Chapter Twenty: The Yule Ball
Fortunately for both Draco and Ginny, neither of them received any Howlers. Harish had simply assumed that it was because Sirius did not tell anyone about the two of them. But, the real reason was, of course, Voldemort. Although the Dark Lord would have found it amusing if Draco had been disowned, he really wanted to keep the boy as an ally. If Harish's friend was disowned, there was a possibility that Harish would find it unfair and they all join the Light side.
Because Voldemort could not let this happen, he managed to calm his most trusted follower down and convince him that Draco did not need disowning. After several calming draughts, a cup of tea, and a promise from Voldemort that the girl and her twin brothers would be absolved of their blood traitor status, Lucius finally decided that he did not have to send his son a Howler either. For if everyone knew about the two, Molly and Arthur would surely find out and the girl might be kept from going to the ball. If that happened, then the girl would never be given the excuse to properly join Voldemort.
Or at least, that was the reason Voldemort told himself to justify his actions. He would never admit that it was simply because Harish would get angry and throw a tantrum, and Voldemort hated it when his son was upset.
So, they all reached Christmas without a hitch.
Everyone remained in the castle once the holidays started. On Christmas Eve, Harish and his friends all stayed up rather late, sitting in front of the fire and roasting marshmallows the twins brought up from the kitchens. On Christmas morning, Harish blinked his eyes awake to find a face inches from his own.
"Argh!" Harish cried, jumping and falling off his bed.
"Master?" Dobby squeaked. He ran over and saw the teen on the floor. Then, he promptly began banging his head on Harish's bedside cabinet.
"Harish?"
"Are you all right?"
Within seconds, the twins were standing over Harish and helping him up, saying. "We thought you were being attacked, mate."
"Gave us a right scare…"
Harish turned and realized Dobby was still throwing himself against the bedside cabinet. The teen rushed forward and pulled the insane elf off of the cabinet.
"Dobby, stop!" Harish exclaimed.
Dobby stopped an mumbled, "Dobby had to punish hisself, sir. Dobby made young Master Harish hurt hisself."
"What are you doing here, Dobby?" Harish asked.
"Dobby came to bring Master Harish his presents, sir."
"Why were you in my face?"
"Dobby was deciding whether he should wake Young Master, or not."
"Well," Harish said after a second. "I am awake."
"Dobby left you's presents there," the elf replied, pointing to the foot of his master's bed.
"Very well," Harish said. "You are dismissed."
Dobby nodded and disappeared with pop. Harish shook his head and turned to the presents. The gift that Dobby brought turned out to be a book from his father titled, Magical Water Plants of the Highland Lochs. Inside the front cover was a note that read: I thought that you might need this in the near future.
Harish looked at it in confusion, before flipping through it and setting it aside. Then, he went through all of the other packages that were sitting at the foot of his bed. In all, he received a book from Hermione called Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland, a bulging bag of dyed Dungbombs from Fred, a fanged Frisbee from George, a handy penknife from Sirius that was supposed to open any lock, and the usual hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley.
Harish and the twins met up with the others in the common room and went down to breakfast together. Then, they spent most of the morning in the dungeons, where everyone was enjoying their presents. They returned to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch, which included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers.
They went out onto the grounds in the afternoon; the snow was untouched except for the deep channels made by the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students on their way up to the castle. Hermione, Daphne, and Draco decided to watch while Harish and the three Weasleys engaged in a snowball fight. At one point, Draco was finally dragged into the fray when Harish hit him with a rather soggy snowball at the back of his head. At five o'clock, the three girls all returned to their dorms to get ready for the ball.
The others finally abandoned their fight at seven o'clock, when it had become hard to aim properly. The trooped back to the common room, casting multiple warming and drying charms. The four boys then changed into their dress robes. The twins had matching deep blue robes and Draco had black robes that had a high collar, which made the boy look like a vicar.
The common room looked strange, full of people wearing different colors instead of the usual mass of black. Daphne, Hermione, and Ginny were waiting for the boys at the tops of the stairs. George had already agreed to meet Angelina in the Entrance Hall. Daphne was wearing robes of a very pale green. Her plain hair was loose, and she had done something to it that made it curl slightly, falling over her shoulders in gentle waves.
"You look lovely," Harish said as he walked up to her, offering her an arm.
"Thank you," Daphne said, beaming.
Hermione looked lovely as well. In fact, she looked nothing like her normal self. She had done something to her normally bushy hair. It was now sleek and shiny, drawn up into an elegant knot at the top of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was holding herself differently, somehow—or perhaps it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her shoulder. She was also smiling and Harish thought that there was something different about that smile…
The teen smirked as Fred gaped at Hermione, adoration reflecting in his blue eyes.
"Hermione," he said. "You look…" he made gestures toward her mouth, but then decided not to say anything. Instead he finished by saying, "Astounding."
Hermione smiled even wider, and Harish realized that her teeth were smaller and straighter. He had no idea how he noticed it before. As Fred led Hermione out of the common room, Harish followed with Daphne. Behind the two of them were Draco and Ginny, and George brought up the rear. Harish glanced back with a smirk to see Astoria watching them glumly, sitting on a couch. Then, he exited.
When they arrived in the Entrance Hall, they found Angelina waiting on them. George walked over to her. Fred and Hermione followed. Draco stood awkwardly in between Harish and Ginny, tugging on the collar of his robes.
Then, Professor McGonagall's voice called, "Champions over here, please!"
"See you later," Harish muttered to Draco.
The younger boy nodded, looking pale. Harish shook his head, knowing that Draco knew that soon everyone would know that he loved Ginny. Then, he led Daphne over to McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan. She told them to wait outside the doors while everyone else went inside; they were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down.
Fleur Delacour and her date, Roger Davies, stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Krum and his date stood near Harish and Daphne. Harish did not know who the girl was, but he guessed that she was from Beauxbatons.
Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.
The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished and were replaced by about a hundred smaller, rounder, lantern-lit ones. Each seated about a dozen people.
Harish caught sight of his friends sitting at one table together. To his delight, Ron was only a few tables away half-gaping, half-glaring at Ginny. Beside Ron was Neville, who was sitting in between the red-head and a small blonde girl with large eyes. She wore a pale blue robes and was gazing around the Hall with a wide-eyed stare. If Harish had to guess, he would figure that she was in the same year as Ginny.
Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table and Harish had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Karkaroff wore an expression of unhappiness, but Bagman was as jovial as ever, waving merrily to them. He was wearing robes of bright purple with large yellow stars. Madame Maxime was wearing a flowing gown of lavender silk and was applauding them politely. After a moment of scanning the judges table for a second time, Harish realized that Barty Crouch was not there. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley.
When the champions and their partners reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Harish. Harish, taking the hint, sat in the seat after pulling a chair out for Daphne. Then, he seated himself in between his partner and his friends' older brother. Although Harish would have much rather sat with the twins, he knew he would at least manage to talk civilly with the Weasley boy. Although he was one of the ones that had kicked up a fuss about the twins being placed in Slytherin, he wasn't all that bad to speak to. Besides, no matter how self-absorbed Percy was, it would be nowhere near as bad as would have been if Harish had been forced to sit beside Dumbledore.
"I've been promoted," Percy said before Harish could open his mouth. "I'm now Mr. Crouch's personal assistant, and I'm here representing him."
"Why did he not come?" Another reason that it was good to sit next to Percy, was that it would be a good chance to hear about the inner workings of the Ministry. Having been raised by a Dark Lord, Harish naturally realized opportunities like these, and frankly, the Gryffindor would not even realize he was blabbing all of the Ministry's secrets away until Harish mentioned that fact.
"I'm afraid to say Mr. Crouch is ill. He hasn't been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising—over-worked. He's not as young as he once was—though he's still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry, and then, Mr. Crouch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehavior of that house-elf of his. Naturally he dismissed her immediately afterward, but—well as I say, he's getting on, he needs looking after, and I think he's found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left. And then we had the tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the Cup to deal with—that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around—no, poor man, he's having a well-earned, quiet Christmas. Im just glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place."
There was no food yet on the golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of them. Harish picked his up and read through it. Everyone at the table were looking surreptitiously around, not sure how they were supposed to order. Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down at his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, "Pork chops!"
And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates too. Harish glanced around observing the other people sitting at his table. The Beauxbatons girl was speaking with Krum, who Harish realized he had never heard speak much before. He was certainly speaking now, and very enthusiastically at that.
"Vell, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he was telling his date. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds bigger than these—though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains—"
"Now, now, Viktor!" Karkaroff said with a laugh that did not quite reach his cold eyes, "don't go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!"
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Igor, all this secrecy…one would almost think you didn't want visitors."
"Well, Dumbledore," Karkaroff said, displaying all of his yellow teeth to their fullest extent, "we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"
"Oh, I would never dream to assume I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," Dumbledore replied with a smile. "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished…"
Meanwhile Fleur was criticizing the Hogwarts decorations to Roger Davies.
"Zis is nothing," she said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptors all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course…zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze palace. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like zat." She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.
Roger Davies was watching her talk with a very dazed look on his face, and he kept missing his mouth with his fork. Harish snorted into his goulash at the ridiculous boy. He had the impression that Davies was too busy staring at Fleur to take in a word she was saying.
"Absolutely right," he said, quickly slapping his hand onto the table in imitation of Fleur. "Like that. Yeah."
Harish shook his head and turned to Daphne, raising his eyebrow at her. As she had been listening in on their conversation as well, she giggled.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," Daphne replied with a smile, scooting a piece of lettuce with her fork absentmindedly.
After the food had all been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all of the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.
As the lights on the tables dimmed and the dance floor was lit was lit with bright spotlights, Harish held a hand out and said, turning to Daphne, "Could I have this dance?"
"Of course," she replied with a radiant smile.
He placed one hand on her waist, and grasped her hand lightly in his own. Then, they began dancing as the Weird Sister struck a low and mournful tune. After a few minutes, others came onto the dance floor and the champions were no longer the center of attention. Draco and Ginny were dancing nearby—Draco kept glancing around nervously. But, after a minute or so, Draco became more comfortable and really seemed to be enjoying himself. Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime, so dwarfed by her that his pointed hat barely tickled her chin. A few feet further, George and Angelina were dancing so exuberantly that the people around them were backing away in fear of injury.
Harish heard the final, quavering note from the bagpipe and his hand fell away from Daphne's waist, though he did not even realize he was still holding her hand.
"Shall we find the others?" he asked.
Daphne nodded. "That would be nice."
So, he led her out of the crowd. When Draco and Ginny saw them walking away, they followed. As he passed George, he tapped him lightly on the shoulder and the red-head followed as well. The three couples found themselves a table at the edge of the room and sat down to catch up with each other.
Then, after a few minutes, a certain red-haired cretin stomped up to their table.
"Ginny!" Ron spluttered. "What are you…why…what?"
"It is none of your business who I decide to go out with, Ron," Ginny replied, sticking her nose into the air.
"But that's Malfoy!" Ron exclaimed.
"I am aware that Draco is a Malfoy, thank you very much," Ginny stated, annoyance seeping into her voice.
When his sister had called Draco by his first name, Ron had looked as though he had been slapped in the face. Then, his face grew very red as he became even angrier.
"It just so happens," Ginny continued. "That I like Draco, and he likes me. So buzz off."
"He's just playing you. He's a dirty, stinking Slytherin who's as dark as his father. You'll regret falling for him, you will!"
Draco finally stood up.
"I think you heard your sister properly," he hissed, standing his ground. "So why don't you buzz off and annoy someone else?"
Ron glared at Draco, but wisely said nothing else. Instead, he harrumphed and stomped away to where his date was sitting very sullenly.
"What an idiot," Ginny muttered, shaking his head.
"Moron," Draco stated, agreeing with his date.
Hermione sat down at the table after the second song ended.
"Where's Fred?" Harish asked.
"He's gone to get us drinks," she said. She was smiling and her face was very pink from dancing.
Harish leaned over, and sure enough, he could spot Fred holding two cups of butterbeers. Harish waved and Fred nodded, walking over to them. He handed Hermione her drink and sat down beside her. As another song started, Harish said, "Oh, this one sounds lively. Care to dance?"
He offered Daphne his hand again.
She took it with a smile and Harish pulled her to her feet before spinning her around. They began dancing once again, but this time they kept dancing until they were both so tired and so hot that they could hardly breathe. Laughing, Harish held onto Daphne's hand and the two of them left the Great Hall.
The front doors of the castle were open, and the fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes, winding, paths, and large stone statues. Here and there, there were benches with couples sitting on them. Harish and Daphne set along one of the windy paths, walking in comfortable silence, but they hadn't gone far before they could hear voices.
"…don't see what all the fuss is about, Igor."
"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff's voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though he was very keen on not being overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it—"
"Then flee," Snape replied curtly. "Flee—I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."
Harish and Daphne glanced at each other, both wondering what was worrying Karkaroff so much. Harish put a finger up to his lips and crept forward. He leaned far enough past the corner of the pathway to see Karkaroff's back to him. He was holding his arm out and Snape was looking at it. Almost as if Snape had sensed movement, his eyes jerked over to where Harish had been peering. The teen backed away as quick as possible, stood by Daphne, and straightened his robes. Snape and Karkaroff came round the corner seconds later. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rosebushes apart, his expression most disagreeable. Squeals came from the many rustling bushes and dark shapes emerged from them.
"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled as a girl ran past him. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" as a boy went rushing after her. "And what are you two doing?" he rounded on Harish and Daphne.
"Walking," Harish replied smoothly. "It's much more airy—"
"Well, keep walking!" Snape hissed, and he brushed past them, his long black cloak billowing behind him. Karkaroff hurried away after the Potions Master. Harish and Daphne continued walking down the path.
Harish laughed, "He thinks he is so dramatic."
"I wonder what has gotten Karkaroff all worked up though?" Daphne mused.
"From what I observed, his Dark Mark is growing darker," Harish replied.
They stopped walking.
"What?" Daphne asked, turning to look at him.
"Well," Harish replied slowly, "I guess it is about time my father starts the war back up again. I am old enough to fight in it."
He knew that Daphne's family was neutral, so speaking of war made him uneasy around her.
"So he is recalling his old Death Eaters?" Daphne questioned him.
"I expect so, yeah," Harish replied. "But…if my father really does restart the war, what will you do? I mean, I know your family is light and all, but mine is dark, so…" Harish trailed off, looking down at the ground. This was one thing that worried him. He was half afraid that Daphne would leave him if he joined the war.
"Why should that keep me from supporting you?" Daphne asked.
Harish looked up at her, his face a mixture of shock, relief, and joy. Then, without thinking, he leaned forward and their mouths met. Then, as there was a loud shriek, the two broke apart. Both of them were in shock from their kiss and flushing happily, too preoccupied to pay much notice when Madame Maxime's voice broke the silence of the pathway with a trumpet like blast of noise.
"I 'ave nevair been more insulted in my life! 'Alf-giant? Moi? I 'ave—I 'ave big bones!" And Madame Maxime came striding angrily past them.
Under normal circumstances, the two would have been wondering about Hagrid being a half-giant, but both were still thinking of their kiss. Harish laughed at her after she had passed, and then said to Daphne, "Come on. It should be nearing midnight."
So the two of them went down to the Slytherin common room. Harish bid Daphne good night before going into his dormitory, sit on his bed, and let out a great sigh. He fell back onto his bed and smiled happily, remembering the feel of Daphne's lips on his. And as Harish drifted off to sleep, he felt as though for once something was right with the world.