Harry Potter And The Fall Of Childhood

Chapter 14: The Dance Of The Stars

"Beauty is worse than wine, it intoxicates both the holder and beholder." --Immermann

***

"Nice robes," Hermione said suddenly, looking at Ron for the first time. "Those are new, aren't they?"

Ron turned positively crimson, nodding with obvious pride. The three of them had encamped themselves in chairs around the fire, waiting for Samantha to come down before they went to the entrance hall to meet Padma and Viktor.

"Present from the twins," Ron explained, smoothing a proprietary hand over the fine fabric. It was a dark blue edged in gold and it suited him much better than his old robes had. "They said they had some extra money from selling jokes and it was embarrassing to see me in those old robes."

"Nice of them," Hermione observed. "Those look expensive."

"I'm sure they could afford it," Harry put in, working hard to control his expression.

"Still, it was really nice of them," Ron said. "I was a bit suspicious at first, though. They kept grinning; you know the look they have like they know something you don't. I thought they'd hexed the robes or something. Make my hair fall out or my nose grow or what have you."

"They wouldn't," Harry assured, his lips twitching. "And they really are nice."

"You all look wonderful," A new voice put in.

"Oo, you do too," Hermione exclaimed. Harry had to agree. Samantha's pale yellow robes complemented her coloring and figure beautifully. Ron was staring rather openly at her, apparently taken aback by how well she cleaned up.

"Thanks. And where are your dates?" She asked, gesturing at Hermione and Harry.

"Entrance hall," He said, rising. "You guys want to head down now?"

"You're eager," Hermione pointed out as they exited the common room. "I remember last year you did everything in your power to avoid even thinking about the ball."

"I can dance now. Or at least sort of." Harry extended his arm, grinning cheerfully as Hermione curtseyed and took it. "Since your escort has yet to put in an appearance, do let me do the honor."

"The honor is all mine," She said, mimicking his attempt at an upper-crust accent.

"They seem to be getting along alright," Harry observed, jerking his chin towards Ron and Samantha before them.

"Ron'll get along with anybody in tight dress robes," Hermione retorted, though her smile remained. "It was a good idea of Ginny to set them up. I think they'll get on well."

"And keep him out of your, and Viktor's, hair," Harry teased.

"Honestly." She effected a wounded expression. "I had nothing to do with engineering this state of affairs. Ginny just wanted to distract Ron from that nice William fellow." She paused and shrugged. "Besides, I don't really think Ron is so upset about me dating Viktor so much as you and I both having steady relationships while he doesn't."

Harry didn't really agree with that, but he figured that if Hermione wanted to pretend just for tonight, he couldn't begrudge her that. "Where are Ginny and that bloke, anyway? I didn't see either of them in the common room," Harry said. "And he only has you to be jealous of in the relationship department, now."

Hermione stopped dead, a dismayed expression crossing her face. "You and Padma split up? Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright." Harry smiled a little at her disbelieving look and tugged gently on her arm. "Don't just stand there blocking the hall. Really, it's all right. We both agree it's best."

"So it wasn't horrid?" She asked, looking a bit reassured.

"No," Harry affirmed. "I'm not saying it was particularly comfortable," He hesitated then plunged on, "Or that I don't feel like I've lost something special, but it was right to do it."

"D'you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"No," Harry said decisively. Hermione shared a dorm with Parvati and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that the girl would suddenly find herself hexed halfway to graduation. Hermione's ire, once roused, was a formidable thing, and one really had to take into consideration her near encyclopedic knowledge of spells. "We're still good friends. We're going tonight, aren't we?"

"Well," She said as they approached the top of the grand staircase, "If you need someone to, you know, run interference tonight, just let me know. If things get awkward or anything, I'd be glad to whisk one of my best friends off for a few dances."

"Thank you," Harry said warmly, squeezing her hand on his arm. "I appreciate that. Don't think I'll need it, but thank you. We've just been sticking to the polite friends business, and it's been going alright."

"Be that as it may, I'm still stealing you away for a dance or two," Hermione assured as they began to descend together.

"I suppose I could squeeze you in on my hectic schedule," Harry retorted, ducking a playful punch.

"I knew you had a brain somewhere under all that hair," She sniped, then rolled her eyes at his pout. "Now, where is that boyfriend of mine?"

***

Harry sighed a little and shifted his weight. They had been standing around for nearly fifteen minutes in the crowded Entrance Hall, waiting their turn to enter the doors into the makeshift ballroom. Dumbledore's magically amplified voice echoed out to them, announcing each couple as they entered in grand style. It sounded a fine idea on the surface, really rather neat, but Harry was getting impatient.

"Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson!"

"Wonder if she looks as hideous this year as last," Ron muttered behind Harry.

"Wouldn't be too difficult," Samantha replied.

"Vincent Crabbe and ..." There was a short, confused pause, then Dumbledore resumed, as imperturbably cheery as always, "and Gregory Goyle!"

""Ewww!" Padma let out with a shudder.

Harry glanced down, meeting her exaggeratedly horrified expression. "Quite," He agreed, shuffling forward as their turn approached. "You ready for a grand entrance?"

"Always," She said, reaffirming her grip on his arm. Harry privately thought that she looked good enough to set the whole ballroom ablaze, but kept that to himself. They weren't dating anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't admire the way her fluttery white robes shifted and swirled about her at the slightest movement. He suspected they were charmed to heighten the effect, and glancing about he doubted she was the only one to be taking advantage of magic. In fact he doubted gravity would put up with the magnificent arrangement of Hermione's hair without a little charmed prodding. This made him relax a bit, for it was nice to know he wasn't the only one charming himself into good looks that night. He firmly ignored the mocking voice which pointed out that looking handsome wasn't at the top of his list when he put the Abscondo charm on himself.

"Visiting from Bulgaria, we have Viktor Krum and our own Hermione Granger!" Dumbledore cried. Harry smiled as the couple swept forward, hand-in-hand. He swore they'd coordinated outfits, for Viktor's robes were the same color purple as Hermione's just in a much darker shade. They looked smashing together.

"We're up," Padma observed, fussing absently with one of the little white flowers in her hair.

"Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Padma Patil!"

"Reckon I should try a Lockhart smile?" Harry asked as they approached the doors.

"Please don't," Padma replied. "I couldn't keep a straight face if you did."

Harry himself had a hard time keeping a straight face as they entered the ballroom, arm in arm. He was used to being stared at, but really this was too much. Over half the students were already in attendance and it seemed everybody was staring at them. The expressions ranged from cheerful to dreamy to speculative to vindictive as they surveyed the two of them taking the last few steps before they reached the end of the short red carpet which had been laid out.

"Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Samantha Cummings!" Dumbledore called, the second their feet touched the floor.

"Let's wait for them and then find a table," Hermione said, appearing at Harry's elbow with Viktor in tow. "They'll be serving dinner in fifteen minutes."

"A table?" Harry asked blankly, then for the first time he turned and surveyed the hall. There were indeed quite a few tables to choose from, various sized circular ones, which could seat four to eight people. The tablecloths were a dazzling white edged in gold, and the normally grand place settings had been replaced with even fancier flat wear and plates edged in what looked like gemstones.

The walls, what was visible of them behind the enormous Christmas trees and expansive displays of Holly and Ivy, were swirled with random patterns of frost, the bluish white crystals frozen forever against the darkened stone. Glancing up, Harry realized that a new charm must have been placed on the ceiling, for there was no way it was that clear and bright out at this time of year. In fact, the stars were a bit too bright, and the full moon was two weeks too early. The celestial glow touched everything in the hall with silver and white, enhancing the decorations. Aside from a few scattered candles, it was the only illumination, lending the room a dreamy, fairytale quality.

"Right then," Ron's cheerful voice sounded behind him. "Where's the food?"

"We were just waiting for you," Harry said, glancing at Hermione. "Which table? There's a nice one over there."

"No, get a bigger one. I think Ginny and William will be sitting with us, too," She said, gesturing towards the approaching couple.

"Good," Harry heard Ron mutter. "Need to keep an eye on that fellow..."

Harry shot Hermione an arched eyebrow, which she smoothly ignored other than to return a quelling look.

""It is nize to zee you all again," Viktor said as they all settled around the table.

"Not mutual," Ron muttered.

"What have you been doing?" Harry asked quickly, stepping on Ron's foot beneath the table.

"Quidditch, of course," Viktor answered, pulling Hermione's chair out for her under Ron's disapproving scowl. "The Vorld Cup is not for another three yearz, but ve cannot be too prepared."

"So you're going to stay on the Bulgarian national team for the next three years?" Harry asked, with real interest now.

"I signed a contract," Viktor explained, grinning in pleasure as the plates and platters before them filled with a sumptuous feast. "I am required to stay for six years."

"That's a long time," Padma observed. "Weren't you nervous, signing like that when you were still in school?"

"Not at all." Viktor smiled pleasantly at her then glanced at Harry. "I love Quidditch, and I vould be happy playing forever."

"I get that," Harry said, nodding. "I doubt I'll ever get tired of Quidditch.

"Have you thought of joining your national team?" Viktor asked, leaning forward with interest. "You can ven you are sixteen."

"You think I could?" Harry asked, surprised. "I knew you had to be sixteen, but I never thought of joining myself."

"Definitely," Viktor averred. "I remember you flying about that dragon, you know how to use a broom."

Harry felt his cheeks flush and hoped it wouldn't be visible in the dim candle and starlight. To be complimented like that by the man who had caught the World Cup snitch...

"Oh no you don't," Hermione cut in, waggling a finger first at Harry and then at Viktor. "Harry, you're much too busy to be running off to Quidditch practices every day--"

"I do anyway--"

"And besides, you'll have plenty of time after you graduate to play professional Quidditch."

"If I graduate," Harry muttered, mood shattered.

"Nonsense," Padma said firmly. "You're marks are perfectly decent. You'll pass your O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s just fine."

Harry pressed his lips together and looked away. His eyes accidentally locked with Hermione's. She looked like she had just been doused with a bucket of ice water. She, at least, had caught what he really meant.

"I've always like Quidditch, myself," William put in, speaking for the first time. Harry shot him a thankful look, not sure whether he'd supplied that outlet on purpose or not, but either way glad.

"You play?" He asked. "We'll be needing five new players next year, you know."

"Chaser," William said. "I was thinking of trying out."

"Please do," Harry said with relief. "I was wondering where in Gryffindor I'd find new players."

"Oh, I see," Hermione remarked, tone deceptively mild. "You're worried about next years Quidditch team, yet you have yet to start studying for this years O.W.L.s."

"He has priorities," Ron defended, slapping Harry on the back.

"It's Quidditch," Harry and Viktor said in perfect unison, then shared a grin.

"Hermione just let out a long-suffering sigh and turned away to speak to Samantha.

The rest of the dinner passed in relative tranquility as conversations flew about the table and crisscrossed everywhere. Harry mostly chatted with William and Viktor, both of whom he found to be nearly as fascinated with Quidditch as he was. He heard snatches of other conversations going on around him, something about Hermione's hair, Padma's gown and Samantha's shoes. Beside him Ron was ominously silent, the only signs of life the significant portions he put away.

They were sipping a minty after-dinner tea, and eating ice cream out of elegant glass flutes when the hall began to quiet down. Glancing around, Harry spotted Dumbledore rising from a table towards the center of the hall, looking nearly ecstatically about at everyone.

"And a wonderful evening to all of you," He called brightly. "I hope you are all having a fabulous time thus far?" He waited for the flurry of agreements, then continued. "Now, I've been hearing some wild speculations about our entertainment for this evening, and I'd just like to disclaim that no, there will be no dancing Hippogriffs."

"I heard there'd be stripping Veela," A Weasley twin called from somewhere off to Harry's left.

Dumbledore looked momentarily alarmed, then sailed on as if he hadn't heard a thing. "I'm sure you're all eager to get the dancing started, but I'd first like to acknowledge the hard work of the two people who were instrumental in coordinating this event for you all. Our head girl and boy, Alicia Spinnet and Malcolm Baddock both did a wonderful job decorating the hall and organizing your entertainment." He paused, sketching a half bow to the two who rose at opposite ends of the hall and waved. For the first time Harry wondered how Alicia was faring, working in close proximity with Baddock, who was after all, a Slytherin. He hadn't seen much of the fellow except at Prefect meetings, and then he seemed nice enough. But you never could tell with Slytherins. You never could tell with anybody, he reminded himself.

"Now, if you would all please stand so we can clear a dance floor, we can open the ball."

There was a mass shuffle as everyone obeyed, then a scramble to get out of the way as most of the tables came to life and trotted off to take up positions lining the walls. The large clear space revealed was decorated much like the walls, a shiny black touched with curls and lines of magically preserved frost, it's stasis making it catch and hold the moonbeams in nearly dazzling displays.

"And now," Dumbledore cried, moving through the crowd towards the front of the hall, "Our entertainment." He paused about where the Head Table would be normally, then withdrew his wand and performed a series of rapid fire spells. A stage erected itself under his guidance, all elegantly polished wood and draped velvet. "I present for your listening, and dancing, pleasure, the internationally acclaimed songstress, Celestina Warbeck!"

There was an eruption of applause, and Harry craned his neck to get a better look. He'd heard her name bandied about for a few years now, but he'd never seen her, let alone heard her sing. But from the way Ginny was bouncing and the huge grins plastered on everybody else's faces, they were in for a treat.

The lighting shifted subtly, the moon abandoning its usual course and floating serenely to create a spotlight effect on the stage. Music began to swell from somewhere, and Harry saw Dumbledore approach Professor McKinnon, bow over her hand and then escort her into the center of the dance floor. The unnaturally bright stars illuminated the two as they began to dance, flashing in Dumbledore's smiling eyes and on McKinnon's delighted face.

"Where is she, where is she?" Ginny asked from over Harry's shoulder.

"Oh," Exclaimed Padma, in unison with half the hall. There was a mass sigh as the silvery moon seemed to intensify even further, and there she was, poised in the center of the stage, her voice already floating out ahead of her.

"How'd she do that?" Hermione exclaimed. "You can't apparate--"

"Who cares," Ron exclaimed. "Bloody hell, she's even prettier in person."

Harry had to restrain an impulse to tell him to shut up, for he wasn't so much looking as listening. He vaguely remembered hearing the phrase "singing sorceress" in reference to Celestina Warbeck, and as her voice soared above the music and penetrated Harry down to his very bones he truly believed it.

"Come on," Padma said, tugging lightly on his arm. "Let's go show off those dancing skills of yours."

Harry followed her out onto the quickly filling dance floor, spotting his friends doing the same. The opening song was a classic wizard piece, one which Padma and he had danced to many times during the lessons. Harry was supremely glad for the fact, as it gave him a chance to start out on the right foot and to relax.

"There you go," Padma murmured, shifting closer. "You're doing wonderfully."

"Until I break one of your toes," Harry retorted, most of his concentration focused on counting.

"Just relax. You're going to trip if you start thinking too hard," Padma urged.

"Easy for you to say. You're good at this."

"Oh hush." She was silent a minute, doing most of the work of leading much to Harry's relief. "Wonder how Dumbledore got her here," She said, jerking her chin up towards the stage as they twirled past. "She's really famous, not just in Britain anymore."

"It's Dumbledore," Harry answered. "I bet all he had to do was ask nicely."

He turned his head to look back at the stage as they shifted a little off towards the center of the dance floor. He'd once caught a glimpse of a TV broadcast of an operatic concert that Aunt Petunia was watching, and as far as he could tell the only difference here was a lack of visible equipment and sound devices. Celestina stood in the center of the stage, draped in silver robes, both they and her pale blonde hair touched with blue and silver from the moonlight. He couldn't really see her face too well from that distance, but she was clearly not using a microphone. Harry figured there must be specifically made Sonorus charms for singers, for her voice seemed to be coming from everywhere, even inside his own head.

There was enthusiastic applause as the first song drew to a close, and the singer gave a little courtesy, before gesturing with her wand to begin a new song.

Much to Harry's pleased surprise, he found himself enjoying the dances that followed. He and Padma stuck together, Padma claiming that she needed to make sure he wouldn't panic and forget all their hard work. For his part, Harry couldn't honestly say he minded. Padma had always fit comfortably in his arms, and just being with her was putting his nerves to rest.

They only left the dance floor when Celestina Warbeck finished her first set, informing them in a speaking voice as melodic and smooth as her singing one that she would be back shortly. A traditional waltz began playing in the interim, and they took the opportunity to go nab some refreshments.

"This is actually sort of fun," Harry said as they made their way towards one of the tables with their punch. "Not nearly as hideous as I remember."

"I'm glad," Padma said. "Balls can either be delightful or positively horrid, I think."

"You want to sit this one out too?" Harry asked, following Viktor's example and pulling a chair out for Padma before settling in himself.

"Sure," She agreed. "Seems like everybody is taking a break now. We can go back out when Celestina comes back."

"Oh no you don't," Hermione exclaimed, approaching the table in time to hear that last. "Don't think you can monopolize Harry for the whole night."

"I wouldn't dream," Padma said, smiling in amusement. "I'm assuming you're planning to steal my date."

"Steal? No. Let's say borrow."

"I am still here," Harry said, waving a hand between the two.

"Don't bother," Viktor said, leaning across the table conspiratorially as he sat down as well and slid a drink towards Hermione. "Just be quiet and let them decide your fate."

"Your English has improved," Harry observed, just noticing for the first time.

"You think?" Viktor smiled with obvious pride. "I had to vork very hard on it. Ve travel a lot vith the team." He glanced over at Hermione and then reached a broom-calloused finger to outline the arch of her neck as she talked with Padma. "And Her-mi-ney has helped me, as veil."

"She's a good teacher," Harry agreed.

Viktor's eyes narrowed, and Harry shifted uneasily under his intense stare. "Yes," He said after a moment. "Very good."

"She teaches Ron and I charms and stuff all the time," Harry said hastily, suddenly feeling like he had said something wrong and not really knowing what.

"That's only because you don't pay enough attention to learn them yourselves in class," Hermione put in, rolling her eyes expressively.

"No schoolwork at the ball," Ron protested, coming up behind Hermione.

"We just finished exams," Ginny agreed, as she, William, and Samantha straggled in. "No charms or transfiguration, or Merlin forbid, potions for three weeks, thank you."

"It is vonderful being out of school," Viktor observed. "A bit strange though."

"You're not going to university?" Ron asked, casting Hermione a significant look. "Don't you think furthering your studies is important?"

Viktor eyed him a moment, looking a bit put off. "I have chosen to focus on Quidditch for now. I do not have any long-range plans. I may stay Vith Quidditch after the next Vorld Cup, perhaps not." He smiled pleasantly at Ron. "And I do not just play Quidditch. I have other commitments, as veil."

"Hmph," Ron said, subsiding back into his chair.

"There you all are," A twin exclaimed, striding up to their table. "This is better than stripping Veelas!"

"Say that again?" Angelina asked sweetly, emerging from the crowd followed by George, Lee, and the other two chasers.

"Er, I like the entertainment?" Fred offered, smiling winningly.

"Anyway," George said, giving his brother a 'shut up before you get in deeper' look. "You seen Malfoy? He looks like an utter ponce."

"No," Ron said, brightening. "Where is he?"

Before anyone could answer the unobtrusive strains of a formal dance number were replaced by Celestina Warbeck's distinctive voice. She had once again appeared on the stage, the odd effect making it look like she had apparated. The table the group had occupied was positioned off to the side of the stage, sort of back in a darkened corner. From this angle Harry had a pretty good view of the singer, and for the first time he understood what Fred was going on about.

She was startlingly, spectacularly beautiful in a flashy, shiny sort of way. Her golden blonde hair was loose and flowing past her waste, little gems sparking in its mass. He could see her only in profile, but he could tell that the lie of her features was almost unnaturally perfect. Her shimmery robes clung in all the right places, to all the right things, and Harry caught a flash of slim tanned leg and tiny high-heeled foot as she turned and her skirts swirled.

"Good evening, Hogwarts," She called. "It's such a pleasure to be here tonight in the finest school of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the world." She waited for the enthusiastic applause to die down, then continued. "I'm sure your professors enjoyed that first set, but I have a feeling that most of you would prefer to dance to some more, shall we say, modern music?" There was thunderous agreement, and her laugh rang out sweetly. "I thought so. This next set is taken entirely from my latest album, 'Magic In Me' and I think you'll find it more to your tastes." She turned again, reaching into her robes for her wand, presumably to start the music. Couples began streaming out onto the dance floor, as well as large mixed groups who just formed big circles. Harry was halfway out of his chair, intending to take Hermione up on that dance, when he saw Viktor straighten up abruptly across the table. Harry turned back, following Viktor's fixed gaze up to the stage. That in itself wasn't too unusual, as most of the boys in the room had a hard time tearing their eyes away from the singer. But Celestina Warbeck was looking straight back at Viktor, her wand poised in one hand and the other resting casually on her hip. She flashed Viktor a smile and a tiny nod, so slight that Harry was half sure he'd imagined it.

Then the music began with a shriek of guitars, and Hermione was gripping his hand.

"You don't mind, do you?" She asked Viktor as she rounded the table.

"Vat? Oh, no. Go right ahead," Viktor assured, glancing only fleetingly at them. As he looked back over Hermione's shoulder a moment later, Harry saw the Bulgarian frowning intensely, looking remarkably displeased.

"Having fun?" Hermione asked, distracting Harry by drawing him into the dance.

"Sure," He agreed, glancing about to see what exactly he was supposed to be doing.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Hermione assured. "Just flap your arms sort of and...wiggle. There you go."

"I feel like I'm having some sort of seizure," Harry muttered, mimicking the somewhat spastic movements he could see Fred and Angelina performing.

"Good aerobic exercise," Hermione panted a minute later. "Moody would approve."

"What about you? You enjoying yourself?" Harry asked.

Her broad smile reassured him. "Wonderfully. Viktor is being just delightful. I'm really looking forward to having him over this Christmas. He's never really met any Muggles, you know."

"You'll have a lot to show him, then," Harry observed.

"Everything from the tele to electricity."

"Elicrity," Harry grinned back. "All those fascinating butteries and sackets."

"Oh hush," She giggled, incorporating a little Harry thump into her dancing. "Be nice to the silly, pureblooded wizards, will you?"

"Speaking of purebloods," Harry said, nearly tripping as he spoke, "There's Malfoy. Bloody hell, he looks like he's wearing pajamas."

Hermione swiveled and then leaned back against him, shaking in silent laughter. Draco Malfoy was halfway across the dance floor, looking supremely enraged as he danced with a simpering Pansy Parkinson. His light green dress robes were astonishingly frilly and lacey, looking like nothing more than an overdone nightgown for a Victorian lady.

"Is that supposed to look...I don't know...rich?" Harry asked, his hands going automatically to Hermione's waist as she leaned against him. The fabric of her dress was surprisingly silky to the touch, tantalizing his hands with stolen warmth from the skin beneath and the shape of curved hips.

"Probably," Hermione agreed. "But if you ask me he looks like a Draca, not a Draco."

"At least he has good enough taste not to like Parkinson," Harry noted, realizing with a start that his thumbs were caressing Hermione's waist. She felt heavy in his arms, not in a physical way but more in his mind, in the place where she mattered so much to him and where her life was such a part of his. In that moment as they laughed together and the scent of her hair filled his mind nothing else mattered. His worries and fears, the nearly constant ache in his gut and his confusion over Sirius and Dumbledore and the Dementors melted away, their places in his mind taken up and overflowing with Hermione.

"He does look sort of...pissy, doesn't he?" She agreed, apparently unaware of his momentary pause.

"He usually does when she's around," Harry said, his voice sounding a bit strained to his own ears. Hermione threw him a confused look over her shoulder, stepping out of his loose embrace in the process and returning to a more traditional dancing distance.

"He keeps looking over here," She observed.

"Probably has some nastiness planned for me," Harry said morosely. "Either that or just expressing general malice."

"Probably," Hermione agreed distractedly, looking back at Malfoy again. Harry followed her gaze, fully expecting to meet a pair of icy gray eyes. For the second time in ten minutes, however, he was surprised by what he saw. Malfoy was looking in their direction, and he was certainly glaring. But it wasn't at Harry. Harry turned, for the first time asserting himself in his dancing as he guided Hermione around and followed the line of Draco's gaze.

Ron and Padma had paired up for this dance, and were chatting idly a few feet back. To their left Samantha was looking supremely nervous as she partnered William, casting him intimidated glances as he tried to speak with her. That left Viktor, who had partnered a smiling Ginny. Harry frowned in confusion as he glanced between Malfoy and Krum. By all rights it should be Ron the Slytherin was glaring at, or more likely Harry himself. He hadn't even known Krum and Malfoy really knew each other on any more substantial basis than site. But the sheer unadulterated rage in Malfoy's eyes spoke of some unspeakable crime on Viktor's part.

Harry frowned in confusion as he and Hermione finished up the dance. It seemed like a lot of people knew Krum tonight, and their reactions were very strange.

"Want another drink?" Hermione offered, a little breathless from the exuberant dance.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but the words never came. A small, soft hand clasped his arm gently. He looked down straight into a pair of dark brown eyes.

"Hi," Cho said softly. "You free for that dance now?"

Harry was frozen a moment, feeling like a fiery ice pick had been driven through his chest. She was stunning in heavy red robes, so dark they were nearly purple. Her short hair had been curled and styled to reveal the little red gems flashing in her ears. Harry was struck dumb by how small she looked.

"Yeah," He said just as quietly. He glanced back up at Hermione, who stood poised, looking like she couldn't decide whether to look away or not. "Um, I'll be back soon. Why don't you dance with Ron?" He added, spotting a shock of red-orange bobbing their way through the crowd.

He didn't see her reaction, for Cho still had hold of his arm and was drawing him gently back onto the floor. Harry felt a little unreal as they wound their way through the crowd to find a spot. Last year he would have given his Firebolt--well maybe not his Firebolt, maybe the Triwizard Cup--for just one dance with her. Now the very thought scared him enough so his hands shook slightly as he placed them on Cho's waist.

"Oh good," She said as the music started. "I didn't think I could handle another upbeat one right now, anyway."

"Yeah," Harry said, realizing that it was the only thing he had said. "A lot more tiring than they look," He added.

The song was soft, rippling piano chords twining themselves around the dancers and melding with the tinkle of Celestina's voice in a slow but intense rhythm. The stars above dimmed a little, as did the moon, birthing shadows all over the hall, which twisted and turned amongst the dancers.

"Thank you for the letter," Cho said after a moment.

"Er, you're welcome," Harry replied, completely at a loss about what to say next.

"It helped me," She continued, her eyes never wavering from his. "It probably helped you too."

"Yeah," He said, again.

"It just seems so...silly, you know?" She said, her eyes sad. "You and Cedric both in the tournament, me dating Cedric, you--well, you know. And then he dies."

Harry went rigid, the room spinning around him in a kaleidoscopic maelstrom of all his worst nightmares. "I didn't," He choked, "He--I never--You have to bel--"

"I'm not accusing you," She said, looking even sadder. "Not at all. It just seems too much." She laughed, and Harry had never heard a less humorous sound. "Do you ever feel like things are too real?" She asked abruptly.

"I...yes," He replied, taken aback by the naked truth in her gaze and the accuracy of her question.

"Like there was a time when things were okay, were beautiful even." She paused, gazing intensely into his eyes. "I loved him." Harry would have looked away if he could, but he felt like she had hold of him, had caught him in her web of grief and pain. It was only fair, he supposed, for she had been caught in his from the moment he put quill to parchment. "And I never told him that. I didn't have to. We had so much time, to grow and learn about each other. We could just hold hands and slow dance and say silly things to each other."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, the words the smallest and largest thing he could say all at once.

"Me too," She agreed.

"Is that why you wanted to dance with me?" Harry asked after a long pause. "To tell me you loved him?"

She looked up, appearing to be very surprised. "No, not at all. I thought--you're letter--you understand, don't you?" Her eyes were suddenly huge and lost and scared, like a little child who had stumbled into a whole new world where there were no training wheels or band aids.

"I think, maybe, yeah," He agreed slowly. "It's like you're all alone now and everything is just so much bigger."

"Exactly," She agreed. "Everything is too big and too much and too complicated and it make too much sense."

"Not good sense," Harry finished, nodding. "The kind of sense that can drive you mad." It occurred to him suddenly that somebody else listening to their conversation would probably have no conception of what they meant, how these words didn't even start to explain how they felt.

"I thought you might," Cho nodded. "In your letter, it seemed like maybe you knew how it is to need to know and not want to at the same time."

"I've felt like that a lot lately," Harry said, his mind flashing to Dumbledore and Sirius again.

"The reason I wanted to dance with you was to offer my help," She said slowly, cautiously.

"Your help?" Harry asked, surprised. "With what?"

"You know," She said, smiling gently and for the first time making Harry remember that she was older than he was. "With the fight. Dumbledore said last year that...he...was back, but I couldn't believe it then, couldn't think that Cedric was the first to go." She looked away for the first time, though the lack of her gaze was nearly as heavy as its presence. "And that he wouldn't be the last." She inhaled a deep, shuddering breath. "But your letter made it real in a better way than that, a way that doesn't hurt to think about. I want to help you."

"Thank you," Harry breathed, more touched than he knew possible. "That means so much. So many people are just too scared."

"Oh, I am," She said, smiling wryly. I still can't even say his name without either flinching or bursting into tears. But I need to do something, you know? For Cedric, and for me."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "I, er, I think about him sometimes when I get too scared or tired. You remember what Dumbledore said at the end of last year? He said to remember, and I do."

"Good," She said warmly. "Good for you and for him. I think he would be proud to know he can help you, even now. I think about him too, and he gets me out of bed every morning."

Harry drew her close without thought, pressing her slim form to his chest. He felt one burning hot tear through his robes, but that was all. She didn't make a sound, didn't tremble.

"Just let me know," She said, drawing away and not bothering to wipe away the solitary tear track. "Just tell me when you need me, and I'll be there."

"I will," Harry vowed quietly. He had no fears for her safety, no qualms about putting her in danger like he normally would have. She needed to be there just as much as he did, for she understood the precariousness of life, she knew exactly what she was offering.

They finished the dance in silence, not looking at each other even once. Harry felt a little like he had his first year after the troll thing, when he and Ron had just known each other and Hermione in a way that surpassed childhood. He felt like he knew Cho intimately, like he understood the hole in her heart that would never quite heal right.

They parted at the end of the song with a brief hand-squeeze and a nod. Harry headed off the dance floor and back to the table, not really cognizant of the world around him as his emotions whirled and tumbled. He felt relieved first and foremost, for he could acknowledge now that he had honestly been expecting her to blame him. But at the same time he was unsettled by the childlike timelessness in Cho's eyes, the way she wore her grief like a veil that he alone could see through to the frightened girl beneath. She was right, it was too real. Cedric's death had been the moment in Harry's life, in Cho's as well he knew, when growing up was no longer an abstract joke. They lived in this world where people died and didn't come back, where you never got to say "I love you," and where only a few people bothered to fight back. He couldn't really say for sure, but he suspected the Cho he had just danced with was not the same Cho who had gently turned down his awkward, stammering invitation to last year's ball. And he wasn't the same Harry either, who had been captivated by her flashing white teeth and shiny black hair.

Harry sank down into a chair with his back to the wall so he could watch the dancers twirl by. Ron was just parting with Hermione, looking flushed and delighted, but also grumpy as Viktor spun her away. William and Ginny were dancing again, and to Harry's eye Ginny looked a bit tense. He frowned, realizing for the first time that he hadn't seen her really relaxed and carefree in months. He remembered all to well her response the last time he had offered her a willing ear, but something told him that maybe he should try again.

"Why are you sitting out?" Ron asked, approaching the table and taking the seat across from Harry.

"Nobody to dance with at the moment," Harry replied, nodding in relieved thanks as Ron offered him a new glass of punch.

"I'm sure you would just have to ask," Ron said casually. "Most girls would love to dance with you."

As if on cue Susan Bones approached their table, smiling hesitantly. "Harry?" She asked. "You mind a dance?"

"Uh, sure," Harry agreed, for lack of a polite way to refuse. He felt a little strange dancing with a girl he had barely spoken two sentences to in five years, but she seemed nice enough.

After Susan it was Hannah Abbott, then a blushing and stammering Samantha, and Padma again.

"You're quite the popular one," She remarked as they made their way back towards the table.

"This scar is an essential accessory to dress robes, don't you know?"

"I'm sure. You know, if we were still dating, I think I'd have to be jealous."

"That's probably part of the point," Harry remarked, his eyes flicking across the room to where Parvati was dancing with Seamus.

"So is there any of your or my friends you *haven't* danced with?" She asked playfully.

"Actually, yes." Harry grinned right back as they approached the table where the rest of their friends were taking a break. "Ginny, you want to dance?"

Ginny glanced up from where she had been chatting with Hermione, looking surprised and pleased. "Sure," She said, rising and dropping her translucent blue shawl over the back of her chair.

They headed out onto the dance floor arm in arm, Ginny's sky blue robes fluttering about her ankles. Harry had a little shock as he turned to face her and realized that she was only an inch or two shorter than he was. He had grown in the past few months, but it appeared Ginny had been busy too. From what Harry had seen, there were two varieties of Weasley. Either short and stocky like the twins, or incredibly tall and gangly like Ron. It appeared Ginny was destined for the latter. It was a little strange for Harry, who was used to being able to look down at Ginny, one of the few people for whom he could claim that.

"So, how is it going?" He asked, feeling a bit lame.

"Fine." She smiled humorously. "William isn't stepping on my toes much at all."

For the first time Harry realized he hadn't seen Neville in the common room, or heard anything about his date. "Neville didn't ask again?" He asked.

"No," She responded, then frowned. "Actually, I don't know who he's going with. Have you seen him?"

"No." Harry took another look around the hall, frowning as he didn't spot his friend anywhere. "I don't see him, and I haven't all night."

"Maybe he didn't come," Ginny said, shrugging.

"I suppose," Harry said doubtfully, though a niggling uneasiness had crept into his gut. He pondered on it for a moment as they danced, confused by its origins. It wouldn't be too unusual for someone to skip the ball. Granted, most of the third through seventh years were present, but he bet there were at least a few who had chosen not to attend. It just didn't seem like a Neville thing to do. He always seemed to go to things, to try out different activities even if he didn't really want to. And he had appeared to have an enjoyable time last year, from what Harry had seen.

His thoughts were distracted as he felt Ginny's body go rigid beneath his hands. She was practically quivering, like she would have liked to run if she could.

"Woe, you alright?" He asked, looking down at her taught face.

"It's nothing," She said, making a visible effort to relax. "Just, um, Malfoy."

"Where?" Harry looked around again and spotted Malfoy halfway around the dance floor, glaring daggers at the two of them. "Oh, don't mind him. He's just being Malfoy."

"I know," She agreed, though she didn't sound like she really believed it.

Harry returned Malfoy's venomous look more out of habit than anything, drawing Ginny closer against him as he did. Malfoy looked very much like he would have liked to walk straight over and forgo duels for a good old-fashioned punch to the nose. Harry frowned a little in confusion, for Malfoy was usually the calculating one, the one who let his rage simmer and serve his own purposes, not take over and do the talking for him.

Shrugging, and deciding not to let thoughts of the Slytherin git ruin his evening, Harry turned away, bringing Ginny with him. He'd had a purpose in asking her to dance with him, above and beyond mere friendly politeness, and he wouldn't let Malfoy distract him from that, either.

"Ginny?" He asked, trying to recapture her attention.

"Yeah?" She replied, returning her gaze to him.

"Um, I've been meaning to ask you if everything is alright. I know you said it was a while ago, but you have been looking a little upset sometimes..." He trailed off, looking at her questioningly. He was confused by the momentary flash of fear he saw in her eyes, but shrugged it off as her expression melted back into friendly politeness.

"I'm fine, really." She paused a moment, apparently aware that he didn't believe a word of that. "Um, I just have been thinking a lot this year. And things are changing, including me. It's nothing to worry about, really. I think the holidays will do me some good, especially the time at home."

"Alright," He said. He did after all understand changes, and the havoc they could reek in your own mind. "You'll let me know if you want to talk or anything? I mean, I know we're not all that close, but I, er, I'd like to help you if you need it."

"I'm sure you would," She answered, a soft smile transforming her features. "But honestly, it's alright. Nothing I can't handle."

"Okay," He agreed, releasing her waist as the song drew to a close.

Celestina Warbeck's voice floated out over them as they turned to head off the dance floor, informing them that she was taking a short break and would be back soon. What Harry supposed was a pre-recorded set of songs began playing as she left the stage, in a more conventional manner this time.

"She's lovely," Ginny sighed as they paused to watch her swirl off the platform and exit the hall. "I just adore her music."

"Did you want to sit this one out?" Harry asked, noting that many people were heading for the refreshments or tables.

"That's no fun," Hermione put in, coming up behind them with Ron and Viktor. "I'm just getting started, myself."

"I think I'll go sit down, actuall--" Ginny began, but Viktor put out a hand and stopped her.

"Please," He said warmly. "Dance vith me again."

She hesitated a moment, then acquiesced with a smile. "Sure, if Hermione doesn't mind."

"Of course not. Ron and I need to have another go, I think."

This seemed to be news to Ron, but he didn't look particularly upset about it.

"Er, I'll just go sit down then," Harry said, shrugging as the four of them moved off.

He spotted Padma with a group of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, and Samantha and William moving to join the other four. It was a surprise, then, to approach their table and see that it was not entirely unoccupied. An unfamiliar girl was sitting with her back to the dance floor, a stream of light blonde hair cascading down her back as she tossed off a glass of iced punch.

"Hi," Harry said as he approached. He wasn't all that good with people he didn't know, and he was hoping this wouldn't be too awkward.

"Hello," She returned, not turning around. "I'm sorry if I'm stealing your table..."

"Oh no," Harry hurried to assure, rounding the table to take a seat of his own. "Plenty of space, and everybody else is off dancing any--" He cut off abruptly as he sat down and faced her fully. He had only had brief glimpses of her actual face, but those glittering robes and that hair were unmistakable. "You're Celestina Warbeck!" He blurted out.

"And you're Harry Potter," She shot back, her smile amused.

"Er, yeah," He agreed, dumbfounded. "What are you doing out here? Er, I don't mean to be rude or anything."

"Just relaxing," She said, tapping her punch glass with the tip of her wand and then sipping at the rejuvenated contents. "Singing is thirsty work, and it gets very hot up there." She tossed her head up towards the stage, a sheet of gold flecked hair catching in the starlight. "

"I wouldn't know," Harry remarked. "I can't sing to save my life."

"Oh, everybody can sing." She set down her glass and leaned forward, laughing a little at his incredulous look. "No, really. Anybody can sing. Just not everybody can carry a tune."

"I suppose," Harry said dubiously. "But does it count if you sound sort of like a ghoul with a cold?"

She laughed, the sound as pleasantly tinkly as her singing. "Still counts," She reassured. "So," she continued after a moment, "Why aren't you out there dancing up a storm? The girls must be all over you."

"I guess," Harry said, feeling himself flush and hoping the dim lighting would hide it. "I've been dancing a lot though, and I'm a bit knackered."

"Any special girls tonight?" She asked, sounding rather eager.

"Well, I've been dating somebody," Harry explained, gesturing vaguely in Padma's direction. "But we're not really together anymore. Just friends. Aside from her, not really."

"Hmm," She said, her expression thoughtful. "Surprising that you don't have a girlfriend. I would think the girls would be tripping over each other to get to you. Oh, stop that," She added, waving at Harry's embarrassed stammerings. "Believe me, I understand. Sometimes I swear men do the silliest things to try to impress me. And they always have this dopey awe-struck look..." She trailed off, grinning at Harry's rueful nod. "So you do know, then. I thought you would."

"I do get a little tired of it sometimes," Harry admitted, feeling for the first time like he could say that and not have his listener scoff or roll their eyes. "It's like they see me and their eyes flick up towards my scar."

"Hmm. For me, their eyes flick downwards, but that's a little different," Celestina said, laughing again. Harry had to work hard not to suit action to words, for her robes were rather low cut in the front.

"In principle, I suppose," He agreed, a bit embarrassed by her boldness. If he didn't know any better, he would swear she was flirting with him. But that was silly. She had to be at least two or three years older than him, and he didn't really want to be flirting with anybody at the moment, anyway. His split with Padma was too recent, too knew and raw to be covered with the affections of another.

She frowned momentarily, as if disappointed by something, but then she brightened as a breathless group approached from behind. "Are these your friends?" She asked, swiveling to face the approaching group.

"Yeah," Harry said, standing as they reached the table. "Er, guys, this is Celestina Warbeck. These are my friends--that's Ron and Hermione, and Viktor Krum, and Ron's sister Ginny and her friend Samantha, and that's William and Padma."

"Lovely to meet you all," Celestina said, rising as well and sketching a half bow. Most of the group were rather gob smacked to see her, but Viktor didn't seem phased at all. Harry figured that being famous himself he was rather immune to all the dazzle.

"Vould you all like more punch?" He asked. That seemed to break the moment, and Ginny shyly greeted Celestina as everybody else called orders to Viktor and took seats around the table.

"More for you, as veil, Harry?" Viktor asked, turning to him.

"Thanks, yes," Harry said, nodding in thanks as the Bulgarian hurried off through the crowd.

"So, Celestina, can I call you Celestina?" The singer smiled and nodded, looking slightly amused at Ginny's nervousness. "You've been over on the mainland, haven't you?"

"Yes. Though I honestly didn't get to see much. It's just been in and out every few days, a concert or ten and then the next country." She shrugged, looking rueful. "I only got to take a break in Paris, and that was lovely."

"I adore Paris," Hermione sighed. "My father took me when I was nine. We only did the Muggle things then (my parents are Muggles, you see) and I'd love to go back and see the magical side of France."

"Oh, it's delightful," Celestina exclaimed. "They have a sort of Diagon Alley. Just don't ask me to pronounce the name, my French is atrocious. It runs along the River Seine." She smiled at Hermione's disbelieving look. "No, really. If you go back now I'm willing to bet it will look quite a bit different to you. There are Muggle repelling charms all over the whole area, that's why it all looks so dirty and run down to the Muggles. It's actually quite beautiful."

"That's fascinating!" Hermione exclaimed, delighted. "Do they use illusion charms, as well?"

"You traveled much, Harry?" Celestina asked, apparently not hearing Hermione's last question.

"Actually, no." He said. "Never been out of England. Never been anywhere but Surrey, Hogwarts, and London a few times, as a matter of fact."

"And my house," Ron put in, speaking for the first time.

"That's a shame," Celestina sighed, not taking her eyes off Harry. "There are so many beautiful things to see in England, in the world as well, both wizard and Muggle."

"Here ve are," Viktor said, approaching the table and somehow managing to balance over half a dozen glasses. "Here, Harry. And the rest of you, it's freshly made."

Harry accepted the glass, swirling the punch inside and watching the little gold threads dance in it. He wondered idly what those were, deciding to ask Hermione or Ron later. He tipped the drink back, enjoying the icy refreshment after the long set of dances.

"So, how many more sets will there be?" William asked, speaking to Celestina.

"Just one more," She said, smiling in a pleased manner at their disappointed groans. "Have any of you looked at a clock recently? It's around eleven thirty."

"Really?" Harry glanced up from his drink, surprised at the lateness of the hour. He supposed this year's ball really was different from last year's, which had practically crawled by. He flicked his eyes around the hall, but didn't spot a clock anywhere. As he turned back to the table his eyes caught Celestina's surprising violet ones. Harry felt a shock run through him, something hot and stabbing which went straight to his gut and seemed to turn it to liquid. He found it hard to look away from those eyes, their unusual color complementing Celestina's golden tan to perfection.

"As a matter of fact," She said, the motion drawing Harry's gaze down from her eyes to her full, pink lips, "The next set should be starting in three songs, and I don't intend to sit them all out. Harry, would you do me the honor?"

"Of course," He agreed, standing and joining her on the other side of the table. He offered his arm as he had been seeing other boys do all night, and felt an odd frisson of something shoot through him as she touched him. He felt like he was floating instead of walking as they made their way out onto the dance floor. He could vaguely hear people whispering around the hall, see some pointing at them excitedly, but these things which would have embarrassed and discomfited him at any other time didn't seem to matter right then.

He forgot about them entirely as they began to dance. Celestina was a wonderful dancer, seeming to flow as much as move. Harry felt a bit self-conscious with her, knowing he could never match up, but she kept smiling reassuringly and her hands were steady and sure on his back.

"I'm really glad I met you," She said as they circled the floor.

"It was a nice surprise," He agreed. "I didn't expect to be making any new friends tonight."

"I like your friends," She continued, smiling warmly at him. "A solid group of friends is one of the most important things you can have, no matter who you are."

"What about you? Are your friends in Britain?"

"Oh, I have friends everywhere." She smiled a little strangely and her hands tightened almost painfully on his shoulder and back. I can barely go anywhere without running into a...friend."

Harry frowned in confusion, following her glance back over to the table where Viktor was speaking softly to Hermione. That niggling feeling was back, like he knew something he didn't quite know, and it was driving him mad.

"But I can always use another friend," Celestina continued, breaking his concentration. "Harry, would you mind if I owled you?"

"Not at all. I'd like that, actually." Harry smiled back, all confusion evaporating in a warm flood of pleasure at her interest. It was strange, he mused. He'd never been effected quite like this by a girl before. Though he had to admit he'd never seen someone quite so beautiful as Celestina. Just looking at her made him feel all hot and prickly all over, and set his stomach to churning in a not entirely unpleasant way.

"You'll be at Hogwarts this holiday?" She asked.

Harry nodded, vaguely registering that the song had ended and a new one had begun. "I always stay here during the holidays."

An intensely serious expression fell across her face. It seemed out of place on features which seemed made for smiling and laughing. "It's probably best," She murmured. "Safer."

Harry nearly tripped, but caught himself just in time. He hadn't thought about Voldemort all night, and it was a bit of a shock to hear a reference like that. He felt rather relieved, though, that Celestina was one of those who seemed to believe in his return. It occurred to him suddenly that he should have considered that before, for it would be difficult, nearly impossible, for him to carry on a friendship with somebody who was so willfully blind like Fudge.

"I'll be in America for several weeks," Celestina said, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. "I've never been there before, but my manager has decided it's time to expand the concert circuit out there, as well."

"Will owls be able to reach you there?" Harry asked, frowning. He didn't want to fly Hedwig to an early grave with enormously long trips.

"Oh, they'll manage," She assured, her hair spilling over Harry's hands as she nodded. "There's this owl relay system, I think. They take breaks and let another go on for a while. Plus some owls are incredibly fast."

"Hedwig, my owl, once went all the way to a tropical island," Harry noted, smiling at the memory.

"Who do you know on a tropical island?" She asked with sudden interest.

"Er, nobody," Harry answered hurriedly, shocked at his loose tongue. I think she was just exploring.

Celestina shrugged, frowning in what could have been confusion.

"Anyway," He continued hastily, "When are you leaving?"

"Day after Christmas," She sighed. "I had a whole two weeks back in Britain." She brightened a little as she went on, "But I'll be back in a month for a few more weeks, and that should be nice."

"You miss your family?" Harry asked.

"My mum, yeah. It's just her and I, now." A flash of grief clouded her eyes, then was gone. "My father left three years ago, and my older brother has been dead since I was about four years old."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry said, wondering how common it was for wizarding families to be missing members like that. Professor McKinnon had worn practically the same expression as Celestina did now when she told them about her husband, child, and sister.

"It's alright," She said, smile returning. "It's been a long time. But yes, I do miss my mum horribly when I travel. You live with relatives, right? I'm sure you miss them during the school year."

"Er, of course," Harry said, his nose wrinkling at the very thought. "We're not that close, though."

"Oh dear," She sighed, coming to a halt as the current song ended. "I've really got to get back and touch up a bit before the last set." Harry would have liked to point out that he thought she looked fine, better than fine, but he didn't have a chance. Celestina leaned close and planted a light kiss on his cheek, very close to the corner of his mouth, effectively blanking out all coherent sentences in his head.

"I'll owl you," She said quietly. "It's been a pleasure."

"Yeah," He croaked, his hand reluctantly detangling itself from her hair as she stepped back.

She turned and swirled away, disappearing behind the stage. Harry stood in the middle of the dance floor for a long moment, feeling like he had just taken a breath of fresh air after standing in a stifling room. He only moved when he became aware of the many pairs of eyes on him, most of them glaring.

He hurried off the dance floor and back to the table, flushing furiously under the combined scrutiny of half the school, most of whom were busily whispering behind their hands.

"Well, that was unexpected," Hermione remarked as Harry approached and retook his seat.

"She seems really nice," Ginny observed, watching Harry with hooded eyes.

"And she kissed you!" Ron said, a little too loud for Harry's tastes.

"Er, not like that," He said a little uncomfortably. "Just a friendly goodbye, you know?" He became suddenly aware of Padma's eyes on him and the little lines of hurt around her mouth.

Ron looked like he would have liked to ask more, but he jumped as if someone had kicked him under the table. Harry had his money on Hermione.

"Oh, this has been so exciting," Samantha sighed, looking nearly rapturously around at Harry and Viktor, then flicking her eyes up towards the stage. Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Ron frowning in irritation at her star-struck expression.

"Anyway," He said hastily, "You all up for the last set? It looks like it's about to start."

The rest of the evening was spent pleasantly enough. Harry switched off partners with his friends and a few other Gryffindors and their dates. He was rather relieved that nobody else he didn't know too well approached him. He suspected he had that dance with Celestina to thank for that, and reminded himself to express his gratitude to her later.

Padma was a little quiet as they danced the last number, a slow romantic piece that had pretty much everybody, including the professors out on the dance floor. Harry tried to engage her in conversation about everything from the ball to homework, but she was monosyllabic at best. He felt a bit bad about that, but he figured there wasn't much he could do about it. If she was jealous, as he suspected, it probably wouldn't do any good to tell her that there really wasn't anything to be jealous over. They weren't together anymore, and friends didn't need to get all silent and hurt when their date danced with somebody else. No matter how close they danced or how Harry really wouldn't have minded spending the rest of the evening in Celestina's company.

Celestina herself closed out the ball with a few thanks to their kind reception of her, and to Dumbledore for inviting her. Most people were back at the tables by then, gathering up shawls and bags and saying goodnights. Harry caught her eye as he turned, and nearly made a fool out of himself by tripping over a chair. She smiled sweetly at him, those unusually colored eyes flashing at him as she mouthed a goodnight.

As the crowd began reluctantly heading out into the entrance hall and back to their respective dorms Harry found himself smiling rather inanely. He paused with everybody else as the crowd bottlenecked at the main doors before streaming out and in various directions.

"...Hiding behind an illusion charm," He heard behind him. Harry jumped, afraid for a moment that he had been discovered. He glanced cautiously over his shoulder and spotted Parvati, Lavender, and some of the older Gryffindor girls behind him. "I mean," Parvati continued, "Did you see her eyes? There's no way that color purple is natural. And her hair. They say blondes have more fun, and I guess she took that to heart, the slut."

Harry rolled his eyes, turning back and making his way through the crowd after his friends. She was probably talking about Celestina, who, now that he thought about it, did have rather unnaturally colored eyes. It was funny, he mused as he said his goodnights to Padma and Viktor, who would be staying in London for a day before going to meet Hermione at her house. He usually didn't like girls who went out of their way to alter their appearance. He found some of Lavender and Parvati's make-up routines disturbingly unnatural. It was odd that he hadn't even noticed on Celestina.

He shrugged it off, trudging along with the rest of the Gryffindors up the main stairs. He hadn't really realized how tired he was until everybody was talking longingly about bed. "Still need to pack," Ron muttered beside him.

"You haven't packed yet?" Hermione asked through a yawn. "Ron, we're leaving at noon tomorrow."

"Plenty of time."

Harry made his way up to the dorm to the sound of Hermione's exasperated sniff. He ducked behind his curtains and tossed off his dress robes, then kicked his shoes under his bed. He had already fumbled his way into pajamas before he remembered the illusion charm. He stood with wand in hand a moment, frowning down at himself. It couldn't hurt, he decided, to just leave it on. It would look strange, after all, if he suddenly lost about five pounds after the ball, anyway.

Shrugging, Harry dropped his wand on his bedside table and crawled into bed. He lay completely still for a long moment, just listening to Ron and the others chatting quietly as they readied for bed. It had been, Harry decided, a lovely evening.

He turned onto his side and tucked his pillow into the crook of his neck, sighing in contentment. All his worries, and those strange feelings he'd been getting all night were forgotten as he drifted away on a comfy cloud of waltzes and long, Blonde hair.

***