Harry Potter and the Trouble With Neurotypicals: Book Four.
Or, "Autistic Potter and the Goblet of Fire."
Notes: I do not own this. J. K. Rowling does. This is just fan fiction. No money is being made. Not by me, anyway.
Just to clarify: Yule Ball is actually on Yule because honestly, having it on Christmas always struck me as stupid because then the students didn't get to go home for Christmas. Fine for people like Harry who in canon didn't have anywhere to go that he wanted to be, but everyone else got the shaft.
There may be a few bits and pieces lifted word-for-word from the canon material. I tried to do that as little as possible, though, but there's a lot more in this one than usual because it was unavoidable. Still, lots of details are changed, so don't skip by familiar parts or you might miss something.
Just as a reminder, so I don't have to shoehorn in descriptions in the text of the story as a reminder, but in this fanfic Harry and Hermione, apart from having Asperger's Syndrome, are both black as well.
'Italicized text between single quotes is almost always Parseltongue.'
Chapter 14: “The Yule Ball”
Since he knew she would be showing up to the Yule Ball, Harry hadn't bothered sending Ms. Pennyroyal a letter, instead deciding to find her and ask her during the ball to look into the Second Task's safety measures.
With that decided, he could go back to focusing on preparing for the Yule Ball. School was out, of course, but everyone was staying behind for the ball. The Hogwarts Express would take everyone home the day after the ball, after lunch. This just confirmed Harry's suspicions that the Express didn't travel across the country in a linear way, and so didn't have to leave at 11 AM on September 1st, nor take all day to get to Hogwarts.
Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville changed into their dress robes up in their dormitory, all of them looking very self-conscious. Ron might have been more self-conscious if he hadn't been so nervous about going to the dance with a girl he barely knew, who was also a Slytherin. When he thought about it, he realized he didn't even know for sure what Tracey Davis looked like. Harry only managed to calm him down by pointing out she was never far from Daphne Greengrass. When this was pointed out to him, Ron realized he did in fact remember what Tracey looked like.
“She's the blonde one, right? And Greengrass is the brunette who looks kinda stuck up all the time?”
“Yes to both questions,” Harry said idly, adjusting his collar. “And that 'stuck up' look is just, as I understand it, the facial expression of people who know occlumency but aren't like, great at it. Just passable. It's a blank look.”
“She looks unhappy when she does it.”
“Yeah, well so does everyone else who does it, unless they're really good. Even Snape does it most of the time.”
“Sure, but in his case he's just a grumpy git.”
The common room looked strange, full of people wearing different colors instead of the usual mass of black. The girls, especially, were colorful and a lot of them had dresses that revealed far more of themselves than they usually displayed. This was not true for the boys, though, which was something Harry thought was silly. Why was it more classy for girls to have dress robes that revealed more skin, but the same wasn't true for boys? People were just so silly, Harry thought.
“Did Draco tell you where you were meeting Tracey?”
“Yeah, yesterday on my way to the Room of Requirement,” he said quietly. “Said she was meeting me in the entrance hall. Is that where Luna's meeting you?”
“Yes. I asked her about it last night on the mirror.”
“Good. How do I look?”
“Fetching. Handsome. Royal,” Harry said. “What about me?”
“Like a reverse tree, but handsome. What'd you do to your hair, though?”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Rather than having it stick out in every direction, I used a hair charm to make it into these twists, then used a hair potion to get them to stick to my head like this. Got both from Dean.”
“Well it's a good look for you. Just gonna take some getting used to.”
Harry beamed at this. Ron was right, it was a good look for him, but he hadn't known for sure it was until Ron had said so. He'd have to see if others thought so, too.
He looked again at his outfit. Bottle-green dress robes of either satin or silk, he wasn't sure but probably satin. Silver pentacle cuff-links on the sleeves. It looked nice, but the neckline was too high, and it was making him feel like he was choking. It was bad enough that he left the boys' area and went looking around to see if any if the girls were available to take a message to Lavender Brown or Parvati Patil. He knew if anyone could help him, it would be one of them. Or, well, there was always Professor McGonagall, but he had no idea where she was. And Hermione of course, but he didn't want to bother her.
Finally he found someone willing to go upstairs to check for one of those two girls for him, and after ten minutes of waiting, Parvati came down looking curious. She was also dressed for the ball, looked very pretty in robes of shocking pink, with her long dark plait braided with gold, and gold bracelets glimmering at her wrists.
“What do you want, Harry? I'm not quite done with my makeup.”
“This neckline is too high, it feels like it's choking me. I figured if anyone here could help, it'd be you or Lavender.”
“Ah. Not quite our area of expertise, really, as we're more about makeup charms than transfiguration, but should be doable.”
She pulled her wand out of the front of her dress. Harry looked away suddenly, his ears burning, but Parvati didn't seem to care that she'd just casually reached down the front of her dress while a boy had been looking at her. She pointed her wand at his collar and concentrated. A moment later, the neckline dropped an inch. He shook his head to indicate it wasn't low enough yet, and she shifted it down another inch. But he wasn't satisfied even then, nor when it was three inches down from its original position.
“One more inch, Parvati.”
“Harry, are you sure? That already looks a little... feminine, at that position.”
“How does that--- never mind. I don't really care about stuff like that, I care about not feeling like there's a noose around my neck.”
She shrugged and lowered it again with her wand. When she did, he sighed with relief.
“Now if you could put a gap between the edges, that'd be even better.”
Sighing, she used her wand to put a half-inch gap between one edge of the fabric and the other. He sighed with relief again.
“Thank you so much, Parvati, that feels loads better.”
“You're welcome, Harry,” she said. “Anyway, you'd better let me seal that with a spell to make it last the night, or else you're going to be partway through a dance when it returns to normal.”
“Right,” he said, holding still. She cast the spell on it to seal the transfiguration for 24 hours just to be on the safe side.
“Anything else I can help you with?”
“No, that's all. Thanks again, Parvati.”
“Any time, Harry,” she said as he nodded at her and turned to go upstairs again to look at himself in the mirror.
Parvati was kind of right, the neckline did now look a bit on the feminine side, but he hadn't been lying when he said he didn't care about that kind of thing. It felt nice. In fact, the whole outfit felt nice, now he was no longer being choked by it. The slick coolness of the enchanted fabric against his skin was very nice, so much better than the usual Hogwarts robes. In fact, it felt a bit like changing out of a suit of armor and into pajamas. He hadn't realized quite how much the normal uniform had been bothering him all these years until today.
Ron showed up behind him as he was finishing looking at himself in the mirror, the two of them nearly running into each other.
“What happened to your robes, Harry?”
“They were choking me, so I had Parvati help me alter them to stop doing that.”
“Er, it kinda looks a bit--”
“Yes yes, I know. It looks slightly girly. I don't care. And no, it doesn't mean I'm really a girl like Antigone, it means I care more about comfort than appearances.”
Ron held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Sorry, mate. Didn't mean anything by it.”
Harry sighed. “Sorry for snapping at you, Ron.”
“Apology not needed, mate. Now, where's Hermione?”
“No idea, but she might be downstairs. I didn't see her earlier, though.”
"Probably off reading or sulking somewhere," Ron said. "You know, cuz she's too proud to admit she lied to me to make her point."
Harry chose to ignore this, he and Ron going down to the common room.
“Well we'd better get to the entrance hall to find our dates,” Harry said.
“Right.”
Colin Creevy ran into them just then.
“Oooh, looking good, Harry, Ron! I'm taking photos for the Yule Ball, gonna give copies to those who want them. But I'm asking permission first, Harry, you taught me that's polite. Can I take a photo of you two before you leave the common room?”
“You have my permission, Colin,” Harry said.
“Yeah, mine too.”
“Great.”
Colin lifted his camera up, stood back, and said, “Say cheese!”
Harry grinned. Ron looked nervous. The camera flashed.
Having known in advance what this ball was going to probably do to him, Harry had gone to Madam Pomfrey ahead of time and gotten a special potion from her that dulled the senses, as well as an anti-nausea potion. They should last the whole night, she'd said. He'd taken it before putting his robes on, and it was a weird sensation, being on these potions. Everything was quieter than he was used to, but sharper in some respects, like sometimes happened when he was tired and closed his eyes in a room where people were talking.
His vision was also quieter. Normally, with his glasses on he could see ridiculous levels of detail on things; when flying, he had frequently noticed he could see the grass petals moving at distances that should have been impossible to see more than just green. Whenever he was outside, he had over the past few months taken up the habit of seeing how far away a tree had to be before he couldn't see its leaves anymore. He wasn't great at judging distances, but he thought it was a lot farther than most people could see. And of course, on several occasions he'd read text from across the room that other people could barely recognize as even being text, from the same distance. So it was like his senses were normally turned up to 12 or 13, and the potion brought them down to like, a seven or an eight.
The difference was obvious to him. Instead of being able to count individual tree leaves of trees off near the horizon, he could now barely see the trees, so to speak. His near-range vision was dulled, too; from his current position, he normally could have seen tiny cracks in the stones of the floor that most people could only see by getting their faces as close to the stone as they could. Now, he could tell the floor was stone by the texture, but he couldn't see the cracks.
He couldn't help but notice that the difference in how it affected him was astonishing. There were presently so many people in the common room milling about and talking, even shouting, that on a normal day he would have been getting sick even before Colin's camera went off. But now with the sense-dulling potion, he felt like the noise level could triple, and the density of people in the room could double, and he'd still be okay.
But as tempting as it might be to ask for this potion all the time, he knew he wouldn't be able to. Over the years he'd found his absurdly powerful senses to be very useful. He was always the first to notice leaks in the roof, no matter how small, even when Aunt Petunia was in the room. He used to use his vision to expertly assess how much food he could steal from the fridge before his aunt and uncle would notice some had gone missing. And he still often surprised Hedwig when she tried to sneak up on him, for as quiet as she was, he could still hear the faint sound of her wings through the air if there wasn't some other noise covering up the sound. So no, despite the fact he was still going strong in the midst of all this chaos, he wouldn't be making a habit of using the sense-dulling potion.
Colin got some more photos of him and Ron, then moved on. Harry and Ron took off out the portrait hole and toward the entrance hall. On the way there, Harry answered Ron's inquiry about how he was able to stand all the noise.
The entrance hall was packed with students too, all milling around waiting for eight o’clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another. Draco came up to Harry and Ron and guided Ron over to Tracey Davis, where Ron took her arm in a gentlemanly fashion. Harry could tell by his face that Ron was trying to be open minded and not ruin this day for Tracey, even if she was a Slytherin.
Draco was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a high collar, which in Harry’s opinion made him look like a vicar. Daphne was wearing metallic silver dress robes, though honestly Harry couldn't tell the difference between girls' dress robes and Muggle formal dresses. Daphne's silver dress robes were backless, and the front seemed to be stuck in place with a sticking charm. They also had a slit up both sides of the dress, showing off her legs now and then. Legs that ended with shoes that looked to be made of real silver. Daphne had Draco by one arm and a very small metallic-silver clutch purse in the other arm.
Daphne's hair was tied up in an elegant knot at the back of her head, the knot festooned with glittering emeralds in silver settings, another glittering emerald at her neck. Each piece was probably expensive enough to pay for new school things for the Weasleys for the rest of their time in Hogwarts.
Tracey's dress robes matched Ron's purple pretty well, seeing as they were a metallic gold color, but much more modest than Daphne's, exposing only Tracey's shoulders, arms, and her golden, heeled shoes. Both girls wore opera gloves in colors matching their dresses, and these gloves went all the way to just past their elbows. Tracey's clutch was metallic gold, like her dress.
Like Daphne, Tracey's hair was up, though hers was a braided bun. Also in her hair were dazzling red-and-orange fire opals, with another such fire opal at her neck.
Harry waited for Luna, not knowing where she was going to be. He asked several students he knew to be Ravenclaws, and most of them made faces of dislike and told him they didn't know where “Loony” was. He tore into each one who did that with a vicious verbal throw-down, and most of them apologized before fleeing. Harry made notes of names of people who called Luna names to his face, to talk with their head of house about it later.
Ron and Tracey remained nearby, along with Draco and Daphne. They chatted idly while Harry waited for Luna.
“Oh no …”
Ron bent his knees slightly to hide behind Harry, because Fleur Delacour was passing, looking stunning in robes of silver-gray satin, and accompanied by the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Roger Davies. When they had disappeared, Ron stood straight again and stared over the heads of the crowd.
“Where is Hermione?” he said again. Tracey rolled her eyes at this.
A group of Slytherins came up the steps from their dungeon common room. Pansy Parkinson was at the arm of some Slytherin boy Harry didn't recognize, and she looked very put out by it, glaring daggers in Draco's direction now and then. Behind that pair was Crabbe and Goyle, who were both wearing green; they resembled moss-colored boulders, and neither of them, Harry noted, had managed to find a partner. Unless... but no, that didn't seem very likely.
Finally, Harry spotted Luna coming down the stairs. It was rather difficult not to, though she wasn't quite as obvious as he'd anticipated. Luna's dress – a spaghetti-strap dress with straps made of what looked like the kind of ribbon you put on Christmas gifts – was striped red and green like wrapping paper, with a red satin belt in a fancy bow at her abdomen like the bow on a present. She had a smaller, matching red satin bow on her right wrist as well, held in place by a silver pentagram. Her earrings were miniature glass Christmas balls, one red and one green, lit from within so they were glowing.
Luna's shoes were black, buckled boots looking a lot like Santa boots, but they only went just past the ankle before ending in white fur trim. What little he could see of her legs – the dress went just past her knees – looked candy-striped like candy canes. Her purse looked like a Christmas gift box, wrapped with wrapping depicting half a dozen Yule logs drawn and colored by hand, an animation on the images making them look like they were cheerfully burning in a hearth. The purse straps were the same red string as the string around the “box” of the purse.
On her dress, Luna's corsage was a kind of flower Harry had never seen before. It was pale as moonlight, glowing faintly, and had five petals, making it look kind of like a pentagram without the circle, and stood out against the background of her dress.
Her hair was another matter. It was no longer blond, and no longer looked like she'd gotten out of bed without combing it. It was done elegantly in a crown of braids on top of her head, and had been colored red and white so that her hair looked like a braided candy cane. Some charm or potion on it even made it look like it was made out of candy. There was also the star from a Christmas tree poking out of her hair, and it was lit up like Christmas lights. As she approached Harry, he could even smell she was wearing peppermint perfume in her hair.
Even Draco, Tracey, Ron, and Daphne were staring at her as she approached, in awe of the effort she'd put into the outfit. Harry was staring, too; he'd never seen her look so beautiful before.
“Hello Harry. You look nice this evening. I like what you've done with your hair, it suits you.”
Harry swallowed, trying to speak. Finally managing it, he said weakly, “er... you too, Luna. Your hair looks good enough to eat.”
She smiled. “Yes it does, I know. But please don't, it might make you ill, and it wouldn't taste very good.”
He chuckled. “I'll try to restrain myself.”
The oak front doors opened then, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff. Krum was at the front of the party, accompanied by a pretty girl in blue robes Harry didn’t know. Over their heads he saw that an area of lawn right in front of the castle had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights — meaning hundreds of actual living fairies (or "nixies," as Luna and her father called them) were sitting in the rosebushes that had been conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of what seemed to be Father Christmas and his reindeer.
Then Professor McGonagall’s voice called, “Champions over here, please!”
“That's our cue, Harry,” Luna softly told him, gently pulling him by the hand, for he was still a bit stunned at Luna's appearance and had barely noticed Krum and his date.
Luna and Harry said “See you in a minute” to the others as they got in place with the other Champions and their dates, the chattering crowd parting to let them through.
Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat, told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; they were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Cedric had gotten Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker, for his date. He waved at Cedric, who waved back. Then Harry's eyes moved and fell on the girl at Krum's side. His jaw dropped.
It was Hermione.
But she didn’t look like Hermione at all. Her hair was no longer bushy; she'd changed it from her usual bushy Afro to a great many thin dreadlocks that she had then pulled back like a ponytail, but into a bun of sorts, so that the dreads were making a whirlpool sort of shape at the back of the bun. A few stray dreads hung like long bangs, framing her face without hiding it at all. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material that looked good against her dark brown skin, and she was holding herself differently, somehow — or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back. She was also smiling — rather nervously, it was true — but the reduction in the size of her front teeth was more noticeable than ever; Harry couldn’t understand how he hadn’t spotted it before.
“Hi, Harry!” she said. “Hi, Luna!”
Luna looked over to Hermione curiously, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Hermione. Harry heard her say “Oh my!” in an impressed tone.
Nearby, Parvati Patil was gazing at Hermione in unflattering disbelief. She wasn’t the only one either; when the doors to the Great Hall opened, Krum’s fan club from the library stalked past, throwing Hermione looks of deepest loathing. Pansy Parkinson gaped at her as she walked by, too. Daphne was looking impressed though, as was Tracey.
Draco, however... his eyes burned with anger at the sight of her with Krum, and then he turned away and pretended he hadn't seen her. And Ron walked right past her without looking at her, in a very pointed fashion. Harry sighed, hoping Ron wouldn't make an arse of himself tonight. Nor Draco, either, but Draco had better manners than Ron and so Harry wasn't too worried about him.
As they went into the Great Hall, Harry spotted Antigone and Angela. Their dresses were pretty, but much more subdued than the others Harry had seen so far. Antigone wore a dress of a darkish pink satin, and Angela's dress, also satin, was robin's-egg blue. For jewelry they wore simple silver chains about their necks, silver bangles at their wrists, and silver crescent-moon earrings. All their jewelry matched one another's jewelry.
Then Danzia came along behind them. She was a sight to see, as she was wearing men's dress robes in black and white, which looked like a tuxedo from the waist up. In fact... it looked like she had a tuxedo top on over-top a black robe. But despite the masculine look of her robes, her strawberry-blond hair was done in a feminine, elegant knot at the back of her head, and she was wearing diamond earrings and diamond cuff-links, her fingernails painted with metallic silver nail polish. She was also wearing lipstick and eye shadow, and though it was well done, they'd never seen her with makeup on before, so the effect was quite striking. Especially since she had on her characteristic mischievous grin.
Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.
The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.
Harry concentrated on not tripping over his feet. Luna was enjoying herself, beaming at everyone, ignoring the stares and mutters of the people who didn't like her. He caught sight of Ron and Tracey as he and Luna neared the top table. Ron was watching Hermione pass with narrowed eyes. Tracey was glaring daggers at Ron.
Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably like Ron’s as he watched Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. Ms. Selby, the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, was sitting at the fifth seat. Since she was the farthest from Karkaroff, he and Luna sat next to her.
When they sat down, Luna turned to wave at someone. Harry turned to look where she was looking, and saw Mr. Lovegood, Luna's father, waving back at them both. Harry waved as well, smiling. Mr. Lovegood must have been there in his official capacity as a member of the press.
“Sir?” Harry said to Dumbledore.
“Yes, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.
“Can we invite Mr. Lovegood over here? He's the only person I trust to cover this tournament and peripherals fairly.”
Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “Of course, Harry, that's no problem. There should be enough room.”
With Dumbledore's help, Mr. Lovegood sat with them. Shortly thereafter, Ms. Pennyroyal joined too, taking the final seat. Now it was her, Mr. Lovegood, the judges, and the Champions and their dates. That made 14 people at the table.
“How are you doing, young man?” asked Xeno, holding his hand out to Harry.
Suppressing his confusing feelings about being called a young man, Harry took the man's hand and shook it, smiling.
“Quite well. Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion to dull my senses, it's making this whole night bearable. More than bearable; quite pleasant, in fact.”
“Well good to hear it, good to hear it. And you must be Ms. Pennyroyal?”
Harry ignored the introductions and looked around the room. It was all very pretty, the school going all out on the holiday decorations. Then he turned to Luna, and the two of them chatted idly while everyone else in the room found tables to sit at and settle down.
There was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of them. Harry picked his up uncertainly and looked around — there were no waiters. Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down at his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, “Pork chops!”
And pork chops appeared. Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates too. Luna ordered a garden salad with raspberry vinaigrette dressing to start, her father doing the same. Salad sounded like a good idea to Harry, so he too ordered a salad, but with ranch dressing.
As they ate, he noticed Hermione talking with Krum, and suddenly realized he hadn't heard much of Krum talking, but he was certainly talking now, and very enthusiastically at that.
“Vell, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking,” he was telling Hermione. “Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these — though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains —”
“Now, now, Viktor!” said Karkaroff with a laugh that didn’t reach his cold eyes, “don’t go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!”
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Igor, all this secrecy … one would almost think you didn’t want visitors.”
“Well, Dumbledore,” said Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, “we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school’s secrets, and right to protect them?”
“Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts’ secrets, Igor,” said Dumbledore amicably. “Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon — or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder.”
Harry snorted into his salad. He and Luna and Hermione knew full well what room Dumbledore was talking about, but Harry didn't dare talk to him about it here. He liked the Room of Requirement being a secret known to few.
He ignored Fleur Delacour, who was being dismissive of the castle's decorations. She was probably right that the palace of Beauxbatons was more opulent than Hogwarts, but he school preferred the sturdy stone walls, even if they could be improved with better warming charms or more insulating materials.
They moved on to their main course, and as they did so, Harry noticed that neither of the Lovegoods ordered anything with meat. He wondered if they were vegetarians. He tried to remember if he'd ever seen them eating animal products before, but he couldn't. He didn't pay attention to other people's food choices most of the time, and all he could remember of what Luna liked to eat was puddings, but that was rather vague and didn't tell him anything useful. He'd have to ask Luna about it later.
Harry looked around the Hall. Hagrid was sitting at one of the other staff tables; he was back in his horrible hairy brown suit and gazing up at the top table. Harry saw him give a small wave, and looking around, saw Madame Maxime return it, her opals glittering in the candlelight.
Hermione was now teaching Krum to say her name properly; he kept calling her “Hermy-own.”
“Her-my-oh-nee,” she said slowly and clearly.
“Herm-own-ninny.”
“Close enough,” she said, catching Harry’s eye and grinning.
When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.
The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Harry, who had been so interested in watching them that he had almost forgotten what was coming, suddenly realized that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the other champions and their partners were getting into place.
“Come on, Harry,” Luna said serenely. “They expect us to dance. Which is something I happen to want to do, too.”
“Of course, thanks for the heads-up,” he said quietly to her, following her onto the dance floor.
The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune; Harry walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, carefully avoiding catching anyone’s eye moreso than usual (he could see Seamus and Dean waving at him and sniggering), and next moment, Luna had taken his hands gently in hers, placed one around her waist, and was holding the other in hers.
As the music started and the dancing began, Harry kept his gaze focused on Luna's lips, so that if she spoke he would know it. It always helped him to look at people's lips when they spoke, it helped him focus on what they were saying. ('Why the eyes?' He'd thought; he'd always wondered about everyone's obsession with looking people in the eyes. 'The lips are the parts that move, and draw my attention.')
Luna wouldn't mind he never looked her in the eye, like so many other people seemed to. She knew it was an issue he had, even if she didn't share that issue. She probably had Asperger's as well, but Harry had noticed Luna had the opposite problem concerning eyes – she tended to look too long and/or too intensely at people's eyes, making them uncomfortable.
Of course, his eyes tended to roam a bit, and they did now, too. He glanced at her hair, her earrings, a silver pentagram necklace around her neck he'd only just noticed, and of course the ribbons and bows of her outfit. But they always returned to her lips, in case she wanted to talk.
He also kept finding his attention drawn away from Luna entirely, watching other people. Very soon many of them too had come onto the dance floor, so that the champions were no longer the center of attention. Neville and Ginny were dancing nearby — he could see Ginny wincing frequently as Neville trod on her feet — and Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. Mad-Eye Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.
Harry also spotted Antigone and Angela dancing with one another, and Danzia dancing with a very confused and uncomfortable looking Crabbe. Harry for a moment thought they were here together, but then he remembered that they couldn't stand one another, and Danzia had come alone. Doubtless she'd swept Crabbe off to dance with him just to bewilder him.
When the slow tune stopped, everyone applauded. Soon after, the Weird Sisters struck up a new song, which was much faster. Luna let go of Harry and began to dance with her arms waving in the air, the speed and tempo of her movements slow and ephemeral, at odds with the pace of the music. It was a dance more suited to a song with a title like 'Fairy of the woods.'
As much as he liked Luna, he didn't really feel like joining her in this odd dance, as it clashed so much with the rhythm of the music. So he stood there awkwardly and looked around instead. A ways away, he saw Fred and Angelina dancing so exuberantly that people around them were backing away in fear of injury.
Looking around for Ron, he spotted Ron sitting down along the edge of the room by a table of refreshments, his date Tracey standing beside him, her arms crossed, looking angry enough to spit nails.
“Er, Luna?”
“Yes, Harry?” she said without pausing her dance.
“Ron and Tracey seem to be having a disagreement, I thought I'd go see what that's about. Is that okay with you?”
She paused at last and looked at him.
“You don't have to ask my permission for that, Harry. But now I think on it, I guess you were just politely telling me where you were going so I wouldn't worry. I'll see you in a bit, Harry.”
“Okay, Luna. Thanks.”
She nodded, going back to her weird dancing as Harry made his way carefully through the throng of people.
It didn't take him long to find Tracey and Ron. She was hissing at him like an angry cobra, but it wasn't Parseltongue.
“I don't feel like dancing,” Ron said. “If you want to dance, I'm not going to stop you.”
“Weasley, I agreed to this 'date' hoping to have a good time with you despite the fact I barely know you. If I'd known you were just going to moon over some other girl and mope in the corner like a spoiled toddler, I would have gone with someone else!”
“Then go, if that's what you want!”
“What's going on over here?” Harry asked.
Tracey turned to him. “Potter, good. Maybe you can talk some sense into him. I ask you, what's the point of asking someone to a dance if you aren't even going to dance with them? If all he'd wanted to do was pout that the girl he really wanted to be with turned him down, he could have come stag. Right, Harry?”
“She's got a point, Ron.”
Ron just sulked even more.
“Who's he mooning over?”
“Granger,” she said. “It's not my fault he didn't ask her sooner, the child. Why should I have to suffer because of his idiocy?”
Ron stood up so suddenly Harry jumped back with a start.
“Fine, Davis! If you want to dance, we'll dance! We'll dance all bloody night long!”
She sneered at him. “No. If you're going to be petulant about it, I'm not interested. Maybe you should've come with an orangutan as your date instead, maybe she wouldn't mind that you're an insensitive wart!”
Tracey stormed off into the crowd of dancers. Ron sat down again, sulking.
Harry looked around the room, spotting Draco and Daphne.
“Draco seems to be enjoying himself, despite the fact he earlier looked angry at Hermione being with Krum,” Harry said.
Ron grunted, not looking up.
“Tracey has a point. Why'd you even come if you weren't going to at least try to have a good time?”
Ron glared at Harry. “Well let's see... first I get horrible ancient ugly dress robes, then I get better ones only thanks to charity from a friend, and then the girl I wanted to go to this thing with went with someone famous and good looking. Everything in my life is one pile of crap after another! I compete with five brothers for attention and possessions, I'm always outshone by the rest of my family, my only pet turned out to be an animagus in disguise and that thought just fills me with revulsion every time I think of it.
"My famous best friend gets unwillingly thrust into something I'd kill to be in myself, and now on top of everything else a world-famous Quidditch player gets Hermione out from under me because I'm to much of a pathetic, cowardly loser to ask her sooner. Oh yeah, and then there's wealthy Draco Malfoy competing with me for her too, which yeah, why would she ever pick someone as pathetic and poor as me when she's got all these much better options?”
Ron's eyes were watering now, and he angrily wiped them dry. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Ron beat him to it.
“Sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to rain on your parade. Go have fun with Luna, I'm going to go back up to my room and be miserable in peace.”
As Ron walked quickly from the room, Harry measured whether or not to go after him. But Ron probably really did want to be alone for a while.
“Dobby?” Harry said to the air.
With a small CRACK that was lost in the din of the music and cheering, Dobby appeared.
“Harry Potter is calling Dobby? What can Dobby be doing for you, sir?”
“You know Ron Weasley, right?”
Dobby nodded vigorously. “Yes, Dobby is knowing your Weezy!”
“Good. He just stormed off, upset. I think he just wants to be alone, but I'm worried about him. Can you keep an eye on him, at least until he gets back to his room?”
“Does Harry Potter worry his Weezy will hurt himself?”
“No, nothing like that. Just... I want to make sure he gets back to his room safely.”
Dobby nodded. “Dobby be doing that, sir! Right away!”
“Thank you Dobby. You may go and do that, now.”
Dobby disappeared with another CRACK that was again drowned out by the rest of the noise.
That done, Harry went back to the dance floor to find Luna again. As he looked for her, he noticed that in the time from when he left her til now, at least two songs had played.
“Oh Harry, you're back just in time for the next slow dance.”
“Good,” he said vaguely as the music began.
“Would you like me to lead again, Harry?”
“What? Oh yeah, sure.”
Luna smiled at Harry a little sadly and took the lead in their dance. Harry didn't notice, he was too preoccupied.
“I should've worn my butterbeer cork necklace tonight,” Luna said as they danced.
Harry looked up. “You took it off? But you never do that!”
“It's safe with Daddy. But I took it off because it didn't really go with the outfit, and I thought I could do without it for one evening. But you've got quite the nargle infestation right now, Harry. Which is why I should have worn it.”
“Just thinking about Ron.”
“What happened?”
Harry told her quietly what had happened, including the part where Ron ran off, clearly trying to prevent himself crying.
“But don't let on you know that part, I shouldn't have told you that. Now I know what Hagrid felt like our first year.”
“The secret is safe with me, Harry.”
“Thanks.” He sighed. “I just wish I knew what to do. Should I have followed him?”
“I think you're right, he needs some time alone. But maybe you should talk with him tomorrow.”
“Yeah. I gotta tell him he's not pathetic. He got us past that giant chess set our first year, that's no small feat. He figured out the First Task would be dragons, and helped me figure out what to do. Anyone would be lucky to have him as their boyfriend. Or their friend.”
“You're a kind boy, Harry. I think you'll be able to help him.”
Like an annoying insect landing on his face, he twitched again, but this time part of the mystery clunked into place for him.
"Luna, please stop calling me a boy. I don't like that word, at least when it's associated with me, I don't."
"Oh sorry, Harry. Are you not a boy? Are you actually a girl in the wrong body?"
"Er, no. I just don't like the word. Bad associations."
"Alright then, I won't call you that. Should I call you a young man, or a gentleman?"
Harry twitched again, which confused him more.
"I don't know. I guess I don't like those either, for some reason. Not sure why."
"Hmmm... What do like to wear when given the choice?"
"Just whatever is comfortable. Which I have a different definition of."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Take these robes for instance. The collar was too high, it made me feel like I was choking, until Parvati fixed it for me. Normal school robes don't do that, the collar is low enough on those."
“That was nice of her.”
“Yeah, it was.”
She nodded vaguely. “It felt like you had something more to say, though.”
"Oh, right. Yeah. Um... Okay, so when I wear Muggle clothes, the collar is too high on the boys shirts, so I er, prefer to shop for unisex looking blouses. Accidentally got one that was in the wrong part of the store once, it felt great, became a preference."
"I see."
"I guess I just... I really don't get why everything has to be gendered, it doesn't make much sense to me. It's not alive, clothing, so it doesn't really have a gender, I don't get why people have to give everything a gender."
That sparked a thought in his head. He pondered it, Luna remaining silent as she waited for the thought to complete itself.
"Now that I think of it... I don't get why anyone needs to be labeled with a gender, unless they choose one for themselves."
"Daddy says there's more than two genders. He's talked with a lot of people over the years, human and non human alike, heard a lot of interesting things. Other cultures have other ideas about gender. Many have three genders, or more.
"There are other options, too. The goblins let wizards think they're all male, but the truth is they don't even have any genders. They understand the concept, but they don't agree with it."
"Goblins don't have gender?"
"They don't. It makes sense. Nobody has ever seen a female goblin before, after all. Most people think they're cloistered away, but they don't have gender. Goblins value usefulness and contribution, and also social climbing. But every goblin has the same base value as any other goblin, until they earn more worth. There's a lot of things about their culture that wouldn't make any sense if they had genders."
"How do they, er..."
"Breed? Well I imagine they ask how the others in their marriages are equipped, and work it out from there."
After a moment of thought, he said, “That sounds familiar. I think... oh yeah! Firenze said something kinda similar, our first year. Firenze the centaur, I mean. When he... er... she... when Firenze rescued me from that thing in the Forbidden Forest that turned out to be Quirrelmort. Though now I think about it, that was more like... like gender, to centaurs, is like clothing. They put on a different one each day.”
“I like that one, too.”
Silence held for a few more moments.
“Yeah, I reject gender, for myself. I'm neither a boy nor a girl, nor anything else. Is there a term for that?”
“I believe it's called 'agender.'”
“Huh. That makes sense. 'Asexual' is already taken as a sexual orientation, and a- means 'without,' so 'agender' makes sense. 'Without gender.' I think that means I'm agender.”
He paused, considering the term like he was looking at a new outfit in the mirror. "Yeah, that feels right. I'm agender."
“Mmm hmm,” Luna said, smiling.
“Hmm... I wonder what that means for my sexuality. If I don't have gender, am I still heterosexual?”
“I don't know. But first, what pronouns should I use for you?”
He shrugged. “I dunno. The same as always, for now. At least until I've thought about it more. I don't mind he, his,him, and so on. It's 'boy,' 'young man,' and so on I don't like. Oh, and, Luna?”
“Yes?”
“Don't tell anyone else yet. I've just figured this out, I need time to mull it over.”
“I wouldn't have told anyone without your say-so first, even if you hadn't told me so.”
“I didn't think you would, but well... Thought I'd say so anyway, just in case.”
The song changed again, to something else up-tempo.
“Shall we get refreshments? I'm thirsty.”
“Sure, Harry. We can do that.”
Together, they went over to the refreshment table and got some punch, sitting down next to each other in companionable silence, both watching the other people on the dance floor. They spotted Danzia dancing with a confused-looking Tracey Davis, which made both of them chuckle. Antigone was dancing with Dumbledore, and Angela was dancing with Draco. Neither girl looked entirely comfortable with this. For his part, neither did Draco.
Next came Willem Stone dancing with another boy, which honestly only surprised Harry because he wondered who had invited Willem to the ball; Willem being a third year, he wouldn't have been able to come on his own. The boy he was dancing with might've been the answer to that, but it was hard to tell at this distance.
Then he saw Sirius for the first time all night, dancing with Ms. Pennyroyal. This reminded Harry he needed to talk with her. He handed his half-empty cup to Luna.
“Hold this for me, will you? I need to talk with Ms. Pennyroyal.”
“Of course, Harry. See you in a bit.”
He got up and went over to where she and Sirius were dancing.
“May I cut in?” he asked.
“Harry! There you are! I've been looking all over for you, pup!”
“Yes,” Ms. Pennyroyal said, “you may indeed cut in.”
“Sorry, Sirius. Later?”
“Sure thing, pup!”
Harry took Ms. Pennyroyal's hand and the two of them began to dance.
“You wanted to talk with me, didn't you?”
“Yes.”
Luckily, the music was quiet enough they could talk without too much trouble.
“What about?”
“I solved the puzzle box. There's going to be some kind of race or obstacle course in the mountains.”
She listened as he told her the contents of the poem the box had given him, and what he and his friends had worked out about it.
“So I was wondering how that's safe? I mean, if it's up in the mountains...”
“Ah, that. I did actually bully Bagman into giving up some more of the information about the Second Task. Had to swear to him I wouldn't tell you until after you solved the puzzle box, of course. Anyway, turns out that most people don't know this, but the mountains to the northeast of us are part of the Hogwarts grounds, and covered by the wards.”
“Really? Why?”
“Something about the Forbidden Forest going into part of the mountains, and it being easier to ward the mountains to cover the whole Forbidden Forest. Also, I think warding the mountains makes it easier to keep Muggles away. Not entirely sure how that works, but it isn't important. What's important is that the wards cover the mountains, and the way the wards work, those mountains get just as much protection as the school itself.”
“Oh. Well that's a relief. Thanks for finding that out for me, and for telling me. Can you tell me anything else?”
“No, sorry. Except that again, Sirius will be allowed to go with you as Padfoot. Oh, and there will be flying omnioculars keeping an eye on the Champions the whole time.”
“You know Sirius's other name then, eh?”
“What? Oh, that. Yes, he told me.”
“Good, good. Oh by the way, I don't like being called a Champion. I was entered into this thing against my will. I want people to refer to me as a participant or something like that.”
“I understand, Mr. Potter. I'll make a note of it.”
“Oh yeah, and I don't feel comfortable accepting points for the tasks, either. Maybe one point per judge. I don't want to win, I just want to survive this thing. So the points are meaningless to me. Let one of the other three get the points, since they chose to participate.”
She smiled at him. “I'll do that, Mr. Potter. I'll talk with the judges about that as soon as I can. In fact...”
The song ended.
“Now sounds good.”
Harry bowed to her, thanked her, and went back to find Luna, who was still sitting down, sipping her punch.
“You know you don't have to stay here if I go off doing something else, right? You can go do other things too.”
“I know, Harry. But I wanted to wait for you. After all, it would be difficult to let you know where I'd gone if I did that.”
Sirius appeared from the crowd just then. “Harry, there you are again!”
Harry grinned. “Hi, Sirius.”
“Wow, all these people and you're still okay? How's that?”
Luna looked curious about this too, so Harry explained briefly about the sense-dulling potion, explaining he wouldn't be making a habit of using it, and why.
“Oh. Well at least you're able to use it for special occasions like this,” Sirius said.
Harry nodded.
“Did you bring a date with you, Sirius?” Luna asked him.
“Nah. Came stag. Would've brought Zuzanna, but she's a Muggle, and we haven't known each other long.”
Harry perked up, interested. “Zuzanna? Is that the girl you were with that one day when you were drunk on the mirror-call?”
“Yes, that's who I mean. Even though we haven't known each other long, I wish I could've brought her here. Oh well. Anyway, you two enjoy yourselves, I'm gonna go see if I can get McGonagall to dance with me.”
He walked off back into the crowd. Luna stood up and took Harry by the hand.
“Shall we dance?”
“Yes, I believe we shall.”
As they danced again, Harry asked Luna about the odd flower she had for her corsage. She informed him it was a Moon Maiden, a magical flower that usually only blooms in the light of a full moon, but if you pick it while it's blooming, it stays open and lasts for seven months before it begins to wither. And what was more, Harry had been right about it seeming to glow. It did in fact emit a faint glow like moonlight, which was more obvious in the dark.
Harry had a lot of fun that night, as did Luna. They didn't just dance with each other; she danced with Danzia, Angela, Antigone, Draco, and Willem Stone. So did Harry, in fact. Draco got rather a kick out of Colin taking a picture of him and Harry dancing, kept saying he was looking forward to seeing Ron's face. When he then began to wonder aloud where Ron had gone, Harry deftly changed the subject. Well... Draco seemed to know what he'd done, so maybe not as deft as he'd like, but Draco didn't press him for any more information.
After dancing with Draco, Harry got asked to dance by Professor Moody. He didn't really want to, because he'd seen how bad a dancer Moody was, but he agreed anyway.
“So Potter, you figure that puzzle box out yet?”
Harry considered not telling him at first, but then changed his mind.
“Yes,” he said. Then he explained the rest of what it had said, and what he and his friends thought it meant. He also explained what Ms. Pennyroyal had said about the wards extending out there.
“Yeah, that's basically it. I don't know all the details myself, it's a bit of a long way for me to walk to with this blasted wooden leg. Good to hear it'll be safe, relatively speaking anyway. Well, I'll let you go find someone better looking to dance with now, laddie.”
Repressing a sigh, Harry nodded and went off to find Luna again.
~
Leaving the ball and heading out into the rose garden outside were a pair of giggling 6th year girls, who were very careful not to be spotted by any of the teachers, especially not the history of magic teacher. One girl's dress was pink, the other's was blue. The one in pink was pulling the other along by her hand, but not very hard because the other girl was not the least bit reluctant, she was simply shorter than the other girl. Only by five inches, true, but her stride was not as long as the other's.
The front doors stood open, making their exit smoother. Fluttering fairy lights in the rose garden winked and twinkled as they went down the front steps, where they found themselves surrounded by bushes; winding, ornamental paths; and large stone statues. They could hear splashing water, which sounded like a fountain. Here and there, people were sitting on carved benches. They set off along one of the winding paths through the rosebushes, but they had gone only a short way when they heard an unpleasantly familiar voice.
“… don’t see what there is to fuss about, Igor.”
“Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t happening!” Karkaroff’s voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I cannot deny it —”
“Then flee,” said Snape’s voice curtly. “Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts.”
Snape and Karkaroff came around the corner. Snape had his wand out and was blasting rosebushes apart, his expression most ill-natured. Squeals issued from many of the bushes, and dark shapes emerged from them.
“Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!” Snape snarled as a girl ran past him. “And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!” as a boy went rushing after her. “And what are you two doing?” he added, catching sight of the two girls, still holding hands. Karkaroff, Antigone saw, looked slightly discomposed to see them standing there. His hand went nervously to his goatee, and he began winding it around his finger.
“It's a beautiful night. We were just out for a walk.”
Snape sneered at them. “I see. And I suppose you think I am unaware, Miss Dreyfuss, Miss Whitechapel, that you two are lovers? 'Just out for a walk' indeed!”
“We're both 17, professor. We can go out for a walk if we like.”
“You are in sixth year, are you not?”
“Yes, but like Hermione, we're a year behind because of how close our birthdays are to the start of the school year.”
Snape considered this in tense, aggravated silence for several moments before he sneered again.
“Go, then. Out of my sight! And wherever you go, don't make a spectacle of yourselves,” Snape snarled, and he brushed past them, his long black cloak billowing out behind him. Karkaroff hurried away after Snape.
“I wonder what that was all about? Why is Karkaroff scared?” Antigone thought aloud.
“Yeah, and since when have he and Professor Snape been on first-name terms?”
“Well whatever, let's keep going. Snape's right, it'll be easier if we can find someplace we won't be seen.”
“Oh my,” Angela said jokingly, “are you taking me somewhere to corrupt a young virgin such as myself?”
Antigone snorted in disbelief. Angela made an exclamation of shocked offense and punched her girlfriend in the arm.
“Ow! What was that for?” she asked, rubbing the area with her free hand.
“It sounded like you were implying that I am not, in fact, a daisy-fresh girl.”
“Ugh, don't use that phrase to describe it, please. You make me feel old and perverted saying it that way, even though we're the same age.”
“What? Why?”
“It's very close to sounding like a quote from a very infamous book by a certain Russian author.”
“An infamous book? What-- oh. Oh.” Angela blushed.
“Hold on, quiet please,” Antigone said. “Something is going on.”
They had reached a large stone reindeer now, over which they could see the sparkling jets of a tall fountain. The shadowy outlines of two enormous people were visible on a stone bench, watching the water in the moonlight. And then they heard Hagrid speak.
“Momen’ I saw yeh, I knew,” he was saying, in an oddly husky voice.
Antigone and Angela froze. This didn’t sound like the sort of scene they ought to walk in on, somehow. … Antigone looked around, back up the path, and saw Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies standing half-concealed in a rosebush nearby. She tapped Angela on the shoulder and jerked her head toward them, meaning that they could easily sneak off that way without being noticed (Fleur and Davies looked very busy to her). Angela nodded and they began to creep that direction. But with Fleur and Davies now blocking the path, they didn't get far before there was an answering voice.
“What did you know, ’Agrid?” said Madame Maxime, a purr in her low voice.
Antigone definitely didn’t want to listen to this; she knew Hagrid would hate to be overheard in a situation like this (she certainly would have) — if it had been possible she would have put her fingers in her ears and hummed loudly, but that wasn’t really an option. Instead she tried to interest herself in a beetle crawling along the stone reindeer’s back, but the beetle just wasn’t interesting enough to block out Hagrid’s next words.
“I jus’ knew … knew you were like me. … Was it yer mother or yer father?”
“I — I don’t know what you mean, ’Agrid. …”
“It was my mother,” said Hagrid quietly. “She was one o’ the las’ ones in Britain. ’Course, I can’ remember her too well. She left, see. When I was abou’ three. She wasn’ really the maternal sort. Well, it’s not in their natures, is it? Dunno what happened to her. Might be dead fer all I know.”
Antigone shook her head and dragged Angela down past Delacour and Davies, who had gone slightly deeper into the bushes. But the two were still hard to navigate around, and Angela was studiously not looking in Fleur's direction, which made getting them out of there even more difficult.
“Me dad was broken-hearted when she wen’. Tiny little bloke, my dad was. By the time I was six I could lift him up an’ put him on top o’ the dresser if he annoyed me. Used ter make him laugh.” Hagrid’s deep voice broke. Madame Maxime was listening, motionless, apparently staring at the silvery fountain. “Dad raised me, but he died, o’ course, jus’ after I started school. Sorta had ter make me own way after that. Dumbledore was a real help, mind. Very kind ter me, he was.”
Hagrid, you poor naïve fool of a man, Antigone thought.
Hagrid pulled out a large spotted silk handkerchief and blew his nose heavily.
“So anyway, enough abou’ me. What about you? Which side you got it on?”
What happened next, they missed most of it, as they'd finally got past Davies and his date, but the two large adults were loud enough they caught the jist of it anyway. Hagrid was a half giant, and he had assumed Madam Maxime was, too. She had to be, of course – purely mundane humans rarely get over six or seven feet tall and these two were easily 10 or 11 feet tall each. That didn't mean he should be talking about it where anyone could overhear. It was no wonder Madam Maxime was outraged at the suggestion. If he'd asked her about it somewhere private, maybe she would have responded better. But honestly, Hagrid should know better. He'd kept the secret this long, which for him was quite the feat, why couldn't he have kept it longer?
By the time Antigone and Angela finally found somewhere to be alone together, neither girl was in the mood anymore. They just sat there and talked, instead.
“Half giant. Well I'm not at all surprised,” Antigone said. “I figured he had to be, at that size.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“He must have gotten his kindly nature from his father, from what I've heard.”
“They can't all be bad. If they were, how would Hagrid's mum--”
“Stop, I don't want to think about it. If I think about that, I'll wonder about the mechanics of it, and then... damn, there it went anyway, I'm thoroughly grossed out now.”
“Should we tell the others?”
“I figure we should. There were so many other people around I doubt it'll stay a secret for long now. Maybe not all of them, but Harry and Hermione at least should know.”
“Yeah, I agree.”
Angela leaned her head against Antigone's shoulder and snuggled up close to her for warmth. Antigone took her wand out of her bag and cast Warming Charms on them both. Putting her wand back, she hugged Angela close and the two girls looked at the starry sky over the Black Lake in silence.
~
When the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause and started to wend their way into the entrance hall. Many people were expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, but Harry was perfectly happy to be going to bed; the ball had been fun, but his feet hurt and he was getting tired.
Out in the entrance hall, Harry and Luna saw Hermione saying good night to Krum before he went back to the Durmstrang ship. She waved at them again and approached to talk with them. But Cedric called to Harry before she could speak. Harry turned his attention to Cedric while the others waited.
“Hey, Harry!”
“Yes?” Harry asked curiously.
Cedric looked at the girls like he didn't want to say whatever it was in front of them.
“We'll meet you at the top of the stairs, Harry,” Luna said, and she beckoned Hermione to follow her. Harry waved back at them.
“Listen,” Cedric lowered his voice as the girls disappeared. “I still owe you one for telling me about the dragons. I made a breakthrough on that puzzle box if you're interested.”
“I think I know what you're going to say, but I'm listening.”
“Okay, so you answered all the riddles, right?”
“Yes.”
“And when you did, nothing happened? I mean, it didn't solve the box, right?”
Harry cocked his head, thinking a moment before saying, “Correct.”
“Well you have to answer the riddles in the right order. It took me weeks to sort out what order it was in, but well, it's 1 6 2--”
“--5 3 4?” Harry finished for him.
Cedric's face fell. “You cracked it already?”
“Just this last Sunday, with Luna's help. Sorry.”
“No, that's okay. There's still the poem thing to sort out.”
“Yeah, I think I have a fair idea what that means, too. Did you want the answer or did you want to work it out yourself?”
“Damn. No, I want to work it out myself. You're really good at this.”
“Not really. I have friends helping me.”
“You can do that?”
“As long as they're not teachers, other school staff, or Ministry workers, sure. Friends among the students, that's not against the rules.”
“Oh. Well I guess I'll ask my friends for help too, then.”
“I'm surprised you hadn't already, to be honest.”
“Well I'd better go finish saying goodbye to Cho. See you!”
He waved at Cedric as the older boy left and started up the stairs. As he did, Harry heard talking from behind him and turned to look. Draco and Daphne were passing the stairs on their way to their own dorm, talking in low voices. Judging by their expressions, they were having an argument. Tracey was trailing them, looking annoyed. She had on her arm a boy Harry didn't recognize. At least she hadn't let Ron's problems spoil her fun tonight, it seemed.
Harry met Luna and Hermione at the top of the stairs as she'd said, and the three of them walked together as Harry escorted Luna toward the Ravenclaw common room, talking about what Cedric had wanted and about the ball until it came time for Hermione to go on to Griffindor alone, Harry continuing to escort Luna back to her own common room.
“I had a lovely time tonight, Harry,” Luna said. “Thanks for asking me to go with you.”
“You're welcome. I hope we do another dance next year, that was fun. I know in the states, secondary schools have a 'homecoming' dance every year, whatever that means. They also have an annual 'prom' dance primarily for the final two years' classes of each year. I think it's a celebration of their impending graduation.”
“That sounds amazing. I agree, we should have more dances at Hogwarts. Of course you know if you want to go to a dance, there are such events among the upper class. You and Sirius are each wealthy enough you could go. And you could bring a date.”
“When are these events?”
“There's usually a winter dance, I know that much. And a spring one as well, I think. Beyond that, I think you'd have to ask Draco about it.”
“I think I might just do that. This was fun.”
“Yes. But I'm tired and my feet hurt, so I'm going to go to bed soon. Anyway, we're here.”
She reached toward the eagle-head shaped knocker, but Harry gently touched her hand, stopping her.
“Allow me to get the door for you, my lady.”
Luna giggled, then curtsied. “As you wish, my lord.”
Harry knocked on the door with the knocker, and the beak of the bird spoke.
“I am not water, but you can drown in me. I have no substance, yet you can float in me. I am nowhere, yet I am everywhere. What am I?”
“Ah,” Harry said, thinking. “Are you the void of outer space?”
“Correct,” the knocker said, and the door opened.
Luna and Harry said their last quick goodnight, and she left through the door.
By himself now, Harry went on to Griffindor tower, feeling like he was floating pleasantly along.
The Fat Lady and her friend Vi were snoozing in the picture over the portrait hole. Harry had to yell “Fairy lights!” before he woke them up, and when he did, they were extremely irritated. He climbed into the common room and was shocked to find Ron and Hermione having a blazing row. Standing ten feet apart, they were bellowing at each other, each scarlet in the face.
“I don't know what your problem is, Ron! Draco asked me out and got rejected too, for the same reason as you, but I didn't see him pitching a fit about it!”
“What's my problem? I'll tell you what my problem is! My problem is he's older than you, Hermione! He's probably some kind of creep trying to get into your knickers, or maybe he wants dirt on Harry so he can win the tournament!”
“He's only two years older than me, Ron, and he was a perfect gentleman. Which is more than I can say about you, tonight! We haven't discussed Harry at all, either, so you're just grasping at straws! You weren't even there most of the night, I don't see why you think you get to ruin my fun just because you were off having a pity party for yourself! And I don't care, either! Just grow up already!”
Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the girls’ staircase to bed. Ron turned to Harry, looking for support. Harry lifted a hand up in a bid for the floor. Ron closed his mouth, waiting for Harry to gather his thoughts.
When Harry was ready, he said, “I'm not getting involved, Ron. All I'm going to say is something Luna told me when I was asking her to the dance. She said, essentially, 'it's just one dance. Just because two people go to the dance together doesn't mean they're dating.' Oh and also... one other thing I'm going to say is that if you have feelings for Hermione, getting into fights with her isn't going to win her over. Jealousy is never attractive.”
Harry paused a moment to think some more while Ron blinked at him. Then Harry continued, “Okay, and one last thing I just thought of. I just have to think how to word it... okay, so uh, okay, I got it.” Harry took Ron by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes, an action that got Ron's full attention, since it was so uncommon for Harry to make eye contact.
“You're not pathetic, Ron. You're clever, loyal, brave, fun to be around most of the time, you look out for and defend your friends, and you're caring. Those are the kind of things that are most important. When we graduate, it's not really going to matter if you were a prefect or not, a head boy or not, or whatever else it is your brothers have been. And if you're poor, yeah that's not ideal, but look at your parents: they're poor but they're happy with one another. I know these things bother you, Ron, but to the right person, those things won't matter. What will matter is that's you're a good person.
“You have flaws, of course. Everyone does. Yours are jealousy, a lack of confidence, and a hot-headed nature. Be aware of these flaws, try to improve yourself. Let the good parts of your nature shine. And be patient. We're still only in fourth year. I've heard from Sirius and Remus that my mum didn't even like my dad much at all for most of their school career until Dad mellowed out and let the good parts of his nature shine. It's not a guarantee, of course, because there are no guarantees in life except for the guarantee of dying eventually. But well... it can't hurt to try.
“Anyway,” Harry said, letting go of Ron's shoulders, “I know I'm ending this on a bit of an anticlimax, but I've run out of deep and meaningful things to say. Good night, Ron.”
With that, Harry went upstairs to go get changed for bed. Ron, for his part, stood there staring back up at the staircase, a thoughtful look on his face. He stayed there for quite some time, thinking, before going to bed himself.
Endnotes: Antigone and Angela were “in the mood” for a snog, AKA “making out” AKA kissing. Just wanted to clarify that.
Trying to find a map of Hogwarts and surrounding environs that makes sense to me and isn't shitty is a difficult task. But I finally found one I like, just had to reorient my thinking a little: https://is.gd/k6RFth
Harry's hairstyle: https://is.gd/Qzu5VM
The “infamous book” Antigone is referring to in that scene is, of course, “Lolita” by Vladimir Nabokov. Antigone is a halfblood, as her mother is Muggle-born. Angela is a Muggle-born. The quote in question was “I was a daisy-fresh girl and look what you've done to me.” Both would, thus, know about that book. But Antigone's parents being academic sorts (her father is an amateur historian as a hobby when he's not running his business) would make her more likely to remember that book and that quote from it.
