A Hogwarts Reunion

The Great Hall had been transformed into what appeared to be a dance club. At least it looked that way to Harry. He had to admit that he had been looking forward to seeing the school in its normal state; it made him feel as though he was coming home. Seeing it decorated with dim lights and decorations everywhere was oddly disappointing.

The costumes, on the other hand... Merlin, the costumes! He laughed softly as he looked around. If nothing else, it could not be said that his classmates were not extravagant when it came to parties. It seemed as though no expense had been spared in the choosing of costumes; he saw everything from Queens to - he blinked. Hard. Was that a flobberworm?

He shook his head, trying to clear the disturbing image of the costume from his mind, and made his way to the refreshment table, consciously steering clear of the dance floor. He surveyed the contents of the table, which were vast and widely varied, and finally chose a pumpkin pasty and a glass of punch. Just as he was lifting the glass to his lips, he saw someone in his peripheral vision and turned.

A Chudley Cannons player was walking in with a shapely peacock on his arm. Harry grinned broadly and sat the cup down on the table. He didn't know anyone else who was a big enough Cannons fan to wear such a costume. He waited until the peacock had become sufficiently distracted by accepting a dance from what appeared to be a werewolf (and a bad one at that, Harry thought), and made his way to the Quidditch player. Ron looked up in surprise.

"Couldn't find a costume that complimented your hair any better, eh?" Ron's eyes widened as Harry wrapped him in a brotherly embrace.

"Holy hell," he said, squinting through his mask at Harry. "So you showed up, after all! You pillock, I ought to maim you for not keeping in touch," he said affectionately.

"Didn't you recognize me?"

"Nope," Ron said, shaking his head. "I might have had a fighting chance if the light was brighter in here- your eyes would have given you away."

"Sorry about the whole not writing thing," he said, smiling apologetically. "My job requires a lot of traveling and secrecy, so I couldn't send messages unless I wanted to risk discovery."

"It's alright," Ron shrugged. "Hermione and I have been okay, but we've both missed you. But you're here now, and you're - you're-" Ron struggled, trying to guess Harry's costume.

"King Arthur," he said. Ron's eyes widened slightly, and he nodded. Harry turned and watched the peacock Ron had come with twirling about on the dance floor. "Who's your date?"

"You're kidding, right?" Harry shook his head. "She's not my date. My date should be here any time now."

"Who is she, if she's not your date? And why would you come without your real date? She's-" his voice broke off as the light glinted off of her copper hair, and a grin spread across his face. "You brought Ginny?"

"Yeah, felt bad for her," he lied, walking slowly with Harry to the refreshment table. He picked up a plastic cup full of crimson liquid. "A lot of her friends were in our year, and she wanted to see them. Not to mention that if I hadn't brought her, Mum would have been the only one in the house with her tonight, boring her to tears." Harry laughed. "My real date is Mione, although I have no idea where she is."

"How has she been?" Harry asked, biting into a pumpkin pasty.

"She likes her job. It's hell trying to get her to leave the ruddy grounds," he grumbled. Harry arched an eyebrow.

"Are you two...?"

"No," Ron said quietly, shaking his head. "It's not because I don't want to, either, it's because of work." Harry raised both eyebrows this time, and Ron sighed. "All right, it's not all because of work. I don't know that she'd want that sort of thing from me."

"But you want it from her?"

"Harry," Ron said, blinking at him. "Wait till you see her, and then you'll understand." Harry nodded, then looked around the room while Ron sulked quietly.

"Have you seen the flobberworm?" he asked, laughing and pointing. Ron craned his neck to get a better look, and he snorted loudly.

"Merlin, at least my costume is presentable," he laughed, shaking his head.

"Dressing as a Cannons player is presentable?" Harry and Ron both turned to see a slender figure clad in white with her hands on her hips. Harry's jaw dropped and Ron grinned, his whole face lighting up.

"You made it," he said happily. She nodded and gave him a chaste peck on the cheek.

"I wouldn't leave my best friend hanging, would I?" She turned and looked at the figure Ron was standing with, taking in his regal garb. "Are you going to introduce me to King Arthur?"

"How'd you guess?" Ron asked, surprised. She shrugged.

"It isn't difficult to tell," she said matter-of-factly. "Look at the gilt embroidery on his robe- it's reminiscent of the time period."

"Only you would have known right off," Ron said, wondering why Harry hadn't spoken yet and revealed himself.

"Well?" she asked, tapping a foot impatiently.

"Oh!" he shook his head, trying to clear the scent of her that was invading his nostrils and threatening to render him entirely senseless. "Your highness, this is Cliodna." Harry bent and took her hand in his, dropping a formal kiss on the back of her hand. He could tell that she was blushing, even in the dim light of the room.

"Seriously," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Who are you?"

"The ghost of Christmas past," he laughed. Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open.

"Is it- are you-" he lifted his mask and winked at her, then replaced it. She let out a loud squeal and launched herself at him, squeezing his neck so tightly that he thought she might strangle him. "Oh, sweet Merlin, Harry! I missed you! Never, ever, leave us for that long again!" Tears threatened and he dislodged himself, unable to stop smiling.

"I was just apologizing to Ron for not writing, so I suppose I owe you an apology, too - I'll tell you I'm sorry when I can breathe properly again." Ron laughed, and Hermione blushed. "It's good to be back. I've missed you both more than you know."

"We've missed you as well, Harry," she said, smiling. A soft melody filled the air, and Ron turned to her.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, extending his hand. Harry noticed that he was trembling, even if Hermione didn't. She curtseyed to Harry, then took Ron's hand and allowed him to lead her out onto the dance floor. Harry grinned stupidly after them.

"You know," a soft voice came from behind him. He turned quickly to see Ginny staring out at her brother. "You've been gone for a while, and here you are in the middle of a throng of people, with complete anonymity. You're not taking nearly enough advantage of it."

"You're looking well," he said quietly, masking the surprise he felt at the fact that she seemed to know who he was. She smiled coyly at him.

"As are you, My Lord," she said, curtseying. He laughed.

"Perhaps I should dress like this all the time," he teased. "I've already gotten the attention of two of the prettiest girls in the room. Who knows? Maybe it'll work outside a costume party as well." She laughed, although her heart fluttered wildly at the fact that he'd just called her pretty.

"So, how has life been treating you?" she asked, reaching around him to grab a pumpkin pasty. He watched as she nibbled at it and stared out across the dance floor.

"Same as ever," he said, shrugging. "How about you? Been up to anything exciting in the last few years?"

"I don't know that you'd call it exciting, but it is fun," she smiled. "I've been working with Fred and George at the joke shop."

"And you're still alive and unscathed enough to tell the tale?" his voice was full of admiration, and she giggled.

"I don't know that I'd say unscathed," she shook her head. "I've been doing lots of things for them. Bookkeeping, market research, checking up on competitors, that sort of thing."

"Does it pay well?"

"Extremely well," she nodded. "So well, in fact, that I have had my own home for two years now." He looked impressed.

"Why did Ron tell me you'd be with your Mum tonight then?"

"Mum doesn't like to be alone in that big house. Dad went to visit Charlie, and she asked me to stay with her while he's gone. She made an exception when Ron mentioned bringing me here." The slow music faded and a thumping beat took its place.

"Ah, I've missed my window," he lamented, his eyes glinting mischievously behind his mask. He saw the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile.

"I'd say you missed it when my brother asked her to dance," she quipped, shoving the remainder of the pumpkin pasty into her mouth unceremoniously. He grinned.

"Hmm," was all he said. Ron and Hermione continued dancing, and she laughed, covering her face with her hands. He watched her peek at them from between her fingers.

"Well," she shrugged as he laughed. "No one ever said Ron could dance."

"Hermione doesn't seem to mind," he pointed out. She attempted to give him a stern look, but the peacock feathers were making it exceedingly difficult for him to take her seriously.

"That's because she's flailing around just as badly as he is."

"So you just came to stand around all night? Why aren't you dancing with your mysterious lycanthropic friend?" He could see her cheeks darken.

"He's not mysterious at all," she said, shaking her head. "I know exactly who he is."

"And?" he prompted.

"A friend," was all she would say. He stared at her until she returned his look. "Why aren't you out there, savoring the moment with a mysterious, exotic costumed woman?"

"That's funny, I thought I was." She bit her bottom lip. "Want to dance?"

"I'm as bad as Ron," she said, laughing. "Worse, even."

"I'll take my chances." She laughed harder and took the hand he proffered, allowing him to lead her onto the dance floor.