From the moment the Yule Ball was announced, Draconica was certain that Harry would ask her to be his date. She couldn't imagine going with anyone else, even though she knew her father wouldn't approve. At least she'd have to convince him it was all part of giving the Malfoy name a positive spin; after all, she'd be one of the few to open the ball.
With her 'justification' ready in her mind, 'Nica started preparing for the event, determined to leave everyone speechless. Thankfully, the task wasn't too daunting as she had received a very special dress robe for her birthday—one that could change color with a simple charm. She just needed to coordinate with Harry to ensure they matched. Beyond that, she wanted to make sure they could dance flawlessly together, and she was pretty sure the Chamber of Secrets would be a perfect place for their practice.
Meanwhile, Harry was impressed by how the professors managed to keep the student body in line—mostly—and still focused on their studies in the week leading up to the Yule Ball. Almost everyone was preoccupied with the event, himself and his friends included. For Neville and Hermione, their newfound relationship was also something to explore.
Amid all the excitement, Harry and Draconica found it ridiculously easy to sneak into the Chamber unnoticed for their private dance practices. Drawing from Tom's memories and his own studies of pureblood customs, Harry felt confident in his dancing skills, but the practice had significantly improved him. Draconica agreed, and during their last practice—on the final day before the ball—she decided they should 'practice' several rounds of the 'horizontal tango' as well.
Of course, Harry was not solely focused on dancing in the days leading up to the ball. As a Gryffindor with a Slytherin date, he knew some of the more prejudiced members of both houses would have something to say, so he prepared a 'pretext' to explain his choice of 'Nica as his partner.
He also sent an owl to Violet, instructing her to keep an eye on the media in case they tried to stir up any scandal surrounding the ball. In the same letter, he inquired about the progress on gathering evidence against Dumbledore and the champions' collective lawsuit against the Triwizard tournament organizers for withholding vital information.
---
Surprisingly, Christmas morning passed quietly. Sure, some students were still scrambling to find dates for the ball, but their concerns were easily ignored. Tuning out the girls fretting about their dress robes was more challenging, but nothing Harry couldn't manage. His mind was preoccupied with a letter from Violet that he'd received that morning.
The blonde barrister confirmed his suspicions: the Ministry of Magic was stalling the lawsuit against them. Despite the efforts of the three barristers representing the champions, the Ministry was proving effective in delaying. However, Ms. L Bridget believed it wouldn't be much longer before they could proceed.
On Dumbledore's situation, Violet noted that if anyone else were in his shoes, they would be facing disgrace with the evidence they had collected. But, as Dumbledore was idolized by the public, she was uncertain if they had enough to unseat him from any of his significant positions, let alone all three.
Harry shook his head, tucking the parchment into his robe's inner pocket. The news might not have been encouraging, but Violet was doing her best, and that reassured him.
With no classes that day and beautiful weather, most Hogwarts students enjoyed a massive snowball fight outside. Harry chose to catch up on his extracurricular reading instead, something he had neglected recently.
Sitting on a magically warmed windowsill overlooking the courtyard, he delved into one of Salazar's handwritten tomes on healing potions. Before long, Draconica joined him with a steaming cup of hot chocolate cradled in both hands. She settled on the other side of the windowsill, sipping her drink daintily.
Their tranquil moment was short-lived. Once 'Nica finished her drink, she handed her empty cup to a house elf and sought Harry's attention, playfully distracting him from his reading. After a few minutes of her antics, he decided to engage, bookmarking his page and pulling her onto his lap, tickling her mercilessly.
"What's gotten into you?" Harry asked, once they'd both settled into a more comfortable position. He resumed his half-sitting position on the windowsill, with Draconica resting her head on his chest.
"It's Christmas, Harry," she said lazily. "You shouldn't lock yourself away with an old book on a day like this." He moved his hand from the book's cover, sliding it gently against her flat stomach, stopping just below her breasts. It was a public space, and besides, the blonde would want more than he was willing to give right now, particularly as he was still slightly annoyed at the interruption.
"Oh, don't worry. We'll have plenty of fun tonight at the ball." He replied. "Speaking of which, any thoughts on how to fill our afternoon? How about some last-minute dancing practice?" He received an eager nod from Draconica.
---
Aside from glimpsing the Great Hall's decorations and enjoying a couple of hours of slow dancing in the Chamber of Secrets with Draconica, Harry's afternoon was relatively calm. However, at half-past four, she had to return to the Slytherin common room to prepare for the ball, which kicked off with a feast at seven. Harry, after seeing her off, made his way back to the Gryffindor tower, knowing that as a boy, he didn't require two hours to don his dress robes, affording him extra time for his reading.
At six o'clock, he set his book aside, realizing it was time to prepare himself for the ball. As a champion, he needed to be ready before the clock struck seven. His attire—a deep bottle-green mix of wizarding robes and muggle suit—wasn't overly complicated, and he managed to get dressed with time to spare. He looked quite good in it, boosting his self-esteem, particularly when some of his classmates struggled more than he did—Ron's robe was reminiscent of a dress more than actual robes, and his attempts to rectify the situation only made it worse.
Not wanting to waste any more time watching Ron's battle with his robes, Harry left the Gryffindor tower and headed towards the entrance hall. He was intercepted by Professor Vector, who led him to a designated corner for the tournament champions, where Cedric was conversing with his date, Ravenclaw fifth-year Cho Chang. Leaning against the wall, Harry settled in to wait for Draconica.
A few minutes later, the entire Beauxbatons delegation swept through the castle's front doors, led by Madam Maxime and Fleur. Professor Vector greeted them, exchanging words with the French champion. After nodding to the Hogwarts professor, Mademoiselle Delacour separated from her classmates and joined Harry and Cedric in the 'champions' corner'.
Just as the last Beauxbatons students entered the Great Hall, the Slytherin students began filtering in from the dungeons, but Harry couldn't find Draconica amid the crowd. His worry was short-lived, though, as Professor Bubbling escorted her to the 'champions' corner'.
"You look stunning tonight, milady," Harry told her after admiring her attire—a lovely malachite-green dress accentuated by two delicate druidic braids framing her face. He took her hand and kissed the back of her palm.
"And you look dashing yourself, my lord," Draconica replied, stepping up beside him.
As the ball was set to begin, the Durmstrang students arrived, led by Headmaster Karkarov. Professor Vector caught Victor and directed him to the other champions. Assessing the situation, Harry realized that he and Draconica looked the best together; Krum's formal Durmstrang uniform clashed with Fleur's soft blue gown, while Cedric's deep blue suit was at odds with Cho's vibrant pink robes.
His thoughts were interrupted by the professors ushering the rest of the students into the Great Hall—the ball was about to commence. Soon, Professor McGonagall approached the champions and instructed them to form pairs with their partners and follow her into the hall.
Inside, the Great Hall was adorned with sparkling silver frost, and the starry black ceiling was intertwined with garlands of mistletoe and ivy. Instead of the usual house tables, smaller lantern-lit tables adorned the space, each seating about a dozen people. Professor McGonagall led them to a large round table at the top, where the headmasters and the judges were seated.
The evening began with a feast, unlike any Harry had experienced before. Each guest received a menu from which they could order whatever dishes caught their fancy. While much appreciated, Harry couldn't help but think how much extra work that must've caused for the house-elves. As everyone ate, the three champions began sharing their respective schooling experiences.
At one point, Headmaster Karkarov interjected, reminding Victor to keep the details brief; the man seemed worried that outsiders might guess Durmstrang's location. This sparked a discussion among the headmasters about safeguarding their respective legacies. Percy Weasley, attending in place of Barty Crouch Sr., ignored Ludo Bagman's attempts to engage him in conversation about the tournament's potential winners.
Once dinner concluded, the ball itself began. The large central area of the Great Hall transformed under golden light, while lanterns on the tables dimmed. Harry extended his hand to Draconica, inviting her to join him. The other pairs followed suit, and they moved to the dance floor. With a wave of Dumbledore's wand, the music commenced.
Though Harry had practiced waltzing with 'Nica many times in private, dancing under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes was a different challenge altogether. The worst distractions came from the glaring stares of Dumbledore's 'chosen one' and the young Malfoy heir, both of whom were displeased with Harry and Draconica's pairing. Still, the antagonism was easy to ignore, and they continued to glide across the dance floor.
As the opening dance wrapped up, the trio of pairs received polite applause from the audience, and others joined them on the dance floor as faster music resumed. Harry and 'Nica exchanged bright smiles, adjusting their holds for the new rhythm as they began twirling around the hall once more. With everyone engaged in the festivities, the pressure of being observed began to lift, allowing them to lose themselves in each other as they sank into a more passionate, though still respectful, version of the current dance.
Unfortunately, their intimate bubble burst when the music stopped. They became conscious of their close proximity, and despite their flushed faces, they didn't immediately break away, opting instead to slowly create a (very short) distance.
Harry glanced around. They had found themselves among older students from whom neither he nor Draconica recognized. A familiar face caught his eye—Theodore Nott dancing with an exceptionally recognizable girl.
"Mhm, isn't that Tori over there?" he asked Draconica, who had already detected the same pair.
"Yeah, Daphne insisted Theodore bring Astoria to the ball as his date." Harry suspected there was more to that tale, but didn't pry. After a short pause, Draconica continued, "You should ask Tori to dance," she said, a teasing glint in her eyes. Harry raised an eyebrow, surprised by her suggestion, yet she continued, "And I'm sure Hermione would appreciate a dance as well. Just be sure to save the last one for me, okay?" With a playful smile, she turned and strolled towards the punch table.
Sighing lightly, Harry headed over to where the younger Greengrass sister was. Upon arrival, he greeted Theodore with a nod, which the other boy returned.
"Heir Nott," Harry began, momentarily annoyed by the formalities. "Would you mind if I borrow this fine young lady for a dance?" Before Theodore could respond, he found himself engulfed in the joyful embrace of a very happy dark-haired girl. The two boys exchanged an understanding glance before Theodore nodded.
"Looks like I don't have a choice here," he said lightly. Gratefully, Harry twirled Astoria, and they found their rhythm with the rest of the dancing crowd.
Mercifully, Draconica was spared from her younger brother's impending lecture as he stormed toward her, filled with disdain over her choice of date. Behind him, his betrothed, Pansy Parkinson, looked equally displeased, wishing she were out dancing instead.
"What do you think you're doing with that half-blood? It's a disgrace to—" Basilius fumed. Unmoved, Draconica hardly acknowledged him, amused at how he lacked both subtlety and cunning, qualities one would expect from a Slytherin. Did he lack the depth of ambition, or was he simply a spare who didn't fit in anywhere else? Unlike many others in the house, she understood that a Hufflepuff was not merely a leftover.
"Well, dear brother…" Draconica began softly. She had pigeonholed his frustration well. "Shining brightly among those few opening the ball tonight is the perfect way to promote Malfoy House, don't you think? Besides, Lord Potter has proven to be quite the charming date, and so far, he hasn't left me wanting."
Finishing her drink in a single gulp, she turned and walked away, signalling to him that their conversation was over. His threats to inform their father about her affiliations fell on deaf ears.
After parting with the Greengrass sisters—after sharing a dance with Astoria and then with Daphne, who joined them—the young Potter allowed himself to wander the Great Hall. This distracted meandering didn't last long. He soon spotted Neville and Hermione sitting at a table, resting between dances.
While it was easy to recognize Neville, Harry stared for several seconds in disbelief at how pretty Hermione had become. The normally bushy-haired girl had tamed her unruly locks into a sleek style, paired with a lovely pale-blue dress that was worlds apart from her typical attire.
"Man, Neville, you're quite the lucky bloke," Harry said as he took a seat next to them. Though he had grown braver in recent years, Neville still blushed crimson, mumbling unintelligibly. Harry let it slide.
"Hi there, guys. Enjoying yourselves?" he asked, receiving a positive response from both. They engaged in light conversation as the music softened.
"Neville, would you mind if I danced with your lady for a moment?" Harry inquired. Although Neville was possessive in a good-natured way, he nodded.
"Only for you, Harry," he said. Acknowledging the response, Harry offered his hand to Hermione.
"Milady, may I have the honor of sharing the next dance with you?" Hermione chuckled nervously at his formality but accepted his hand nonetheless.
"It would be my pleasure, Harry," she replied.
Just as they finished the dance and traversed back toward Neville, they crossed paths with Ronald Weasley, who was clearly in a foul mood, and he immediately snapped at the two of them:
"What are you doing with the traitor, Granger? Get away from him before he corrupts you with his slimy evilness!" Upon looking more closely at Hermione's hand in Harry's grasp, which left little room for doubt about their friendship, he seethed, "No! You're already corrupted by his dark ways!" He redirected his rage at Harry, "How dare you turn Hermione against her friends, Potter! You don't belong in Gryffindor!" He continued ranting, but left plenty of room for Harry to retaliate.
That was when Hermione, clearly fed up with the incessant diatribe, sent a stinging hex at Ron to silence him, preparing herself to unleash her own 'piece of mind.' Harry gently squeezed her hand to calm her down.
"Don't waste your breath arguing with idiots, Hermione. It doesn't suit a lady of your caliber," he advised. Next, he directed a hard glare at Ron. "Whatever your problem is..."—which Harry didn't need to elaborate on, knowing the supposed 'chosen one' harbored deep-seated animosity towards Slytherins—"you shouldn't use it as an excuse to ruin this lady's night."
For a drawn-out moment, Ron and Harry simply glared at each other, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. But as Harry remained unfazed, Ron eventually stormed away, radiating anger. With everything settled, Harry and Hermione exchanged glances before he spoke once more...
"Well…" he finally broke the silence. "I suppose I've borrowed you from Neville long enough. Let's not keep him waiting any longer." Hermione nodded, a grateful smile gracing her lips, as Harry guided her back to Neville.
Having ensured that Hermione was safely back with Neville, Harry figured it was high time to track down Draconica. Even though there was still plenty of time until the last dance, he felt it had already been too long away from her. Scanning nearby tables yielded no sign of her, and wandering through the Great Hall proved equally fruitless. Most likely, she had retreated to the specially created rose garden out back.
Passing through the open front doors, Harry stepped into the magical garden, aglow with fluttering fairy lights twinkling among majestic rose bushes, ornate stone statues, and winding paths. The soothing sound of splashing water suggested a nearby fountain, while a few couples dotting the landscape were engrossed in each other, some entirely hidden by bushes in the far corner.
Ignoring the couples, Harry continued his search until he finally spotted his beautiful date sipping punch serenely on one of the gaudy benches hidden within the rose bushes. Almost sensing his presence, Draconica looked up with captivating blue-gray eyes and smiled, shifting to give him room beside her.
Without a word—none were necessary—Harry returned her smile and took a seat. She leaned her head against him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. They settled comfortably into each other's warmth.
Harry noticed that despite everything, the music from the Great Hall flowed into their private alcove, sparking a thought. He waited for the current dance to finish before gently removing his arm from her waist and rising to his feet.
"Milady?" he said, extending his hand toward her. Draconica raised an eyebrow, silently questioning him. Understanding his intent, she set down her drink and accepted his invitation.
As the music began anew, a soft smile spread across her face. The moment their bodies aligned, they seamlessly fell into position and began to dance, moving gracefully across the paved garden path.
In their little world—surrounded only by roses, fairy lights, and the distant sound of music—Harry and Draconica surrendered to the intimate atmosphere, their dance becoming more passionate and magnetic. As the music reached its climax, he drew her closer, their bodies fitting snugly together, hands wrapped firmly as they locked in a heated kiss. It lingered until they eventually pulled apart, gasping for air while their cheeks flushed with warmth. They held gazes, locked in a moment that felt timeless. With hearts racing, they leaned in for a softer, yet equally intense kiss, continuing to explore the depths of their connection.