Harry let out a weary yet contented sigh as he stepped back into the Gryffindor common room. The Yule Ball, much like any extended social occasion, had been exhausting. Still, the latter part of the evening spent in the gardens with Draconica had been a welcome escape from the strict social norms they were generally expected to follow.
Yet, a moment later, his eyes caught sight of Katie, casually leaning against the wall near the portrait hole. The brunette looked even more radiant than usual in her light-blue dress robes, seemingly waiting for someone. Harry quickly realized that someone was him when Katie looked up, straightening her posture.
"Harry! I know the ball is over, but I couldn't find you there... Could I have just one dance with you?" Her wide, pleading eyes made it difficult for the green-eyed wizard to refuse. "Just one..." she added softly, her voice carrying an unspoken certainty that he would agree. With a resigned sigh, Harry extended his hand to her.
"Milady, may I have the honor of sharing this next dance with you?" Katie responded with a radiant smile as she accepted his hand. Somehow sensing that she was now in charge, she led them to a spacious, furniture-free corner of the common room. Absentmindedly, Harry recalled that less than a year ago, this very corner had witnessed the end of his relationship with Ms. Bell—an ending that hadn't been pleasant.
With a flick of her wand, Katie turned on the Wizarding Wireless and tuned into a Yuletide concert. Satisfied, she put her wand away, teasing Harry with the way she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into the dance as he snapped out of his daze.
~/ *** \~
Draconica's arrival in the Slytherin common room was somewhat less cheerful. It seemed her younger brother, Basilius, remained convinced that friendliness with anyone outside of Slytherin was akin to treason. If he were the only one with such narrow-minded views, things might have been easier. Unfortunately, others shared his sentiment, believing that Gryffindors, Mudbloods, and blood-traitors were the source of all evil.
"So, it looks like we have a blood-traitor in our midst." Draconica couldn't identify who uttered the words, but she immediately recognized her brother's smirk and the small group of like-minded students gathered around him. They believed they could reprimand her for attending the ball with Harry. Almost instantly, however, they found themselves outnumbered by those who saw nothing wrong with her actions.
"Mhm? So, is it now considered a blood-traitor act to attend the ball with the only lord— not just an heir— among my peers? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're just jealous," she said softly, ensuring her voice carried to all present. It was both a clever retort and a subtle jab at those who presumed they were her superiors.
At this moment, Harry was indeed the only 'ringed' lord among the students of Hogwarts, and while house Potter was merely a noble family, it had a long and respected history even among the blood purists. Some of them had grudgingly accepted Lily Evans as a worthy lady, recognizing her incredible prowess; there was no way she could just be a simple muggleborn in their eyes. For a split second, Draconica entertained the thought of revealing that Harry was also the current Lord Slytherin. But she dismissed it—until he chose to disclose it, that was his secret to share.
"Well, if you have nothing of substance to say, I'll be on my way," she declared after the silence stretched uncomfortably, turning her back on the crowd and heading toward the dormitories. With her hand hovering near her wand, she was prepared to defend herself should anyone decide to retaliate, though she doubted anyone would dare.
"Father will hear about this!" Basilius shouted, unable to accept the outcome and trying desperately to manipulate her with their father's authority. As if that would ever sway her.
"Of course, he will," Draconica replied dismissively. She fully expected her brother to write a whining letter to their father, complaining about her 'misbehavior' that evening. But there was little their father could do—at worst, she might only receive a reprimand to adhere to her family's expectations. With another roll of her shoulders, the Malfoy heiress strode toward her room in the dungeon.
~/ *** \~
The following morning, the events of the Yule Ball—especially one certain pairing—dominated the Hogwarts gossip mill. Given how Harry and Draconica had kept their relationship discreet, many wondered why they had attended the ball as partners. If they were merely friends, what explained the intensity of their dances?
Speculative theories abounded, ranging from plausible to outright ludicrous. Some even correctly guessed they were an item, but that theory was quickly overshadowed by another stating that Draconica had used love potions on Harry to win his affections for the evening. There were even accusations suggesting Harry had resorted to Amortentia to get his date—silliness that had Harry stifling laughter as he listened to their outrageous speculations.
The arrival of the 'Daily Prophet' at breakfast only added fuel to the fire. Though the Yule Ball was the edition's main feature, Harry was puzzled by how they had managed to procure photographs without reporters present. Still, the second page contained an article that was far more alarming.
"We all remember well how the last Potter, using dark magic, deceived everyone into believing he was the chosen one, exploiting that name to enrich himself while forcing laws to serve his own agenda, leaving our true savior to live a life far below his station. Thankfully, our esteemed Chief Warlock Dumbledore exposed this evil plot, and Potter had to retreat.
Unfortunately, dear readers, it appears the vile Potter is at it again, seeking to rob the prominent and well-respected Malfoy family by ensnaring their only daughter with his nefarious charms..."
The article continued for half a page, portraying Harry as the epitome of evil. It seemed Rita Skeeter had decided to unleash her pent-up wrath on him after being restrained in her sensationalism.
Fortunately, Harry had anticipated such backlash and was confident that within twenty-four hours, Mr. L. Bridget would demand a retraction along with significant compensation from the 'Daily Prophet.' But until then, he knew he'd face a deluge of negative attention at school.
To mitigate the fallout, especially for Draconica, who was unaccustomed to being at the center of such attention, Harry devised a plan. They would be seen together throughout the day as friends, which would diminish claims of love potions affecting their dance. Draconica readily agreed when he explained it post-breakfast.
Unsure of how best to spend the day, Harry suggested a picnic. While the idea of a winter picnic might seem absurd, he, Draconica, and their friends enjoyed the sunny weather as they sat on a carpet provided by the castle's elves, overlooking the Black Lake. Thanks to warming charms, they could shed their bulky winter cloaks comfortably.
As he had hoped, seeing them together in such a casual setting made many reconsider the 'Prophet's' sensational claims. Numerous spectators concluded that Rita Skeeter was simply fabricating her stories. After all, if love potions had been involved, the two would be either infatuated with each other or at odds, not sitting together, pleasantly conversing.
The impromptu picnic also inspired many other students, including Beauxbatons and Durmstrang visitors, to join in the fun. By lunchtime, Harry noticed at least seven other groups scattered across the hillside, all partaking in their own 'picnics.'
~/ *** \~
Regrettably, only those within Hogwarts witnessed the 'Daily Prophet's' lies about Harry. As a result, during an unusual evening mail delivery, he received around a hundred pieces of hate mail, including several howlers. Those who recognized the nature of those red envelopes hurried to shield their ears for the impending verbal storm.
However, Harry disrupted the howlers by casting an animation-canceling charm as soon as possible. After all, howlers were forms of animated magic with a minor ward to prevent interference. A piece of parchment could only contain a ward of limited strength, allowing a powerful charm to negate the shouting letters.
Stopping the howlers garnered Harry self-respect and admiration from students across three schools. Had Professor McGonagall not intervened, the Weasley twins would have put on quite a show, begging him to teach them that charm.
Meanwhile, Harry focused on sorting through the piles of letters he'd received. Knowing Rita Skeeter's readers well, he expected at least a few letters to contain nasty surprises. Even if there weren't any, being cautious never hurt. Unfortunately, many of the letters confirmed his suspicions: out of forty-three pieces, four would certainly interest the DMLE.
Setting those aside and ensuring they remained untouched, Harry incinerated the remaining letters with a flick of his wand, reducing them to ashes—none of those were from anyone of significance. Once done, he transferred the dangerous envelopes into a silken bag he had on hand from his horcrux hunts. But he knew it was too early to seal it and send it off to the DMLE—more nasty letters could arrive tomorrow.
~/ *** \~
The next morning, the 'Daily Prophet' published a retraction of the previous day's article about Harry, clearly pressured by L. Bridget to confirm facts before publication. Yet, those with keen eyes could detect that the management felt no genuine remorse; rather, they regretted the financial loss incurred from the compensation owed to Harry.
Alarmingly, this was not the first time Rita Skeeter's sensationalism had harmed the newspaper, and it was likely her contract had been terminated. Many prominent figures in Britain's magical community breathed a sigh of relief, no longer fearing they might become her next target.
Alongside the 'Prophet,' Harry received several letters from the morning owls. Most consisted of the hate mail that didn't arrive by dinner the previous evening (thankfully, none carried any hidden surprises), but there was also a letter from Violet, detailing her and her father's success in dealing with the 'Daily Prophet.' Additionally, another letter from Gringotts confirmed a transfer of twenty-five thousand galleons to the Potter vault. Lastly, there were two letters from Lord Malfoy: one addressed to Harry Potter and the other to his alias, Hadrian Slytherin.
Stealing a glance at the Slytherin table, he watched as Malfoy's eagle-owl delivered a letter to Draconica while her bratty little brother smirked with self-satisfaction. Clearly, that letter contained their father's thoughts on her choice of partner for the Yule Ball. But if it held anything of importance, Harry had no doubt Draconica would share it later. He had his own letters from Lucius to decipher.
Since the weather was much less inviting than the previous day—a cold north-eastern wind made it uncomfortable to be outdoors for long—Harry quickly visited the owlery to send off the dangerous letters to the DMLE before deciding to head to the library. Halfway there, however, he changed his mind and made his way to the arched windows overlooking the castle yard, where he had spent the morning before the Yule Ball.
About half an hour later, Draconica found him there.
"So... your father sent you a letter too?" she asked, glancing at the envelopes he held. Harry nodded in acknowledgment.
"Yes, two, in fact." After shifting slightly to make room for her to sit beside him, he added, "In the one addressed to me as Harry Potter, he's furious that a 'lowly half-blood bastard' like me dared to invite you to the ball... I'm tempted to remind him that, despite my youth, I'm still a lord of equal standing, and his disrespect reflects poorly on the Malfoy family's manners. What do you think?"
"You probably should," Draconica replied after a moment of thought. "But take care with your wording: he's known for being short-tempered towards those he considers beneath him. You could provoke him into something nasty."
Nodding, Harry continued, "At the same time, the letter addressed to me as Hadrian Slytherin, practically begs me to marry you before you succumb to my 'Potter influence...'"
A sudden, mischievous sparkle ignited in Draconica's eyes, heralding a playful thought. With a swift, graceful motion, she straddled him, wrapping her hands around his left arm and pressing it against her alluring figure. Drawing herself closer until their noses nearly brushed, she leaned in and purred into his ear, "So, am I corrupted enough?"
Without needing to articulate a response, Harry's body betrayed him, giving Draconica all the answers she sought.