An Orchid By Any Other Name

Chapter 2- at the sign of the silver spoon

As Harry packed his trunk, he could hear Mrs. Weasley telling Ron, "If you two miss the train it's on your own heads! You are of age, so do as you like, but don't say I didn't warn you! You have a big day tomorrow!"

"Ron, where are you going? You just got back!" Hermione demanded.

"Oh, Fred and George just wanted us to stay over there tonight, you know, hang out before we have to go back to school," Ron lied.

"How are you getting to the train?"

"Apparating."

"And we have to take your stuff? That hardly sounds fair." Hermione was always a little bitter about Apparating, as she wasn't 17 yet and hated to be bested by Harry and Ron on anything.

"Come upstairs while I pack up my trunk."

"Hi," said Harry as Ron and Hermione came in. Hermione noticed that Harry was putting his invisibility cloak and dress robes into his backpack.

"What are you taking those for? I thought you are just going to the twins' place."

"Oh! Well, we just-" Harry stammered.

"Harry!" called Mrs. Weasley. Relieved, Harry ran downstairs. "Here, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she handed Harry some assorted stuff that he had forgotten around the house.

"Thanks," he said as he took his broom polish, washed socks, and extra jacket back upstairs to put away.

"Come on, Hermione, we can make up for lost time on the train tomorrow," Harry heard from Ron's room.

"How do you mean?" Hermione asked playfully.

"I'll show you."

Judging by the silence that followed, Harry thought it wise to re-route and go get Hegwig from Ginny's room instead. She preferred to stay with the girls because Pig was annoying her in Ron's room. Harry talked loudly to Hedwig as he approached Ron's room again, to let them know he was coming.

Harry and Ron grabbed their trunks and took them downstairs, grabbed their brooms and backpacks, and Apparated to the twins' place after saying good bye to the family.

Fred and George were waiting for them, dressed and masked, in their loft apartment above the shop. "Come on, it's 9:00 already. Get dressed and let's go," Fred told Harry and Ron. Minutes later, totally unrecognizable, they left the shop and mounted their brooms.

Diagon Alley was pretty much deserted at night, so they flew through the streets easily. Knockturn Alley, on the contrary, was teeming. Apparently, many of its shoppers prefer not to go out until twilight. Dismounting, they walked on to The Silver Spoon, an imposing stone structure, covered all over in ivy with patina-green copper roof and awnings. They entered silently under a large banner, which read 'Welcome Masqueraders', through an arched tunnel, and found that the building was actually O-shaped, encircling an open-air courtyard. The rooms at the inn had balconies facing into the courtyard; each was emblazoned with the coat-of- arms of some old wizarding family.

All around the enclosure were placed long tables, and at one end, on a raised platform, sat an especially grand table, at which was seated Draco Malfoy. Even with a white satin eyemask, he was unmistakable. Harry was grateful for his faceless mask- with his hood raised, he felt confidant that no one could recognize him. He looked at Ron, who looked extra-mysterious with double-breasted robes of dark gray suiting and the Satin top hat atop his invisible head. "Just make sure that hat stays on," said Harry.

Fred and George seated themselves at a table near Malfoy's end and Harry noticed them inserting certain flesh-colored strings into their ears. The manager stepped up on a dais, tapped his throat with his wand, muttered 'Sonorous', and said, "My dear respectable witches and wizards, in the preservation of great tradition, please assemble for a spider's waltz. Ladies form one circle, facing inwards, and gentlemen surround them, facing outward. When the music starts, the circles should rotate, everyone to his or her left. When the music stops, turn around and face your partner for a dance."

Harry and Ron joined the throng, not wanting to stick out. They did as instructed, and when the music stopped, they turned. Harry was looking into the eyes of his true love. She was blushing, as he must have been. Thank god for the faceless mask he thought. They took each other's hands and felt the electricity of lovers' first touch, and they danced together as though their feet had wings, without any of the nervousness or self-consciousness Harry had felt at the Yule ball. In fact, they were wholly unaware of everything save each other's eyes. His green, hers gray. After a time, finding themselves as close together as the pages of a closed book, Harry spoke. "I don't think I know who you are."

"Of course you don't, but yet I feel I know you."

"Yes."

"I can't see your lips, but I think I want to kiss them."

"Well, I can see yours, and I'm sure I want to kiss them, but I'm afraid I'll wake up and find out that I'm only dreaming."

"Try it and see."

Harry kissed her tenderly, as if she were made of spun sugar. His hands felt the many-shaded layers of gauzy white and purple silk that covered her, bound over her abdomen with gold cords in an ancient Grecian style. He kissed her more determinedly, open mouthed, and felt her hair, softer even than the silk gown, an intricate creation of braids and silken ribbons; thick, wavy, and deep reddish brown. His passion increased. Still revolving about the dance floor, his hands hungrily paced her back and sides. Who is this? I'm in love. Am I going crazy?

Pulling back somewhat, he looked into her eyes again. A party mask of purple feathers surrounded them. As she stared back into his eyes, she reached her hand into the velvet hood of his cloak, touched his invisible face, and caressed his hair. As her fingers swept over his forehead, they lingered upon his telltale scar and her face showed surprise, then she smiled knowingly and kissed him again. The music stopped, and while the other partygoers reassembled the spider's waltz circles, Harry led his love off the dance floor, eager to speak with her more.

"What's your na-"

He was interrupted by a load commotion over at Draco's table. Draco and the twins were shouting at each other. "I... I have to leave now," he said abruptly.

"But," holding him around the waist, she whispered, "promise me I'll see you again."

"I promise, although I don't know how to find you," he said, then ran to catch up with his friends. He looked back at her quickly before going out into the night.

The four boys grabbed their brooms and did not speak until they were back in Diagon Alley.

"What happened?" Harry asked them as they neared the shop.

"Malfoy recognized our voices, and challenged us. We put on great Cockney accents and almost wriggled out of it, but then Ron came over to see what was up, tripped, and knocked his hat off," Fred answered.

"And what about you Harry? I saw you all over that girl in the purple. Who is she?" asked Ron.

"I don't know, but I'm madly in love with her," Harry said seriously.

Fred and George laughed boisterously. "You just met her!" said George. "I mean, actually you didn't even meet her! Anyway, bad news, Harry, we know who she is."

"Really?"

"George and I heard Malfoy telling Pansy Parkinson," Fred explained. "Her name's Orchid Malfoy- dear Lucius's only niece."

"She lives in the States; going to Hogwarts this year. Something about her dad disagreeing with the wizarding school over there."

"Whoa. Nice try Harry- wait till she finds out who she was kissing!" roared Ron.

Harry didn't say anything.