The last week of term was dragging. Everyone was even more eager for the Christmas holidays than usual; hardly anyone fourth year or over would be going home, and the few younger students that had managed to snag invites to the ball. Harry watched the clock tick down on the last few minutes of Divination, completely ignoring Trelawney's lecture about… whatever it was she was talking about. Harry would happily admit he'd given up completely on Divination. As long as he checked which bit of the textbook they were at and filled his homework with lots of unfortunate mishaps and ominous predictions, he was making straight Os.
At last, the bell rang, and the entire class scrambled to their feet, making a mad dash for the trapdoor. Harry headed back to the tower with Parvati and Lavender, who were both discussing their dress robes. "Padma and I are wearing saris," Parvati told them, beaming. "Grandma sent them all the way from India. They're gorgeous." Parvati was going with Anthony Goldstein, and Harry was pretty sure Lavender was going with Seamus. Or maybe that fifth year Slytherin boy he'd seen her snogging in the library the other week. It was hard to keep track, sometimes.
"Do you have much family back in India, then?" Harry asked before he could help himself.
"Almost all of Papa's side of the family," Parvati confirmed. "We spend a month every summer out there, and sometimes Yule. We were supposed to go this year, but they understood when we wrote to say we were staying here."
"I wonder if I have any family in India," he mused, speaking more to himself than the girls. "Y'know, extended." He knew the Potters had been in and out of Britain since the 1600s, but Sirius said James' mother was born in India, so maybe he had family there.
"Have you ever been?" Lavender asked curiously. Harry snorted.
"Nope. I've never even left Britain. My relatives don't like me, remember?" The Dursleys would sooner cut their own limbs off than take him anywhere. "They like to pretend I'm just a bit tan."
Parvati grimaced, squeezing his shoulder sympathetically. "If you ever want to go, you can come stay with our family. The House of Patil would be honoured to host you."
That hit Harry with more emotion than he expected, and he faltered on the stairs for the briefest moment. "Thanks, Parvati." He imagined what it would be like, going to the place his family originated. He didn't speak the language, or know any of the culture or his own family history; it would probably be more embarrassing than insightful. Maybe he'd wait until he'd had the chance to raid the Potter vaults a bit, learn more about his heritage.
"I heard a rumour," Lavender drawled, bringing the conversation back to safer topics as they neared Gryffindor Tower, "that you, Harry, are going to the ball with Susan Bones. Care to comment?"
"It's true," he confirmed, and Parvati squealed halfway through giving the password, making the Fat Lady scowl at her.
"I knew Anthony wouldn't lie to me about that! That's really great, Harry; you two will look good together."
"We're just friends," Harry insisted. Both girls giggled.
"We know," Lavender chirped. "But that doesn't mean you can't make a great pair. And Sally-Anne is fuming, which is always a plus."
Harry frowned at that. "She doesn't— Sally-Anne doesn't fancy me or something, does she?" he asked in mild alarm. He didn't think the Hufflepuff girl even liked him — she was always glaring!
Both girls giggled, exchanging a look. "No," Parvati assured. "But, well— she's always been mean to Susan. As soon as the ball was announced she started saying that no one would ask Susan because she was too fat to get a date." That made both of them scowl, and Harry's eyes widened.
"That's awful!" He was now even more glad he'd asked Susan to go with him. Who the hell did Sally-Anne Perks think she was, saying such things?
"She's just jealous," Lavender huffed. "She thinks all the boys should fancy her because she's skinny. But Susan's way prettier and nicer. So now Sally-Anne's going with Wayne Hopkins, even though she really wanted to go with Roger Malone but he turned her down."
Parvati let out a quiet, wistful sigh at Roger's name — Harry knew the Ravenclaw boy was, according to many of the girls, the most attractive boy in their year. "Well I'm just glad Susan agreed to go with me," he said, not sure he wanted to get deeper into the gossip spiral. "I kept getting asked by girls I don't even know, it was weird!"
"You're a Triwizard champion," Parvati reminded him, grinning. "And unlike Cedric, you're actually single. Can you blame them for taking a chance?"
Harry managed a smile, even as something in his chest twisted painfully. He wasn't single, but he couldn't tell the girls that. Couldn't tell anyone.
The common room was fairly busy, and the two girls bid Harry goodbye to head up to their dorm and… he was pretty sure they said something about trying out hairstyles. Either way he left them to it, intending on heading up to put his books away and then go find the twins for a little light hexing of random floor tiles in the Entrance Hall. Instead, he paused when a voice called his name.
"Harry, can we talk for a minute?" Hermione and Ron were sat on the sofa in the corner, Hermione's brown eyes imploring. Ron didn't look thrilled to be there, but he wasn't actively glaring at Harry. Harry shrugged, changing course.
"What do you need?" he asked, sinking into the chair opposite. Hermione bit her lip.
"This has gone on long enough," she started. For a second, Harry thought she was going to confess to being a spy for Dumbledore. "I know the two of you have had… issues, this year, but really, you've been friends for far too long to let this silly tournament get in the way of that." Harry bit back a snort; if only it was just the tournament. "It's awful having the two of you fighting, and Harry I know I've been a bit short with you lately, and I apologise for that, but it's been hard, alright? I hate it, and I wish you two would just get over this and be friends again. Ronald, Harry very clearly did not put his name in the Goblet, and he needs your support, not your derision. Harry, you can't blame Ron for being a bit jealous sometimes; these things happen, and you shouldn't begrudge him his feelings."
Harry absolutely would begrudge him his feelings when those feelings made him be an arsehole, but he kept his mouth shut. He had never been able to stand up to Hermione when she brought out her sad voice, and maybe he had been a little hard on both of them lately. He was so worried about Dumbledore, he was seeing enemies everywhere, even in the two people who had been his best friends since he was eleven.
He wasn't saying they could go back to that again. His friendship group had expanded far too much for him to ever be happy with that insular little trio again. But maybe he could stop actively avoiding them, at least. That was probably a dick move on his part.
"Ron's being very silent in all this," he commented. Hermione shot the redhead a pointed glare. Ron looked like he was being forced to drink vinegar.
"I'm sorry I said what I said, about you putting your name in and everything," he muttered. He didn't sound particularly sorry. It was like watching a toddler being made to apologise by their mother. "I just… you get all this great stuff — you're school champion, you might win a thousand galleons, and that's on top of being Harry bloody Potter. And you don't even care."
"I don't want to be school champion," Harry retorted, trying not to get too angry with Ron while Hermione was sat there staring at him pleadingly. "I didn't ask for any of this. I don't know what I'd do with a thousand galleons. And mate, if you want a scar on your forehead, dead parents, and a target on your back, then by all means, go right ahead."
Ron blanched. Hermione winced. "Harry," she scolded. He shrugged, not remotely sorry.
"If he's willing to stop being a dick then I'm willing to speak to him again. But it'll take more than a half-hearted apology for me to actually forgive him."
"Hear, hear!" It was the twins, perching on the arms of Harry's chair with identical grins on their faces.
"You tell our prat brother, Harry. Look, can we borrow Hedwig for a bit?" George asked, ruffling Harry's hair absently.
"Yeah, no problem. She's been bored lately." With all his friends at Hogwarts, and the mirror to talk to Sirius and Remus, he didn't have much use for her save for the occasional letter to Mrs Frobisher, who was busy trying to get Skeeter banned from school grounds except for the tournament.
"Cheers, mate!" Fred beamed.
"What do you need Hedwig for?" Ron asked suspiciously. Both twins rolled their eyes. "George wants to take her to the Yule Ball," Fred deadpanned. "We're sending a letter, you thick git. And no, we're not telling you who. It's none of your business."
Harry wondered if it was anything he might know about. He'd have to ask later.
"Speaking of the Yule Ball, Harry, are you really going with Susan Bones?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Yeah," Harry said, shrugging. "Why is it such a big deal?"
"You're a champion," Fred reminded him. "You breathing is a big deal."
"You got a date yet, ickle Ronnikins?" George cooed. Ron's ears went red.
"No," he admitted begrudgingly.
"Better hurry up," Fred advised. "All the good ones will be gone soon."
"Who are you going with?" Ron tried to turn the tables on his brother. Harry rolled his eyes. Had he missed Fred disappearing off with Angelina every other day?
"Angelina," Fred replied, grinning.
"You actually got round to asking her, then?" Harry asked with raised eyebrows. Fred kept promising to do it, and then forgetting — too busy snogging, George insisted.
"Oh yeah," Fred realised. He glanced across the common room, where the three chasers were sat by the fire. "Oi, Angelina!" She looked up. "Wanna go to the ball with me?"
"Well that's romantic," Alicia muttered with a roll of her eyes. Katie giggled.
"Yeah, alright then," Angelina agreed, a smile tugging at her lips when she turned back to the other girls. Fred looked back at his brother, smug.
"See? Easy. Hop to it, Ronnie, or you'll have to go solo."
The twins left, no doubt headed to the Owlery, and Ron groaned, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. "I'm doomed," he declared. Harry snorted, sharing a look with Hermione.
"You'll figure it out," was his best attempt at being a supportive friend.
"So is Susan the reason you've been disappearing so much lately?" Hermione asked impishly. Harry looked at her curiously. "Ron said you've been out late a lot." Harry wondered what Ron was doing, to be noticing that. "Is she your secret girlfriend?"
"I don't have a secret girlfriend," Harry groused. "I don't have any sort of girlfriend." He desperately tried to keep the grin off his face. Draco was certainly not a girl, even if Harry did tease him for caring too much about his hair sometimes.
"We won't tell anyone," Hermione insisted.
"There's nothing to tell," Harry returned. "I don't have a girlfriend. It's none of your business where I go at night."
Hermione drew back, glancing into her lap. Harry wondered if he'd overstepped. "No," she said eventually. "No, I don't suppose we're back to there, yet."
Harry sighed, unsure what to say to her. There were so many landmines in their friendship these days, it was hard to say if it was worth trying to fix.
.-.-.-.
With only two days left of the term, Harry thought he'd be done having to avoid Professor Moody. The man was constantly trying to get him alone, to talk to him about the tournament, or classwork. There was something about him that made Harry's skin crawl, but he was running out of reasons to leave his presence without coming off as outright rude. He didn't want to get a detention over it; then he definitely wouldn't be able to avoid being alone with Moody. He was honestly surprised the man hadn't resorted to that yet.
If it got any worse, Harry was going to have to start keeping the map out at all times just to avoid the man. The only reason he didn't already was because he didn't want that magical eye catching sight of it. Dumbledore didn't know about the Marauder's Map, and Harry definitely wanted to keep it that way. At least the castle seemed to be on his side; staircases changing right when he needed them to, passageways that he was pretty sure hadn't existed five minutes before he needed them. Hogwarts was definitely trying to look after the Slytherin heir.
Hearing the familiar thunk-thunk of the man's wooden leg on the tile, Harry ducked into a passageway behind a false wall, cursing under his breath. The man was determined, he'd give him that!
.-.-.
At last, classes were over. Annoyingly, Snape was one of the only teachers who hadn't given up trying to actually teach the distracted students, setting a quiz on antidotes for the very last lesson. Harry had spent his whole detention after the Wand Weighing catching up on antidotes privately with Snape, though, so it was easy enough. He hurried out of the dungeons as soon as Snape dismissed them, wanting to get an order out to Flourish and Blotts before they closed for the weekend, having had the perfect idea for Remus' Christmas present. He hoped Hedwig was back from wherever the twins had sent her.
When he eventually got to the common room, after a detour to the kitchens for food — where apparently both Dobby and Winky had been hired? Who knew — he entered only to find Ron sat in a chair looking like he was about to be sick, Ginny hovering over him. The youngest Weasley seemed to be trying really hard not to laugh.
"What's the matter with him?" he asked. Ginny glanced up at him and smirked.
"He asked Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball."
Harry gaped. "He what?"
"I don't know why," Ron moaned. "What was I thinking? She was just stood there, talking to her friends — there were so many people watching — but I'd heard she didn't have a date and I just— it just happened!"
Ginny pat his arm sympathetically, biting her lip so hard Harry thought it might bleed. He sucked in his cheeks to stop from grinning.
"You'll find someone," he encouraged.
"What if I don't?" Ron's voice was full of despair. "I'll be the only one in our year without a date!" Was that really true? Harry was impressed at everyone's ability to pair up. "Except Neville, of course."
"Neville's got a date," Harry piped up, glancing at Ginny curiously. Hadn't she told him?
"What?" Ron groaned loudly. "Great! Just great. Even bloody Neville's going with someone, and I'm not. Who'd go with him, anyway?"
"Me." Ginny's ears were red, but it was with fury more than embarrassment. Harry was glad he wasn't the only one wanting to smack Ron for talking about Neville like that. "I'm going with Neville."
"What? But— what?" Ron didn't seem to know how to react to that.
"He asked me, I said yes. Neville's nice." Her voice dared him to argue.
The portrait hole opened, and Hermione walked in, eyeing the scene with confusion. "Why weren't you two at dinner?"
"Things to do," Harry replied vaguely.
"Ron got turned down for the Yule Ball," Ginny piped up, a little more viciously than she would have before Ron said something about Neville.
"Oh? Eloise Midgeon starting to look a little more attractive, now?" Hermione asked icily. "All the good-looking ones taken? I'm sure you'll find someone, somewhere who'll have you."
Ron scowled. Then his face did a bizarre 180 of emotions, staring up at Hermione in hopeful realisation. "Hermione. You're a girl."
"Really? I hadn't noticed."
"Well, you can just come with me, problem solved." Ron continued as if she hadn't spoken to him. Hermione huffed.
"Just because you didn't realise I'm a girl, doesn't mean no one else did. I already have a date." She was smiling the tiniest amount through her anger, and Harry eyed her in consideration. He had a sneaking suspicion who that might be; a suspicion that was all but confirmed when Hermione refused to tell Ron who it was.
"I need to find someone," Ron moaned desperately. Harry thought about it for a moment. Just about everyone he knew already had someone; Ron had left it a bit last-minute. If everyone in their year truly did have a date, that didn't leave many options.
"Hey, Ginny," he said eventually. "Did Luna stay for Christmas?" The blonde third year wasn't able to go unless one of the older students asked her. Harry hadn't spent much time with the Ravenclaw girl, but she seemed nice, if a little odd. Ginny liked her, which was enough for Harry.
Ginny pursed her lips. "She did, yeah. Said her dad's off in Hungary looking for… some sort of creature." She glanced down at her brother, then back up at Harry, starting to catch on. "Really?" She made a face. Harry shrugged.
"It'll get her to the ball." She didn't have to actually stay by Ron's side the whole time. Ron would get a date, Luna would get to come to the ball and hang out with Ginny, it was a win for everybody. Especially Harry, who wouldn't have to listen to Ron's griping about not being able to find anyone to go with for the rest of the holidays. "I'll ask her," Ginny agreed with a sigh. "Only so that Luna gets to come too." Ginny looked like she'd be perfectly happy to see her brother go alone to the Yule Ball. Harry was honestly right there with her — especially with Ron's awful dress robes. But it would be nice for Luna to have fun.
"There you go, Ron," Hermione said, tone still a little cold. "Problem solved."
Ron didn't look thrilled about potentially taking Luna Lovegood to the Yule Ball, but he kept his mouth shut. It was the smartest decision he'd made all day.
.-.-.-.
Luckily, Luna was happy to go with Ron to the ball, promising to owl her father to send her some dress robes before he left on his creature hunt. Ron was still sulking about it — Harry couldn't figure out if his problem was going with a third year, going with Luna specifically, or having had to be set up by his little sister just to get a date — but despite their tentative truce, Harry still didn't spend much time with the redheaded boy, so he didn't care.
The weekend before the ball was a Hogsmeade weekend, and Harry took the opportunity to go down and finish off his Christmas shopping. That was his hope, at least; he'd owl-ordered for most of his presents, but there were still a few people he hadn't found the perfect gift for yet. Draco being one of them.
The dilemma of what to get his boyfriend for Christmas was one that had been plaguing Harry for longer than they'd actually been dating. Even when they'd just been friends — and Harry had had a crush the size of Scotland — what did you get the boy whose parents could and would buy him anything he wanted?
He'd already thought of and then promptly discarded a dozen ideas. He wanted the present to mean something. He wanted it to be special. But what would be special to Draco Malfoy?
Harry was alone in the village, not wanting any of his friends to question who he was buying for, but there were crowds of Hogwarts students filling the streets. By the looks of it, Harry wasn't the only one who had left his shopping until the last second. Teenagers in various states of panic rushed past him, and Harry ducked into the nearest shop to avoid the press of people.
Draco wasn't the only person he had to buy for still. He still needed to get something for Susan to thank her for going to the ball with him, and… he wanted to buy something for Snape, too. He never thought he'd say that, but there he was. Snape was part of the family now, and Harry wanted to get him a Christmas present.
The shop he'd taken refuge in seemed to be a jewellery shop of some kind, and Harry looked around curiously. Draco might appreciate something shiny? Maybe? He shrugged helplessly to himself; it was worth a shot. Browsing the glass-fronted cases, Harry let his eyes trail over the pieces. Suddenly, his eyes landed on something. A small silver pendant of a curled up dragon, its body wrapped securely around a pale blue gemstone. His thoughts didn't turn to Draco; no, he was thinking of the boy's mother.
Perhaps it was cliché. Perhaps everyone gave Narcissa Malfoy dragon-related jewellery because of her son's name. But there was something about the necklace that just felt… right.
Harry glanced up at the middle-aged witch behind the register, offering a polite smile. "Excuse me? Could I take a closer look at this, please?"
If he was going to start ingratiating himself to the Malfoy matriarch, he'd better start early.
.-.
By lunchtime, Harry had secured presents for everyone except Draco. The necklace for Narcissa, a pair of pretty earrings for Susan shaped like shooting stars, and a journal for Snape that would automatically record the status and changes in a potion, for experimental purposes. His purchases were wrapped and stowed securely in his bag, and he decided to take a break and head to the Three Broomsticks.
That turned out to be a mistake, as the pub was packed so tight Harry could barely make it to the bar, so he ordered a sandwich to go and squeezed back out into the street, eating as he walked. He was pretty sure he'd been in every shop in the village, and he was still no closer to finding the perfect Christmas present for Draco. Looking through the window of a shop selling antiques, Harry was surprised to catch the reflection of a pair of tall redheaded figures. He turned, seeing the twins walking nearby, their heads ducked together and their faces serious. "Fred, George!" he called out to them, watching them both look up in alarm. They relaxed a little at the sight of Harry.
"Harrikins!" they greeted, changing course towards him.
"Fancy seeing you here. All alone, are we?"
"Getting up to mischief?" Fred smirked at him, wiggling his eyebrows, and Harry flushed.
"Christmas shopping," he replied evasively; there were too many people around for him to risk mentioning who he was shopping for. "What are you two doing out here?" They looked a bit shifty — well, shiftier than usual for the twins.
The pair shared a glance. "Bit of a long story, dear Harry," George said. Harry got the picture pretty quickly.
"I won't ask you any questions, you don't ask me any?" he suggested, watching the twins brighten up.
"See, this is why you're our favourite!" Fred declared, ruffling his hair. "Be safe, little brother! Watch out for any rogue reporters!" He winked, and the pair disappeared, leaving Harry alone once more.
Harry sighed to himself, eyes scanning the shops once more. This was his last chance to shop before Christmas — unless he got a very speedy owl order in — and he couldn't go back empty handed.
He grit his teeth, determined. It was his first Christmas with his boyfriend, and his present was going to be perfect. It had to be.
.-.-.-.
The Yule Ball was five days away, and Fleur Delacour had a problem.
"None of these boys are worth my time!" she declared at lunch, looking distinctly unimpressed. "'Ow am I supposed to look fantastique when all the available 'Ogwarts boys are… average at best?"
"I'll try not to be offended by that," Harry said lightly, and she jabbed him in the side.
"Two champions cannot attend togezzer, or I would 'ave asked you," she insisted. "But all the boys I 'ave considered are taken. I cannot believe Roger abandoned me so last-minute!"
Harry knew she wanted to go with a Hogwarts boy, to continue the theme of international magical cooperation. She had been going with Roger Davies, but then he'd realised that the Gryffindor seventh year girl he had a crush on actually liked him back and was willing to go with him, and he'd very apologetically told Fleur he had to change his mind. Harry couldn't believe Roger had turned down Fleur Delacour, but he supposed even Ravenclaws could be idiots sometimes.
"What kind of boy are you looking for?" he asked, knowing Fleur's standards were incredibly high. Perhaps there was a boy who could be persuaded to ditch their date last minute to go with a Triwizard champion.
"'E must be 'andsome," Fleur said, and Harry gave her a look that said 'obviously'. "I want 'im to be taller zan me. A good dancer. It would be nice if 'e spoke French, but not necessary."
Harry racked his brain, looking around the hall as if Fleur's perfect man might just appear out of thin air. As he glanced past the doors of the Great Hall, Cassius walked in, talking to Cedric. Harry froze, a slow smile creeping across his face. "Fleur, I'll be right back."
Harry sprinted across the hall, skidding to a halt in front of the two sixth years. "Cassius!" he greeted, and the Slytherin stared at him in confusion. "Do you have a date to the ball?"
"Aren't you going with Susan?" Cassius asked. Harry rolled his eyes.
"I'm not asking for me, you git," he muttered, though he did wonder what would happen if he turned up to the ball with Cassius Warrington on his arm. Draco would slaughter them both. "Do you have a date?"
"No," Cassius said. "I never really got around to asking anyone."
"Are you good at dancing?"
"Harry, I'm a Warrington." It was much the same tone Draco had replied with when Harry had asked a similar question, and Harry snickered. He eyed the older boy carefully; he was taller than Cedric. That would make him taller than Fleur, if only by a little. "Are you entirely opposed to the idea of having a date?" If Cassius wanted to go alone, Harry wouldn't force him, but it would be doing him a huge favour.
Cassius frowned doubtfully. "I mean, it would depend on the date? And I'd have to check with my, uh, someone."
"Since when did you have a someone?" Cedric cut in, looking amused. Cassius blushed.
"None of your business, Diggory," he muttered. Cedric laughed.
"Would that someone be okay with you being a shameless piece of entirely platonic arm candy for a very pretty girl who needs to look good for some pictures?" Harry hoped whoever Cassius was dating wasn't the possessive type. "I'll owe you one."
"I mean, probably?" Cassius shrugged. "I really don't understand where you're going with all this, Potter."
Harry reached out, grabbing Cassius by the wrist and tugging him towards the Gryffindor table. He dragged him right up to where Fleur was sat. "Fleur, this is Cassius Warrington," he introduced, though he was almost certain they'd met before. "Attractive, over six foot, an excellent dancer, and I'm pretty sure he speaks at least a little bit of French." It was the type of thing purebloods did, teach their kids foreign languages. Draco spoke three.
"You think I'm attractive?" Cassius' voice was quietly smug, and Harry ignored him.
He shoved Cassius down onto the bench, dropping down beside him. "Cassius, I believe you know Fleur Delacour. She's in need of a date to the Yule Ball."
Cassius blinked at him. "A very pretty girl who needs to look good for some pictures? Harry, you said nothing about it being a champion!"
"Oh, did I forget to mention that bit?" Harry replied innocently. Cassius kicked him beneath the table.
The Slytherin turned to Fleur, only looking a little bit like he thought she might eat him alive. "I'm not single," he warned her, and she laughed.
"I am not looking for a boyfriend," she assured. "Just a dance partner. May I?" She got to her feet, and Cassius did the same. Fleur manhandled him into dance hold, looking contemplative. She had to tilt her head up a little bit to look him in the eye, and after a beat, she gave a decisive nod. "You will do quite nicely." Fleur released him, stepping back with a disarming smile. "Would you go to the ball wiz me?"
"I— absolutely, yeah," Cassius agreed, nodding. "I… what colour are you wearing? Do I need to change my dress robes?"
"I will meet you tomorrow after breakfast and we shall compare," Fleur said. "If that is acceptable?"
"Works for me. I've got to go — I was trying to persuade Cedric to help me with a… thing. I'll see you both later?"
They bid him goodbye and Cassius left, still looking vaguely bewildered by the turn of events. Fleur threw an arm around Harry's neck, kissing him on the cheek.
"You are a lifesaver, 'Arry!" she declared in delight. "I 'ad assumed a boy wiz a face like zat would already 'ave a date."
"Cassius is full of surprises," Harry agreed, making a mental note to interrogate the boy about his mysterious paramour at the earliest opportunity. "Glad I could help, Fleur."
All four champions now had dates to the ball. At least, he assumed so — Viktor had yet to tell them who he was going with, but he insisted he had it covered. Harry had a pretty good idea what that meant.
It was certainly going to be an interesting night.