire, Harry thought angrily.
He suddenly sensed that Katie had just asked him a question. "Sorry, what?" he said, turning his attention back to his date.
"I just asked if you wanted to keep dancing," she muttered. "But it's fine if you don't want to; I know you said—"
"I'd love to!" Harry grinned. "If you want to, of course."
"Sure!" Katie beamed. Harry stood and took her hand to lead her back out onto the dance floor. But before he could do so, they were accosted by the last person Harry wanted to encounter that evening.
"Ah, if it isn't the man of the hour!" a singsong voice called out that sent a chill down Harry's spine. He turned to see Rita Skeeter gliding over towards him, wearing a gaudy dress of bright purple, a glint of malice in her eyes betraying her otherwise-sweet disposition.
"Miss Skeeter," Harry greeted her with a false smile of his own. He wouldn't be losing his temper so publicly tonight. "I quite enjoyed your latest article. Your sources are keeping you well-misinformed."
"Oh, no need to be salty, dear," Rita smirked. "Your family may be quite adept at concealing its true colors, but the truth always comes out in the end."
"Yes, it does," Harry agreed, enunciating each word bitterly. Rita sneered, catching his drift but not acknowledging the implication.
"And who might you be, young lady?" Rita said, turning to smile at Katie.
"Katie Bell," Katie said warily, looking between Rita and Harry with mild concern.
"Delighted," Rita said, though her eyes suggested otherwise. "Harry here must have made quite the pitch to persuade you to accompany him tonight. Given his...shall we say...seedy reputation."
"Not everyone at Hogwarts reads the rubbish you put out in the Prophet," Katie frowned. "Harry's a good person, and I was happy to come with him."
"Don't engage with her," Harry sighed, attempting to steer Katie away from the conversation. "It'll only make things worse."
"But we're only just getting to know each other!" Rita smiled mischievously. "I'm sure the readers would love to learn more about the girl ensnared in the latest scheme by Hogwarts' false champion."
"If you write a single word about her," Harry growled, taking a step forward to get in Rita's face, "you'll regret it."
"I would never!" Rita smiled sweetly, showing no fear. "Write just a single word, that is."
"Come on, Harry, leave it," Katie groaned, and now she was the one steering Harry away. He was aware of the crowd that was watching the tense standoff, but he didn't care. He glared for a few seconds longer before tearing himself away from Rita and following Katie onto the dance floor.
"It should be illegal for her to do what she's doing to me and my family," Harry grumbled as the Weird Sisters struck up another tune.
"Agreed," said Katie. "But who cares what she has to say tomorrow? Let's just dance!" And she forcefully guided his hand back to her waist, resuming their improvised gait around the room. It was a more up-tempo song, forcing them to hasten their steps to keep up with the rhythm, and soon Harry's anger was forgotten in their mad dash about the floor. He and Katie laughed riotously as they struggled to stay in time, no longer self-conscious about anyone else watching in the slightest.
Harry had no idea how long he spent dancing with Katie, or how many songs the Weird Sisters cycled through. But soon he found himself swaying slowly to and fro to a slow ballad, the dance floor far less crowded than before – the night must be growing late as students trickled off to bed. Katie rested her head on Harry's shoulder, leaning into him as they danced, and Harry felt an odd swooping sort of sensation in his gut at the gesture.
A new form of nervousness was coming over him now, as he realized the Yule Ball was drawing to a close. What was the protocol for ending the night? What was he supposed to say to her? Was he supposed to escort her back to Gryffindor Tower? Was he supposed to...kiss her? The thought made him anxious as he swayed to the gentle beat, silently praying that the song would never end.
But he wouldn't get the opportunity to find out, as the quiet atmosphere was harshly interrupted by loud crackles and BANGS. Students flinched away from the center of the room as Harry, sensing danger, pulled Katie behind him in a defensive posture. But he found himself staring at his own cousin Damian, standing at the center of the dance floor, armfuls of fireworks at his disposal.
"FREE THE HOUSE-ELVES!" Damian bellowed. "UNSHACKLE THE SLAVES TRAPPED IN OUR BASEMENTS! DOWN WITH THE WIZARD HIERARCHY!"
Damian attempted to throw another handful of fireworks on the ground before he was roughly grabbed by Filch the caretaker, dragging him kicking and screaming from the room as the stunned crowd watched on. "I'd better go handle this," Harry said apologetically to Katie. "Sorry."
"I understand," said Katie quickly. And Harry hustled out to the Entrance Hall, where Filch was now physically blocking Damian from re-entering the Ball.
"You're not gettin' back in there, you little twerp!" Filch growled.
"You can't stop me, old man!" Damian said defiantly. "Or don't you care about how magical society mistreats those it deems inferior?"
"Mr. Dursley!" shrieked Professor Sprout, Damian's Head of House, exiting the Ball in her flowing gown looking quite cross. "This is unbecoming behavior from a Hufflepuff!"
"What do I care?" Damian scoffed. "This whole castle is complicit, I tell you, and I won't stand for it!"
"The Headmaster will be hearing about this, young man!" Sprout said angrily.
"Professor, let me," said Harry, stepping between his cousin and the adults. "Damian, let's go for a walk, shall we?"
Damian glared at Harry for a moment. "Fine," he spat, turning towards the exit and storming off.
"You'd best talk some sense into that cousin of yours, Potter," Sprout said warningly. "He's been warned not to step out of line too many times, and this could result in a suspension, or worse."
"I will, Professor," Harry promised, following Damian outside into the gardens. He found the boy petulantly kicking tree trunks, sending showers of snow into the nearby bushes (and drawing shrieks of surprise from the students lurking within).
"Come to lecture me on why I'm not acting like a 'proper Hogwarts student'?" Damian scoffed when he saw Harry approach.
"Nope," Harry shrugged. "Don't think I need to, since you already know it yourself."
Damian did not deny this. "I just don't understand how you can all be so blind," he said instead. "How you can just eat the food they prepare, sleep in the beds they clean for you…"
"It is unfair," Harry nodded. "And they should have a choice. But did you know the Hogwarts elves are offered pay and vacation time? And Dumbledore allows any of them to leave their contract with the school at any time, for any reason?"
Damian raised his eyebrows. "No, I didn't," he muttered. "But there are plenty of others that don't have that chance—"
"And that should change," Harry agreed. "But throwing a tantrum and ruining people's evenings isn't the way to convince them to change their minds."
"I know that," Damian sighed, kicking another tree in frustration. "Just sucks to feel so useless, ya know? Like, what else am I s'posed to do to help?"
"I hear you," Harry said. "But this isn't really about the house-elves, is it?"
"What're you on about?" Damian frowned.
"It's Christmas," Harry pointed out. "And your parents couldn't even be bothered to write you a letter. All your friends are either at home with their loved ones, or at a dance you weren't invited to. I imagine it's been a lonely evening."
Damian didn't respond immediately, but the way he angrily stared at his shoes told Harry he'd struck a nerve. "It's shite, you know, being stuck between two worlds," he finally grumbled. "You don't get it...your parents are magical. Mine just don't understand. I wish they would sometimes."
Harry did understand, oddly enough, what the Dursleys were like. Though unlike Damian, he did not care one bit about what Vernon and Petunia thought about Hogwarts, or him for that matter. How psychologically damaged might he have been in his prior timeline if he desperately craved their parental support? It only reaffirmed his decision to maintain a good relationship with his cousin now.
Harry stayed out in the snow with Damian for a long while, waiting patiently for the boy to cool off (literally and figuratively). "Tell you what," he eventually said. "I'll talk to my dad when I see him tomorrow. Ask him to work on bringing a bill to the Wizengamot floor on the matter."
"Really?" said Damian, surprised. "Why would you do that?"
"It's a good cause," Harry shrugged. "And you're right, it's long overdue. I'm sure he'll see reason."
Damian pondered this in silence while drawing a crude anatomical shape in the snow with his boot heel. "Right, well, I'm going to bed," he finally announced, turning to head back into the castle.
"Not yet, you're not," Harry shook his head. "First you're going back in there and apologizing to Professor Sprout. Then you're going to offer to clean the mess you made on the dance floor."
"Aw, come off it, Potter—" Damian whined.
"I mean it, Damian," Harry warned. "Sprout sounded like she was going to suspend you. Just please, take the high road this once and make it right."
Damian looked highly irritated by this, but he allowed Harry to escort him back into the Great Hall, where he muttered a terse apology to the Herbology professor. She allowed him to return to his common room with merely a fifteen point House deduction, giving Harry a grateful nod as the boy departed once more.
Harry turned to scan the nearly-empty room for Katie, but she was nowhere to be seen, nor were the twins and their dates. She must have gone to bed instead of waiting up, Harry realized. He would never find out what the proper protocol was for ending their night, and he found himself rather disappointed by that fact rather than relieved.
He made his way back up to Ravenclaw Tower alone, where his dorm mates were already asleep. He quickly changed and flopped onto his bed, exhausted but pleased with the night's events. He was vaguely concerned about the future, namely the fallout of Damian's outburst and Rita Skeeter's promises of further retribution in her next hit piece. He also planned to try and meet with Saul Croaker when he returned home for the half-holiday, anxious to speak to the man about all that had happened since the term began.
But for now, pleasant memories of the Yule Ball kept him content as he drifted off, the infectious sound of Katie's joyous laughter on the dance floor ringing in his ears and lulling him into a deep and restful sleep…
A/N: A couple of people correctly guessed Katie as Harry's date – I believe Bearsona09 was the first to do so! A few people also guessed Astoria Greengrass, and they get partial credit because that was actually my original plan when I started this fic. The idea was for Daphne to cash in the "favor" Harry owed her to take Astoria so she could attend the Ball with her friends, with a relationship forming from there. I ended up scrapping that plan because the age disparity was too hard to reconcile with Harry's recent growth (even though Astoria is only 13 months younger in this fic). You might have noticed loose strands of that intended storyline scattered through the first half of this fic, so good eye to those of you who picked up on it!