Chapter 57. Yule Ball
The walls of the Great Hall were covered with silver drapes that shimmered under the cool light. And the enchanted ceiling displayed the clear night sky, even when heavy snowfall blanketed the Scottish Highlands. If not for the wards, the castle would have been half submerged in white. Such was the intensity of the winter this year.
The students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had to trudge through this bothersome snow in heavy coats and boots before they were able to cast them off and show off their fancy clothes.
And these colourful people filled the Great Hall, along with Hogwarts students.
Instead of four long tables, innumerable small ones spanned throughout the vast chamber, each containing eight chairs. Students had already taken their seats, revelling in the feast that the house elves had produced with great care and enthusiasm.
Harry's friends were gathered around one such table.
Hermione and Neville talked in whispers, their cheeks warm and their smiles exuding joy. Her periwinkle blue dress brought out her hidden beauty, while her unusually straight brunette hair allowed her pretty face to shine. And her chocolate eyes gleamed whenever someone complimented her. It wasn't every day that she was given this courtesy, after all.
The boy with her, too, cut an impressive figure in a sleek black suit. It seemed as if he was growing taller day by day. While still nowhere near Harry's height, Neville was the third tallest boy in their year after Ron Weasley.
Sitting beside Hermione was Tracey, lost in a pleasant conversation with her date.
Blaise Zabini offered her soft, small smiles whenever she giggled while telling him funny stories about her friends. And her sea green dress did its job of keeping his attention if her sweet laughter wasn't enough. Why should he look at other girls when Tracey Davis looked so gorgeous?
He particularly liked how effortlessly lovely she was. He didn't think he had met any Slytherins like her. The people in their house were a gloomy bunch who thought acting cool and apathetic was the next best thing since Merlin.
And so, in this grey pit, Tracey was like a fresh ray of sunshine that tore through the dark clouds just to provide warmth to that one withering flower on a desolate, ice-covered hill.
He hoped that everything would be alright tonight. That he would be that flower, and she would be his sunshine.
As she threw her head back in laughter while telling him something about Harry, he blessed his luck for landing him such a nice girl. Maybe he would get a kiss and a girlfriend tonight. Then he wouldn't be so damn lonely anymore. He didn't really have a good time in Slytherin up until now, but maybe it would change. Just maybe.
… That was uncharacteristically optimistic of him, he pondered. Probably his date's influence.
Unaware of the hopeful thoughts fleeting through Blaise's head, Tracey cuffed Astoria for swearing crassly while conversing with Ginny.
"Not you too, Trace. Don't let Daph corrupt you," the blonde grumbled, looking cute in a white, flowy knee-length dress with her untied hair falling in curtains around her face.
"Daph has tasked me to keep an eye on you. And that's what I'm doing. And when's your date going to arrive? Or do you not have a date?"
Astoria flicked her hair over her back and shot her an incredulous look. "Haven't you noticed yet? Ginny is my date, dumbo."
"What?"
"Don't make me say it again." Astoria pinched her nose at the incredulous stares she was receiving from them all. Ginny, on the other hand, laughed and slung her arm around her best friend's neck, entertained by their reactions.
"Is that even allowed?" Blaise asked with an amused curl to his lips.
"Professor McGonagall didn't specify that the date should be from the opposite gender. So, it should be allowed," she responded with a pleased grin, not hiding her pride at finding the obvious loophole.
Hermione smiled exasperatedly. "She's got a point. You can stop puffing your chest, Tori."
Tracey shook her head, unable to deny that logic. And it wasn't as if Astoria and Ginny weren't looking cute together. Because they looked absolutely delightful. Though she still wished to see them blushing around boys instead of trying to break rules. Turning her gaze to the last member of their group, she pointedly looked at the empty chair beside her. "What about you, Iris?"
Iris raised her eyes from the glass, wiping the chocolate moustache with a napkin.
"I don't have a date. Didn't you already know that?" She chuckled in an awkward manner, playing with her braided hair that lay over her shoulder. And hoped that they wouldn't needle her about it. She wasn't really in a mood to answer their difficult questions.
"What! I thought you were joking and were just being secretive like me!" Tracey gasped, gaining the attention of the other nearby students. She, too, hid the identity of her date until the last minute, wanting to surprise her friends.
"Keep it down," Iris hissed at her dramatic response, not wanting any more attention than she was already getting from the boys and a couple of girls. She almost regretted wearing this sexy black gown due to that. Then again, she wouldn't have been spared even if she had put on an average dress. Because no matter what she wore, her [Peak Body] Perk would never allow her to become a faceless background character. She didn't even want to attend this annoying ball, but she knew that Harry would worry too much if she skipped it. And she wasn't selfish enough to ruin her brother's night just because she was feeling blue.
Tracey was gaping at her, unable to comprehend why she wouldn't have a date tonight. In her unbiased view, Iris was the prettiest girl in Hogwarts. Only Fleur Delacour and that French professor could claim to be better-looking than her friend. Even then, it was a close call, and not to forget, Iris was just thirteen. She could only imagine how beautiful she would be when she was older and at her peak. "But why?"
"Just because."
Before Tracey could press her, Dumbledore stood up at the head table and ordered everyone to do the same. When everyone did so, he waved his wand, and all the tables were pushed towards the walls, creating a big stage area where the students could dance.
A long podium was conjured too, where the famous band, the Weird Sisters, took their positions with various musical instruments floating around them.
Tracey wasn't the only one who cheered at their entrance.
~xXxXx~
"May I?" Harry said, offering his arm to Daphne once Dumbledore led Madam Maxime to the stage, signalling the champions to follow his example.
"You may." She returned his smile, clasping his hand and rising from her seat. She followed him to the centre of the stage and couldn't contain the bubbly feeling when he took her in his arms, the slow music creating a dreamy atmosphere, the sounds of the cello and the piano distinct yet in sync.
Her hand was placed in his, their fingers tightly interlaced. While her other hand was on his shoulder. She hid her blush when the arm around her waist tugged her closer.
If she wasn't wearing heels, the move would have pushed her face against his collarbone. But thankfully, with the help of her footwear, the top of her head managed to reach his nose, bridging the gap between their heights.
She tilted up her face as he leaned down, their bodies still moving with the music.
The kiss was soft. And slow. And magic. Pure magic.
Her heart pounded against his chest until all she could hear was her racing pulse. No, their racing pulse. Because Harry wasn't faring any better as they kissed each other senseless, their chests flushed and beating together. When he pulled back, he gave her a whimsical twirl. And she was glad that she had gotten used to the daze that followed these kisses. Because she would have surely stumbled if this was her first one.
She turned around with elegant grace before he pulled her close once again.
Ignoring the hundreds of eyes on her, she coiled her arms around his back and pressed her face on his shoulder, swaying to the gentle melody while breathing in his scent.
He was warm and cuddly, she thought with a content smile.
Closing her eyes, she let her body do its own thing. And when his arms wound around her, she tightened her grip happily until there was no space left between them.
Two songs passed this way, and she didn't even know when the other students joined them. Though she did glare at one stupid girl who tried to cut in. If she wasn't in such a mellow mood, she would have humiliated that girl until she broke into tears. But, fortunately for that moron, Daphne was satisfied enough with scaring her away.
Harry's amused laugh was music to her ears. And she moved a little away from him so they could see each other while dancing. He gave her one more twirl, and she followed his lead, spinning away from him before closing the distance once again. The music morphed into a little faster song, and they moved according to it. Stepping back and forth, swivelling around each other. And when the tempo slowed, they reverted to embracing and swaying together.
Daphne knew that many girls were waiting for their turns, including Iris, Astoria, and Fleur. But, feeling a little selfish, she decided to hog Harry for the first entire hour. She was his girlfriend after all; she deserved that much. And he didn't seem to mind when she continued dancing with him, whereas other couples broke away to take a break.
"What's the plan for the future? You've been awfully quiet about what to do after the completion of the remaining quests," she asked, smiling when he dipped her. She leaned back, allowing him to kiss her on the mouth before standing upright again.
She wasn't surprised when she sensed privacy charms erected around them.
"That came out of left field," he said, scrunching his eyebrows.
"I can only stare at your face for so long before it becomes creepy." She rolled her eyes, steering him a little to the left, not wanting to interrupt whatever ritual Weasley and Johnson were doing. Because that definitely wasn't dancing. Maybe they were resurrecting Morgana or something.
Harry smirked, releasing her hand and cupping her face with it. "Weak. I can stare at your lovely face for hours."
"I know. I'm aware that I'm not creepy like you," she quipped, though she almost broke into giggles when he gripped her waist and picked her up, whirling on the back of his heels while she swore and wore her biggest smile.
When her feet touched the ground, she awarded him with a searing kiss, ignoring everyone's varied reactions.
Once they had their hands on each other again, he answered her previous question. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't know what awaits me after my ascension. But I know that whatever happens, I want everyone I love to be with me for all eternity. You, Iris, Astoria, Tracey, Neville, my mum, your mum, aunt Alice, Padfoot, and Moony. And maybe even Fleur."
"Oh, Fleur? Can't say I'm surprised." Daphne chuckled.
"Nothing is confirmed yet. But I think she likes me. And I, too, have grown fond of her." He nodded, recalling that jealous feeling when he had seen Bole trying to get in her knickers.
"I see. Not that you need it, but you have my blessings. Fleur is a sweet girl, and I wouldn't mind seeing her integrated into our group."
He released a humorous snort. "It must be a record or something. A girlfriend blessing her boyfriend's desire to acquire more girlfriends."
She had to agree, that sounded so strange when put that way.
"Well, we're not normal. And I'm not insecure anymore about my worth or my place in your life. You love me, and I love you. It's that simple. Then there's your 'Lustful' trait too. And even without it, I know you're a horndog. I have to be realistic about these things. I'm not delusional enough to think that I can dedicate hours upon hours every day to sex. It's better for you to have other girls to stick your cock in than for me to lose my enthusiasm for it. Because, surely, I'll lose my sex drive if it becomes too tiring and overbearing."
Harry offered her an impressed look. "That sounds wise."
"Haven't I said it already? Unlike you Gryffindor nincompoops, I use my brain."
He merely smiled.
"What about Eos?" she questioned, perching her chin over his shoulder while hugging him. The music had slowed down considerably to her delight. Allowing her to just embrace him and sway lazily.
"What about her?"
"Why aren't you already fucking and controlling her?"
"Uhm, maybe because I don't like her lifestyle and don't think I can love her? And what's this controlling thing you're talking about?"
She could hear the sarcasm and confusion in his tone.
"What I'm saying is, you should better have her loyal and dedicated to you. And from what I've seen and heard, she can be easily swayed into becoming your underling. She's lustful. Even more than you. Why not use that to your advantage?" Daphne whispered in his ear.
"First of all, she's not my enemy, so I don't think I need to control her. And second, I can't just manipulate her feelings. She's innocent. And toying with her will make me feel guilty," he whispered back.
Daphne shook her head exasperatedly. "Harry, you're a serial killer. A little manipulation shouldn't make you uncomfortable. And I'm not advising you to hurt her feelings. I'm just advising you to take the obvious advantage. While Eos is not your enemy, she isn't your close friend either. You have a rare chance to convert your potential enemy into your loyal lover. You'd be a fool to let her slip away. She's the strongest mage you've ever seen. Even five times stronger than you when you don't use the sword. She's a valuable asset; acquire her before someone else does."
"That sounds so wrong. I only have sex with people I love. That's a rule I've made to not lose myself. And Eos is not someone I can love, not with her current playgirl lifestyle."
"Then don't love her. Just be her friend with benefits. Show her what she's missing. Overwhelm her with your sexual prowess. Leave her in awe and wonder, so she'll come back. And about your particular rule: break it. There are always exceptions to any rule. Allow Eos to be the exception for this one," she cajoled, nudging his neck and squeezing him.
Harry felt conflicted. On one hand, Daphne's logic was right. But on the other hand, he didn't really want to risk having sex with Eos. What if he accidentally fell in love with her? Would he be able to be friendly with her, even knowing that she was fucking other men? Because that absolutely wasn't his cup of tea. His girlfriends were his girlfriends. The mere thought of someone else touching them made his stomach churn in dread.
'But I don't have to consider her my girlfriend. She can be a stupid, sexy friend who I like to fuck when the mood strikes,' he thought to himself, still not totally sure.
"I'll think about it," he said as the song came to an end.
She just nodded, not wanting to nag him.
"I see Iris fending off boys there. Go on, help her. I'll take a break."
With their arms hooked, he led her to the tables that were set on the fringes of the stage. Hermione, Neville, and Iris were seated there, nursing their drinks, while a rejected boy scurried back to his group. The annoyed look on Iris' face told him that she was getting tired of the constant attention.
"Well, never knew Hermione was so hot. Better be careful about your girl, Nev, I might try to whisk her away." He grinned, chuckling as the brunette's cheeks reddened.
"I'm not his—" she protested in an embarrassed voice, but Neville interrupted before she could finish her sentence.
"I'll castrate you if you try."
Harry winced exaggeratedly. "Ouch. That's a mental image I did not need. You holding my cock with a knife in your other hand."
Only he laughed at his joke, while the others shot him disbelieving looks. Oh well, a failed joke, nothing to be ashamed of.
He pulled a chair for Daphne, earning himself a kiss on the cheek. Then he moved towards his sister, standing in front of her. "May I get the pleasure to dance with you, my lady?"
"You may, good sir." Her perpetually annoyed look morphed into a small smile. And she took his hand, allowing him to drag her away to the dance floor.
Once the twins were away, Neville and Hermione heaved a sigh.
"Finally. I thought we'd have to guard her for the entire night," he said, standing up and grabbing Hermione's arm.
"Oh? You were guarding her?" Daphne asked, sipping butterbeer and getting comfortable in her seat.
"Couldn't exactly leave her alone. Not with the attention she's getting. I didn't want to see her mood worsen any more than it already was. So, Hermione and I chose to stop any pushy boys from being too forward." He shrugged.
"That was thoughtful of you."
"Of course, we couldn't leave her to wallow alone." Hermione smiled simply. "We better go now. I've been waiting for this dance forever."
"Go on, then. Don't mind me." The blonde returned their smile, happy that the two stuck with a morose Iris even when they didn't need to.
As she surveyed the crowd, curious to know who came with whom, her eyes widened, and a chuckle left her lips.
Astoria and Ginny were intensely dancing to a slow song, kicking and screaming like menaces. She'd better go there and save the others from them.
~xXxXx~
Iris closed her eyes and pressed her face against his neck, her arms tightly wound around him.
The feel of his body mashed against hers as he moved them gently, along with the soft sounds of the instruments surrounding them in a cocoon, made her feel all warm and blissful.
There was no one. No friends, no girlfriends, no professors. Just them, dancing together on the bed of clouds. And with her closed eyes, she could almost believe it. She could almost reach and touch it.
"Are you okay?" he whispered, cradling her head.
"Now I am." She nodded, pulling back and putting more effort into the dance. It wouldn't do to just cling to him and give others hints that they were more than siblings. Because the way she had been holding him was definitely not sibling-y.
"I'm glad. If you want, we can get away. I've already danced with Daphne. She wouldn't mind if we retired early," he offered, pulling her back into his arms as she gracefully twirled around him. She managed to suppress her gasp as her body went back right against his. Their faces were only inches apart, her boobs crushing against his chest. It seemed Harry didn't care how they looked to others.
She smiled, resisting the urge to capture his lips in hers, his breath tickling her nose. "Don't worry about me. Enjoy the ball. I'll be waiting for you in the Room."
"Why does it sound as if you're leaving after this dance?"
"Because I am. I just don't feel like dancing and socialising tonight."
Harry stared at her with narrowed eyes before they shone with determination. "If keeping our relationship secret bothers you so much, then we can disclose it now. All you need to do is kiss me."
She goggled at him. "Are you kidding?"
"No, I'm serious. I don't give a fuck what others will think or say. I'm ready if you are. Kiss me like you do every night. Hold me like you do in bed. Do it now."
He was truly serious as she gaped at him, his gaze flickering between her red lips and green eyes.
Did she mention that their faces were awfully close? That just a small movement of their heads would end up making them kiss in public?
Before he could do something foolish because he wanted to make her happy, her lips found his cheek, barely missing his mouth. Her lipstick left an imprint on his skin. A mark of affection. A mark of possession.
She shook her head. "Don't. I'm not ready yet."
It was as if he was seeing through her soul, confirming the truth in her words, before he uttered, "Okay."
She looped her arms around his neck and gave out a tinkling laugh, thinking of everyone's reaction if they found the twins with their lips locked and their hips tangled in an unholy manner. It would be quite funny, at least in the beginning, before it turned into an international scandal.
Harry raised his eyebrows. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing. Just picturing everyone's reaction if they saw us kissing."
He, too, laughed, dipping her. His hands gripping her back and waist.
She rolled her eyes when his gaze lingered on her cleavage. Then again, she had worn this black gown to show it off to him. And now she welcomed his attention. All those stupid older boys who had asked her for a dance, believing her naive and stupid and thinking that she would be easily pleased and persuaded in their beds, were nothing more than annoyances. They could never hope to measure up to her brother. They didn't have the ability to read her thoughts like he did, and they wouldn't go to the lengths her twin would for just a hint of her smile.
No one loved her like him. And no one loved him like her. They were different from everyone else. They were soulmates. Nothing could change that. Not even death. Certainly not other girls.
As he stood up straight and pulled her closer, she almost gave in to the temptation. She almost kissed him right then and there, but the thought of consequences held her back. Unlike Harry, she couldn't allow herself to be influenced by strong emotions and commit rash actions. Between them, it was her responsibility to think long-term and keep him in check. If she herself started being impulsive, then they would be doomed.
So, to fight off the temptation, she hid her lips on his neck and continued sharing his heat. Maybe even the way they were hugging was enough for others to start questioning the extent of their closeness. But she could only compromise so much.
The song petered out, and they went back to their friends. Only Daphne, Astoria, and Ginny were present at the table. When she bid them good night, Harry didn't make a fuss. He didn't try to force her to stay. Because there was a genuine smile on her face, that told him she had enjoyed the ball as much as she could and now it was time to retire.
Astoria's demand for him to dance with her was the last thing Iris heard before leaving the Great Hall.
~xXxXx~
After humouring Astoria, he thought of dancing with Tracey. But it wasn't easy finding her. It was strange, to be honest, that he hadn't seen her once throughout the night. And when he did, he was bamboozled to see her giggling with some boy on the stage. How he missed them until now, he didn't know. But at the sight of Tracey enfolded in Zabini's arms, his blood roared in anger and disgust; his very being was appalled and repulsed.
For the first time in his life, he really considered killing an innocent boy. Morality be damned. That was until rationality kicked in and stopped him from stomping up to them and doing something irrevocably bad. Like murdering him in broad daylight, or starlight, or whatever.
If they were just dancing as friends, then the jealousy would have been easily manageable. But no, the way their arms were wrapped around one another and the way they were staring into each other's eyes told him clearly that they desired something more than friendship. Something serious and permanent.
And that was unacceptable to him. Tracey was his. She had always been his. He wanted to do something to separate them. To bring her back to him. But he needed some minutes to silence his dark thoughts before facing them. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he freaked out and caused Tracey to hate him. He didn't think she would appreciate seeing her date beaten to a bloody pulp.
As he moved around the dance area, trying to find distractions, he considered why this had happened and why he felt so betrayed.
In hindsight, he should have been more attentive to who her date would be. Whatever, it was no use cursing his oblivious past self now.
Technically, he and Tracey weren't in a romantic relationship. So he didn't have any right to feel betrayed. But his emotions refused to listen to his logic, too busy inflaming his rage by pouring more oil, making him recall all the happy memories he had with his best friend, which could be marred by this single event.
He loved Tracey; he was sure of it. And even she loved him, or so he believed from their previous interactions. Though the real problem must be that none had confessed their feelings to each other, opting to remain just friends. There had been a bit of flirting here and there, and a bit of 'accidental' touching, but nothing more.
Tracey had refrained because she didn't want to come between him and Daphne. And Harry had kept his silence because if he let her in, he would have to share many of his secrets with her. One of them being the identity of the Red Grim. Which could change everything between them.
Now, Tracey had made it clear on many occasions that she despised the Grims for their brutality and lawlessness. He had been reasonably scared that those feelings would transfer to him once she realised who the brutal killer was. So he hadn't allowed himself to get too close to her, content with the status quo.
While he didn't give up on her, he decided to postpone the inevitable confrontation. And this procrastination had come to bite him in the arse.
"'Arry," Fleur called his name, sitting at a table beside Roger Davis.
She sounded so happy to have found him that he couldn't help but return her smile. Not surprising that she was thrilled to find him. She had no friends to talk to, not in her own school and definitely not in the other two, Harry and Elitsa being the exceptions, of course.
For a moment, he forgot about his own worries and decided to check on her.
He walked up to them, narrowing his eyes because of the way Roger was ogling at her chest. And she wasn't even showing much cleavage.
…
Fuck this twat; instead of conversing with her and making her feel less lonely, the creep was practically undressing her with his eyes and making her more miserable.
Since he was already pissed off, this simple reason was enough to make him explode.
He took a threatening step towards the boy, his green eyes ablaze with murder. "Where are your eyes, you stupid fucker?"
"'Arry!"
Roger snapped out of his daze at his tone and jumped off his chair. The fucker was an inch or so taller than him. Not that it would matter in the end. Harry could turn him into dust with a single thought.
"Mind your own business, Potter. I'm just enjoying the ball with my beautiful date."
"Does that involve eye-raping her?" Harry snarled, itching for the argument to escalate, wanting a reason to hurt the boy. Oh, it would be so much fun to break his limbs and throw him in the Great Lake for an impromptu swimming session.
"How dare you accuse me of something so vile!" Roger growled defensively, pulling out his wand, hiding his embarrassment behind his anger.
Harry grinned ferally in response. 'Just a little more. Give me a reason to hurl you across the hall. Give me a fucking reason to snap your neck.'
Alas, he didn't get his wish. Fleur stepped in, dissolving the mounting tension with her sweet, angelic voice.
"Enough! Roger, go back to your dorm. I 'ad a lovely night. Thank you."
Her voice was sharp and yet musical. There was magic in her voice—enchanting and powerful—directed only at the Ravenclaw. It felt somewhat similar to Daphne's charmspeak. But the magic was vastly different. It was too volatile and fiery. And he was impressed that she was able to direct it so precisely.
"Thank you for the wonderful night, Miss Delacour. See you later," he mumbled with glassy eyes before stumbling away and crashing into the table.
Harry would have snickered at the boy's misfortune if he was in a lighter mood.
"Well, that was anticlimactic," he muttered, not wilting under her unamused glare.
"Was zat really necessary?"
He shrugged. "I didn't like the way he was looking at you."
"While ze gesture is appreciated, please don't start random fights to take out your anger on someone else. Now, you 'ave a promise to fulfil. Come on, dance with me since you scared away my date." She took his hand, leading him back to the floor.
She was surprised when he snaked his arms around her thin waist and pulled her closer, shocked by his forwardness. While she was aware that he lusted after her like any other boy, she thought he was more tactful. But the way he was touching her body with daring familiarity forced her to reconsider whether she was right in trying to pursue a relationship with him. Now, normally, she wouldn't go for a boy who was already taken. But after getting informed of his special relationship with Daphne, where he was free to pursue other girls, her interest in him skyrocketed. Not that she had many options available. Everyone else could barely hold a conversation with her.
She bit her lower lip as her breasts squished against his chest. His chest was hard and muscular against her soft, round flesh. And his breath was warm on her neck, causing goosebumps all across her skin. Before she could decide whether this physical closeness was good or not, she realised that he wasn't doing it intentionally and that his body was on autopilot.
He wasn't even looking at her; his mind lost and somewhere else.
Looking over her shoulder, where he was staring, she found the subject of his obsession. And having the advantage of her Veela bloodline, which allowed her to understand others' emotions, she deduced what was happening.
Cupping Harry's face, she brought back his attention.
He flinched at how tightly he was holding her and loosened his grip considerably, allowing her to move just a little back so it wouldn't look like they were going to kiss each other any moment.
"Sorry," he apologised with a strained smile.
"It's alright. So, you're jealous zat your best friend is 'aving fun with another boy?"
"How—ah, the Veela thingy. What else did you read from my emotions?" He questioned, giving her a peculiar look.
She suppressed an amused smile, realising what he was talking about. It seemed he was aware that she was aware of his budding feelings regarding her. "We will talk about zat when you are not preoccupied with other feelings."
He nodded, noting that she didn't seem opposed to his feelings. That was a good indication that his assumption was right. That she too liked him. But now was not the right time to discuss that. "Yes, I'm disgusted by the sight of Tracey cuddled in someone else's arms. It feels like someone is driving a rusty, foot-long nail through my chest. I don't think I've ever felt this betrayed and uncomfortable."
Fleur turned them around, changing their position, so he wasn't able to stare at the couple. "But Tracey never agreed to join your pseudo 'arem. She isn't even aware of it. You can't blame 'er for moving on and trying a relationship with another boy. From 'er perspective, you are already taken and out of reach."
"I know. But I thought I had more time." He sighed, the anger having slowly seeped out, leaving him with just disappointment and regret.
She simply patted his shoulder. "It's not too late. You can still get 'er back."
"I can?"
"Of course." She chuckled, allowing him to twirl her. "Just go and ask 'er for a dance. Confess your feelings. And she will come back."
"Really?"
As she pressed against him, she pecked his cheek and hung her arms around his neck. "Really. I will 'elp you a little. Come on."
"Wait—"
But she was already steering him towards them. In no time, he reached them. And he knew what to do.
This was his only chance. He couldn't afford to fumble it.
"May we cut in?" He interrupted their dance.
Tracey's warm brown eyes widened, and she readily moved towards him. "Of course, Harry."
Blaise didn't look as enthusiastic, but he allowed Fleur to lead him away.
Tracey beamed at him, putting her palm on his shoulder and grabbing his hand with the other.
Harry didn't smile back, wrapping his free hand around her waist and pulling her closer than was appropriate.
While Tracey didn't say anything, her brimming smile disappeared.
"You're looking pretty, Tracey," he said, running his gaze from her head to toe.
Her light brown hair was unbound and fell in waves behind her back. Her sea green dress was extra tight around certain areas, highlighting her growing curves. The fabric of the dress was also super thin. And it almost felt like his hand was on her bare back, reminding him that Zabini too had touched her this way.
The jealousy returned, along with irrational anger.
He raised a variation of notice-me-not charm, preparing to get to the topic. And added a silencing ward just to be safe.
She matched his steps, spinning towards and away from him, pushing and pulling. "Thank you. But why are you angry? You seem ready to scream at me."
She had known him for years, so it wasn't difficult to guess his mood. Though she was confused by it. Why was he even angry? She didn't recall doing anything that would infuriate him.
As the song started slowing down, Harry released her hand and instead closed his arms around her. Tracey didn't mind, stepping closer and reciprocating the hug. But she was taken aback when he picked her up, bringing her face to his level.
"Tell me, do you love me or not?" he whispered, making her freeze.
Tracey wasn't naive enough to think that he was asking as a friend. Why was he doing this? Why was he reopening old wounds?
She gulped and averted her eyes, not knowing what to say. "It doesn't matter."
"It fucking does!" he hissed. She stiffened, his lips touching her earlobe. "You made me believe you loved me! You gave me hope that you'd be with me for all eternity! And here you are, frolicking with some other boy!"
Tracey was taken aback by the venom in his tone and spoke up warily, "What are you even talking about? We weren't ever a couple? Why are you acting like a jealous boyfriend who caught me cheating?"
"Because you love me! I knew you loved me. It was so obvious to me. I was waiting for a chance to talk about us. I was waiting for an opportunity to tell you that I love you too."
She was stunned by his confession, feeling the raw frustration in his voice. She hadn't known that. She didn't think Harry loved her too. She thought it had been one-sided. She had even waved it away as a silly crush to lessen the hurt. But here he was, telling her that he knew about her feelings and reciprocated them. Here he was, giving her hope.
She didn't know what to do. She had finally accepted that nothing would come out of loving Harry. She had finally decided to make a fresh start with another boy. But her heart pounded against his chest, and her lips spread in a wide, uncontrollable smile. While she had started liking Blaise since he became her partner in Potions' class, those feelings were nothing compared to what she harboured for Harry.
"But what about Daphne? Don't you love her?" Her growing smile halted before vanishing.
"I love Daphne. But I love you too. Listen, I need to explain many things before you can understand what I'm saying. Just give me a chance, okay?"
She shot him a disbelieving look. 'I love Daphne. But I love you too. What does that even mean?'
"What do you want me to do? Why are you even telling me this now?"
"I want you to refrain from becoming Zabini's girlfriend. I want you to first listen to me tomorrow. After that, I won't stop you from seeking a relationship with Zabini if you want," Harry explained, putting her down.
She furrowed her brows. "Fine. I'll do what you say. I don't know what's happening, but I don't want you to be so stressed tonight, so I'll trust you."
"Thank you," he said with a relieved smile, squeezing her and placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth, surprising her.
"Now, stop being gloomy and properly dance with me."
"As my lady commands," he said, dispelling the charm and the ward. He held her close to his chest and swayed along with the music. But soon, the classical music abruptly turned into loud rock music.
The cheers were resounding as the electric guitars blared. And the stage was quickly filled to the brim.
"Come on!" she yelled, grabbing his hands and jumping around madly.
He chortled, following her example, his heart far lighter than it was before this conversation.
They shared matching grins, abandoning the elegant duet moves and twisting and turning randomly. She laughed when her elbow accidentally struck his side. She yelped girlishly when he captured her in his arms and picked her up, carrying her away from the crazy crowd.
That night, Tracey rejected Blaise and broke his heart.
~xXxXx~
Harry hadn't forgotten that it was Christmas too. He hadn't forgotten that tonight he could use the [Create Skill] Perk. And he was eager to do so. This time, he knew what he wanted. A power that would help him finish a particular quest.
Skill Created:
[Clairvoyance]
— Shows the user path to his goal.
~xXxXx~
Bonus Scene
It was silent here, except for the sound of the rushing wind.
The stars and the moon were out. Then again, they were always out above the clouds.
The white skybed shone silver from the unobstructed light falling on it, looking divine and impossibly beautiful. They looked so fluffy that no one could resist trying to lay on them, even when they knew it was just a random mass of water vapour.
Suddenly, two arrows shot through them and hovered in the clear night sky, looking down at the hole they had made which quickly got filled in.
They weren't really arrows. They were humans. Immaculately dressed humans.
One wore a three-piece white suit, while the other wore a stunning black gown.
Their giggles replaced the silence, and they chased one another in the picturesque backyard of heaven.
Quickly, the boy grabbed the red-headed girl and whispered something to her.
The girl's emerald eyes shone in the moonlight, and she nodded enthusiastically.
Placing their arms around one another, they began dancing in the sky, over the never-ending silver skybed.
They danced to their own melody. They danced until they got tired. They danced until the girl was satisfied and asleep in the boy's arms.
Smiling softly, the boy carried her away.