I don't own Harry Potter. Nor am I able to dance.
And more amusement for us ahead at Ron's expense.
----
Chapter 7 - The Yule Ball
Somewhere beyond the mortal realm of existence, a man no more than eighteen years of age dressed completely in black
was sitting at a small fold-out table, fussing with a stack of folders piled higher than his head. As an intern for the
Department of Death and Resurrection, he assumed a variety of duties, depending on which job needed to be done at the
time. Today, he was one of several interns training to become Reapers by covering for Mara Jade, one of the prettier,
but more bi-polar Reapers.
Then again, bi-polarity seems to be common amongst the Reapers, he observed. Maybe it was a personality requisite.
At the moment, he was looking through the file for one Harry James Potter, which Mara had had stamped the word TOP PRIORITY in bold red letters that covered almost the whole front cover of the folder. Right now, it showed that he was currently attempting to dance with, according to the file, his soul mate; the young man got some slight amusement watching Harry stepping on the girl's toes.
"At least he's not doing anything dangerous," the intern muttered to himself as he grabbed another file and skimmed through it. "Although if Mara's rants are any indication, he might trip and give himself a lethal concussion or something stupid like that." As a frequent attendant to the entry desk for newly deceased souls, this particular intern was familiar with the messy-haired, bespectacled wizard that caused his Reaper so much grief.
"At least he doesn't go looking for trouble," he muttered again, "not like that annoying silver-haired kid with the freaky arm. Zero? Nero? Something like that. I was almost out of time before I got that stupid sword fixed…" he continued to mutter darkly as he continued checking more files, always keeping an attentive eye on the Potter file.
------
"Sorry," Harry apologized as he stepped on Hermione's foot for the fifth time that day.
"That's okay," Hermione winced, silently thankful that she was wearing thick shoes, or else her toes might have broken by now. "I thought you did this already," she pointed out as she sat down and removed her shoe, massaging her sore foot.
"I was following that time," Harry said as he sat down, "and I didn't exactly have time to practice after that." He frowned as he suddenly realized something. "Say, how do you know how to dance?" Hermione shot an exasperated glance at him, and he nodded. "Oh wait, I forgot: you know everything."
"Not everything," she corrected, slipping her shoe back on, "but almost everything." She stood up and pulled Harry up to her, assuming their respective positions for a simple waltz. "Now, it's really quite simple; it's all about unison. When I step forward, you step back. When I sidestep, you follow. Now, let's try again. Your left foot first." She slowly moved her foot forward, and he pulled his back, a little too quickly, causing them to stumble. They both laughed as they righted themselves and tried again. Hermione stepped forward, and Harry stepped back, this time without incident. "Very good, Harry," Hermione congratulated, "now the other foot." They moved their other feet to meet their first. "Now, step to the side." They both took a step to the side and straightened up.
They kept repeating those three steps to improve their rhythm and timing, although Harry kept looking down at their feet to make sure that he did not lose track.
"I know that you're still learning, Harry," Hermione said, "but I suggest that you don't do that at the Yule Ball; people might get the wrong idea." Harry quickly realized what she meant and averted his eyes to steadily stare at an imaginary object just over Hermione's shoulder, mumbling an apology. Hermione laughed and stepped back. "It's okay, Harry. You're a teenager; it's perfectly natural." They both decided that they had practiced enough for the day, and left their separate ways. Since it was a Saturday, there was nothing particularly pressing for Harry, so he decided to take a walk around the grounds.
"Harry, wait up!" a voice yelled behind him. Harry turned around to see a panting Cedric jog up to him.
"Cedric, what's wrong?" Harry asked with a confused expression, although in reality he knew exactly what this was about.
"No, nothing's wrong," Cedric waved away as he tried to catch his breath. "I just wanted to tell you something. I never thanked you for telling me about the dragon, so I thought I'd return the favor. I assume that you're still working on the egg?" Harry simply gave an affirmative shrug; he already knew what it said, of course, but it would do no good for Cedric to know that. "Well, next time you take a bath, take the egg with you; mull things over in the hot water." Harry muttered his thanks as Cedric walked off to his own destination. As soon as Cedric rounded the corner, Harry continued his walk, unaware of the disillusioned audience that they had.
------
As he watched the exchange between the two Hogwarts champions, the Death Eater spy Barty Crouch Jr., currently disguised as the insane ex-auror Mad-Eye Moody and further covered with a disillusionment charm, resisted the urge to blow his cover by laughing maniacally. Things were falling into plan perfectly, and by year's end, his master would be well on his way to taking over magical Britain.
His attempt to trick the Goblet of Fire to spit out the Potter brat's name in as the sole participant for a fictional fourth school worked out perfectly. While Potter's defiance was an unexpected variable, it proved for naught, as no one of any consequence seemed to believe his claims of innocence. Not that it would have mattered anyway, with the way magical oaths work….
Potter had managed to get past the dragon without much incident, but seemed to be having problems figuring out the next task, so he instructed the Diggory boy to give him a little nudge in the right direction; a little tit for tat. Hufflepuffs were so easy to manipulate.
Now, all Crouch could do was hope that Potter would manage to avoid being killed or grievously injured before the third task; after that, he would sabotage the other champions and guarantee Potter's victory.
He only hoped that the sniveling rat on the other end would complete his part of the plan without any complications.
------
Several days later, Harry and Hermione were sitting alone in the Common Room. Hermione was curled up in a chair, reading Hogwarts: A History, while Harry stretched out on a couch, dozing off while trying to read a book on dueling tactics, when the portrait swung open to reveal a pale Ron being held up by several classmates.
"Let me guess, he tried to ask Fleur Delacour?" Harry asked, looking up from his book. Ron merely nodded his head slightly in affirmation. "And I take it she said no?" Ron shook his head again, this time negatively. "Is that a `no, she said yes' or `no, she said no?'" Harry pressed.
"She said no," Ron finally managed to choke out. Harry sighed and returned to his book.
"I won't say `I told you so', because I didn't, but I definitely saw it coming," Harry deadpanned. Ron finally snapped out of his shocked stupor and turned towards his unsympathetic friend.
"Why didn't you say something, then?!" the redhead demanded.
"Would you have believed me if I had said anything?" Harry retorted in an apathetic tone. Ron lowered his head as he realized that Harry had a point. However, a moment later, he perked up as realization dawned on his face and pointed at Hermione.
"Wait a minute, you're a girl, right?" he asked her.
"Stunning observation, Ron," Hermione said dryly, "it only took you four years to figure that out." Ron seemed oblivious to her sarcasm as he continued on.
"No, I mean, you could go to the ball with me," the redhead said excitedly. Hermione pretended to consider it for a moment.
"I could…" she said, causing Ron's hopes to rise, "…if I didn't already have a date," and subsequently shatter.
"W-what?!" Ron sputtered incredulously. "How could you have a date? Not even Harry has a date!"
"Leave me out of this," Harry grumbled softly, although everyone could hear him. The other students present had the wisdom to vacate the premises before yet another legendary argument erupted between the two.
"I have a date because someone asked me to go, and I accepted," Hermione said sharply, closing her book, "and I frankly don't see why it's any concern of yours; you don't own me, Ronald," she continued through clenched teeth. Without another word, she grabbed her books and stomped up the stairs, leaving a cowed Ron and a grinning Harry.
"Smooth one, Ron," Harry drawled.
"Shut up, Harry," Ron snapped.
------
Every day until the night of the Yule Ball, Ron was speculating to Harry about whom Hermione's date was, and Harry was growing tired of it. Ron had managed to obtain a date from Padma Patil, although Harry had a feeling that her acceptance was more out of pity than anything else.
"So, who do you think Hermione's going with?" Ron asked once again.
"Ron, it's none of our business who Hermione goes with," Harry sighed, falling into his role in a tired routine.
"Hey, maybe she won't be coming at all tonight; she's not exactly the social type," Ron continued ignoring Harry. Thankfully, he decided to change the subject. "It's a shame that you didn't manage to find a date, though. Who would've thought that Harry Potter couldn't snag a girl?" he asked, laughing at Harry's expense.
"Actually, I did manage to find a date," Harry responded, taking Ron off-guard.
"What?" he asked, shocked. "Who? When? How?" he sputtered.
"It's a surprise," Harry said simply, grinning conspiratorially. As if on cue, Hermione came into view and descended the stairs, dressed in a periwinkle blue dress and her hair in an elegant bun. Harry extended a hand, which Hermione took before Harry kissed her knuckle elegantly. "You are looking absolutely marvelous tonight, dear lady," he said in an aristocratic voice, silently enjoying the dumbfounded look that was plastered on Ron's face.
"As do you, good sir," Hermione replied, echoing his regal tone. "If you could be so kind as to please escort me to the ball?"
"With pleasure, my lady," Harry said as he began to lead Hermione to the main dance hall when Ron's enraged voice stopped them.
"I can't believe you two!" the angry redhead shouted, stopping everybody in their tracks. Harry sighed; he had hoped that this would not happen, but was thankful that at least it happened in the hallway instead of the dance hall. "I can't believe that you two would go behind my back like this!" Harry took deep, calming breaths while Hermione rounded on Ron, rage burning in her eyes.
"We don't need your permission to go together, Ronald Weasley; the world doesn't revolve around you!" she yelled back. Ron ignored her and turned to Harry.
"It's so bloody unfair!" Ron spat at Harry. "You get everything: Money, fame, a new broomstick! You could've had any girl you wanted, if you just grew some balls, but the one thing I could have that was just mine, and you stole her from me!" Harry opened his mouth to respond when Hermione erupted in fury.
"So that's all I am to you? A bloody prize to be won?!" she raged. "Well guess what, Weasley, you can go to hell for all I care, because I refuse to be friends or even associated with such a shallow, petty, immature prat!" She stomped over to Ron and slapped him so hard that his entire body was spinning, a bold red hand mark on his cheek. Satisfied with her work, Hermione spun around and marched forward, grabbing Harry's arm and roughly dragging him into the dance hall. As they entered, Harry thought he heard crack, followed by what sounded like Padma's voice yelling obscenities at someone.
It turned out that they were the of the champions to arrive; Cedric had brought Cho Chang; Fleur Delacour was with a seventh-year Hufflepuff that seemed to be struggling not to drool all over his date, and Viktor Krum was with what seemed to be one of his fan girls, the way that she was giggling and fawning over him. With all the champions present, Professor Flitwick began to conduct the orchestra, beginning with a slow waltz. Harry and Hermione took their respective positions and began to dance alongside the other champions, the other couples gradually joining in. While Harry and Hermione were far from the best dancers in the room, they were also not the worse; many of the other fourth-years were having difficulties, and Fleur was struggling with her dance partner, who was so entranced that he kept stumbling.
After the opening song, Professor Dumbledore welcomed the magical rock band The Weird Sisters. Harry danced through a couple of their upbeat songs, but had to stop to catch his breath. After a few more songs, Harry wandered off to escape the crowds.
As Harry left the vicinity of the ball, Harry heard Hagrid talk to Madame Maxine - none too subtly - about his giant heritage, and questioning his companion about it. Harry knew that this meant that Rita Skeeter was around somewhere, listening in. Harry scanned the area, and saw a small beetle perched on the ear of a stone deer. Harry pulled out a rolled up newspaper that he had brought specifically for this occasion and swung at the beetle, narrowly missing it before it flew off into the darkness. Shoving the newspaper back into his pocket, Harry decided that it was time to return to the ball.
------
Near the edge of the lake on the Hogwarts grounds, a small beetle buzzed around before morphing into a woman, who immediately sat down on a large stone, gasping heavily and clutching her heart. As she recovered from the attempt on her life (unknown to her, Harry intentionally missed her), only one thought ran through her mind.
Perhaps it would not be a good idea to print that exposé on Rubeus Hagrid after all.
----
OMAKE: Lunch Break Meeting
"Hey, guys," Mara sighed as she flopped into a chair, clutching onto a folder like her life depended on it. Not that it did since she was already dead, but metaphors do not care about such technicalities. Also sitting at the table was a tall, thin man in a business suit, a teenaged girl who was wearing oversized glasses and wizard's robes that seemed a few sizes too large for her body, and a skeleton of a rat holding a scythe and wearing a hooded cloak.
"Hey," the man, Maximillion Caldwell (Max to his friends) greeted.
"Hi, Mara," the girl, Wilhelmina (Mina) said cheerfully.
SQUEAK, the skeletal rodent…squeaked. SQUEAK?
"Like you wouldn't believe," Mara sighed as she opened her folder. "I just managed to keep my problem child from getting his sorry ass from being char-broiled…again," she grumbled, with the others nodding in understanding. Every Reaper had a particular client that caused them undue grief, colloquially know as their "problem child", regardless of said client's actual age. "And since he doesn't have any memory of his past lives, I have to keep watch over him every single freaking second!" She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "So," she said chipperly, "how have things been on your end?" The other occupants of the table shrugged neutrally.
"I just had a discussion with my own problem child concerning the details of our contract," Max said vaguely.
"I got a warning that I could get into trouble if I interfere with my PC any more," Mina said casually, although there was an obvious hint of nervousness in her voice.
SQUEAK, the Grim Squeaker squeaked. The other three Reapers all groaned in disgust at the rodent's statement, gaining the attention of the other Reapers in the room.
"We did not need to know that!" Max exclaimed loudly. Any further comments were cut off when a large set of doors opened, revealing several interns pushing carts laden with food. A young, scruffy man dressed in black walked over to the table where Mara, Max, Mina and the Grim Squeaker were seated. When he saw the humans' slightly pale complexions, he frowned in confusion.
"What'd I-" the intern began, before he was interrupted by the three human Reapers.
"Don't ask."
----
To avoid spoilers, I put my additional disclaimers down here. I also don't own Devil May Cry, Discworld, or the characters Max and Mina. Max and Mina are owned by fellow authors and challenge takers Artemis Day and kittydemon18 (a.k.a., strawberry nerd), and are used with their permission. Thanks a bunch, ladies!
As always, don't forget to review!
-->