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| LATE NIGHT DANCING |
song: say yes to heaven by lana del rey.
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"POTTER! WEASLEY! WILL YOU PAY ATTENTION? AND BLACK, stop levitating your things!"
Professor McGonagall's irritated voice cracked like a whip through the Transfiguration class on Thursday; Ara lifted her head from her palm to look over at her as she lowered her wand and Harry and Ron both jumped and looked up.
It was the end of the lesson; they had finished their work; the guinea fowl they had been changing into guinea pigs had been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGonagall's desk (Neville's still had feathers); they had copied down their homework from the blackboard ("Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches"). The bell was due to ring at any moment, and Harry and Ron had been having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George's fake wands at the back of the class, while Ara had been levitating her belongings due to boredom.
"Now that Potter, Black, and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age," said Professor McGonagall, with an angry look at the three of them as Ara's things dropped on her desk — "I have something to say to you all.
"The Yule Ball is approaching — a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialise with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above — although you may invite a younger student if you wish —"
Lavender Brown let out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry. Professor McGonagall ignored them.
"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then —"
"Will there be Firewhiskey—?"
"No, Black!"
Professor McGonagall stared strictly at Ara, who just gave her a cheeky smile as she cocked her head to the side, and gave an exasperated sigh as she addressed the class again.
"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to — er — let our hair down," she said, in a disapproving voice.
Lavender giggled harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. Ara could see what was funny this time: Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense.
"But that does not mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."
The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.
Professor McGonagall called above the noise, "Potter — a word, if you please."
Assuming this had something to do with his headless rubber haddock, Harry proceeded gloomily to the teacher's desk, as Ara waited for him by the door, twirling her wand, "Potter, the champions and their partners —"
"What partners?" said Harry.
Professor McGonagall looked suspiciously at him, as though she thought he was trying to be funny.
"Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter," she said coldly. "Your dance partners."
Harry's insides seemed to curl up and shrivel.
"Dance partners?" He felt himself going red. "I don't dance," he said quickly.
"Oh yes, you do," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball."
"I'm not dancing," he said. He'd had a sudden mental image of himself in a top hat and tails, accompanied by a girl in a frilly dress.
"It is traditional," said Professor McGonagall firmly. "You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Potter."
"But — I don't —"
"But if you really don't know how to dance," Professor McGonagall averted her eyes towards the door. "I know who could be able to teach you. Black!"
Ara looked up and stopped fidgeting with her wand, pocketing it, and strutting her way over to them, a teasing smirk creeping in as she laid her hands on the Professor's desk.
"Going to be my date for the ball Minnie?" Ara charmed, jokingly fluttering her eyelashes.
"No, Black, I was hoping you could teach Potter here the basics of dancing," said Professor McGonagall and Ara's eyebrows drew in. "He claims to be inexperienced."
"And you think I'm gonna be any better?" Ara said though she knew perfectly well that she could hold her own on the dance floor.
"Well Sirius Black was rather good at it," McGonagall gave her a pointed look. "I'm sure you inherited some of his talent."
"How do you know he was a good dancer—?"
"You will teach Potter, no exceptions," said Professor McGonagall in a very final sort of way.
"Alright then," Ara shrugged. She didn't mind the prospect of having to teach Harry, in fact, she was sure she'd enjoy their lessons. "Rest assured he's in very capable hands."
"I do wish you good luck, Potter," McGonagall sighed, and Harry turned his head to hide his smile.
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IT WAS THE FIRST TIME ARA HAD SEEN SO MANY PEOPLE STAY IN THE CASTLE FOR THE WINTER HOLIDAYS. This year, everyone in the fourth year and above seemed to be staying, and they all seemed to be obsessed with the coming ball — or at least most of the girls were. They would be giggling and whispering in the corridors, shrieking with laughter as boys passed them, excitedly comparing notes on what they were going to wear on Christmas night.
"So, what colour is your dress, 'Mione? You haven't shown it to me!" Ara said as she and Hermione walked side by side, a little ahead of Harry and Ron, who were conversing in hushed whispers.
"Well, you haven't either!" Hermione said before smiling. "But it's periwinkle, yours?"
"Red," Ara grinned, adjusting Little Women under her arm. "And honestly, maybe it's best if we don't see each others' dresses, let it be a surprise—"
"Why do they have to move in packs?" Harry's voice cut off her sentence as a dozen or so girls walked past them, sniggering. "How're you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?"
"Oh, they're hopeless," Hermione whispered before giving Ara a departing smile, "sorry to leave you with them."
"It's alright, I'll manage," Ara chuckled as Hermione left her side, going over to her Arithmancy class. Ara turned to Harry and Ron as she slowed down her pace, "Just ask them. It's really not that hard."
"Easier said than done," Ron said. He glanced at Harry. "Got any idea who you're going to try?"
Ara's heart skipped a beat as her eyes momentarily focused on Harry before she cleared her throat and busied herself, opening her bag and packing up her book, taking longer than necessary. There was something inside her that wished he'd say her name. As friends, of course. Nothing more, nothing less.
At Ron's question, Harry's eyes travelled towards the girl he had at his side, she was still messing around with her book bag as she blew away a strand of her face which had fallen on her face. Ara, he said in his mind, but his mouth remained tightly closed. How would Ron feel if Harry suddenly asked his sister to be his date for the ball? Even if it was strictly platonic? They had just made up, and Harry didn't want to spark up the fire again. But maybe he wouldn't mind. . .
No. Harry shook his head. Ara probably wouldn't go with him anyway, she'd probably want a break from seeing his face every day. She would most likely be the life of the party and he'd be sitting there, watching. Her night would be boring if she went with him.
"Listen, you're not going to have any trouble," said Ron, bringing Harry back from his daydream. "You're a champion. You've just beaten a Hungarian Horntail. I bet they'll be queuing up to go with you."
In tribute to their recently repaired friendship, Ron had kept the bitterness in his voice to a bare minimum. Moreover, to Harry's amazement and to Ara's great annoyance, Ron turned out to be quite right.
A curly-haired third-year Hufflepuff girl to whom Harry had never spoken in his life asked him to go to the ball with her the very next day (Ara had to refrain from breaking the girl's arm). Harry was so taken aback he said no before he'd even stopped to consider the matter. The girl walked off looking rather hurt, and Harry had to endure Dean's, Seamus's, and Ron's taunts about her all through History of Magic as Ara remained unusually silent, doodling on her parchment. The following day, two more girls asked him, a second year and—to his horror— a fifth year who looked as though she might knock him out if he refused.
"She was quite good-looking," said Ron fairly, after he'd stopped laughing.
"She was a foot taller than me," said Harry, still unnerved. "Imagine what I'd look like trying to dance with her."
To Ara's surprise—seeing as she didn't expect anyone to actually go up to her willingly—she, as well, got various proposals to attend the ball. It seemed, that for a moment, they'd forgotten about her name, or had chosen to "overlook that imperfection" in hopes of having a "pretty girl on his arm" as one fifth-year boy had said—Ara made sure she made her refusal clear when she stomped on his foot, making him limp away as he muttered something along the lines of "not nice-looking anyway." Ginny—who'd been with Ara at the time—made sure to hex him as she and her sister laughed when he shrieked in disbelief.
Though there had been nice instances as well; A brave second year had marched up to her—tripping on his way—and thrust a small bouquet of carefully picked flowers as he mumbled, quite red in the face, if she'd like to go with him. It broke Ara's heart to decline him, though he didn't seem that put out as he insisted she keep the flowers before strolling away. Ron had snickered as he watched the interaction, later receiving a painful hit from Ara's bag as she scolded him. Even a fifth-year girl had asked her, though Ara turned her down as well.
She was hoping—well, hoping seemed a bit much, more like waiting—to see if a certain someone wanted to ask her. But Harry didn't seem to think of her as a possible date, seeing as he didn't mention anything regarding the topic. She would've asked him herself but when she caught on to his disinterest, she thought better of if. She'd go with someone else, try something new.
In spite of her disappointment, Ara was happy to see that life for Harry seemed to be improving; He wasn't attracting nearly as much unpleasantness in the corridors anymore, which Harry suspected had a lot to do with Cedric — he had an idea Cedric might have told the Hufflepuffs to leave Harry alone, in gratitude for Harry's tip-off about the dragons. There seemed to be fewer Support Cedric Diggory! badges around too. Draco Malfoy, of course, was still quoting Rita Skeeter's article to him at every possible opportunity, but he was getting fewer and fewer laughs out of it.
And, thankfully, no story about Hagrid had appeared in the Daily Prophet.
"She didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth," Hagrid said, when Ara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione asked him how his interview with Rita Skeeter had gone during the last Care of Magical Creatures lesson of the term. To their very great relief, Hagrid had given up on direct contact with the skrewts now, and they were merely sheltering behind his cabin today, sitting at a trestle table and preparing a fresh selection of food with which to tempt the skrewts.
"She jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Harry," Hagrid continued in a low voice. "Well, I told her we'd been friends since I went ter fetch yeh from the Dursleys. 'Never had to tell him off in four years?' she said. 'Never played you up in lessons, has he?' I told her no, an' she didn' seem happy at all. Yeh'd think she wanted me to say yeh were horrible, Harry."
" 'Course she did," said Harry, throwing lumps of dragon liver into a large metal bowl and picking up his knife to cut some more. "She can't keep writing about what a tragic little hero I am, it'll get boring."
"She wants a new angle, Hagrid," said Ron wisely as he shelled salamander eggs. "You were supposed to say Harry's a mad delinquent!"
"But he's not!" said Hagrid, looking genuinely shocked.
"She should've interviewed Snape," said Harry grimly.
"And what? Make an article about how greasy his hair is?" said Ara, scoffing.
"She could, but no, he'd give her the goods on me. 'Potter has been crossing lines ever since he first arrived at this school. . . .' "
"Said that, did he?" said Hagrid, while Ara, Ron, and Hermione laughed.
"Well, yeh might've bent a few rules, Harry, bu' yeh're alrigh' really, aren' you?"
"Cheers, Hagrid," said Harry, grinning.
"You coming to this ball thing on Christmas Day, Hagrid?" said Ron.
"Though' I might look in on it, yeah," said Hagrid gruffly. "Should be a good do, I reckon. You'll be openin' the dancin', won' yeh, Harry? Who're you takin'?"
"No one, yet," said Harry, feeling himself going red again. Hagrid didn't pursue the subject.
The last week of term became increasingly boisterous as it progressed. Rumours about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though Ara didn't believe half of them — for instance, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seemed to be a fact, however, that he had booked the Weird Sisters.
Some of the teachers, like little Professor Flitwick, gave up trying to teach them much when their minds were so clearly elsewhere; he allowed them to play games in his lesson on Wednesday, and spent most of it talking to Harry about the perfect Summoning Charm Harry had used during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. Other teachers were not so generous. Nothing would ever deflect Professor Binns, for example, from ploughing on through his notes on goblin rebellions — as Binns hadn't let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, they supposed a small thing like Christmas wasn't going to put him off. It was amazing how he could make even bloody and vicious goblin riots sound as boring as Percy's cauldron-bottom report.
Professors McGonagall and Moody kept them working until the very last second of their classes too, and Snape, of course, would no sooner let them play games in class than adopt Ara or Harry. Staring nastily around at them all, he informed them that he would be testing them on poison antidotes during the last lesson of the term.
"Evil, he is," Ron said bitterly that night in the Gryffindor common room. "Springing a test on us on the last day. Ruining the last bit of term with a whole load of studying."
"Well, he's Snivellus, what did you expect?" said Ara as she lay on one of the couches, closing her eyes but not yet sleeping as Venus purred softly on her stomach.
"Mmm . . . you're not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?" said Hermione, looking at Ron over the top of her Potions notes. Ron was busy building a card castle out of his Exploding Snap pack — a much more interesting pastime than with Muggle cards, because of the chance that the whole thing would blow up at any second.
"It's Christmas, Hermione," said Harry lazily; he was rereading Flying with the Cannons for the tenth time in an armchair near the fire.
Hermione looked severely over at him too. "I'd have thought you'd be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don't want to learn your antidotes! And Ara, you shouldn't be sleeping right now!"
Ara gave her a sarcastic thumbs up with her eyes still shut and rolled to her side, carefully manoeuvring Venus so she'd be beside her instead of on top of her, facing the fireplace.
"Like what?" Harry said as he watched Joey Jenkins of the Cannons belt a Bludger toward a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.
"That egg!" Hermione hissed.
"Come on, Hermione, I've got till February the twenty-fourth," Harry said.
He had put the golden egg upstairs in his trunk and hadn't opened it since the celebration party after the first task. There were still two and a half months to go until he needed to know what all the screechy wailing meant, after all.
"But it might take weeks to work it out!" said Hermione. "You're going to look like a real idiot if everyone else knows what the next task is and you don't!"
"Shhhh," Ara softly shushed her, holding up a hand. "Too loud."
She didn't want to be rude but she really couldn't handle loud noises right now, since her daily migraine decided to kick in and torture her. She pressed one of her palms over her forehead and tried to think of something else, hoping that the ache would soon go away. Venus, as if she could tell Ara wasn't feeling good, woke up and liked her face, causing her to laugh as she started to scratch her cat behind the ears.
"Leave him alone, Hermione, he's earned a bit of a break," said Ron, and he placed the last two cards on top of the castle and the whole lot blew up, singeing his eyebrows.
"Nice look, Ron . . . go well with your dress robes, that will." It was Fred and George. They sat down at the spare armchairs with Ara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione as Ron felt how much damage had been done.
"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked.
"No, he's off delivering a letter," said Ron. "Why?"
"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," said Fred sarcastically.
Ara gave a small snort and Harry looked in her direction, a smile growing.
"Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat," said George.
"Who'd you two keep writing to, eh?" said Ron.
"Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you too," said Fred, waving his wand threateningly. "So . . . you lot got dates for the ball yet?"
"Nope," said Ron.
"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," said Fred.
"Who're you going with, then?" said Ron.
"Angelina," said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.
"What?" said Ron, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"
"Good point," said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, "Oi! Angelina!"
Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet, looked over at him.
"What?" she called back.
"Want to come to the ball with me?"
Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look.
"All right, then," she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.
"There you go," said Fred to Harry and Ron, "piece of cake."
"Ever the charmer, Freddie," Ara peaked an eye open.
"You know it, Ria," He patted her head, got to his feet, yawning, and said, "We'd better use a school owl then, George, come on. . . ."
They left. Ron stopped feeling his eyebrows and looked across the smouldering wreck of his card castle at Harry.
"We should get a move on, you know . . . ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."
Hermione let out a sputter of indignation and Ara sat up quickly, placing Venus on her lap as she glared heatedly.
"A pair of . . . what, excuse me?" Ara scoffed, incredulous.
"Well — you know," said Ron, shrugging. "I'd rather go alone than with — with Eloise Midgen, say."
"Her acne's loads better lately — and she's really nice!" argued Hermione.
"Her nose is off-centre," said Ron.
"The way you think is off-centred, Ronald," said Ara as she crossed her arms. Venus, who seemed offended at the fact that she'd stopped petting her, got up and padded over to Harry, who instantly picked her up.
"Oh I see," Hermione said, bristling. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"
"Er — yeah, that sounds about right," said Ron.
"I'm going to bed," Hermione snapped, and she swept off toward the girls' staircase without another word.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" said Ara. "Looks are not everything that matters, Ron! A girl has feelings too!"
It didn't take long for Ron to go off to bed too, and slowly the common room started to empty, the only ones remaining now were Ara, Harry and Venus, who had decided to sprawl herself on an armchair. Ara stared at Harry, who seemed to be hypnotically staring at the flickering flames of the fireplace, and took a moment to just gaze; the light that the fire reflected upon his face gave his eyes an ethereal sort of look, and her eyes became blurry with tears and she realised that she hadn't blinked in a while. She rubbed her eyes, and as she did, she recalled the task that McGonagall had given.
She got to her feet, walked over to Harry and extended a hand to him, making him tear his stare from the orange flames, he looked baffled at her invitation. She clarified in an amused voice, "Minnie told me to teach you to dance, didn't she?"
"Er–now? You don't have to do that—"
But Ara didn't listen to his protest, she took his hand in hers and pulled him to his feet.
Harry could instantly feel his face heat up.
"Okay, put your hand on my waist," said Ara when they were both standing and facing each other.
"Where?" Harry did a double take.
Ara simply rolled her eyes and grabbed his wrist as she guided his hands towards her waist, ignoring the funny feeling she got when his palm pressed itself firmly in place.
"There, I don't bite, Potter," she grinned at him.
With the little confidence he had, Harry's other hand made its way to grab hers, his fingers brushing against her arm in the process and making Ara shiver in her place, he then laced their fingers together, never looking away from her eyes.
"Just—follow me, alright?" Ara cleared her throat, trying to ignore the weird fluttering in her stomach as she placed one hand on his shoulder.
Harry nodded and Ara started swaying them both back and forth. He stepped on her foot a few times and apologised more than necessary, but she assured him that she was fine.
"Ouch— don't worry it's fine—now to the right—my right, not yours—don't stare at your feet all the time—ow—no, nope, it's probably best if you stare at your feet—just relax, if your tense it's not going to work—yeah, that's better. . ."
After a few minutes, Harry was able to perform the basic steps of a simple dance without having to stare down all the time. They were now looking directly at each other and suddenly Ara's headache was an afterthought. The way she could slightly see the flames from the fireplace on Harry's glasses was distracting and so was the feel of his hands in hers.
"Spin me," she said suddenly.
"W-what?"
"Spin me."
Harry hesitated a little before doing as told, he gently let go of her waist and with the hand that was still in hers he lifted it slightly over her head to spin her, however, he did it a little too quick, so when he brought her back in, she crashed into his chest making them both fall with Ara on top of him.
Harry groaned in pain and lifted his head to look at Ara at the same time she lifted hers, they just remained there staring at each other before breaking into a fit of laughter.
And there, both drowning in the sound of each other's laughter, they felt at peace.
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THE HOGWARTS STAFF, DEMONSTRATING A CONTINUED desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up, Ara noticed that they were the most stunning she had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the bannisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armour had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them. It was quite something to hear "O Come, All Ye Faithful" sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Filch had to extract Peeves from inside the armour, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention, all of which were very rude.
Harry hadn't asked Ara to the ball.
He'd faced a dragon but somehow the concept of going up to Ara and asking her to be his date was more intimidating. She was no fire-breathing beast but she rattled him just the same. Somehow her grey eyes were more fierce and unnerving than any fire he'd come across during the first task.
He and Ron were getting very nervous now, though as Harry pointed out, Ron would look much less stupid than he would without a partner; Harry was supposed to be starting the dancing with the other champions.
"I suppose there's always Moaning Myrtle," he said gloomily, referring to the ghost who haunted the girls' toilets on the second floor.
"Harry — we've just got to grit our teeth and do it," said Ron on Friday morning, in a tone that suggested they were planning the storming of an impregnable fortress. "When we get back to the common room tonight, we'll both have partners — agreed?"
"Er . . . okay," said Harry.
But every time he glimpsed Ara that day, which was almost always since they shared every class together — she was always with Hermione. Harry knew that the only time where she was really alone was at nighttime. Yet if he didn't do it soon, she was bound to be asked by somebody else.
He found it hard to concentrate on Snape's Potions test, and consequently forgot to add the key ingredient — a bezoar —meaning that he received bottom marks. He didn't care, though; he was too busy screwing up his courage for what he was about to do soon enough. He was sure Ron would understand, he wouldn't hold it against him for going with Ara as friends.
However, when the bell rang and the four of them got out of the classroom, a rather beautiful blonde girl from Beauxbatons approached them, her eyes dead set on Ara as she looked her up and down.
"Salut! (Hi!)" she smiled, her blue eyes twinkling.
"Bonjour," Ara said politely although unsurely as well.
"Tu es Ara Black, n'est-ce pas? (You're Ara Black, right?)" said the girl, pointing a finger at her to confirm.
Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's jumped from Ara to the girl as they conversed.
"C'est moi, oui, et toi, tu es? (That'd be me, yeah, and you are?)" asked Ara, offering a smile.
"Oh! Elizabeth Babineaux, nice to meet you," she added to Harry, Ron and Hermione, giving them a dazzling smile. She focused back on Ara, her gaze questioning. "Je peux t'emprunter une seconde? (Could I borrow you for a second?)."
"Oui bien sûr (Yeah, sure)," Ara nodded before looking at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "You guys go ahead, I'll see you later."
The girls walked away, leaving a questioning Ron, a grinning Hermione and a grim Harry.
"Oh, je suis un peu gêné de dire ça mais. . . est-ce que tu pourrais me rendre un service? Ce n'est pas grave si tu es déjà compromise. (Oh, I'm a bit embarrassed to say this but. . .could you please do me a favour? It's alright if you're already compromised.)" Elizabeth said nervously as they continued walking through one of the more deserted corridors.
"Quel type de faveur? (What type of favour?)" Ara's eyebrows furrowed.
"Je sais que c'est un peu étrange pour moi de demander cela puisque nous sommes pratiquement des étrangers l'un pour l'autre, mais tu as l'air gentille et tu es très jolie. Tu es parfaite pour cette tâche! (Well, I know it's a bit strange for me to ask this since we're basically strangers to each other but, well, you seem nice and you're very pretty. You're perfect for the task!)" the blonde rambled.
Ara was instantly charmed, "Merci, mais tu ne m'as toujours pas dit ce que tu attendais de moi. (Thanks, but you still haven't told me what you need from me.)"
"Oh! c'est vrai! Je me demandais si tu aimerais venir au bal avec moi. En tant que compagnon. J'aime bien cette fille depuis un moment et je suis certain qu'elle partage mes sentiments, mais elle a besoin d'un peu de— (Oh! Right! I was wondering if you'd like to go to the ball with me. As a companion. I've liked this girl for a while you see and I'm certain she shares my sentiments but she needs a little—)"
"La jalousie pour la faire agir et te balayer d'un revers de main. (Jealousy to make her act and sweep you off your feet.)" Ara snorted as they rounded a corner. She was fairly amused by the girl's love story and truthfully, despite her only wanting to go with her so she could inspire some jealousy, Elizabeth seemed to be nice enough and Ara—while she wouldn't mind attending alone—thought there was no harm in helping her.
"Oui!" Elizabeth sighed.
Ara hummed and Elizabeth's eyes widened, "J'espère que je ne t'ai pas offensé, Fleur a dit que tu étais gentil, je ne veux pas te blesser en te demandant si tu ne veux pas— (I hope I didn't offend you, Fleur said you were kind, I don't mean to hurt your feelings by asking you if you don't want to—)"
"C'est bon, Elizabeth. Je n'ai pas encore de rendez-vous, alors je ne vois pas pourquoi je ne pourrais pas t'aider. (It's alright, Elizabeth. I don't have a date yet so I don't see why I shouldn't help you.)" Ara shrugged, offering a smile.
Elizabeth's hands flew to her mouth from giddiness, "Alors, c'est un oui? Tu m'aideras? (So, that's a yes? You'll help me?)"
"Oui—" Ara barely managed to get her agreement out before the blonde screamed in delight and launched herself at her, hugging her quickly before letting go.
"C'est incroyable! Merci beaucoup! Vraiment! (That's amazing! Thank you very much! Really!)" She gave Ara a kiss on the cheek before practically skipping away from her, leaving a chuckling Ara behind.
"She seems happy,"
Ara spun around; Atlas Auclair was strutting towards her, his hands burrowed in his black trench coat. She bounced her eyebrows in greeting, "She is."
"Your date?" he questioned shortly. Ara nodded. "Ah, be prepared for a lot of rambling, Elizabeth's a social butterfly, she'll chat your ear off."
"I don't mind that," Ara shrugged, turning around and starting to walk away. She heard another pair of footsteps behind her as Atlas caught up to her. "I happen to be a great listener."
"So I've noticed," he said.
"What about you? You've got a date?" Ara looked at him from the corner of her eye as she pulled down the sleeves of her jumper.
"Oh, yeah, I'll go with one of my classmates, Camille, she's nice, a good dancer too thank Merlin," sighed Atlas.
"You dance?" Ara raised an eyebrow.
"Ah, you can't not dance if you come from a pureblood family. I started having lessons when I was six. I'm practically an expert in the field." he smirked.
"Must've been nice," Ara said.
"Most would think so," he mumbled quietly before clearing his throat, "but yeah, it was most certainly an advantage in certain situations. I was always the best dancer at any ball I attended. The ladies love it."
"I'm sure they do," Ara snorted.
"Hey—don't wound my ego, it's fragile!" Atlas placed a hand over his heart, only making Ara laugh harder.
Yes, Atlas Auclair was curious and mysterious but he also had something soothing and familiar around him. Something trustful.
Ara decided, at that moment, that she'd get to the bottom of this feeling of missing something that she'd felt from the moment she'd laid her eyes on him and noticed their resemblance.
She'd find out who Atlas Auclair was.
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SHE'S GOING TO ASK HER TO THE YULE BALL OF COURSE! Hermione's words rang through Harry's mind like loud alarm bells, I think she'll say yes this time!
Harry had abandoned her and Ron, feeling rather dull as he walked aimlessly through the corridors. He'd been too late, all because he couldn't bring himself to ask Ara earlier, now his chance had evaporated.
Now that he knew that Ara had most definitely found a date, he would have to ask someone else. . . . And when he was walking near the Defense Against the Dark Arts class he saw Cho emerging from it. He should at least try, it was better than going alone.
"Er — Cho? Could I have a word with you?"
Giggling should be made illegal, Harry thought furiously, as all the girls around Cho started doing it. She didn't, though. She merely muttered a simple, "Okay," and followed him out of earshot of her classmates.
Harry turned to look at her but his stomach didn't give a weird lurch like it always did when he looked at Ara.
"Er," he said. The words came out before Harry had quite got his tongue around them. "D'you want to go to the ball with me?"
"Oh!" said Cho, and she went red. "Oh Harry, I'm really sorry," and she truly looked it. "I've already said I'll go with someone else."
"Oh," said Harry.
It was odd; he didn't feel his heart sink like when Hermione said that Ara would say yes to that girl, in fact, he wasn't really upset with Cho's response.
"Oh okay," he said, "no problem."
"I'm really sorry," she said again.
"That's okay," said Harry honestly.
They stood there looking at each other, and then Cho said, "Well —"
"Yeah," said Harry before curiosity got the better of him. "Wait, who are you going with?"
"Cedric Diggory. Well, 'bye," said Cho, still very red. She walked away.
Completely forgetting about dinner, he walked slowly back up to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione's voice echoing in his ears with every step he took. "I think she'll say yes this time." Hermione had looked positively cheerful when she'd said that but Harry had felt like throwing himself off the nearest tower.
"Fairy lights," he said dully to the Fat Lady — the password had been changed the previous day.
"Yes, indeed, dear!" she trilled, straightening her new tinsel hair band as she swung forward to admit him.
Entering the common room, Harry looked around, and to his surprise, he saw Ron sitting ashen-faced in a distant corner. Ginny was sitting with him, talking to him in what seemed to be a low, soothing voice.
"What's up, Ron?" said Harry, joining them.
Ron looked up at Harry, a sort of blind horror in his face.
"Why did I do it?" he said wildly. "I don't know what made me do it!"
"What?" said Harry.
"He — er — just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him," said Ginny. She looked as though she was fighting back a smile, but she kept patting Ron's arm sympathetically.
"You what?" said Harry.
The portrait hole opened again and Harry saw Ara emerge from it, a rather happy look on her face. For a moment the heavy feeling in his chest lifted at the sight of her but it soon returned when he recalled who she'd been with.
"Well, don't you look mortified," said Ara, snickering as she looked at Ron. "What did you do this time? Pissed off Hermione?"
"He, er, he invited Fleur Delacour to the ball," said Harry avoiding her stare.
"You did what?" Ara's eyes bulged from her head as she went to sit next to Ron
"I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped again. "What was I playing at? There were people — all around — I've gone mad — everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall — she was standing there talking to Diggory — and it sort of came over me — and I asked her!"
Ron moaned and put his face in his hands. He kept talking, though the words were barely distinguishable.
"She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then — I dunno — I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."
"She's part veela," said Harry. "You were right — her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault, I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it but she was wasting her time. He's going with Cho Chang."
Ron looked up.
"I asked her to go with me just now," Harry said, "and she told me."
Ara pursed her lips but decided to focus on patting Ron's back rather than dwelling on the bitter emotion that arose inside her.
"This is mad," said Ron. "We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone — well, except Neville. Hey — guess who he asked? Hermione!"
"What?" said Harry, completely distracted by this startling news.
"Yeah, I know!" said Ron, some of the colour coming back into his face as he started to laugh. "He told me after Potions! Said she's always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff —but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn't want to go with Neville . . . I mean, who would?"
"Oh, please! At least Neville has the guts to ask Hermione," said Ara. "When are you going to ask her Ron?"
Just then Hermione climbed in through the portrait hole.
"Why weren't you three at dinner?" she said, coming over to join them.
"Because — oh shut up laughing, you two — because both Harry and Ron have just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!" said Ginny. "I don't know where Ara was."
"I was with Atlas," said Ara, Harry's face twisted. "I bumped into him on the way back."
"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," said Ron sourly.
"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" said Hermione loftily. "Eloise Midgen is starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone somewhere who'll have you."
But Ron was staring at Ara and Hermione as though suddenly seeing them in a whole new light.
"Hermione, Neville's right — you are a girl. . . ."
"Oh well spotted," she said acidly.
"And Ara, you're a girl too. . ."
"After thirteen years you've finally realised," she said sarcastically. "Congratulations."
"Well — you can come with us! Ara can go with Harry and I can go with Hermione!"
"No, I can't," snapped Hermione.
"Oh come on," he said impatiently, "we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has . . ."
"I can't come with you," said Hermione, now blushing, "because I'm already going with someone."
"No, you're not!" said Ron. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"
"Oh did I?" said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"
Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.
"Okay, okay, we know you're a girl," he said. "That do? Will you come now?"
"I've already told you!" Hermione said very angrily. "I'm going with someone else!"
And she stormed off toward the girls' dormitories again.
"She's lying," said Ron flatly, watching her go.
"She's not," said Ginny quietly.
"Who is it then?" said Ron sharply.
"Now that is none of your business," said Ara shortly.
"Right," said Ron, who looked extremely put out, "this is getting stupid. Ara, you can go with Harry, and I'll just —"
"I can't," Ara shook her head. "I have a date already."
Harry looked away, internally slapping himself for not acting earlier.
"With who?" said Ron curiously. "That girl?"
"Like I said," she grinned slyly. "It's really none of your business."
And without anything else, she followed after Hermione towards the dormitories with Ginny close behind.
Ron goggled at Harry.
"What's got into them?" he demanded.
But Harry had just seen Parvati and Lavender come in through the portrait hole. The time had come for drastic action.
"Wait here," he said to Ron, and he stood up, walked straight up to Parvati, and said, "Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?"
Parvati went into a fit of giggles. Harry waited for them to subside, his fingers crossed in the pocket of his robes.
"Yes, all right then," she said finally, blushing furiously.
"Thanks," said Harry, in relief. "Lavender — will you go with Ron?"
"She's going with Seamus," said Parvati, and the pair of them giggled harder than ever.
Harry sighed.
"Can't you think of anyone who'd go with Ron?" he said, lowering his voice so that Ron wouldn't hear.
"What about Hermione Granger?" said Parvati.
"She's going with someone else," said Harry.
Parvati looked astonished.
"Ooooh — who?" she said keenly.
Harry shrugged. "No idea," he said. "So what about Ron?"
"Well . . ." said Parvati slowly, "I suppose my sister might . . .Padma, you know . . . in Ravenclaw. I'll ask her if you like."
"Yeah, that would be great," said Harry. "Let me know, will you?"
And he went back over to Ron, feeling that this ball was a lot more trouble than it was worth, and hoping very much that Padma Patil's nose was dead centre.
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HEYYYYYYYYYY!!
Tell me what you think of Ara and Elizabeth's/Atlas' interactions! They weren't in the old version and I'm so glad I added them now!
God Ara and Harry are so oblivious hahah, but we love them anyway.
qotd: favourite colours? Mine are navy blue, baby pink, cherry red and emerald green!
Remember to COMMENT and VOTE!
See you soon darlings! <3