Chapter 58: Ball, part 1
"I can't believe this is our last-ever Yule Ball," said Priya in a hushed mixture of sadness and awe.
Priya, Sophie, and Ariadne were milling about the Gryffindor Common Room with the rest of the entirety of their house, all readying themselves to head down to the Great Hall with last-minute touches to their outfits.
"I suppose that's true, Priya," Ariadne replied, surprised that she had not realized this too, while Sophie teetered on the verge of tears at this devastating revelation.
Though the Yule Ball originated alongside the Triwizard Tournament, which had been discontinued over a century ago due to safety concerns, Hogwarts staff had agreed to retain this relatively safe and highly popular tradition even when they were not hosting the tournament and foreign guests. Yule, was, of course, an ancient holiday observed by witches and wizards, and allowed for the widespread participation of all students rather than just the school champion. Ariadne had sat through six years of Yule Balls with varying degrees of involvement; sometimes being tapped to helped organize and decorate, other times to police student behavior in her role as a prefect, and being perfectly blunt, on many occasions simply whiling the night away in boredom, as loud parties were not really her thing. But tonight, in her seventh year, for her last Yule Ball as a Hogwarts student, Ariadne found herself in an unusual position for the first time: not an organizer, not a prefect, and with a date. When she pointed out this fact to Priya, Priya had responded with an immensely satisfied smirk. When she asked Priya to explain her reaction, she had simply said, "Thank Merlin, Ariadne, that you finally get to be a regular witch for a night."
Truthfully, Ariadne found having no responsibilities on such an important night of the school year deeply unsettling. When she tried to probe this discomfort further, she realized that she was…free. She didn't have to be a prefect tonight. She didn't have to tell off James for spiking the punch with Firewhiskey or guard the side doors to ensure that Peeves didn't sneak in. She didn't have to spend all day enchanting waterless snowflakes to fall softly from the ceiling. She didn't have to be ready to fight some dastardly evil plot to endanger Hogwarts students. She and Sirius were fairly sure that the Death Eaters' efforts would be fully focused on the magical beast they were planning to unleash in just eight days—it wouldn't make sense to give themselves away with a feebler plot tonight. So, Ariadne Morrigan had nothing to be responsible for. But what on earth was she supposed to do with all that freedom?
Priya, who was waiting with Ariadne near the girls dormitory staircase for their respective dates, seemed to guess her thoughts. "Ariadne, promise me you'll have fun tonight. Let loose. Get into a bit of trouble. Snog Sirius in front of everyone," she said quite fiercely, turning her head with its beautifully-styled black hair towards her. Her eyes, traced in shimmering eyeliner, bored into Ariadne's. "Or fight him, I actually don't care, as long as you get yourself into some drama. Don't be good, don't be boring—"
What else Ariadne was forbidden to be was interrupted by the arrival of their suitors. Remus and Sirius had made their way over from the boys' dormitory, squeezing through the glittering, multicolored crowd. Remus was dressed in plain, dark burgundy dress robes that suited his overall air of a sort of somber professor. Sirius wore black dress robes that were not unlike standard school robes, except that they were trimmed with a shining, scaly black material. Dragon skin—and unless Ariadne's expert eyes were mistaken, Hebridean Black.
Sirius gave them a slight bow in greeting. "Miss Mirza, Miss Hopkins," he said, acknowledging Priya and Sophie. Both of Ariadne's best friends seemed delighted by this kind of formal reception from Hogwarts' social elite. However, Sirius did not say anything aloud to Ariadne. He instead gave her a knowing sort of look that made Ariadne's stomach do a backflip.
Meanwhile, Remus extended his hand to Priya, who literally squealed aloud and disappeared with him, talking a mile a minute. Sophie wandered off behind them airily. Ariadne glanced around, surprised to see Sirius without his scheming other half. "Where's James?"
"Ah, yes. If you look over there, you'll see him gloating over his prize," said Sirius, nodding toward the portrait hole. There stood a hugely inflated James Potter, dressed in crimson and gold dress robes, talking eagerly to a pretty young woman with flaming red hair that almost matched his robes. The self-importance radiating from him was nearly palpable.
Ariadne raised an eyebrow. "Evans actually agreed to go with him? I thought it was likelier that McGonagall would agree to his idea of the Quidditch team providing formation flying entertainment for the ball."
"You know, in defense of my best friend, Potter isn't quite as worthless as you make him out to be," said Sirius, not without a trace of amusement.
"I never claimed Potter was worthless. He's just immature, egotistic, attention-seeking, and thick-headed," replied Ariadne matter-of-factly. "And…a decently good friend," she added begrudgingly.
Sirius inclined his head at her in partial agreement. "Well, let's just hope that Lily Evans is able to see a few more redeeming qualities in him than you can," said Sirius, casting the pair another glance. "But never mind that, Ariadne. I have something for you," he said quickly, reaching into his pocket.
Based on the urgency of his voice, Ariadne leaned in, expecting some kind of protective charm or object, or an intriguing clue about their nemeses' grand plans. But Sirius instead handed her a small, rectangular, velvet box. Confused, Ariadne opened it without questioning him further.
It contained a silver hair comb with a jeweled design. At first the design appeared to be two abstract shapes, but Ariadne's well-practiced eyes, trained by many years of intensive study in Astronomy, quickly identified them. Tiny, twinkling crystals formed the shape of the constellation Canis Major, and above it, the arc of the constellation Corona Borealis. Corona Borealis, Ariadne of course knew, represented the crown presented by Dionysus to Ariadne in ancient mythology. One crystal in Canis Major glowed especially bright, and Ariadne guessed it must have been enchanted to do so. It was Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky viewed from Earth.
Ariadne and Sirius, represented by the stars.
Sirius, she noticed, was watching her reaction attentively with perhaps a touch of…nervous apprehension? He looked as though he were expecting a critique of his spellwork, or a rebuke of the narcissism in placing his celestial namesake so centrally in an adornment Ariadne was meant to wear.
But for a moment, Ariadne couldn't say anything. It was so elegant, so personal yet understated, so perfectly…them.
"I thought the silver would go with your robes," interjected Sirius hastily into the silence, indicating the silky mauve Ariadne wore, with elegantly-cut bell sleeves and a full, flowing skirt. "I also surmised that a tiara would be a bit too much, so I went with the hair comb."
"But how did you know what I was going to wear?" asked Ariadne, bewildered for a moment.
"I sought a bit of assistance," answered Sirius evasively, and Ariadne saw Priya wink at her from across the common room.
Ariadne had still not provided any feedback on this entirely unexpected gift, and Sirius, apparently uncomfortably aware of this, continued, "If it's still too ostentatious, you don't have to wear it, of course—"
"No, no, it's beautiful," Ariadne said in an uncommonly breathy voice, which only made her more flustered. "I love it." She fumbled with the comb and carefully tucked its teeth into the half of her hair that was twisted up in a knot, leaving the crystalline constellations exposed. "Is it straight?" she asked, turning her head so that Sirius could see the back of it.
"Perfectly," replied Sirius, who Ariadne saw was now positively glowing with pleasure.
"Right," said Ariadne, recovering herself and straightening the sleeve of her robe. "Well, I suppose we're meant to go down to the ball now, aren't we?"
"After you, my lady," said Sirius with another bow, still grinning.