Resonance

Chapter 26 -- The Christmas Ball

Harry studied in the library, in the far corner, mostly to avoid Hermione and anyone else who might see fit to remind him he needed a date. He had ten days; that was plenty of time. The previous night he'd seriously considered owling Cho, but upon reviewing her last two letters, decided that she had dropped hints of an engagement that he'd not picked up on before. He'd also looked for Mirna at dinner last night and thought she looked down and teary-eyed, which reminded him of Cho in a bad way.

The whole thing made him angry with McGonagall again. He found himself wanting somewhat to get even.

He sat with his back to the corner, blocked in nicely by shelving and a plant. He was feeling sullen toward Snape and McGonagall, and maybe even Hermione and Ron. His Transfiguration text was not holding his attention. Even his usual method of forcing his attention on a subject, that of imagining himself needing some skill or knowledge as an Auror, wasn't working right now.

A group of students went by, talking in low tones about Quidditch. Harry recognized one of the tall, bulky Slytherin Beaters over the low shelf in front of him. Wereporridge was his name. Harry wondered that he could actually read. Then he heard a familiar high-pitched voice, lilting a bit so as to not sound too loud in the library.

Harry's brow went up as the seed of an idea germinated. What if their little Gryffindor hero took a Slytherin to the ball? he wondered. She most likely wasn't going already since Third Years couldn't unless invited by an older student. The group sat down at a table, talking over a book. Harry tried to hear what they were saying, but couldn't.

Thinking that he'd love to get this over with, Harry stood up and went over to them. Wereporridge gave him a very challenging look as Harry approached. "Can I talk to you for just a moment?" Harry asked Suze.

Wereporridge stood up at that. "What about?" he asked Harry as he towered over him.

"I suppose if I told you it wasn't any of your business, you probably wouldn't go for that," Harry sighed.

"You would suppose correctly," the other boy replied in a low voice.

Harry glanced at the other three; they looked a little alarmed by their fellow's behavior. If he were actually going to take her to the ball, he'd have to be willing to have them know it. "I want to ask Suze to the ball," Harry said to Wereporridge.

"You what?" One of the others asked in disbelief.

Wereporridge pushed his finger painfully into Harry's chest. "Why in the world would she go with a loser Gryffindor?" Harry glanced at Suze--she looked stunned and not much else. Wereporridge went on, shoving Harry with his hand now. "We don't mix with non-Slytherins, get away."

Peeved a little, Harry said, "I am the adopted son of your Head of House, you know."

Wereporridge blinked at that and looked a little concerned as he considered it. Harry ignored him and turned back to Suze. "Uh," Harry said, suddenly not sure the best way to proceed. "Think about it, I guess," he said to her still-stunned gaze. "Let me know."

As he walked back to his corner and picked up his books, he could hear their table whispering avidly. On his way out, he gave Suze a casual smile. At the door to the library he considered going back to the common room. At least if Hermione asked him if he'd asked anyone, he could say he had.

In the corridor Suze caught up with him. "You weren't just teasing in there?" she asked.

"No," Harry answered stridently. "Why would I do that?"

"It wasn't just some Gryffindor practical joke?" she asked next.

Harry stared at her pale eyes, thinking that Snape had no clue how hard this was. His other backup plan, of pretending to invite someone from outside the school and then falling deathly ill the night of the ball from a potion he could cook up, was seeming better all the time. "No," Harry replied, a little frustrated. Feeling like he should explain, he said, "I thought we'd have something to talk about. I discovered at the last ball, that matters more than I expected it to." It occurred to Harry then that she hadn't been in school during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. That, Merlin forbid, she might have learned he won it from a chocolate frog card.

He shrugged. "I really am asking you. And it is up to you," he said.

Her eyes darted around the walls a moment. As though thinking aloud, she said, "I don't get to go otherwise and it sounds like fun. They don't hold them very often." She put her pale hands on her hips. "Why are you inviting me?" she asked curiously.

"I'll be honest with you," Harry said. "I have to invite someone. You are the first person I've asked because you are the first person who came to mind who isn't already dating someone, or who wouldn't be too giggly to spend an evening with."

She studied him a moment. "You are really Professor Snape's son?"

"Yes."

"That is so odd," she breathed. "All right-"

Harry held up his hand and interrupted her. "I feel compelled to warn you," he said. "The press are going to be there, since this ball is partly a show for the outside world." Her eyes narrowed at that. "So if you don't like that kind of attention, you aren't going to like going."

"Clearly, you do," she said sarcastically.

Harry laughed. "I hate this whole thing. I'm trying to make the best of it," he rambled.

"You are telling me that the press are going to be taking pictures at the ball and that my mum and dad might pick up the Prophet at breakfast and see the two of us on the front page?" A strange crooked smile had formed on her face.

"If you view it that way, then you can probably survive the evening."

"Sounds like fun," she said earnestly.

"Oh, good," Harry breathed in relief. "Professor Snape thought I was pathetic for having such a difficult time finding a date. He was kind of angry even, although I shouldn't have asked to borrow his girlfriend."

"You what!" she blurted in shock.

"That probably was a mistake," Harry confirmed thoughtfully.

Suze doubled over laughing, then made herself stop with effort and dabbed her eyes, still chuckling occasionally. "I'll see you the night of the ball, then."

"I'll meet in you in the entrance hall at the bottom of the staircase," Harry said.

"'Til then," she said with an unfading smile.

* * *

Hermione actually held off on saying anything until four days before the ball. She wouldn't have needed to say anything if she'd been able to correctly interpret the odd looks the Slytherins were always giving Harry as he and his friends went about their classes.

Examinations were starting in two days and he was panicking over his new understanding of the higher standard he'd been put under in most of his subjects. He was buried in a textbook when she came over and leaned on the arms of the chair and put her nose close to his.

"I have a date," Harry said to her, cutting off her question.

"Who?" she asked, sounding like she might not believe him. Harry noticed others nearby stopping to listen to the answer.

"You'll see," Harry replied. "No one you know."

"Someone outside the school?"

"No. We have a lot in common. She thinks posing for the press will be fun, so I think I'll actually survive the evening."

Hermione breathed out loudly. "Well, that's good. Glad to hear it. I'm curious as Crookshanks, but I deserve the torture of not knowing, I think." She went back to studying with Ron and Neville.

* * *

Hermione wasn't the only one checking up on Harry. McGonagall called him up to her office the night before examinations started. When he opened the door, she immediately put down her quill and closed the large book she'd been writing in. "Mr. Potter, come in," she invited.

Harry closed the door and stood before the desk. The room didn't look that different since she'd taken over from Dumbledore. There were still a few of those mysterious balanced contraptions around, but the biggest difference was the shelves were cleared and held just a few rows of books and some glass sculptures.

"Did you find a partner for the ball?" she asked blatantly.

"Yes," Harry replied flatly.

"Good," she smiled. "Now you are going to be opening the ball--"

"Just me and my date?" Harry blurted.

She gave him a disapproving look. "You and the Head Boy and Girl. So three couples. We are opening with a waltz," she started, looking like maybe she was already at the ball in her mind. At Harry's alarmed expression, she returned to the present and said. "You don't know how to dance, do you, Harry?"

"No, ma'am," Harry admitted, expecting her to change her mind about the whole plan.

She stood up. "You need to learn then," she said resolutely.

Harry dropped his head and said with a hint of a whine, "And I thought I was past all the things I was going to have to get over at this school."

When he looked up, she looked displeased. "This is one of the normal teenage things, Mr. Potter, getting over the awkwardness of asking a pretty girl to dance and then managing a reasonable facsimile of actually dancing with her. Lifelong torment by a powerful dark wizard bent on killing you is not a normal teenage thing to have to get over. You should be basking in this opportunity to be a normal young man for once."

She pulled out her wand and tapped the sculpture of a swan behind her. It began spinning and playing a song like a music box, although it sounded much better. When she stepped around the desk and stood before him, Harry gave in, mostly because he was afraid he'd offended her with his comment, which he really hadn't meant to do.

She took his hands, placed them, and then counted to the music. On the third round of counting, she stepped backward, pulling him with her. After four bars he finally had a vague hang of it. After ten he thought it was actually pretty easy. They began turning as the music continued. "Around the dance floor counter clockwise. Got it?"

Harry nodded, forcing himself to not look at his feet.

"You’re a natural, Harry," she said. Then she laughed lightly at his expression of disbelief. She finally released him and stepped back to the swan. "One more. My favorite is swing."

* * *

End of term examinations left Harry a wreck, but he was hopeful that he'd done okay. Everyone else, even Hermione, seemed strung out by them, so at least he was in good company.

The evening of the ball was the evening before everyone left for holiday. After his last examination, he pulled out his dress robes and took them to Hermione for a quick flattening charm, which she did before handing them back.

"I'd tell you to do it yourself, but you look so pathetic," she said. "I hope your date realizes how determined you are to not have a good time," she said evenly.

"I told her I hated the whole notion of it, so 'yes'," Harry replied in a put-off tone.

"My goodness," Hermione said. "You aren't taking a Slytherin are you?" she teased him.

Harry gave her a very sly grin.

"Ah," she breathed in audibly. "Harry!" She hit him on the arm. "No wonder no one knows who it is. I can't believe you."

"Hey, it wasn't easy. I had to argue that I was an honorary Slytherin because of Severus to even get a chance to ask."

"I can imagine. They are pretty insular when it comes to dating. And everything else." She held the robes up against him. "Put those on and come back down," she commanded him. Others were congregating in the common room as well, getting hair styled and exchanging jewelry and scarves.

Harry slipped back up to the dormitory and did so. When he came back down, she looked him over appraisingly, tugging on the shoulders and the cuffs. "Okay. Just fits. You look good. Although . . . you might try to do something with your hair," she said critically.

"I was," Harry retorted, a little offended. He went back up to the dormitory for his kit. He espied his watch on the side table and slipped it into his pocket. In the toilet it was crowded with boys all trying to improve their appearance. Harry wetted his hair down and combed it repeatedly until it dried. It looked a little better as a result. He combed it carefully one more time when he got a chance at the mirror.

"Why are you always hiding your scar under your fringe?" Dean asked him from the next sink over.

Harry stared at his friend in the mirror. "'Cause I don't like to see it, so I don't expect anyone else to," Harry replied. He combed his hair apart, revealing it completely. "It's the first thing everyone looks at when they meet me, like there's no more to me than that." He squinted and leaned into the mirror, rubbing the jagged scar with his finger. Mystified, he whispered, "I think it's fading."

Half the boys in the room stopped what they were doing and turned to him.

"Do you think so?" Harry asked Dean, leaning toward his friend.

"Maybe," Dean answered. "It looks flatter, maybe. Not so carved into your skin like it used to. Though I have to admit, I don't pay that much attention to it."

As Harry turned back to the mirror to comb his fringe forward again, Dean said, "Who are you going with tonight?"

"You'll see," Harry breathed airily, glad to have something else to think about.

Right on time, Harry reached the top of the staircase. As he'd walked to the entrance hall, he'd seen many transformed female classmates. He'd started to really wonder, and worry a bit, what Suze was going to look like. She stood by the curl in the railing at the bottom of the steps, looking pretty much herself except for the stylish slate grey robes she wore that made her skin look much warmer than normal. She had a sparkling tie loose in her long white hair.

As Harry considered the crowd from his high perch, he noticed Professor Snape eyeing Suze and starting through the crowd toward her. Harry hesitated, curious. Snape asked her something and she gestured as she replied. Harry headed down to them, thinking Snape might be challenging her being there.

"Severus," Harry said in greeting. "Suze." He offered her his arm. As he did so he received such a priceless look of surprise from Snape, he almost broke out laughing. "I'll see you inside, sir," Harry said evenly with a broad grin.

The Great Hall was laid out with round tables each with a floating horizontal wreath full of candles. Harry led Suze to the center of the floor where they stopped to admire the decorations. Monstrous pine trees sparkled from each corner, fairies flickering among their branches carrying little colored lanterns.

McGonagall stepped up to them. "Mr. Potter," she said. Her eyes flicked down to Suze. "Ms. Zepher," she said without missing a beat. Harry was a little disappointed in her reaction. "You are at the head table there," she pointed at the large oval table at the front of the hall where the platform normally sat but had been removed.

As the headmistress stepped away, Suze said, "Cool."

Harry turned to her and gauged that she was taller than his shoulder, which was higher than he remembered. "Did you use a height charm or potion or something?" Harry asked.

She pulled at the knee of her robe and stuck out her left foot to reveal matching glittery shoes with thick, thick soles, at least five inches thick. They must be heavy. "You are walking really well in those," Harry commented. "But you didn't have to wear them." When she looked up at him curiously, he went on, "It will make it easier to dance, but you shouldn't worry about being yourself."

She blinked at that, apparently trying to take it in. Harry shrugged and led the way to the head table where Hermione and Ron were already standing, watching them in surprise. Ron gaped at them, but Hermione held out her hand to Suze and introduced herself. Hermione was dressed in blazing red with long red gloves that stretched above her elbows.

"That's a shy outfit," Harry commented.

Ron gave him a look of dismay and quickly looked away to avoid having it be seen by their mutual friend. "I've decided red is my favorite color," Hermione said happily.

Justin and Lavender stepped over. "Is she with you?" Justin asked of Suze. At Harry's nod, he asked, "Aren't you the Slytherin Seeker?"

"Yes," Suze replied in a voice that said, if you are making something of it, be prepared.

"Oh," Justin said, glancing oddly at Harry who smiled sweetly in return.

They moved behind their table as the hall began to fill. The headmistress and the four Heads of House also joined the head table. Harry took a seat near the middle, was actually herded there by the headmistress. As he held the chair out for Suze, he received another sharp look from Snape. Ignoring it, Harry sat down and watched the massed students arranging their seating. When everyone was seated, Professor McGonagall leaned over to the students at the table and said, "Everyone ready?" At the resulting general nodding and shrugging, she stood up and clinked her goblet for attention.

"Welcome. I hope everyone enjoys this evening as much as I intend to. After the feast there will be a quintet providing music for dancing. I do hope you all have a wonderful holiday and return to us whole and safe in the new year. But for now, let's eat."

Harry picked up the menu on his plate and said, "Duck." A plate of duck, potatoes and little carrots materialized before him. Suze shifted in her seat and peered at the menu before ordering lamb. When it arrived, he gave her a smile, which he was glad to see made her relax.

During the long dinner, Harry lost his date to Ron when his friend asked Suze whom she rooted for and she replied Filmore. What ensued was a frighteningly detailed discussion of defense tactics. Harry shared an amusingly dismayed look with Hermione over their dates' bent heads and gesturing fingers.

Harry turned instead to the headmistress who looked as though she was enjoying her job of presiding. "Ma'am," Harry said.

"Mr. Potter," she returned. "Having a good time?"

"Mostly it's been dinner," Harry pointed out as a Prophet photographer moved in and took a few photographs. Harry ignored him.

"Ah, just wait," she said. "I love balls. The music. The movement of the couples on the floor."

"I got that sense, ma'am," Harry said in a slightly suffering tone.

She looked out over the murmuring crowd and sighed. "I think I'm going to miss you when you are gone, Harry."

Harry wondered at that comment, since he was trying to be a bit difficult. "I'm not going far."

Her lips twitched. "I suppose not."

Harry turned back to Suze. She said, "I'm sorry, I should be talking to you, not your friend."

"That's okay. Catching the headmistress after . . ." Harry leaned forward to peek into McGonagall's goblet. " . . . a bit of mead is always an interesting experience."

Suze giggled, but not in an annoying way. Their plates vanished and the lights dimmed except for the fairy lights that hung in a square around the area designated for dancing.

McGonagall stood with a sweeping motion of her arm. The students at the head table stood as well when they noticed. "Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, inviting him to lead. Snape gave them a dark look as they collected themselves. Harry held his arm out to Suze, who accepted it with high decorum. He gave Snape a look back that he hoped said, you said to ask anyone. The look he received in answer he could have interpreted as, don't try anything, but Harry couldn't imagine that was what it meant.

They stepped off the platform, passing the quintet of string musicians who now sat on a platform beside the dance floor. As he watched Ron positioning his arms with Hermione, he wondered where they'd learned to dance.

"I hope you can dance," Harry said. "I just learned two days ago."

"My mum sent me to ballet for five years. Thought it would make me grow taller," she replied.

The music started and Harry managed to remember the correct foot to start with. After that it flowed smoothly. "You're not bad," she commented.

Harry watched the photographer as he crouched to take a photo of Justin and Lavender. "I hate to admit it, but the headmistress had to teach me," Harry confessed.

Suze grinned. The photographer came over to them. Harry danced unturning until he finished. Suze smiled nicely for each shot. In comparison, Harry wondered if he'd look glum.

At the end of the first piece, McGonagall swept past. "Careful, my boy, you look like you might be having fun."

"So what are you doing after Hogwarts?" Suze asked when the headmistress was out of range.

"I'm going to try to get into the Auror's program," Harry said. "If that doesn't work, I'm not sure." The next song started up and more couples came onto the floor. "How about you?"

"Me?" she asked in surprise. "I'd love to play Quidditch. My mum is an actuary, and my dad is a spell developer. They aren't so keen on sports as a profession."

"Your dad's a what?" Harry asked. "I've never heard of that. Who does he work for?"

"A publisher of spell books called Yuring Press. The second largest. He also does research to figure out old spells that have been forgotten. He goes to estate sales of old families and looks for forgotten books or even notebooks and diaries. He found two rare books at the Black estate, for example. Kept him busy for over a year."

Harry stopped dead at that.

"What is it?" she asked in alarm.

Harry shook his head and found the pace of the song again with his feet. "Nothing. Just remembering. That's not usually a good thing for me," he quipped darkly.

As Suze glanced over her shoulder at the head table, she asked in concern, "Do you think Professor Snape is upset with me?"

"No, why would he be?"

"I'm worried about that look he gave us earlier," she said. She really did sound worried, making Harry realize that even a student with two normal parents could crave approval from another adult.

"That look was for me. Trust me," he said reassuringly.

After that song, they sat back at the head table. The teachers were there, talking amongst themselves. Rita Skeeter stepped over and crouched between Harry's and Suze's chairs. "Hello, Harry," she said in a falsely friendly tone.

"Ms. Skeeter."

"And who is your lovely date?"

"This is Suze Zepher," Harry said. Suze held out her hand to Skeeter, who shook it while appraising the girl. "Suze is Seeker on the Slytherin team. She is going to be a professional Quidditch player," Harry provided. Skeeter grudgingly jotted that down. "Maybe ask her who she is hoping to play for," Harry said levelly. Suze's eyes went wide.

"What do I get in return?" Skeeter asked quietly, glancing at the teachers who were keeping a casual-appearing eye on the proceedings. She watched Harry think that over. "Do you have anything right now I might want?" she asked a little snidely.

"Lots. Nothing I want to give up. Give me a topic."

"The last set of D.E. that were caught. That seemed fishy. The releases and interviews from the Ministry didn't jib."

"I'll anonymously confirm that was fishy," Harry returned quietly.

"Off the record?" she prompted.

"I don't want you to print the truth," Harry stated calmly.

"So much for inheriting Dumbledore's mantle," she said sarcastically.

"I wouldn't want it anyway," Harry came back.

"So of the five, three were killed. Tell me how."

Harry turned a bit so he was facing her better in case the teachers could read lips. "Rockwood fell down the stairs after a binding curse and broke his neck. Mulciber got in the way of Malfoy's Killing Curse. Pettigrew killed himself when the Aurors showed up. He'd hoped it would be me." Harry knew that only the last was official.

"Okay," Skeeter said. "Ms. Zepher, who would you like to play for?" she asked, back to her friendly tone.

Suze's jaw fell open and she pulled it closed again when Harry winked at her. "Filmore. They are my favorite team. I like their defensive strategies."

Skeeter jotted that down. "I do something for you, Potter. . . you end up owing me more."

"I realize that," Harry said blandly. "A delay would be nice."

"I'm good at what I do," Skeeter snapped at him as she closed her notebook and put her quill away.

When she was gone, Suze started to speak. Harry stood and invited her back out on the dance floor where they could talk out of range of prying ears. "Thanks for that," she said. "How did you know all that?"

"Because the D.E. were all after me when they were caught. The binding curse was mine and I ducked under Mulciber to avoid Lucius Malfoy's Avada Kedavra."

She gaped. "You say that so calmly. Guess you could be an Auror."

"I don't know what else I'd do."

They danced another song. Harry noticed Hermione looked like she was thinking of switching partners. Next one, he mouthed at her. She nodded.

"So you haven't asked the obvious question," Suze said a little put-upon.

"What would that be?"

She gave him a dark look. "Isn't it obvious?" she asked in annoyance. "Why I look this way?"

"It's just the way you are," Harry said. From anyone else that might have sounded stupid. She blinked at him as though assessing that. "Is it a wizard thing?" Harry asked.

"Of course."

"You have to understand--I was raised a Muggle," he explained.

"Really?" she asked. At his nod, she said, "Then maybe you don't know what Triptendora is." He shook his head. She went on, "It is also called Wizard Measles. It is easy to treat but if you get it as an infant and it isn't treated in time . . . you end up with no color and very short."

After a moment, Harry said, "So your parents weren't very smart, I guess."

"That's just it--they're very smart. I don't know what their problem was," she said sharply.

"They mean well most of the time?"

"They mean well all of the time. Makes me nutters. They are perfectionists like you wouldn't believe."

They passed the head table in silence. After passing the quintet, Harry said. "You probably remind them of their failure. Through no fault of your own," he added quickly. "That would make them hard to live with I can imagine."

"I hadn't thought of that." She blinked at him in surprise. After a pause, she asked, "What do I do about it?"

He shrugged. "Live with it. Tolerate their craziness." At her doubtful look, he said, "I was raised by my magic-hating aunt and uncle who lied about how my parents died, kept me locked in a broom cupboard until I was eleven, and barely fed me enough to stay alive. That's why I'm small for my age."

"You're serious, aren't you?" she asked warily.

With long-suffering humor, he said, "Why is it when I tell people about myself, they assume I'm making it up?"

She giggled then apologized for it.

Harry said, "Well-meaning would go a long way in my view of parenting."

The evening ended with one last waltz. Ginny had cut in on his dancing with Padma the song before. Harry insisted they both switch back to their original partners for it. Suze still seemed as chipper as when the evening had started. Harry wondered at that--he was exhausted. "Hope you had an okay time," he said, stifling a yawn.

"I did. I hope they have a few more of these while I'm in school."

"Tell McGonagall. She loves them too."

"Cool."

As the song ended, Harry bent down and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thanks for coming with me."

She ducked her head and giggled. "Thanks for the invitation," she returned stridently.

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