No more lies (To Victory)

CHAPTER 10

°°••°°

Bubbly excited chattering was filling the Great Hall while the only thing Harry could feel was dread.

The Ball was later today.

Harry immediately beelined for the Slytherin table as he noticed Ginny looking intently at him from the moment he stepped foot into this place.

He knew exactly what she wanted and what she believed she'd get.

Oh, what a spectacle it'll be once she finds out the truth.

"Running from angry gingers again, Harry?" Blaise asked, pleasant as you please. He had a perfect view of all three Weasleys, and could see the Weaselette almost foaming at the mouth once Harry sat down with them.

"Ah, you've noticed?"

"Hard not to. Heard her boasting to a few ravenclaws how you two are going together today and how wonderful it'll be."

"Not to mention she's still staring at you. Methinks you have a stalker."

Harry furrowed his nose in disgust, emitting laughter from his yearmates.

"Shut up. Just wait for her to blow up once she's left stranded."

"That won't be pretty," Theo muttered. "Their mother is rumoured to have banshee blood. I mean, everyone has heard her ear-piercing howlers. Wouldn't be too far off the mark for her daughter to be like her too."

Harry grimaced. If they thought her howlers were bad, they should be glad they never had to endure the real thing.

Molly did have a thing for screeching.

Oh no, Harry's eyes widened with realisation.

He's pretty sure he'll be on the receiving end of her howler by tomorrow morning.

Fuck that shit.

He should prepare some sort of ward or just burn the thing before it even opens its mouth.

"Oh, by the way, your snake is in our dorm," Draco pointed out.

"Why?" 

"Came with Cassius yesterday. Poor bloke was terrified." Theo nodded solemnly. "Said Loki just climbed up on him after he left Moody’s detention and only got off in our common room, replacing Cassius with Draco." 

Draco preened a little, clearly happy to be the snake's favourite.

Harry, on the other hand, was frowning.

It sounded like his snake was almost caught by Moody. The damn ex-auror knew he had a snake and Harry was certain he recognized it too. Unfortunately for him, Moody wasn’t an idiot.

Harry needs to be more careful. For all he knows, this will be reported to Dumbledore. 

He's surprised it hasn't happened already. Why would Moody keep quiet about it? Was there an ulterior motive? Or was Harry too paranoid?

"I'll go get him after breakfast," Harry stated, receiving a few nods in response. He might as well use this time to write a letter to Sirius and see if the man is still alive.

It was shocking he’s yet to receive anything since September. Perhaps someone was intercepting his letters.

Which wouldn't be surprising one bit. Dumbledore wouldn't want him to have any more outside influence, especially with his less than gryffindor behaviour as of late.

"...Harry?"

Harry turned to Draco, who looked incredibly nervous for some reason. It wasn't like the boy at all.

"Hm?"

"I uh… you're staying at Hogwarts after the Yule Ball, right?"

"Where else would I go?" Harry answered almost on instinct. He'd rather subject himself to Ginny's company than go back to being a slave for the Dursleys. Perhaps after this year, he wouldn't have to go. Emancipation did have its perks.

Voldemort unknowingly saved him from his relatives, even if it was in order to kill him with this tournament. He should send a gift basket or something.

The looks of worry slytherins shared went completely over Harry's head, as he was too preoccupied imagining Voldemort’s face at receiving the basket.

It'd be totally worth it.

"Well, students are allowed to leave after the Ball, if they wish, but most are staying in the castle. However, my parents still insist I attend the Malfoy Yule Ball and I was wondering if- if you'd like to attend with me," Draco stammered the last part and his cheeks were flaming red as he finished.

Harry was alternating between shock and amusement.

Did- did he just get invited to a very exclusive Malfoy Yule Ball personally ? 

And all it took was- was being himself and a few months of tentative friendship?

This was way too easy.

Draco still looked like a mess and for a moment looked fearful of rejection, so Harry offered him a rare genuine smile.

"Sure, Draco. Why not?"

The boy instantly relaxed. Blaise with Theo started snickering.

Harry shot them an inquiring look.

"Oh, he tried to bribe us to go as well, but there's no way we're going this year."

"Why not?"

"All the action is at Hogwarts this year," Theo grinned. "And we've been to every single Ball for as long as we can remember. It gets tedious, especially since we get stuck with each other anyway while adults socialize."

"We're quite happy to miss it this year, but Draco must attend since he's the heir of House Malfoy-"

"-and his mother would skin him alive if he missed it."

Harry chuckled.

Yes, he could see it happening. From what he's observed of Narcissa Malfoy, she was a perfect pureblood lady, though and through, at least when in public. Hell, she remained composed and gracious when he cursed her husband. That alone spoke of someone you wouldn't want to mess with.

"So you want me to come?" Harry asked, because surely, Lucius Malfoy would rather befriend a Weasley than agree to invite him to his own Ball after what Harry's done. "After what transpired last time?"

Draco paled slightly, eyes widening at the reminder of what Harry's done to his father, but nodded anyway.

“I’m- I’m sure they wouldn’t mind…”

Harry sighed, ready to tell Draco that it’s better if he doesn’t go, when a brilliant thought crossed his mind. He grinned like a loon.

“Well then, I’m sure we’ll have a splendid evening then.”

For some reason, his yearmates shared an uneasy look at what certainly was impending doom.

“Let’s go get my snake.”

Harry narrowly missed Ginny, who stood up from the Gryffindor table the same moment he did. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t know the castle as well as he did, and they were able to slip away.

Nobody even batted an eye when Harry entered the Slytherin common room. He might as well be one of them with how much time he spends here.

“ Massster… you came for me.”

Harry scooped up his wandering serpent. “ Of course. What happened the other day? Were you caught?”

“No, Master. Loki is smart. Once the weird-eyed man spotted me, I used one of yours as an escape.”

“Good thinking, my dear. Did you learn anything about the man?”

“The man snoops around almost as much as you do, Master,” the snake hissed while Harry pursed his lips in not-so-subtle displeasure. He was certain this was an insult. “ He acts weird and I saw him following one of the Ministry men.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“No, but I could tell if I saw him again.”

“Anything else?”

“No, Master.”

“And did you like it here?” Harry smirked. “Did Draco treat you well?”

“The summer boy gave me loads of pets and prey to feed on… you should keep him, Master.”

Harry snorted.

Keep Draco. Yes, that would go overly well.

“Is… everything alright?” asked Draco from the doorway, needlessly worried and fidgety.

“My snake told me to keep you, because you spoil him.” Harry shot the boy a grin. “ You can stay here if you so wish, Loki. Today is the Ball, and I doubt you want to be out in the cold needlessly.”

“Sounds good, Master. And later, the summer boy can give me more pets.”

Merlin. Trust Draco to spoil his only snake.

He should probably get another one, if this one decides that Malfoys are better.

Traitor.

“Is it alright if Loki stays here? I think he likes you better than me these days.”

“Of course,” Draco answered immediately, and Harry was pleasantly surprised he didn’t look uncomfortable at all. Most people still shied away from Loki, even after being around him. Draco did too, at first, but now he seemed to preen just as much as his snake at the mutual attention. “He can stay here however long he needs. 

Loki preened at that, receiving a glare from Harry.

“ Traitor.”

“I’d never betray you, Master. But summer boy gives better scratches.”

“Merlin, help me.” He never thought snakes would be so bloody dramatic, but he should’ve known. The signs were all there; just look at slytherins! Their house symbol was a snake, and there must’ve been a reason it was chosen as one. It made so much sense now.

“Are you certain you want me to attend the Malfoy Yule Ball, Draco?” he asked, because it didn’t make any sense. Why would Draco invite him, out of all people? Even if others didn’t want to go?

It was a bizarre concept.

“Yes. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind-mingling with important people. You know. Networking.” 

Harry groaned internally.

More networking. More people ogling him, like a shiny new toy they can use.

Just great.

“Yes. Something we’re also going to do today .”

“You received the robes, right?” 

“Yeah, they’re in-” oh no, “they’re in my dorm.”

Harry didn’t want to go there. Not today.

He’d be ambushed and probably force-fed amortentia by the Weaslette and then probably forced into those horrid robes Ron received.

Draco immediately straightened up. “Well, you are not going there alone. They’d probably smother you and Weaslette would force-feed you love potion. I am coming with you.”

A reluctant smile finds a way on Harry’s face.

“Why Draco, didn’t know you cared.”

“Shut up and let’s go, Potter. We don’t have all day.”

Taking a Malfoy to a Gryffindor tower wasn’t his brightest idea, but nobody would deny Harry’s penchant for chaos.

He probably could’ve (and should’ve) used his invisibility cloak, but with so many students milling around it wasn’t practical and he didn’t want Draco to know about it quite yet.

Students’ reactions as he dragged the boy through the halls were hilarious, but nobody dared to approach him after being on the receiving end of Harry’s withering glares. Even the Fat Lady didn’t protest a slytherin entering the Gryffindor tower, most likely due to drinking too much wine and not giving enough fucks today.

Or perhaps she didn’t fancy dealing with whiny teenagers who wanted to prepare for the Ball with their friends.

Either way, their entrance was met with immediate and deafening silence, before the room exploded:

“That’s a Malfoy!”

“What is a slytherin doing here?!”

“Is it not enough you sit with them, but you bring them here too, Potter?”

Harry simply awarded them with a very unimpressed look, and pointed at the sofa. “That’s a ravenclaw right there,” he said, annoyed at their duplicity. “And I’m pretty sure there are two hufflepuffs hiding behind you three,” he said to the sixth years. “How very hypocritical of you.”

“There’s so much red in here it’s blinding,” Draco said derisively, before the gryffindors could even react to what Harry said, furrowing his nose in disgust. “No wonder you went insane.”

Harry snorted and shot Draco a wink. He may prefer the green and definitely more calm Slytherin common room atmosphere, but the red fit perfectly with the Gryffindor’s explosiveness and constant buzz. 

“Come, Draco,” Harry nudged the boy, pointedly glaring at everyone who looked about to say something. He was not going to deal with their shit today, and if he had to, Harry had no qualms about cursing them. “Fuck off and mind your own bloody business,” he added to those who had too much of the Gryffindor bravery in them to speak up.

They left the common room quickly and went up the stairs to Harry’s dormity.

Draco stayed quiet behind him, but Harry was pleased to note that the boy was keenly observing his surroundings. How could he not, when in the enemy’s territory?

Screeching met them the moment Harry opened the door.

“Ha- what is Malfoy doing here?! ”

Harry pointedly ignored the screeching ginger and a wand pointed at him, confident that with Ron’s non-skills he’d be able to protect him and Draco against any spells thrown their way, and went directly for his trunk.

“This room is so small.” Draco furrowed his nose as he, too, ignored Weasley. “Can’t believe McGonagall forced all five of you to live in one room.”

“Shut up, Malfoy!” Ron screamed again, wand pointed at the slytherin. “Get out of our dorm!” Then he turned his ire onto Harry. “And you! A bloody traitor, eh? It’s not enough you talk to those slimy snakes, but now you want to bring them here! What’s wrong with you?!”

Harry grabbed the package with his robes and pocketed a few potion vials for emergencies. In a moment of brilliance, he decided to lock his trunk with a few nasty curses he learned the other day, just in case someone tries to snoop.

As Harry continued to ignore Ron’s remarks, that seemed to enrage the boy even more; Harry felt magic disturbing the air and quickly shot a wandless protego .

Ron’s tripping jinx disintegrated into nothing, and a quite furious Harry stood up to face his once-friend. 

Draco already had a wand pointed at him.

Good. 

“Could you not take a hint that neither one of us is speaking to you, Weasley?” Harry asked coldly. “And I believe the whole school knows that the only traitor here is you. You who ignored me and dumped me because of your own jealousy and sheer idiocy to see the truth. Well, I found new friends and you aren’t included.”

To Harry’s surprise, Ron took this as a chance to be angry at Draco.

“It’s all your fault!” he spat, face angry red and almost matching the colour of his curtains. “You poisoned him with your lies and your dark- dark curses and whatnot!”

“How eloquent, Weasley,” Draco drawled in a completely bored tone. “Are you ready to go? All this red is starting to give me a headache.”

Harry snorted. “Of course, I have all that I need.”

Ron’s eyes wandered to the package in Harry’s hands.

“What’s that?” he asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

“My dress-robes.” Harry rolled his eyes. He was tempted to say something as ridiculous as ‘ingredients for my necromancy practice’, but Ron would probably believe that and report it to Dumbledore. “Do you expect me to go naked to the Ball?”

Ron spluttered. “Then you need to get ready here! How else will Ginny find you?!”

Harry stopped Draco from taunting Ron and offered what he hoped to be a genuine smile. “I’ll be at the Hall with everyone else. Let’s go, Draco.”

The slytherin thankfully kept quiet until they left the Gryffindor tower altogether - ignoring skewed looks from everyone else.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Draco asked. “He would’ve been so mad .”

Harry’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Why, because I want them to lose their shit in front of everyone, Dray. It’s that much more entertaining with an audience and they might even get a detention out of it.”

Draco couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re evil, Potter. Absolutely, truly evil.”

The day went by far too quickly, for Harry's eternal annoyance, and it was now time to get to the Hall.

The dress robes were the most fancy robes he's ever worn in his life, and were incredibly soft and comfortable.

It didn't even compare to the ones he got at Madam Malkins, not that they were bad, but this was another level.

No wonder slytherins insisted. They surely knew the best stuff.

And they were perfectionists too, seeing as Harry was quickly snatched up and forced to sit, while Pansy and Draco tried to tame his 'birdnest' to the best of their abilities, and still failed .

"I told you it won't work," Harry sing-sang at their frustrated huffs. "It's a Potter curse. No one shall tame the hair."

"This is ridiculous," Draco seemed incredibly miffed, glaring at the hair as if it personally offended him. Probably did too, considering the Malfoy pride and Draco getting whatever he wants.

"Just leave it be," Harry wasn't bothered. He'd lived with this hair his whole life and knew very well that nothing could be done. His hair had a mind of its own. "We should get going anyway. Wouldn't want to miss the spectacle."

Draco smirked, "Of course not."

"You look dashing, 'Arry," Pierre took Harry's hand and placed a chaste kiss, making Harry's cheeks flame red.

"Not so bad yourself, Pierre," Harry shot back, not even having to lie. The boy looked handsome. "Shall we go?"

"Of course."

They approached the Great Hall, where students were cluttering the entrance while trying to get in.

"Champions! Champions come here!" McGonagall's voice boomed through the hall, and Harry bemoaned his luck. But it wasn’t so bad with Pierre at his side, who clearly didn’t mind the attention he was getting and without knowing, deterred quite a few people from approaching Harry. To which he was eternally grateful. 

McGonagall, not so much, it seemed.

"Where is Miss Weasley, Mr Potter?" she asked immediately, eyeing Pierre sharply.

"How am I supposed to know?"

McGonagall frowned. "As her date, Mr Potter, it's your responsibility-"

"Excuse me, professor," Harry held out his hand to stop the chastising he was about to get. "Pierre," he pointed at the boy, " is my date. I have no idea what Ginevra has anything to do with it."

McGonagall pursed her lips in displeasure. "That's not what I've heard, Mr Potter. In fact, Miss Weasley is waiting for you-"

"I don't care," Harry snapped, whatever air of politeness he had before, gone. "It's not my problem you believe gossip, professor, and Wealsey isn't my problem either. Shouldn't have spread lies if she didn't want to be left stranded."

Professor gasped. "How dare you-"

"That's enough, Minerva," silky voice cut her off.

Harry thanked whatever gods that sent Snape to his rescue and almost a certain detention. 

"Everyone knows that Miss Weasley is a liar, Minerva. I've known that Mr Potter’s date is Mr Beumont as well, so your accusations are highly unfounded."

McGonagall huffed. "Either way, it's only polite-"

"What?" Harry snarled. "That I leave my date stranded only to humour Weaslette? I'm sick of her stalking, professor, and wouldn't touch that bint with a ten foot pole!"

The corridor was dead silent and Harry belatedly realised that everyone was listening. 

Just wonderful. He might as well make the most of it and enrich Hogwarts gossip-mill with something juicy.

"I don't know why you're trying to push her onto me, professor, but it's bloody creepy. And quite frankly, my friend and date choices are none of your concern. Now excuse me while I introduce my actual date to my friends."

Harry grabbed Pierre by the arm and pulled him towards his slytherins, leaving a gaping McGonagall behind.

Soon after, the hall exploded into gossip.

"Leave the boy alone, Minerva," Severus hissed once he saw the witch open her mouth to object once more. "And what are you doing, pushing that insufferable girl onto Mr Potter?"

"They were supposed to go together! Poor girl was so excited!"

"It's not Mr Potter's problem that Miss Weasley is delusional. Listening to gossip, Minerva, truly.” Snape shook his head, hoping that the witch would catch on and stop this insanity at once. “Even I knew that he was taking Mr Beaumont, so your accusations are completely unfounded.”

McGonagall pursed her lips in clear displeasure as she watched Harry having a lively chat with slytherins. She was incredibly sad that Harry still refused to speak with his Gryffindor friends, choosing company of those of the Darker families.

Such a shame.

“Well.” McGonagall composed herself and turned her glare at the students. “To the Great Hall you lot! The Ball is about to begin! Chop-chop!” she clapped her hands and students started rushing inside. “Not so fast, Mr Potter. You and the other champions will come in last.”

Of course, Harry sighed. They’re the main attraction tonight.

McGonagall rushed them into a line, and Harry took a moment to see who other champions had brought as their dates.

Diggory was with Cho Chang, who was practically glowing with happiness and couldn’t pull her eyes off her date, which was understandable; Diggory surely cleaned up nicely. 

Fleur, of course, had Roger Davies by her side, and even now they still were engrossed deep in discussion. Harry wondered if they’d end up dating. It was highly plausible, since Davies was one of a few students who didn’t swoon the moment Fleur looked their way, and more times than not they could be found discussing magical theories.

But Krum… now that’s a sight Harry didn’t think he’d see.

The Dursmstrang student came last, and he had no one else but Hermione bloody Granger by his side.

Harry was completely baffled on how this could’ve happened.

Krum was… well, Harry barely exchanged a few words with the boy, but how in hell did he manage to get Granger as his date, was beyond him.

And why?

“Line up, tidy up, and prepare. You will be going in the next few minutes!” McGonagall shouted, and then left them to scold and usher the last few late students inside. 

And then Granger noticed him, her expression going from surprise, especially as she noticed his attire, then shock, once she saw Pierre by his side, to fury.

“Who’s that?!” she hissed at him, pointing at his date. “Where’s Ginny?!”

Harry made an appropriately confused face. “That’s my date, Granger,” he nodded to Pierre, noting the confused looks of the other champions. “And I have no idea where you keep your blood-traitor friends.”

Her face turned an angry shade of red, and she was about to snap at him, when Fleur chimed in:

“Ah, don’t you two look dashing!” Fleur cooed at them, fully aware of what she was doing - and who she was annoying. Never let him say that veelas weren’t vicious and vindictive creatures.

“Nothing compared to your beauty, Miss Delacour,” Harry bowed, and as a true gentleman, courteously placed a kiss on her knuckles. Fleur giggled, while Davies shot a mocking glare and pulled Fleur closer to him.

“Don’t go seducing other people’s date’s, Potter,” he glared half-heartedly, well aware that Harry had no real interest in Fleur. “Worry about your own date.”

“Aw, are you feeling left out, Pierre, dear?” Harry grinned at the boy. “So sorry-” he reached for the boy’s hand, when all of a sudden, it was violently yanked away. 

His first instinct was to punch or zap whoever did it, but Hermione beat him to it by screaming:

“Stop this at once! You and- and him !” she pointed at Pierre. “It’s unnatural! You’re supposed to take Ginny!”

“Unnatural?” Fleur’s face was no longer glowing with delight; rather transformed into something dangerous, and specifically veela , that’s about to attack.

Oh boy.

“Yes!” Hermione hissed, somehow not noticing the glares of everyone else. “Two boys are- are- an abomination!”

Now she’s done it.

Harry didn’t even have to do anything, as the other champions and their dates became furious on their behalf. Even Krum shied away from her, most likely realising what kind of nut job he’s invited along.

“You dare-” Fleur hissed, trying to control her rising temper. “Clearly, you’re one of those of sang de boue- ”

At that moment, Harry was harshly reminded of his own inadequacy of speaking French and Hermione’s ability to do so, as her face turned an angry shade of red at whatever was said.

“Keep your disgraceful muggle opinions from the appropriate company, Granger,” Davies spoke up, his expression unchanging from the ever-present boredom, but even then there was a dangerous undertone. “No one wants to hear it.”

“But-”

“And I don’t know why you keep pushing your friend onto Harry,” Pierre was insulted too. Harry was surprised to see such coldness emitting from him, but at the same time, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Hermione just called the son of one of the French Ministers an abomination. He could almost hear my father will hear about this . “It’s clear he’s not interested, and besides-”

“It’s time! Champions, let’s go!” McGonagall’s voice boomed, and they were off, argument forgotten. At least for now, because Harry doubted the others would forgive such a slight easily.

Harry straightened his posture and made sure that his face didn’t betray his murderous emotions. Wouldn’t do well if someone caught that on film, after all.

The door opened and Harry was taken aback by the beauty of the Great Hall; it looked like a magical winter wonderland taken straight out of a fairy tale, and it took everything in Harry not to stop and stare at the extravagance like a loon. At that moment, he was glad for Pierre and his leading hand.

“-and now the champions will start the leading dance!”

Well, here goes nothing.

Harry tried very hard to relax: he knew the steps - they were instinctual by now - but he still felt wrong-footed, even though he didn't show it. Harry even tried to fall into the same trance he had when dancing with Tom, but Pierre's arms on his waist felt wrong. His movements were confident, but not as graceful as Tom's.

But Riddle seemed to be the epitome of all things graceful and perfect; how could anyone else even dare to compete with him? A future Dark Lord?

"You're a great dancer," Pierre complimented, smiling at Harry as they whirled around the dance floor. 

Harry could bet his entire trust vault that this isn't Pierre's first Ball or even his first dance. How could it be, considering who the boy's parents are? He probably attended dozens of these before, just like most pureblood children. His own skills didn’t even compare.

"You're not so bad yourself," Harry offered him a smirk in return, ignoring his instinct to curse the person who's camera's flash just took their picture.

Better not be Creevy.

Pierre opened his mouth to reply when just then there was a loud bang and an ear-piercing screech permeated the air.

The music stopped to a halt and everyone froze, turning to see what was going. Were they under attack?

And there she was.

Ginevra Weasley.

She wore a very simple pink dress that clashed with her hair and was clearly rumpled in a few places, and didn’t particularly fit with the Ball’s extravagant theme, but her furious expression overshadowed her poor attire choices; Ginny was spitting mad.

In fact, Harry’s never seen her like this before, even though it felt incredibly satisfying, that it was because of him .

Making people mad might become his favourite hobby at this rate. Right along with making new nemeses.

“YOU!” Ginny screamed, ignoring the incredulous looks being shot her way, as she pointed at Harry. “You left me stranded! And you dare to- to dance with- with him ?!” she then pointed at Pierre, who looked incredibly confused, even though clearly, he knew who that was, and asked loudly :

“Who’s that, ‘Arry? The stalker?”

Oh, his date was devious.

Harry could barely hold in his own laughter, but slytherins had no such preservations and started cackling, loudly, in a dead silent hall.

“Why, yes, it is,” Harry answered, just to see Ginny’s reaction. He also shot her a mocking, yet challenging look, knowing that a hothead gryffindor would not back down from it and attack.

He was not disappointed.

“I’M NOT A STALKER, I’M YOUR DATE!”

Harry frowned. “You must be confusing me with someone else, Weasley. Everyone knows Pierre asked me weeks ago, and you and I aren’t even on speaking terms. Why would I ever take you? Perhaps a visit to a mind healer would help?”

The snickering got louder, and only now Ginny seemed to realize people were laughing at her .

In her fury, she seemed to have forgotten all sense and pulled out her wand, pointing it at Pierre.

“You stole him from me and you will pay!” Ginny screeched and sent out a curse.

Harry flicked his wrist and a wandless protego appeared in front of both of them, dissolving the spell immediately.

Harry tsked. “That was pathetic,” he said loudly enough to erect another bout of laughter, but it was overshadowed by wide eyes, horrified gasps, and worshipful looks.

Harry didn’t miss yet another flash of camera either. He was certain this thing will be on the front pages tomorrow.

Ginny lifted her wand again, but seemingly one of the professors regained a sense of… their job, apparently.

“A hundred points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley, and a month of detention,” Snape’s voice snapped her out of whatever daze she was in, her face palling.

“That’s not fair-”

“Enough, Miss Weasley,” McGonagall came storming right in, furious, and seemingly finally realizing that Snape was right. How horrifying it must be. “You’ve done enough. Go back to your dorm immediately.”

“But-”

“ Now !”

Harry couldn’t stop himself from smirking. He knew there would be a blow-out; he just didn’t know it’d be that satisfying or public.

“Let the dance continue! Music !” McGonagall clapped and music started up again.

And so did the gossip.

“Shall we continue the dance?” Pierre asked, and Harry turned back to see worried eyes peering down at him. He nodded.

“That was an impressive shield.”

“Well, I wasn’t about to let her curse you,” Harry smirked. “But thank you.”

“What’s her deal anyway?”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said stalker, Pierre. From what I gathered, she believed she would be attending the Ball with me? And don’t you dare feel sorry for her or her mental state; she’d have force-fed me love potion, if I hadn’t been careful.”

“What?” Pierre’s light-hearted tone changed immediately, and for the first time Harry saw the fierceness behind those blue eyes. 

Ah, Pierre had spice, after all.

“Oh, yes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to fake a marriage contract. Thank Merlin they cannot.”

Pierre, seemingly unconsciously, squeezed his hand to painful levels, and Harry was once again shocked to see actual anger and worry in those eyes.

Huh.

That’s an unexpected development.

“Relax,” he said, sending a calm wave of magic to the boy. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Something like determination settled over his face. “I will speak to my father. After all, she attacked me .”

A smile spread over Harry’s face.

He could just see words like ‘international incident’ or ‘ Weasley attacks son of a French Ministry official ’ on front pages tomorrow morning.

Weasleys wouldn’t stand a chance in court if Pierre decided to do something about it.

How wonderfully Slytherin move.

“May I have this dance?”

Harry turned to see Draco waiting courteously for an answer. His eyebrows shot up.

“Of course. He’s all yours.” Pierre let go of him, bowing. “I’ll see you later, Harry.”

Harry nodded and turned to the blond, raising his eyebrow in question. “Did your toes miss me?”

Draco rolled his eyes, not dignifying him with a snort. “Please. I know well enough that you will not dare to make a mistake after that grovelling practice.” His eyes sharpened. “You wouldn’t.”

Harry simply smirked and stayed quiet, causing Draco to falter in his step with uncertainty, which only earned him another glare.

“I hoped you liked the spectacle,” Harry decided to placate his friend a bit. Moody Draco wasn’t a good company.

The boy instantly brightened. “It was epic. I’m saving this memory forever. I thought she’d murder you, and that’s not to say what Weasly or Granger will do to you after this stunt.”

“Oh?”

“I think Granger would’ve attacked you too, but Krum literally didn’t let go of her hand, and then pulled her away from you.”

That must’ve been hilarious. Harry completely forgot about her.

“And how come Krum took Granger?! That was completely unexpected.”

Harry would’ve shrugged, if they weren’t in the middle of a dance. “No clue. They showed up last and we barely had time to trade insults. Although, she was incredibly miffed that my date was Pierre.”

“Of course she would be. Krum is most likely oblivious to everything. He barely speaks to anyone.”

“Even you?” Harry couldn’t help but bite. He knew Draco had moon-eyes for the bulgarian. Many students did, but it became clear early on that Krum detested any sort of attention and had trouble with English. Or at least pretended in order to be left alone.

Harry knew how that felt.

“Oy!” Draco squeezed his hand, painfully, clearly miffed. “Nobody avoids Malfoys.”

“Oh? Is that a new rule or- okay, okay, sorry,” Harry grinned at Draco’s expression. Merlin, it was so easy to tease him.

“You ruined the song.”

“Impossible. It was made for me.”

“Sure it was. You dance worse than a-”

“Careful here, Draco, or you’ll insult your own teaching skills.”

The boy instantly shut up. “I’m a terrific teacher. You’re just a terrible student.”

“But are you complaining?” Harry grinned, knowing he had won.

“Come on, ladies. It’s time to share the latest gossip.” Blaise walked up to drag them away from the dance floor, almost bouncy with excitement. “And if you look to your left, you’ll see a lonely Weasel in the wild.”

Harry’s head snapped to the side, and indeed, Ron was sitting alone, glaring at them.

“He came with Parvati Patil, but Merlin, was he terrible. I saw Patil shooting healing spells at her feet after their dance, and she’s been off ever since,” Blaise prattled on. “And that’s not to say his reaction to the earlier scene, or those robes. ”

“Where’s your date, Blaise?” Harry asked, eyeing the punch that was handed to him with a healthy amount of suspicion. He had seen the Weasley twins earlier, and they were standing not far from the table. Smiling . 

That warranted suspicion, and he examined the punch.

“It’s probably spiked,” Blaise grinned. “The older years usually spike drinks.”

Better than pranked, surely, but Harry didn’t want to be sloshed either. He had no idea if he had any tolerance for alcohol, and making himself a fool wasn’t an option. Not so out in the open.

He vanished his glass, and leaned closer to the table.

“A glass of cranberry juice, if you will.”

“Are- are you talking to a table?” Draco asked, staring at him blankly.

“Yes.”

The next moment, a glass of juice popped right in front of Harry, and he said a silent thank you.

“How in Merlin’s name did you do that?” Blaise gaped at him.

Harry shrugged. “House elves are always listening. You just have to ask.”

The slytherins shared a look of exasperation. They truly shouldn’t be surprised.

"May I have a dance with you?"

Perhaps if Harry had less pride and stepped on Pierre purposefully, he wouldn't be asked to dance again.

It's not that it was horrible, but more like he couldn't relax and always had to be on guard. Just in case. People were unpredictable and Harry’s been making enemies left and right, and middle this year.

“Of course,” Harry smiled at Cassius, noting just how pleased the boy seemed to be that Harry agreed, and allowed himself to be led back onto the dance floor.

Harry was also keenly aware of all the looks he was getting; eyes following his every step. He could almost feel the gossip today will undoubtedly bring.

“I must admit, I didn’t think you’d agree to a dance,” Cassius admitted. “You looked beyond relieved to finish that last dance.”

“Then why would you prolong this madness, Cassius dear? I didn’t take you for a sadist.”

The boy winced, almost faltering in step.

“Well, if you don’t-”

“Relax,” Harry muttered, offering up a smirk. “Consider this a payment for getting my snake to safety.”

“Oh? I shall endeavour to do that more often.”

Harry chuckled. “Better not.” Then frowned. “What did Moody want with you?”

And Merlin, who would’ve thought that the ballroom floor would be such a wonderful place for conversations? Not Harry.

“He… I’d say he’s weird, but, well… It's Mad Eyed Moody. He’s supposed to be not-all-there, you know?” Harry nodded. He’s heard Moody’s backstory before. Paranoid from hunting dark wizards, seeing evil everywhere. “Well, he’s been observing us much more closely than the rest. Us, slytherins.”

“Ah, looking for potential future victims?”

Cassius nodded. “Probably. I’m sure you’re well aware of what slytherins are thought of in this school, of the stigma.” Harry winced. He did, very personally. Ron alone was the biggest bigot of them all. One of the first things the boy said to him was that slytherins were evil, long before getting to school.

That sort of hate could only stem from years of prejudice, of hearing such bullshit spewn in his near vicinity, all the time.

It left an ugly imprint of zero critical thinking.

“Well, and Moody… we’re kind of used to him spewing back our relatives wrong doings, but he’s been even weirder as of late. From around the time the first task took place, now that I think about it.” Cassius frowned, lost in thought. “He’s more observant. He’s also way less harsh to slytherins, but… he’s been watching you a lot. I’ve noticed this at dinners. And during that farce of a detention, he asked me about you.”

Harry faltered.

Was Dumbledore using Moody to spy on him, now that his little band of gryffindors weren’t around to do the job properly?

“What did he ask?”

Cassius snorted. “Well, at first he just did his usual paranoid ramblings, but then… sometimes he gets weirdly focused, yeah? He threatened Slytherin as a whole for corrupting you, said that he’s watching us . Then implied that you’re spending too much time with dark wizards, and that we should watch you. Even asked what I think of you. It was bizarre.”

“Hm…” Harry was thoughtful. Moody sounded unhinged. Or was it all an act? He did seem weirdly insistent to help him before, but had fucked off since the first task. Although… Harry felt that damned eye on him quite a few times, especially during meal times. Sometimes in seemingly empty hallways. “And what have you told that old geezer about me, Cassius?”

The boy smirked. “I told him that you’re a brilliant boy, Harry, but if he wants some sort of intel, he can fuck right off. We, slytherins, stand together. United front, if you will. I think Salazar himself would strike us down if we betrayed a parselmouth to Dumbledore’s personal lackey.”

Harry was exceptionally pleased with this.

Cassius was turning out to be a wonderful… acquaintance. Harry wouldn’t go as far as to call them friends, but the boy reminded him of a slytherin version of Weasley twins. 

“Thank you, Cassius. I won’t forget this.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Harry.” His smile was soft. “Ever since you dropped your gryffindor persona, our lives have become much more interesting. Hell, even the Weasley demons leave us alone, for the most part! That alone is a miracle.”

Harry couldn’t contain a smirk. “Glad to be of service. Just leave the punch alone. Demonic influence, you see.”

“Ah. Of course.”

Harry was surprised that they danced through two songs, but considering the information he gained? It was well worth it.

Except now he was becoming hungry.

He hoped dinner would be served soon. His poor legs couldn’t dare to hold him for another half a dozen dances.

“Oh, Harry!”

“Evening, Percy. Surprised to see you here.”

The boy beamed with pride. “I’m here with Mr Crouch, I’m his assistant.”

“Crouch, you say?” Harry eyed the man, who was lively, speaking with a clearly uninterested Dumbledore. “I see. How do you like the Ministry job so far?”

The boy was shocked that Harry asked him a question, when they’d barely exchanged a word before, but was more than happy to share:

“It’s… hard. But wonderful! Needs a lot of dedication and precision to detail. Mr Crouch isn’t… the most patient man, you see. He doesn’t like mistakes. He’s a very hard working man, was even going to be a Minister once! But… well, I’m really grateful to be working with him.”

Sure he was.

Percy looked about, ready to jump out of his skin. Constantly eyeing Crouch, like a loyal dog just waiting for a command, yet afraid to mutter anything negative.

“I see,” Harry said, and took a good look at Crouch himself.

He looked worse than the last time Harry saw him.

He was pale, dark circles under his eyes, looking like bruises, and he was jittery. Constantly looking around, as if waiting for someone to attack.

Harry wondered who the man crossed so badly to be so utterly terrified.

It made him slightly giddy too - Crouch certainly deserved it, since he was one of the people who didn’t object to him participating in this ridiculous death-trap.

Clearly, Crouch was seeking some of his previous glory.

“I must apologize, Harry,” Percy said suddenly, looking decidedly uncomfortable. 

Huh? “For what?”

“Ginny,” Weasley’s voice was a mere whisper. “I have no idea why she acted like that. It was inexcusable, and I believe I must apologize on her behalf.”

“No,” Harry’s tone was cold, and Percy visibly shrunk back. “She isn’t sorry for her actions, so why should you be?”

“I-”

“You are not your family, Percy. If you wish to apologize on their behalf, there’s nothing I can do about it, but then we’ll be here all night.”

That was a shock to the boy. After it passed, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, then looked at the people around them.

“Don’t tell me the twins are at-”

“No.”

“But… Ron?” Harry nodded. “I thought you were… friends?”

“Well, let’s just say your brother is more of a prejudiced, traitorous bastard than I’m comfortable with.”

Percy opened his mouth, then closed it again. It was interesting to see the resignation in his eyes, as if he knew this, but was willing to deny it as long as he could.

“Well, um…” Percy cleared his throat, shifting uneasily. “How are your studies going?”

Harry smirked. “Just perfect, Percy. All O’s.” Well, except for a few EE’s in history, but really, who cared enough to memorize all the bloody names and dates of goblin wars? Those classes were ridiculous and Harry made a mental note to look for ways to exorcise Binns. It’d be totally worth it.

Percy’s face, too, was worth it. 

He gaped .

How uncouth.

“Oh! Well, that was unexpected-” Harry’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Percy backpaddled: “-but impressive nonetheless! Congratulations, Harry. I’m glad to see you on the right path.”

“Thank yo-”

“There you are, ‘Arry.” Pierre approached him, eyeing Percy suspiciously. “And who’s your friend?”

“Percy Weasley, I work for the Ministry,” the boy said quickly. “And you are?”

“Pierre Beaumont. Pleasure.” Pierre was as charming as ever, but Harry noticed the weariness once Percy uttered his surname. He better not come to his ‘rescue’, because Harry wasn’t a bloody damsel in distress. But he knew Percy well enough to know the boy was about to prattle on about his own grades or job at the Ministry, and Harry really didn’t care. He wasn’t about to suffer through meaningless chit-chat; Percy wasn’t someone important enough to matter.

And if Harry had to suffer through meaningless platitudes, he’d rather do it with someone he could find useful. Someone like the Ministry officials.

“-‘Arry, I’d like you to meet someone.”

“Excuse us for a moment, Percy. It seems I have connections to make.”

“Of course. See you around.”

Harry inclined his head and left with Pierre.

“You’re a life saver,” Harry muttered, making the other boy chuckle.

“These Weasleys are out to get you, non?”

“In more than one way, it seems,” Harry grumbled. Percy could bore someone to death. “Who did you want me to meet?”

“Ah, the French Minister of Magical Games and Sports. He can be a little...  excentrique , but don’t mind him.”

Well, it couldn’t hurt to know him, Harry supposed. He better not be as wacky as his British equivalent though; Ludo Bagman still ran the opposite way once Harry came into the vicinity. It was immensely satisfying, even though just as pathetic, how a grown man was terrified of a teenager.

Really, the British Ministry needed a wake-up call.

“Ah, Pierre, who do we have here?” a man twice Harry’s height, with brilliant blue eyes and a moustache greeted them, but Harry could barely peel his eyes away from the bright orange robes. Merlin, the man looked like a walking Hufflepuff banter. Why ?

“Harry Potter, sir. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. 

The man laughed, throwing his head back as if Harry had said something funny. He didn’t know whether to be insulted or not.

“Ah, such manners, non ? No need, Mr Potter, we’re all just friends here.”

Harry couldn’t disagree more. He was in a room full of sharks just waiting to spill blood. Luckily, he was one of them.

“Of course,” he smiled indulgently, wondering if this man was an idiot or just pretending to be one.

“You clearly know how to pick them, Pierre.” Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Wonderful job you did on the first task, Mr Potter. Phenomenal, really. I cannot wait to see how you’ll do during the second task.”

“My best, of course, Minister,” Harry answered easily, annoyed that the man was still yet to introduce himself. It’s not like Harry cared enough to familiarise himself with foreign Ministers' names; hell, he barely kept track of his own!

The wizard laughed again, eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure, I’m sure. And oh, not to be rude, but… who was the girl that attacked you earlier? Dumbledore assured everyone it was just a misunderstanding-” Harry’s eye twitched, “-but it seemed more than that.”

So the gossip mill runs above student level as well. Well, who is Harry, if not the one to fuel the fire?

“I’m afraid it was not a misunderstanding, Minister,” Harry morphed his face into one of deep worry and disappointment. “She’s obsessed with me and has been stalking me since coming to Hogwarts. I’m afraid it’s only gotten worse, and she fabricated these delusions that we are… dating, I suppose? I’m not sure, I haven’t spoken to her more than saying hello in passing. It’s deeply troubling.”

Surprisingly, the man looked troubled, too. His eyes trailed to Dumbledore, a calculating look in his eyes Harry didn’t think him capable of.

“Why aren’t professors interfering?”

Good question. I mean, it’s their fucking job .

“One even tried to force Harry to go with the girl,” Pierre added his input. “It’s bizarre.”

“That’s completely inappropriate,” the man hissed angrily. “And don’t think I’ll be keeping quiet about what happened, Pierre; in fact, it’s best you tell your father yourself, before he sees it in the papers.”

The boy nodded dejectedly. And Harry could barely contain his glee: his predictions about a possible international scandal were becoming a reality. Truly, he should start teaching Divination with these sorts of skills.

“I believe I must speak about this with my colleagues. Have a wonderful night, boys.” The wizard grinned at them and strutted off, leaving gleeful Harry behind.

Ah, did he just stir a hornet's nest?

It seemed like it.

“He’s a family friend,” Pierre felt a need to explain. “Surprised he didn’t ask you about quidditch; must’ve been pretty distracted. The man is obsessed with that game.”

Harry was glad he didn’t. While he liked to play and enjoyed flying to obsessive levels - according to Tom anyway - he had every intention of not playing for Gryffindor next year. They can eat shit after the generous show of ‘ loyalty’ he received this year.

He didn’t need to play quidditch to fly.

Huh, perhaps he should challenge Draco to a seeker game, just to see him lose. That would be highly amusing.

Speaking of Draco…

Harry looked around, looking for a painfully immaculate mop of blond hair, and spotted him almost immediately; the boy was conversing with some Ministry official.

Of course he would.

“Let’s go mingle, shall we?” he said to Pierre, and dragged the boy towards Draco.

If he had to network, it didn’t mean he had to do it alone.

Harry lost count of how many people he’d spoken to, and that was saying a lot.

Teaming up Draco and Pierre was a monumental mistake, because once they laid eyes upon each other, some sort of contest started between the two.

It started with a glare, and Harry didn’t miss the challenge in either of their eyes. After that?

It was like Harry was a fucking toy they couldn’t share.

Both of them dragged Harry from one person, to another, introducing him to someone important, and they kept trying to do one over each other.

Harry had no idea what this was about. Why were they competing to who introduced more important people to Harry?

Why did they even think Harry cared?

It would’ve been amusing, if Harry himself wasn’t the collateral. In the end, he was ready to skin them alive.

It was a blessing in disguise when Dumbledore called everyone to take seats; dinner was ready.

He didn’t even wait; he just bolted to his seemingly assigned seat, praying for some silence.

Unfortunately, Pierre was seated next to him, looking smug. He wouldn’t be so smug if he knew the tortures Harry had in mind for him, would he?

Next to him sat Fleur with Davies. The other two champions and their dates were seated in front of them, which was a horrible idea, considering the looks Granger kept sending him.

Harry doubted she’d cause a scene, but you never know these days. Just look at Ginny. This was a recipe for disaster.

However, Harry would be a liar if he said it wasn’t funny watching Hermione glare at him and still pretend to be a pleasant person in front of others at the same time. It simply came out as a grimace.

As surprising as it may be, she was still with Krum, who was content chatting with his own friends in Bulgarian, sometimes including Granger, but almost every time he did she’d try to correct his pronunciation. How could she not see how annoying it was? They didn’t come here to learn another language, for fucks sake.

He bet Krum was regretting taking her now, if the looks Krum’s friends kept sending them were any indication. Harry should really learn a translation charm, so he’d know what was being said.

The dinner started, and Harry happily ordered his meal. The elves had outdone themselves this year.

“This is inhumane!” Hermione started ranting, looking at their meals in disgust. “You’re all ordering meals from slaves and you don’t care!”

Oh no.

Not this again.

Harry learned to ignore Granger’s spiel of SPEW. It was ridiculous and just showed how little she knew of the little creatures who depended on having a bond with a wizard to survive. They’d go insane otherwise.

But from her muggle perspective, she could only see creatures forced into unpaid labour. Harry could see where she was coming from, but he also knew she was horribly wrong.

“What are you talking about?” it was Cedric who asked, looking just as confused as the rest of them.

“House elves!” she hissed. “They’re slaves! They’re not being paid, they’re forced to work - it’s wrong! They should be free .”

Silence reigned.

Harry wished he would’ve obliviated the whole thing from Hermione’s head.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard someone say,” Davies said.

“Just shows how ignorant the little girl is,” Fleur scoffed, turning away in a show this conversation was beneath her.

“You know I’m right, but you don’t want to admit it, because all of you are just as bad for keeping slaves,” Granger just couldn’t shut up, or read the room at all.

And here, Harry was hoping for a pleasant meal.

“Ah, your theory is simply ridiculous, little witch,” a man sitting closest to them said, and Harry recognized him as one of the ‘ my father’s coworkers at the Ministry’ Draco had introduced him to. …Greengrass, right? Daphne’s father or uncle?

“Excuse you?” Hermione bristled.

The man shook his head. “Tut-tut. How impolite.”

“Pardon her insolence, Lord Greengrass,” Harry offered with a smile that said ‘ see what I  have to deal with?’ “Some people just don’t know how to act in polite company.”

The man shot him a devilish smirk. “Noteworthy observation, heir Potter. Alas, I will still generously provide an answer you cannot seem to fathom,” he said, looking at Granger, who looked ready to explode. “A house elf cannot live without a bond to a wizard. They are magical creatures, yes, and have their own magic, but without a wizard to anchor them, they’d go insane, wither and die. Serving us brings them joy. This is why freeing an elf brings them indescribable amounts of grief.”

“What about Dobby?” she asked, still angry. “He’s free and he’s happy.”

Harry completely forgot about that insane elf.

“Oh, please,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Dobby is an exception and most likely has been wacked in the head too many times. That elf is completely barmy.”

Everyone else seemed confused about who was this Dobby, but Greengrass had a knowing gleam in his eyes. The man must know who Dobby is.

Oh, how wonderful.

“It’s still not right,” Hermione didn’t let up.

“Elves aren’t humans. You can’t compare creatures to us. What else, you’ll demand goblins are given wands and sent to Hogwarts?”

Everyone at the table blanched. 

This was a monumentally horrible idea. It would definitely start a new war.

“You muggleborns think you can just come into our world and change it into your muggle one, instead of learning. How disgraceful,” Fleur outright sneered at Hermione, not even trying to hide her distaste. “Your ignorance is appalling, little girl. Perhaps you should pick up a book and learn.”

It took everything in Harry not to start laughing. 

Hermione Granger, the biggest bookworm in this school, was told to pick up a book and learn . This night was getting better and better.

And he didn’t even have to do anything.

“I am the brightest witch of my age! I do not need to learn some prejudiced views.”

“Brightest of your age?” Harry asked. “Funny. The results of this semester are already out, and your name was nowhere near the top of the list.”

“And whose is?” Davies asked, ready to fuel the fire Harry so eagerly started.

“Mine,” Harry announced proudly, because he was bloody proud. He could finally show his intelligence without being reprimanded for it. “Then it’s Draco, Daphne, Theodore, and only then, I believe, you Granger. Not so bright, are we?”

Her face turned scarlet in anger, or embarrassment, Harry couldn’t tell. It was satisfying either way.

Lord Greengrass seemed pleased at the mention of Daphne, and Harry was slightly aiming for that. It wouldn’t hurt to have the man’s favour. 

“ Un menteur, ” Fleur muttered, turning to Pierre and beckoning him closer. 

Harry wished he understood what the hell they were furiously whispering about in French, but alas, he assumed it was about Granger and just how fucking embarrassing this was.

So much for showing their best to the foreign students. So far, it has been one incident after another.

Pierre and Fleur silently agreed on something Harry clearly wasn’t privy to, and turned his attention to his meal. It stayed heavenly warm, due to the elves' magic, and Harry wondered what would they do if all the elves just called it quits, consequences be damned.

The world would burn, surely.

Because for one, he could never imagine someone like Draco Malfoy learning to cook.

The dinner was over quickly, since Granger stayed silent and didn’t cause any more disturbances.

Harry was done with the Ball and decided to head outside for some fresh air. Theodore decided to join him and thankfully didn’t bother with needless chattering.

Theo was special like that.

Harry was grateful.

“You don’t look too murder-y,” the boy observed him quietly. “Perhaps you’ll like the Malfoy Ball then. Of course, there will be more influential people you can terrorise, but I have a feeling you’ll like it.”

“Is that why you’re avoiding it like a plague?”

Theo shrugged. “I have an excuse not to attend this year, which I doubt will ever happen again. You take what you can get.”

As morbid as it sounded, being an orphan did have its perks, for example, no family breathing down your neck and forcing you into things you’d rather not do.

Harry was sure Tom would agree.

“Harry!” a voice boomed from somewhere behind, loud enough to startle him.

Oh no.

He turned to see Hagrid briskly walking towards him, leaving Madam Maxime behind.

How rude .

“Hello.”

“Hello?! That’s all yer have to say to me?” 

Harry shrugged. What was he supposed to do? Dance?

“I’m unsure of what you want from me.”

Harry felt Theodore come stand behind him - a silent support, and Draco was walking bristly towards them - Merlin forbid someone saw a pureblood do something as plebeian as run.

“You dropped my classes!” Hagrid bellowed. “You don’t visit, you don’t write! You pushed away your friends!” The man took a step forward. “It’s very unlike you, Harry, and completely unacceptable how you treat your friends. I’m very disappointed in you. Not to mention how you treated that poor girl, Ginny. You better apologise to her, no- to them, all at once. I will be writing to Molly and Arthur-”

“How dare you,” Draco spat, having heard enough from the distance. To Harry’s surprise, the boy was spitting mad. Not that he wasn’t, mind you, but he knew Hagrid to be Dumbledore's yes-man, and didn’t expect any critical thinking from the man himself. “Who Harry is friends with is none of your business, neither is his life. And quite frankly, Weasleys should be lucky that Harry's forgiving and hadn’t pressed charges against them, not to mention stalking .”

Forgiving . As if.

“It’s quite weird for a professor to demand a student to meet him at his house and write letters, too, no?” Theo spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention to him. And Merlin, with Theo preferring to stay in the shadows and simply observe, he’s forgotten the cruel streak the boy possessed.

Harry’s mistake. Won’t happen again.

“After all, for what purposes do you want Harry there? To continue harassing him about dropping the class he didn’t find useful, or is that something you normally do?”

Yep. Harry shouldn’t have underestimated Theo.

The innuendo was clear to all. Most likely Skeeter too, since Harry could feel her magical aura somewhere, but there was no one else around.

Bloody animagus.

“I- I-” Hagrid spluttered. “I just want to talk to ye about-”

“No, thank you.” Harry said and gracefully turned to leave, but Hagrid stepped to stop him.

“Yer not yerself! You need help!"

"I am perfectly fine, and I do not need a gamekeeper who's had one too many harassing me about my life choices!"

Harry wondered if this would be a direct quote in tomorrow's paper.

It's not like he was lying; Hagrid had a habit of going overboard with drinking, but he wasn't aggressive. So far. But until now Harry also never sided against him or Dumbledore, and he wouldn't be surprised if Hagrid would be used against him by the old coot. The man would never realize he was being manipulated.

It was sad, really, but nothing could be done.

"Have a good evening," Harry said cordially, before walking away, the slytherins high at his heels, leaving an almost wailing Hagrid behind, being supposedly comforted by Madam Maxime.

“Can you have one evening without drama, Potter?” Draco hissed. “I loathe to think who’ll try to attack you next.”

“I’d suggest Weasley as a candidate, but his brothers barely let him out of sight all night,” Theo added his input. “I was certain he’d try to jump you after you so expertly humiliated Weaslette.”

“Why, Theo, thank you.”

“And professor Snape was beyond furious. She’ll be scrubbing toilets with her own toothbrush at this rate.”

Harry wouldn’t be surprised - there’s no way Dumbledore will be able to weasel her out of punishment, not when everything happened so publicly.

“...is that Snape?”

Harry turned to where Theo was pointing, and he was right; in an enclosed private space behind the bushes, Snape was animatedly speaking with someone. He looked unhappy.

They walked closer, just to see who was souring their professor’s mood so much, when Karkaroff came into view.

Ah, it made sense now.

“Say what you will, Harry, but I’m not interrupting them,” Theo took a step back. “Snape would skin us alive. Especially if he thought we eavesdropped."

Draco was frantically nodding along.

“Well then, gentlemen, this is where we shall depart for the night,” Harry said pompously. “Because I have every intention to snoop.”

“Don’t complain about a two year detention tomorrow!” Theo chirped, happy to be going away from his head of the house.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

The slytherins departed after wishing him good night and with hopes that Harry would reconsider his suicidal intentions, but Harry simply cast a silencing charm on his feet and walked closer.

“-on’t act oblivious, Snape! You know it’s happening!”

“Oh, do I, now?”

“He’s coming back! Look!” Karkaroff pushed up his sleeve, exposing his Dark Mark for everyone to see. “He’s getting stronger. He will come for us!”

“For you, you mean?”

“The Dark Lor-”

“Pretty. Can I touch it?”

Two men froze, turning to look at Harry, who, seemingly, appeared out of nowhere, and was clearly staring at the Dark Mark, having heard most of the conversation, too.

Karkaroff yanked his sleeve down, face white. “You!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Of course, me . Who else am I if not myself?”

Harry saw Snape trying and failing to suppress a smirk.

“Does Hogwarts not teach privacy?”

“Does Durmstrang not teach subtlety?” Harry asked in return. “This isn’t a private space, Igor Karkaroff, and your secret conversation isn’t so secret.” Harry cocked his head to the side, staring at the man, unblinkingly, making the man nervous just because he could.

“Severus, control your unruly students,” the man hissed angrily, but Harry could tell a farce when he saw one.

“Ah, deflection ,” Harry smiled sweetly. “I guess lying to yourself is a must when time is running out.”

The man’s face paled drastically once he comperhanded Harry’s innuendo, and then reddened with fury.

“How dare you presume to know anything about me, boy?! And threatening? I’ll show you- ahh !” Karkaroff bent over with pain, fingers digging into his recently covered forearm.

“Tsk-tsk. So rude .” Harry tutted, wondering why Snape wasn’t intervening. “If I threatened you, Karkaroff, you’d know.” Harry increased the magic he was using to activate pain in the man’s arm momentarily, before letting go. “Besides, I have no need to threaten you myself. After all, traitors are at the top of the Dark Lord’s hit list. He’s not a very merciful man, you see.” Harry offered a smile that might look innocent to a bystander, but the sinister gleam was clear for Karkaroff to see. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine. You- what? Put most of his Inner Circle to Azkaban? And then became a headmaster, living the best life. I’m sure he’ll be excited to hear all you’ve done, Igor dear.”

The man’s face was void of any colour, eyes wide and filled with pure terror Harry’s never seen before.

It was like a rush, seeing such fear his words could inflict. Such terror .

He should do it more often.

“B-but, but-” Karkaroff stuttered, looking hopeful all of a sudden. Desperate, like a drowning man seeking air. “You’re Harry Potter, you’re a good boy, aren’t you? You’ll save us all if the Dark Lord returns, right? It’s your job . You’re the saviour .”

For a moment, Harry couldn’t believe those words. Karkaroff was grasping at straws, looking for any sort of salvation.

Willing to drown everyone to ensure his own survival.

Pathetic.

And insulting, to ask a teenager to save his grown-up, traitorous ass. 

Harry laughed . 

It was cold, mocking and cruel. Enough that the hairs on the back of their necks stood up, warning of the danger, settling a need to run or fight in their bones.

“ Me ? Save you ?” Harry shook his head, a wide smile spreading through his face, making him look manic. Insane, Draco would say, while Tom would match Harry’s grin with one of his own. “You’d send me gift-wrapped to Voldemort himself if you thought it would save you from his wrath. And I’m not sure what delusions you are under, but this Harry Potter won’t be saving anyone from the Dark Lord.” 

He could feel both men’s eyes piercing into him, one calculating, one with ever sinking hope, and Merlin, what a rush . To goad these grown men, to shatter their dreams.

Last hope of salvation.

“Why would I? After all, we’re working towards the same goals, he and I.” With a few conflicting views, but that can be fixed. Compromised on.

Karkaroff spluttered, gasping for air as he staggered back away from Harry, who continued standing with hands behind his back, a seemingly pleasant, yet mocking smile on his face.

Karkaroff later will think that it was the devil himself staring at him through the boy’s eyes, foretelling his inevitable, horrible death - for it will be horrifying under the Dark Lord’s hand - and laughing at his terror. His dying hope.

This wasn’t the Harry Potter he’s heard about. This cruel vindictive monster - for that’s what he was - a wolf in sheep’s clothing, will do nothing to save any of them from the Dark Lord, and would rather join him.

Who will save him - them - now?

Severus got the distinct impression that Potter was like a cat playing with its food.

He would’ve intervened if it was anyone other than Karkaroff, but he just had to see how this would play out.

He never expected such cruel words from the boy. From Lily’s child.

The blatant taunting, subtle threatening.

Crushing whatever hope Igor held for Harry Potter to vanquish the Dark Lord. Gone.

It reminded Severus of someone else. 

No wonder Lucius asked if the Dark Lord was influencing Potter; for a brief moment, he thought that too.

What an interesting development. 

If this was the boy's true self, then thank Merlin it didn't come out sooner, otherwise Severus wasn't sure if the school would still be standing.

Karkaroff, on the other hand, looked ready to keel over.

"Leave, Igor. And cease harassing my students with your own problems."

The headmaster turned to look at him incredulously.

"If Potter doesn't kill the Dark Lord, we are as good as dead!"

"We?" Snape parroted. "There's only one traitor amongst us, and it isn't me."

Harry was downright grinning at the headmaster, and Snape couldn't find it in himself to care. Igor was beyond annoying this year, and it was time someone put the man in his place, even if it was a student.

Oh well.

"This isn't over," Karkaroff sneered, and Potter started hissing; the very next moment Karkaroff keeled over.

Truly, it just showed how little they as a community knew of this specific brand of magic. Before Potter started hissing at everyone this year, Severus had no idea he could influence the Dark Mark with parselmagic. It was a scary thought, especially since Potter seemed to take sadistic pleasure out of hurting Igor with it.

"That's enough, Mr Potter," Severus stepped up, because there were limits to what he could allow. "Leave, Igor. And if the Dark Lord is truly returning, I suggest you start running. Or beg for forgiveness, either way, I don't care. Let's go, Mr Potter."

Severus put a hand on the boy's shoulder and led him away, hoping that no one saw or heard anything.

"You must be more careful, Mr Potter. There are eyes and ears everywhere."

Harry turned to grin at him.

"I'm not an idiot, professor."

"Then please, cease tormenting foreign headmasters."

"Stick to my own, got it."

Cheeky brat.

"Well, if you're not about to go back to your entourage of fans, Mr Potter, I suggest you go to bed. I'm sure you had an… exciting evening."

Harry smirked. "Of course, which is why I'm curious which torture technique you've selected for the Weasley."

Snape sported a smirk of his own.

"I'm sure it'll be long and torturous, Mr Potter. Now, I bid you goodnight."

With that, Severus left his probably most terrifying student at the entrance to the Great Hall.

He still had his teacher duties, after all.

Harry had no intention of going back to the Ball, of what was left of it, and hurried down into the Chamber.

"Harry." Tom greeted as Harry stepped into the room. "How was your-" he stopped abruptly once he saw Harry, eyes widening.

The next moment, Tom was standing up and walking closer, eyes raking Harry’s form appreciatively top to bottom without missing an inch. "Darling, you look positively delicious ."

Harry's eyes widened in shock, not having expected this, and the next moment his cheeks were flaring red at the innuendo.

He tried to take a step back - possibly run away - but Tom clearly anticipated this and took Harry's hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a kiss, all while maintaining eye contact.

Harry didn't know what to do with himself. He felt embarrassed and wanted to get away, but Tom's eyes kept him rooted to the spot, and the damned bastard was smirking , as if he knew exactly what he was doing to Harry.

"I'm sure you had an eventful evening, dear, but first, allow me a dance with you. Merlin knows enough people had their hands on you today, and I feel greedy for my share."

At that moment, Harry's mouth refused to form words due to sheer possessiveness and jealousy in Tom's voice, so he simply nodded, allowing the other boy to pull him into the pose.

Soon after, the music started, and just like the last time, Tom moulded them into position and started swirling.

"Darling, did I break you?" Tom asked after a minute of silence, only half-joking.

Harry shook his head, forcing himself to snap out of whatever state he was in. "N-no. I'm unbreakable."

Tom smiled indulgently. "Sure. Whatever you say."

After that, Harry relaxed in Tom's arms, for the first time that night.

There were no expectations here, in the Chamber of Secrets.

No reporters, no gossip mill ready to be started at the smallest misstep.

Just him, Tom and music.

"I hope you're not falling asleep on me," Tom muttered, after a while. At this point, they were just swinging together in a comfortable embrace. "That would be highly rude."

Harry snorted into Tom's chest. "We can't have that."

Their eyes met.

Harry felt drunk as he gazed into the eyes of a boy who will one day become the most dangerous man to walk the earth.

That's not what it felt like to him.

To Harry, Tom was his only real friend. The one person he could trust completely, despite a few hiccups, and he wouldn't trade him for the whole world.

Not for anyone.

And as he stood there, Tom's arms wrapped around him, in the Chamber that was no one's but their own… Harry had never felt more at home. More at peace.

He felt like he was falling.

And Tom… his eyes were soft as he gazed at Harry, even if he knew there was a beast hiding behind them. Yet there was something fierce, something very much like devotion, like- like desire , and all of a sudden, Harry felt naked.

He felt seen.

He didn't even notice when they stopped swinging, when the music faded away, and they were left just gazing deep into each other's souls, with no secrets between them.

Without warning, Tom leaned down.

For some reason, Harry didn't freak out once their lips touched, or when he subconsciously went on his tiptoes to meet Tom halfway.

It was cliche, but Harry felt sparks fly.

A warm feeling spread all over his body, an unconscious shudder that Tom took a great pleasure in being the cause of, and pulled Harry even closer.

Harry gasped, and Tom took the chance to bite the boy's lip, enjoying the little gasps Harry made.

They pulled away.

"Was that alright?" Tom asked quietly, as if not to break the momentum.

Harry, quite honestly, had trouble forming thoughts, not to mention speaking.

He felt dazed, but managed a nod, eyes alternating between Tom's slightly swollen smirking lips, to his amused eyes.

"Oh my, did I render you speechless, darling? Tsk tsk," he gently brushed his thumb across Harry's cheek, all the while his eyes stayed on Harry, who remained silent. "Did I break you?"

At that moment Harry snapped out of whatever stupor he was in, and glared . "I'm- I'm not- stop looking so smug!" He slapped Tom's chest. "I'm fine!"

Tom's smirk only grew while Harry spluttered in indignation, then pouted, clearly admitting defeat, at least in Tom's opinion.

"Was that something you wanted?" Tom asked again, trying to ignore the ever-growing fear that he stepped too far, and Harry will want nothing to do with him after this. That the kiss was a mistake and would ruin their relationship.

Or that Harry will deny him.

He didn't know which was worse.

The boy's cheeks reddened, a rare shy smile creeping up on his face, and Harry nodded.

"Use your big boy words, Harry."

"Shut up!" the boy smacked Tom's chest and tried to step back, but the slytherin was quick to sneak his arm around Harry's waist and pull him back in. "Tom!"

"If you don't like something, you should say it, darling." Tom teased, unable to get enough of Harry being all flustered. It was an endearing sight. "You're usually exceptionally vocal about things that annoy you."

That was true, Harry thought, but-

"Well, I'm quite enjoying it this far." He allowed his hands to wrap around Tom's neck, offering a smile. "And dance better, too."

"Well, as long as you don't kiss anyone else you dance with," Tom joked, but the warning note in his voice was clear. "You didn't, did you?"

Mischievous smirk made its way onto Harry's lips. "And if I did?" he looked up at Tom, seeing pure jealousy radiating from him. "Would you be jealous, Tommy-dear?"

Tom's hands on him tighten in warning, a dangerous glint appearing in his eyes.

"You shouldn't tempt me like this, Harry-dear . You know I have no qualms about commiting a murder."

Harry threw his head back and laughed, grinning at Tom with open fondness.

"After I tell you what happened today, I think you'll have every right to commit one. I, of course, will help."

Tom grinned right back, moulding Harry into position again, before spinning them in circles - the music was back again.

Harry laughed maniacally, especially when Tom leaned down to steal another kiss.

"I cannot wait for you to tell me about all the people I will have the honour of killing for you, darling."

Tom couldn't keep his eyes off the boy he kept safely enclosed in his arms, wondering how in hell did he get so lucky. To find someone just as twisted as him, just as dark.

Just as perfect.

And he couldn't help but think, to promise:

I will give you the world.