average human’s Reviews > Polyjuice > Status Update

“Mister Potter, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Harry looked up from his bag that he was hastily cramming papers in and nodded.

“Of course Professor,” he said. Harry scooped his bag up and walked up to Professor McGonagalls desk.

“Harry, I need to speak with you about your partner,” she said slowly. Harry wasn’t sure he liked the look on her face. She looked nervous, and it was making him nervous.

“What partner?” he asked.

“Your partner for the Yule Ball.”

“Oh. I’m not going,” he said with a shrug. He’d listened as McGonagall announced the Yule Ball, but he thought it sounded terrible. Dancing around in posh robes in front of the whole school? A nightmare really. “It’s not mandatory, is it?”

“It is for Champions, as you will be opening the ceremony,” she said. Which made sense. Because being a champion was brilliant; which meant of course it came along with such a stupid requirement. “And you will need a partner.”

“Fine,” Harry huffed. “Partner would be the same thing as a date, yeah? Fred will probably go with me.”

Probably.

Harry would have to ask him.

“That is what I needed to speak with you about,” McGonagall said hesitantly. “Male champions are required to bring a female date.”

Harry blinked at her in surprise before quickly clearing his expression.

“That’s not fair,” he said. “Fred’s my boyfriend, why can’t he come?”

“I agree, it is unfair and ridiculously outdated,” McGonagall sniffed. “I personally would be irate to learn that I could not bring my life partner as my date to a social event. However, it is considered an ancient tradition that dates back to the first tournament and the rules are clear. I am sure Fred will understand,” she added kindly. “Perhaps you could bring Miss Bones as a friend instead?”

Harry scowled and scuffed the floor with his boots.

“Can’t we just change the rules?” he asked. “Because if you think they’re unfair too then maybe Dumbledore will listen to you?”

Knowing Dumbledore though, he’d probably set up the rules just to make what was sure to be a miserable night for Harry even worse.

Stupid old man.

“I tried,” McGonagall said, honesty practically oozing from her mouth. “But apparently it would require an entire rewrite of the rule book and all three participating schools would need to agree.”

“Fred’s going to be furious,” he warned her.

“I would never endorse a prank, but perhaps you would kindly inform Mister Weasley that the vote to change the rules regarding same sex dates to the ball was 2-1. And neither Professor Dumbledore nor Headmistress Maxine voted against it.”

Harry grinned up at her, the twinkle in her eyes giving away her true intentions with her words.

“Yes ma’am,” he said politely. “If that’s all?”

“It is. Good luck,” she dismissed him.

Harry found his friends waiting for him in the corridor and he immediately pulled them together.

“The Yule Ball is bullshit,” he whispered. “Theo- I need you to look up the rules. McGonagall says they say I can’t take Fred as a date, can you double check?”

“I’m on it,” Theo nodded.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Susan offered.

“Nah,” Harry waved off her offer with a small, and thankful, grin. “McGonagall’s probably wrong. We found a way around loads of rules before, I’m sure we can again.”



In Potions that afternoon, Snape made another announcement about the ball to them all.

“As many of you are aware, Hogwarts is hosting the Yule Ball this year,” Snape sneered, as if insulted by the mere idea of a dance. Harry couldn’t agree more. “This is meant to be a time to socialize with our foreign guests. However,” Snape’s eyes rested on each student individually, causing the Gryffindors to squirm in the seats. “This is not an open invitation to embarrass me. You will wear dress robes, you will act as I expect my students to act, and you will be a credit to our school. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” everyone murmured.

“Excellent. Dismissed.”

Everyone began chattering excitedly, everyone except Harry who was feeling irritated by the whole thing.

“Potter- a word.”

Harry rolled his eyes and waited, assuming this was more of what McGonagall already told him.

“Yes sir?” he asked politely when he walked up to Snape’s desk.

“Has Minerva told you of the rules regarding the champions approved dates to the ball?” Snape asked with a blunt forwardness that Harry appreciated.

“Yeah,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Supposedly I can’t take Fred. It’s bullshit.”

“Indeed,” Snape nodded his head. “As a side note, I would like to warn you against accepting any food or drinks from female classmates that you are not currently friends with.”

“What?” Harry stared at him in genuine surprise. It’s not like he would just take food from strangers, but it still seemed like an odd thing for Snape to tell him. “Why?”

“Because events like this tend to cause students to lose their heads,” Snape said drily. “And without fail, I find many students, male and female alike, to become unwilling victims of love potions.”

“Ugh,” Harry curled his nose in disgust. “That’s messed up.”

“Quite,” Snape’s lips twitched in amusement. “I simply thought I should warn you, as undoubtedly there will suddenly be many female students wishing to hang on your arm at this sham of an event.”

Harry rolled his eyes at him once Snape dismissed him. It was absurd that Fred liked him, it would be pure madness for anyone else to ask him out.



At dinner that night, Theo slammed down the thickest book Harry had ever seen and scowled ferociously at it.

“This is bullshit,” he said, repeating Harry’s exact words from earlier. “The rule book for the whole tournament. And it specifically says all students can only bring a partner of the opposite sex.”

“That’s outrageous!” Draco said.

“Almost as bad as people thinking bloodlines matter,” Susan smirked. “Wild concept, isn’t it?”

Harry ignored his now bickering friends and looked beseechingly at Fred.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “McGonagall said I have to have a date. I’d look like a prat dancing by myself. But we can’t go together.”

“It’s fine,” Fred told him with a lopsided grin. “I’m not mad. It’s hardly your fault, is it?”

“But...” Harry glanced around and, reassured by his still arguing friends, lowered his voice slightly. “But I don’t want you to go with some twit,” he admitted.

“I won’t,” Fred told him. “I don’t have to have a date, you do. So you find some lucky gal to hang on your arm for the Ball and then we can laugh about it later.”

Harry watched Fred carefully while he said that, and saw the tightness in his eyes that meant he was probably feeling more hurt by this than he was letting on.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Harry sighed. “This sucks. But you shouldn’t go by yourself if I’m taking someone. That’s not fair.”

“Alright,” Fred shrugged and looked at Luna. “Will you be my date to the Yule Ball Miss Lovegood?”

“Oh I can’t,” she said with a sweet smile. “Draco already asked me.”

Harry spun his head to look at Draco, who was now blushing terribly.

“I thought we’d go as friends,” Draco said with his hands raised. “Otherwise she can’t go, and I don’t really have anyone specific I’d want to go with anyway.”

Harry squinted at Draco and watched him squirm beneath his stare.

“You’re going to be nice to her all night long,” Susan cut in sternly. “You will get her drinks, dance with her, and make it the best night ever. Do you understand me Draco Lucius Malfoy?”

“Yes ma’am,” Draco said with a mock salute. “Best night ever, right Luna?”

“Right,” Luna smiled at him and Harry was pleased to see her look so happy. Of course if Draco fucked it up, he’d bash his blonde head in the wall.

“Miss Granger- me and you then?” Fred winked at Hermione, causing Theo to immediately scowl.

“No,” Theo practically growled. “Hermione is going to be my date to the ball Weasley.”

“He’s teasing you Theo,” Hermione sighed, although she looked rather pleased as well. “Everyone knows we’re going together.”

“Blimey. I knew we needed more girl friends,” Ron grumbled. “I dunno who I’m supposed to ask.”

“Am I not a girl?” Susan asked harshly.

“Uh...” Ron glanced at Blaise, who shook his head slightly. “Well, I figured you’d go with Harry? Also-“

“Also you’re a bit terrifying,” Blaise laughed. “So no, you don’t really count.”

“I accept your reasoning,” Susan said pompously. “But Harry told me he didn’t need me to go with him, and then Johnny asked me. But-“ she glanced at Harry and raised her brows, “I can tell him to piss off and go with you instead if you want?”

“No,” Harry slumped down at that. Dancing with Susan would have been fine. Harry was used to her touching him. But he knew she liked Johnny, so it would be selfish to ask her to give him up for himself. “That’s not fair. Go with Johnny. But tell him I’ll kill him if he’s rude to you, yeah?”

“Like she’d need you to do that,” Neville grinned. “Susan would just kill him herself.”

“I would,” Susan nodded. “But he said he thinks I’m ‘a force’, so I doubt he’d try anything,” she smirked.

“Which means we still need dates,” Ron moaned.

“We’ll find someone,” Blaise said bracingly. “I’m sure we can charm up a few witches to be our dates for the evening, right Neville?”

“Er...”

“Not you too!” Harry cried. “Who are you going with then?”

Neville sat up straight and looked right at Fred and Ron.

“I’d like to ask Ginny. But since you two are my friends, I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be mad first.”

Ron and Fred glanced at each other, and got identically mischievous smiles on their faces.

”That’s pretty chivalrous of you Neville,” Ron smirked.

“Of course we wouldn’t mind if such a brave and gallant young man took Ginny to the ball,” Fred said.

“Why would we mind?” Ron asked.

“She’s only our baby sister...”

“Only girl in the family...”

“Our Mums favorite...”

“Why would we worry?”

Neville gulped but bravely kept watching the two scheming Weasley’s.

“What are your intentions with our sister?” Fred asked solemnly. “Marriage?”

“A family?” Ron raised his brows.

“Sex?” Fred growled in a way that Harry thought wasn’t actually part of their act.

“No! Merlin! No!” Neville turned a bright shade of red. “I just- she talks to me sometime in the common room, and she’s only a third year, so she can’t go without an older date. And she said she was staying at Hogwarts for Christmas so I thought I’d ask her. As friends. Merlin.”

“Fine,” Fred waved his fork threateningly at Neville. “But if you treat her badly, I’m letting Susan take care of you.”

“Doubtful,” Susan scoffed. “I don’t work for you Frederick.”

“Brill,” Harry groaned. “So Fred needs a date. Ron needs one. Blaise needs one. And I need one. Nobody’s going to want to go with me, everyone knows I’m dating Fred.”

Harry’s friends all glanced at each other and immediately began laughing in a way that made Harry’s hand twitch in annoyance.

“What’s so funny then?” he demanded.

“Harry,” Luna smiled softly at him. “There’s going to be a whole line of witches just waiting to ask you to the ball.”

“But- why?” Harry asked, genuinely confused. “They know I’m dating Fred, yeah?”

“They won’t care,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “They’ll think they can make you change your mind.”

“Disgusting,” Fred said cheerfully. “Witches are brutal.”

“You guys are mad,” Harry scoffed. “I’m going to end up showing up alone and dancing with McGonagall.”

Harry’s friends laughed again and he grit his teeth as he swore that he would find a way to hex nine people simultaneously.

***

Lupin,
McGonagall says I can’t take Fred to the Yule Ball. Some bullshit rules that say that you can’t have a ‘same sex date’. I figure it’s kind of like when your parents wouldn’t have liked Black, yeah? Anyway, that’s what I’m doing this week. I have to find a date. Which sucks. Because Luna, Mione, and Susan already have dates. And I dunno if anyone will ask me or go with me since everyone knows I’m dating Fred.
Also Sevvie is just misunderstood. He’s got an owl heart of gold. He probably pecked you because he doesn’t like you. Can’t imagine why.
-Harry.

***

To Harry’s amazement, his friends wound up being right. The very next morning, during breakfast, a curly haired, third year, Hufflepuff girl came up to him and asked him to go with her.

“No,” Harry said shortly. The girl walked off looking rather dejected and Susan scowled at him.

“She’s very nice you know,” she said.

“She asked me right in front of everyone!” Harry exclaimed. “That’s mad! It was probably a joke or something.”

“Being oblivious is not charming,” Hermione said with a small grin. “Harry, you’re very fanciable. I’d bet that she was just the first of many.”

Harry could feel himself tensing up at the very thought, but, of course, Hermione was right again.

As she usually was.

Which was annoying.



By dinner that night four more witches asked him. Including Pansy Parkinson, who Harry had once snapped her wand in half.

“I know we haven’t always gotten along, but I’d like to go with you,” she batted her dark eyelashes at Harry in the most annoying way possible.

“Piss off,” Harry had snarled, turning and stomping away in the opposite direction.

“She probably knows how to dance,” Draco said at dinner after Harry told his friends about it. “Her parents have had her in dance classes her whole life.”

“She called me a disgusting orphan,” Harry sneered. “No.”

Harry was starting to hate girls. They were all just so giggly and annoying.

“Have you lot found dates yet?” he asked Fred, Viktor, Blaise, and Ron.

“I decided I’m definitely going stag,” Fred said with a grin. “Then I’m free to dance with you as soon as your ‘champion obligations’ are done.”

“I have not,” Viktor frowned down at his drink. “Vitches are hard to ask.”

“You’re an international superstar,” Susan sighed exasperated. “I’m sure anyone you ask will say yes.”

“Hey! I’ve got an idea!” Fred, shockingly, smiled at Viktor. “There’s a girl on my quidditch team, Katie Bell, and she’s mad about quidditch! Smart as a whip too! And she’s pretty! You could ask her. Then you could go with George and Angelina, and Lee and Alicia. A whole group of quidditch fanatics!”

Viktor brightened at that, but Harry scowled just a bit. Why wouldn’t Fred have told him about Katie? He’d met her a few times before, she would have been fine for him to ask to the ball. It would have been uncomfortable to dance with her, but better than the nothing he had now.

“I vill do that,” Viktor nodded gratefully at Fred. “Vank you.”

“Anytime.” Fred winked at Harry and then noticed his dark look. “What?”

“I would have asked Katie,” he said, crossing his arms irritably. “Then me you and her could have hung out, yeah?”

“Oh,” Fred’s face fell a bit and he shrugged in a helpless sort of way. “I didn’t think of that. Sorry Darlin.”

“Vould you like to ask her?” Viktor grunted. “I do not mind.”

”No,” Harry sighed, a bit dramatically, at yet another suitable date being snagged away. “You should ask her Viktor, I met her once at a party and she’s nice enough. You’ll have a good time.”

Honestly. This dance was becoming more drama than it was worth. And it was putting Harry in the awkward position where he’d have to ask someone for something, which he hated doing.

“Harry the dance is a week away,” Susan said gently. “Just ask someone or accept the next invite you get, we both know you’ll get more.”

Harry scowled at that, but the problem that they didn’t realize was:

1- It was bullshit rules that put him in this position and Harry hated rules that didn’t have any reasoning behind them.

2- He didn’t want to dance with someone else because they would probably touch him and he hated that too.

And 3- He didn’t actually want to go if he couldn’t go with Fred.

“I will,” he grumbled. “Eventually.”

“Better hurry Harry, even Ron has a date,” Draco smirked.

“What?!” Harry gaped at Ron, whose ears were now red despite his pleased look. “Who?!”

“Parvati Patil,” he said. “Blaise is taking her sister Padma so we’re all going together.”

“You could ask Lavender Brown,” Blaise said. “I don’t think she has a date yet.”

“Neither does Daphne,” Theo said. “She’d love to go with you.”

Harry grimaced at those options and pushed his plate away, suddenly no longer hungry.

“This is bullshit,” he said for the fiftieth time since the ball was announced. “Absolute bullshit.”

***

Harry,
I agree that the rules surrounding the Yule Ball are disturbing, unfair, and, as you said, absolutely bullshit. Have you found a date yet? If not, I would advise you to just ask a girl who seems kind and who respects your current relationship.
I mentioned the blatant discrimination to your godfather, leaving out any reference to your letter, and he said: “Harry and Fred should just dance together anyway. What are they going to do? Expel them?”
While I personally believe it may be easiest to simply find a nice girl to take for the evening, you should do what you are comfortable with.
Good luck, I can’t wait to hear who you’ve taken.
-Remus

***

Harry read Lupin’s letter thoughtfully over breakfast. With only three days until the Ball, he did need to figure something out.

“‘Arry?”

Harry looked up from his letter and was surprised to see Fleur Delacour standing beside their table.

“Fleur,” he smiled up at her. “How are you?”

“I am well,” she smiled. “May I speak with you? Perhaps in private?”

“Oui,” Harry grinned. “Lead the way my Lady.”

Harry followed Fleur out to the steps of Hogwarts. It was beginning to get really frigid out, they had even had a light snowfall the night before. Which added to the overall magical appearance of the lawns.

“‘Arry, would you be my date to the ball?” Fleur asked with a bright smile. “I know you ‘ave a paramour, but as you cannot take ‘im- we could go together, no?”

“I-“ Harry was caught by surprise and flexed his hand a few times while he thought about it. “Yeah, yeah, okay. That would be brill Fleur. As friends, right?”

“Oui,” Fleur beamed at him. “As friends.”



Harry rejoined his friends with a bemused smile.

“What did Fleur want?” Hermione asked him.

“She wanted to ask me to the ball,” Harry shrugged. “I told her yeah.”

Apparently his friends were all as surprised as Harry was, because they all stared at him in shock.

“Fleur Delacour asked you to the ball?” Blaise asked in a choked voice.

“As friends,” Harry told him.

“And you said yes?!” Ron asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t he? Fleur’s gorgeous,” Susan said. “She’s very smart and powerful too. I’m sure you guys will have a great night together Harry.”

Harry nodded, then twitched slightly when Fred pushed his plate abruptly away and got up and left.

“What’s his problem?” Harry asked.

“He’s jealous,” Blaise said. “Fleur’s gorgeous and she’s going with his boyfriend.”

“He told me to find a date,” Harry said. “So I did. So what’s the problem?”

“Honestly,” Hermione huffed. “Harry, Fred doesnt want you to go alone, but he’s still feeling insecure that you’re going with Fleur. Give him some space, he’ll be fine.”

“I dunno, Fred’s weird,” Ron said.

“He is not fuckin’ weird,” Harry scowled.

“No, not weird,” Ron said hastily. “I mean, he likes you a lot, you know? And Fred’s always been pretty open about liking blokes, so he’s probably just mad about having to hide it. That’s all.”

“Yeah...” Harry looked down at Lupin’s letter again and furrowed his brows thoughtfully. “I actually need to go find Snape. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Harry walked slowly to Snape’s office, debating on the best way to ask him the favor he’d need.

“Come in,” Snape called when Harry knocked.

“It’s me,” Harry said absently as he clutched the letter in one hand. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” Snape didn’t smile, but he did look to be in a good mood. “What can I do for you?”

“Er...” Harry looked around as he tried to find a way to word it just right. “Will you be mad if one of the Slytherin’s embarrasses you at the Ball?”

“Are you planning on embarrassing me?” Snape asked warily. “Because I would prefer you to not.”

“I dunno, not embarrass you exactly. But... I think you might be mad at me.”

“Explain,” Snape sighed.

“I don’t want to dance with Fleur,” Harry blurted. “I’d rather dance with Fred, if I have to dance at all. Which- McGonagall says I do. And I don’t want someone I don’t know grabbing on me while we dance, it’s weird. So I’m going to find a way to take Fred, so nobody’s upset or jealous, but then you’re going to be upset, yeah?”

Snape ran a weary hand across his face and slumped back in his chair.

“Inform me of your precise plan, if you would,” he said.

“I don’t have one,” Harry admitted. “Not yet. But I’m going to get one.”

“Will you be informing me of it before you do it?”

“If it means we aren’t going to fight and you aren’t going to be mad, then yeah.”

Snape nodded curtly.

“Keep in mind as you are plotting- that change is difficult to implement. Yet I believe you are cunning enough to find a subtle way to do so. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Harry nodded as well and grinned over at Snape. He was a decent bloke. “Hey thanks for not hating me for dating Fred.”

“Why on Earth would I hate you?” Snape asked, surprised. “Frederick is a chaotic monster in his own right, but your relationships are your business as long as they are safe, consensual, and make you happy.”

“Well, Lupin said his parents wouldn’t have liked him being gay, but I didn’t even know that was a thing until recently. And Karkaroff wouldn’t vote for a change in the rules, so I guess people are still weird about it. Which I didn’t know. So... so thanks for not being weird about it.”

“Go,” Snape actually had part of his mouth curled up in a smile now. “Go and find a way to enlighten the Wixen community of the many differing sexualities, yes?”

“Yes sir,” Harry grinned. “Wish me luck.”

Harry immediately ran off to find his friends and missed Snape’s quietly spoken well wishes.



“Susan, Theo, Blaise- we need a plan,” Harry said once he found his friends huddled up in the Slytherin common room.

“I’m in,” Susan said without hesitation.

“What plan?” Theo asked hesitantly.

“Why can’t I help?” Draco whined.

“You can all help, but we have to think quick,” Harry said. “We’re finding a way I can take Fred to the ball.”

“But you already told Fleur you’d take her,” Luna said softly. “She’ll be upset if you change your mind.”

Fuck.

Harry hadn’t considered that.

“Find Fleur a new date,” Hermione said. “She knew you were dating Fred, right? So just tell her that you’re finding a way around the rules and you’d rather her find a date that she can have fun with as well.”

“Lue- will that work?” Harry asked. Luna was the one who brought it up, so she’d probably know best.

“I think if you do it very kindly it will,” Luna said thoughtfully. “Maybe mention how beautiful and smart she is though, just to ease the pain of rejection.”

“Brill.”

“How are we doing this then?” Susan asked, her eyes lit up with excitement.

“Subtly,” Harry said seriously. “Snape won’t be pissed if I’m subtle he says.”

“Boo, fine,” Susan rolled her eyes.

“I’ve got an idea,” Theo said. “It’s subtle, but sends a message. And you can dance with Fred.”

“Let’s hear it,” Harry said. His excitement for the ball rose exponentially once Theo explained and the gang tweaked a few minor details.

“It’s perfect!” Harry declared. “As long as Snape isn’t pissed.”



And when Harry hurried and told Snape the plan- Snape wasn’t pissed at all. In fact, he said he was proud of Harry for standing up for what he believed in. Which, was weird. Because Harry just didn’t want to upset Fred or dance with Fleur. But he supposed it was still nice of Snape to say.



“Fleur, could I talk to you?”

Harry had finally tracked Fleur down in the halls and was feeling terrible for what he was about to do. Fleur was nice, and the more they talked the more Harry liked the witch, but Fred was his and she wasn’t. It was an easy choice.

Even if he felt bad about it.

“Of course ‘Arry,” she smiled.

“Fleur... I...” Harry gripped his knife handle in his pocket and drew courage from it. “I can’t take you to the ball. I’m sorry. It’s-“

“It eez your paramour, yes?” Fleur said. “‘E does not wish for you to take another?”

“Kind of,” Harry admitted. “But I would be mad if he was dancing with someone else too. And,” Harry leaned forward and tried to smile charmingly, “we’re going to find a way around the rules so he can go with me.”

“Zat is excellenté,” Fleur said, sounding genuinely happy. “Eet is unfair you could not. We would never have zis problem at Beauxbatons, no?”

“The French are better than us Brits in almost every way,” Harry winked, using a phrase he’d heard Snape say before. “Are you mad? Because I can help you find someone nice to go with.”

“‘Arry,” Fleur smiled and her blue eyes were twinkling with amusement. “I ‘ave ‘ad dozens of wizards ask me, zey do believe me to be rather attractive. I zink I can ‘andle finding a date.”

“Dozens?” Harry asked, surprised. “Fleur, you shouldn’t go with someone that just asks you because you’re pretty. They should know you’re a genius too, okay?”

Fleur’s already bright smile intensified at that and she shocked Harry by leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek quickly.

“Zank you for saying that ‘Arry, your paramour eez a lucky man.”

“He is,” Harry agreed with a grin. “But I’ll tell him you said that, yeah?”

Fleur’s tinkling laugh followed Harry as he pulled his map out to find Fred.

Who, luckily, was alone in the owlery.

Harry raced up there, keeping an eye on Fred’s dot to make sure he didn’t leave before Harry got there.

“Fred!” Harry burst in the owlery and surprised Fred, who had been leaning against the window looking out at the clear cold sky. “Hey! Go to the ball with me?”

“Funny,” Fred quipped with a small, fake, grin.

“No really,” Harry stepped closer to him and looked up earnestly at him. “Go to the ball with me.”

“How?” Fred asked. “The rules say we can’t.”

“Fred,” Harry grinned mischievously, “how would you like to play the greatest prank ever on Hogwarts?”

Fred’s matching grin was all the confirmation Harry needed.

***

Lupin,
I took your advice. Well, Black’s advice. I’m taking Fred to the Ball. So basically this week all I’ve done is deal with a bunch of girls asking me out and make plans for the ball. I was going to go with Fleur but I’d rather go with Fred. So we’re going together. But we’re ‘subverting the rules with the subtlety befitting of a Slytherin’ (Snape’s words, not mine). Anyway, guess I’ll write afterwards and tell you how it went.
-Harry.

***

Rita Skeeter,
This is Harry Potter. I was wondering how you would feel about coming to Hogwarts for the Yule Ball? I’m sure the Contessa would be pleased if you would come and write a story about a bullshit ridiculous rule that my boyfriend and I will be protesting against.
Best wishes,
Harry James Potter, Heir Potter-Black, ally to the Contessa Zabini of Italy.

Chapter End Notes

Up Next: The Yule Ball

65%

Fred stood beside his brother and Angelina outside the Great Hall doors and politely ignored the guilty looks McGonagall kept sending him. Harry told him how McGonagall thought it was unfair that they couldn’t go together, but she didn’t stick up much for them either, did she? And it wasn’t like they were the only couple in Hogwarts who had a ‘same sex partner’, so bullocks to her.

Fred watched with a warm feeling of pride as Harry strode up to the doors and lined up with the other champions. He looked breathtaking in his new dark green dress robes that had silver trimming on them. A gift from Zabini’s mum apparently. All Fred knew was they looked expensive, and Harry looked brilliant in them. Every bit the Slytherin Prince the Gryffindor’s called him as a taunt.

Little Luna, in her floor length silver ball gown, looked beautiful by his side. Susan had done her hair for the event, and it was twisted up in elegant braids that wrapped around her head and was adorned with interwoven strands of black sparkles, like some sort of delicately dark fairy crown. Fred ignored the small stab of jealousy he felt at seeing someone so gorgeous holding on to Harry’s arm. He reassured himself that it was only temporary though.

Because Harry was amazing and had made a plan.

He distracted himself by eyeing the other couples standing around. George and Angie in their matching dark red dress robes (Angie refused to wear a dress, she called it sexist). George had tried to get Fred to wear Gryffindor colors too, but Fred instead went with a silver and green set, matching Harry without being too matching.

In front of Harry stood Viktor Krum, in black dress robes, with Katie Bell laughing beside him in a beautiful form fitting dress of black satin. Ahead of them were Cedric Diggory in classic Hufflepuff yellow dress robes, with Cho Chang in a green and yellow floral wrap dress that Fred wasn’t quite sure what it was called.

In the front of the line of champions was Fleur Delcaour in a full length bronze colored dress, with a Durmstrang chap that Fred didn’t know the name of. Which probably wasn’t important as Fleur kept glancing towards Harry longingly. Which was bloody annoying. Harry had told Fred that Fleur understood why he cancelled, and was planning on finding a date who ‘understood her worth as a person’, but from the way the Durmstrang boy was drooling and Harry was smirking knowingly up at Fleur, Fred doubted if Fleur appreciated the trade in partners.

Which, again, was bloody annoying.

Fred shook his head and went back to looking at the rest of the students. If he fell in to a bad mood every time someone looked at Harry like he was a meal to be devoured instead of the most amazing person Fred had ever met, then he’d probably be in a perpetually bad mood. And that just wasn’t his style.

Fred grinned over at little Ronniekins in his deep purple dress robes with one of the Patil twins on his arm dressed in a pink sari. Zabini was beside them, also in dark purple dress robes, with the other Patil girl in an orange sari on his arm. Both boys looked pleased with their dates and were all four talking enthusiastically about something Fred couldn’t hope to overhear.

Theo and Hermione looked sharp in their coordinating periwinkle and dark blue outfits. Theo glared at Fred when he caught his eye, so Fred winked irritatingly at him. Theo was ridiculous. As if Fred had any interest in taking someone as boring as Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball. Even if she was the wrong gender, she had no real sense of humor. Malfoy stood beside the two bookworms, his grey eyes continuously being drawn to Luna, while he was dressed to obviously match in posh silver trimmed black robes.

Fred even had to admit that even Neville looked rather dashing in his crimson robes. Fred had no idea where Ginny had gotten the money to order the dress she wore, but he was absolutely certain their mum didn’t purchase it. It was a tight, tight, shimmering golden dress that exposed more of her chest than Fred would have ever wanted to see in his life.

Of course Susan, hovering closely to Harry, was a total knockout. She was dressed in a skin tight, short, white dress that highlighted her curves, and had a long slit up the side to showcase her shapely legs. She’d curled her hair in to bouncy ringlets that drew your eyes right to her very exposed chest- which Johnny Abbott had clearly noticed.

Fred smirked at Johnny’s choice of attire. Clearly Harry and himself were not the only ones giving a huge middle finger to tradition tonight. Johnny was in a crisp black and white muggle suit and had on a black, backwards, muggle cap on top of his long blonde braids.

Fred hoped everyone blew a gasket when they saw Susan’s skimpy dress and Johnny’s muggle suit. It would serve them all right for refusing to allow same-sex couples to attend the ball together. Tradition had its place, but so did evolvement.

Fred knew that Harry’s friends thought he was being jealous when Harry decided to attend with Fleur Delacour, and he had been a bit. But it was more than that.

Fred had ‘came out’ to his family, sweating and stammering the whole time, when he was twelve. He’d known that year that he was only attracted to blokes, but he’d also been terrified to tell anyone. George was the first to know, as he always was, and told him to just ‘suck it up’ and ‘tell them already’. So he had.

And for the most part- it had been fine. His mum had cried on him, his Dad patted his shoulder reassuringly, and Bill and Charlie both said they had already guessed as much. Ginny shrugged, and Ron asked if there was dessert available. But his older brother Percy had changed that day- and Fred doubted if he’d ever see his brother in a truly positive light again. Percy had mumbled a lot about ‘unconventional’ and ‘unnatural’ under his breath when he was near Fred. And Fred never told anyone, but it had hurt him deeply to hear those things from the brother he used to look up to (back before he’d realized Percy was a stick in the mud anyway). Fred decided then that he could either be proud of who he was, or listen to Percy’s hateful mumblings and be ashamed.

And Fred chose to be proud.

Then he started openly dating Harry, as opposed to the casual hookups he’d had with blokes before that, and for the most part it had been wonderful. Fred figured if Harry was anyone else, it wouldn’t have been so relatively easy. But people either loved Harry, respected Harry, or were terrified of Harry. Some people seemed to be all three. So Harry had hardly gotten any of the flack that Fred occasionally did over being ‘open’ about his choice in romantic interests.

No student would dare call Harry a queer in a disgusted tone of voice. Nor would they curl their lips and whisper about what a disgrace he was, not for his sexuality anyway.

So, no, Harry and his friends didn’t really understand why this rule had bothered Fred so much.

And yet, despite not understanding Fred’s real and complicated feelings on the matter, Harry had still decided to say ‘fuck you’ to tradition and found a way that they could proudly be together tonight.

And Fred realized you could fall in love with someone more than once.

“Champions!” McGonagall yelled over the chattering of the students crowding the entrance hall. “Over here please!”

Fred winked one last time at Harry as the champions moved to their positions.

“Showtime,” he grinned at Malfoy, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Malfoy drawled, but his glance back towards Luna gave him away quite a bit.

Fred laughed and followed the rush of students in to the Great Hall. He positioned himself beside the doors, alongside Malfoy, and waited for his cue.

He glanced around with interest as he waited, noticing the Great Hall looked much more impressive than it usually did. 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.

All the students in the Hall began politely clapping, and somewhere a photographers flash was going off, as Fleur and her partner entered. Fred whistled and winked at the girl when she glanced at him. Her warm smile reassured him that she probably wasn’t after Harry romantically, but had likely just wanted a normal date for the night.

Which was understandable, but Harry was his date.

Next through was Diggory and Chang. There were more enthusiastic cheers for them as they followed behind Fleur to the Head Table.

Then Krum and Katie. Fred whistled again, which made Katie flip him off behind her back where the photographer wouldn’t see.

And then Harry. His Harry. Looking more elegant, graceful, and confident than Fred had ever seen. He thought it was similar to how Harry looked in a duel, except the tight look of ferocity in his eyes was gone, replaced tonight with a sparkle of amusement. Luna, beside him, looked just as graceful and elegant as she smiled serenely even in the face of the rapid, and blinding, flashbulbs.

Harry stopped about six feet in the hall and turned to Luna with a mischievous smirk.

“My Lady,” he grinned and raised her hand to his mouth for a chaste kiss. “I’m afraid my heart belongs to another.”

“Pity,” Luna sighed. “Yet we made such a fabulous couple.”

Fred chuckled beneath the loud whispers of gossip quickly moving between the onlooking students and staff. Theo and Hermione may be boring bookworms, but their lines for this part in the plan were perfect.

“May I?” Fred stepped forward and took Harry’s newly emptied hand.

“You may,” Harry smiled up at him and the already rapid clicks and flashes from the photographer went positively wild. Fred easily linked his arm with Harry’s and they strode confidently to the Head Table. The students began loudly talking at that, but, just as Harry’s friends had hoped, no one stopped them. Fred glanced backwards once and saw Draco immediately taking Luna’s hand and pulling her beside himself.

Fred looked back up at the Head Table and saw Dumbledore giving them a broad smile of approval. The headmaster began clapping, and slowly, so did the rest of the hall. By the time Fred and Harry made it to their seats, they had done so to a standing ovation.

Fred only resisted the urge to bow by pulling Harry’s chair out for him instead. He had promised Harry that he would be on his best, and most ‘subtle’, behavior tonight.

Not too subtle though. He did blow a kiss to Karkaroff once he saw the man’s purpling face glaring harshly at them.

Bigoted arse.

Fred was so focused on pulling off the switch of partners in a way that couldn’t be refused publicly, not without a loud scandal that ‘Harry’s good friend Rita Skeeter’ would write about, that he missed the familiar glasses on the familiar redhead that was seated right next to where he pulled the chair out for Harry.

Percy.

The last person Fred really wanted to see tonight, of all nights.

“Perce,” he said lightly. “Did you kill off old Crouch and take his position?”

Fred knew Percy hated being called ‘Perce’, nearly as much as he revered his cranky old boss. Which is why it was the perfect opening line to the brother who had curled his nose at him the moment Fred sat on the opposite side of Harry.

“I’ve been promoted,” Percy said, his tone nothing less than condescending and pompous. “I’m now Mr. Crouch’s personal assistant, and I’m here representing him.”

“Wow, fascinating,” Fred grinned. “Right Harry?”

“Not really,” Harry drawled, apparently picking up on Fred’s own dislike of Percy. Harry had an intuition better than any mind reading could ever be.

“What are you two doing?” Percy asked in a hushed whisper. “The rules clearly state-“

“The rules are bullshit,” Harry sneered. “So I don’t care about them, do I?”

Percy looked personally offended, as if he himself had written the rules.

“Fred, you should never have-“

“Excuse us,” Harry said with a small and insincere smile. Harry scooted his chair closer to Fred by a couple inches and the two of them shared a smile. On the other side of Harry, Percy’s face was a bright shade of red.

“How do you suppose we order food?” Harry asked Fred, plucking up the golden menu beside his plate. Fred glanced at Dumbledore and watched as he spoke his order to his plate, and had it immediately granted.

“Easily I guess,” Fred laughed. He looked down at his plate and told it clearly, “Lobster tail.”

Harry laughed when it popped up in immediate appearance.

“That’s not even on the menu!” he said.

“The elves love me,” Fred winked at him. “Try it.”

Harry looked down at his plate and ordered, “Miniature treacle tarts.”

Once Harry’s absurd wish had been granted, the two of them had a great time ordering more and more outrageous food while everyone around them talked happily.

Everyone except Percy, who was sending Fred occasional dark looks, along with a crinkled nose look of distaste towards Harry.

Fred’s wand hand twitched every time Percy looked at Harry like that, but he didn’t want to ruin Harry’s night by fighting with his brother.

He’d just remember this when they were home together over the summer.

Fred ignored his brother, and instead fell in to an easy chat with Katie and Krum about different quidditch teams in the leagues this year. Surprisingly, now that Fred was over his childish jealousy, Krum was a decent sort of bloke. He was self-deprecating and knowledgeable about the different ins and outs of professional quidditch and was eager to share with the Gryffindor players.

Beside them, Harry was chatting away with Fleur, her date all but forgotten, as the girl laughed and tried to teach Harry French.

“Parlez-vous anglais?” Fleur said.

“Parlay-voo angles?” Harry repeated, butchering the romantic language with his adorably slight twang.

And through it all- Percy sat in his seat, fuming and ignored.

All the way up until he mumbled something halfway through dinner that caused Harry to stiffen and turn a cool look on him.

“Take it back,” Harry said, his voice acerbic and frigid. ”Now.”

“Fred is my brother,” Percy said, his chin stuck out in the stubborn way that Weasley’s tend to be known for. “So I’ll say what I please, Potter.”

Harry suddenly smiled at Percy, and it wasn’t a kind smile at all. It was his ‘I’m about to tear you apart piece by piece’ smile that Fred dreamed about occasionally.

“Fred is mine,” Harry all but whispered. He had the same neat vocal trick that Snape did- he could lower his voice as much as he wanted, and still he sounded clear as a bell and sharp as a nail. “So no, you won’t say as you please.”

“Yours?” Percy looked between Fred and Harry and shook his head. “It’s unnatural and improper,” he whispered as the other conversations masked his vile words. “It’s not right.”

Harry barely moved, only twitched slightly, but suddenly the sleeve on his right arm was pulled back slightly and his sharp silver dagger was visible long enough for Percy and Fred to both see, before Harry shook his arm and it was hidden from view. Percy kept sending uneasy glances towards his arm now. Fred hoped he was remembering the many, many, photos of Harry stabbing a dragon with a sword that the Daily Prophet published.

“You know what’s unnatural?” Harry hissed. “People like you, Perky (and Merlin, Fred thought it was hysterical when Harry pretended to mispronounce peoples’ names). You’re the kind of guy who gets a nice ‘proper’ wife, then goes searching out for a bloke to take to a seedy motel with you late at night. Afterwards you go home to your ‘proper’ wife and ‘proper’ life, and it’s all a lie, isn’t it? Well guess what? Guys like you are usually the weakest and most disgustingly unnatural guys there are. So I’d calm down on the name calling.” Harry ended his disturbingly specific rant with a sharp smile and a twitch of his hand that had Percy flinching in his seat.

Fred thought his heart might burst at that.

“I love you,” he said conversationally to Harry. “Light of my life.”

Harry didn’t return the sentiment, which was fine because he said Fred was his, which was probably the most he could claim for sure right now. Plus, he did beam over at Fred and wink before they went right back to pretending Percy didn’t exist.

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 stood up and offered Fred his hand as the other champions rose as well.

Fred let Harry lead him by the hand to the brightly lit dance floor. Harry had his jaw set and a determined light in his eyes that looked a lot like preparation for a battle. The Weird Sisters struck up a slow tune and Fred slowly placed his arms around Harry’s waist, as Harry placed his own arms around Fred’s neck.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Fred murmured as Harry’s tightly coiled muscles started to relax beneath his arms as they swayed back and forth.

“Suppose not,” Harry mumbled, slowly laying his head on Fred’s chest in the perfect spot that seemed to be made just for Harry’s head.

“You were brilliant you know,” Fred told him. “Finding a way for us to come together? It meant a lot to me.”

“You’re okay too, I suppose.”

Fred laughed at Harry’s uncharacteristically teasing tone and watched as other couples soon joined the champions. Dumbledore led out Madame Maxine, Ginny and Neville were soon dancing beside them, and he nudged Harry to look when he saw Professor Sinistra force Professor Snape out to dance with her.

“Oh God, he’s going to kill her,” Harry chuckled. Fred winked down at Harry before loudly whistling at Snape, drawing the man’s irate eyes straight to them.

“Frederick,” he said coolly as he led Professor Sinistra towards them in his arms. “Harry,” he added much softer as he looked down at Harry, “behaving yourselves?”

“Of course sir,” Fred said with mock-solemnity.

Professor Sinistra snorted, but gave them each a bright smile.

”25 points to Gryffindor and Slytherin,” she said.

“For why?” Harry asked bewildered.

Sinistra didn’t say anything, she just glanced towards where two Beauxbaton’s girls were dancing in each other’s arms and across from them where two Ravenclaw seventh year boys were dancing as well.

Fred felt his chest swell with pride at the sight.

They’d done that. Him and Harry. They made it so other couples could dance together too. Because if nobody was going to lecture the Champion of Hogwarts for it, then they could hardly lecture the other students, could they?

“You’re amazing,” Fred told Harry in awe. “I love you.”

Fred heard Snape snort lightly, but he ignored him as he and Sinistra danced away. Harry glanced around cautiously, probably checking for anyone close enough to overhear them, then looked up at Fred, chewing his lower lip.

“Do I- I mean- do you- am I supposed to say it back?” Harry whispered. “Because... this counts as a secret, yeah? I dunno what to say right now.”

“Nope,” Fred grinned at him. “You don’t have to say anything.”

And he didn’t. Harry was starting to slowly trust Fred. He’d shared secrets with him on the night of their date. He hardly ever flinched when Fred touched him anymore. In fact, more and more Harry was the one initiating contact. Fred thought maybe Harry was starting to try and make up for the terrible life he’d had before, now that he felt safe enough to do so.

Safe enough with Fred.

Who he said was his.

So, no. Harry didn’t need to say it out loud. Fred was pretty confident in his place within Harry’s life now.

Harry slowly returned his smile and they danced together until the last chord of the current song ended.

“Wanna get a drink?” Harry yelled over the loud pop song that played next.

“Yeah.”

Fred followed Harry as he quickly led them away from the crowd of bodies that were jumping around like a bunch of sugar crammed firsties. Harry steered them towards Susan and Johnny, who were standing with Draco and Luna beside the table covered with punch bowls and dainty little crystal glasses.

“Having fun?” Fred asked them, clapping Johnny on the shoulder.

“I think what I need is one more damned pureblood to curl their nose at my suit and my night would be perfect,” Johnny drawled.

“Drakey, wanna do the honors?” Fred grinned.

“My name is not ‘Drakey’,” Malfoy sneered. “And I happen to like that suit, even if it is Muggle.”

“Imagine your Dad hearing that,” Harry smirked as he handed Fred a drink.

“I think it’s wonderful you’re different from your father,” Luna said in her typically airy voice. “You’d be terribly annoying otherwise.”

Malfoy sputtered while the rest of them laughed at the implied insult.

“Ooh, this is a great song,” Luna declared when the song shifted again. Malfoy gave her a fond smile of exasperation.

“Do you want to go dance?” he asked.

“Yes please,” Luna beamed up at him and let him lead her out towards the dance floor. Fred saw how Harry was warily eyeing the packed crowd and knew he wouldn’t want to dance. He didn’t offer, just in case Harry thought it meant he did.

“Photo for the Daily Prophet?”

The four of them turned and saw a squat man grinning toothily at them and clutching a camera. Fred rolled his eyes as the man seemed torn between watching Harry with nothing short of amazement and drooling at Susan’s exposed legs.

“We’d love to, right Harry?” Susan winked at Harry before she draped herself on Johnny’s arm. Fred wrapped his arm around Harry’s waist and was surprised when Harry stretched up to kiss him as the camera went off.

“Thanks,” the man grunted before wandering off towards Dumbledore and Madame Maxine.

“Wouldn’t it be wicked if they posted that on the front page?” Fred laughed. “Just: ‘The Boy Who Lived and his boyfriend with their Muggle dressed mate and the niece of the DMLE’. People would lose their minds.”

“If anyone can change people’s minds about what tradition should mean, it’s Harry,” Susan said seriously.

“What’s that mean?” Harry asked curiously. “Like change the rules about bringing a date to the ball?”

“It’s more than just the ball,” Fred said. “It’s like...” he looked around the room while he tried to find a way to explain it. “It’s like him,” Fred pointed at the Ravenclaw boy he saw dancing earlier. “Charles Rastiff. He came out in fifth year, and his parents kicked him out. He was homeless for part of that summer, until his boyfriends family let him move in.”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now?” Harry bristled. “What- they just made him sleep on the fuckin’ streets because of it?”

“It happens more than you think,” Susan said. “My aunts had to help a lot of magical children find places to stay because their families wouldn’t accept them.”

“Fuck that. I’ll be right back.”

Fred, Johnny, and Susan exchanged bemused looks as Harry quickly disappeared.

“Where’s he going?” Fred asked.

“Probably to kill Rastiff’s parents,” Johnny smirked. Susan shrugged, but Fred wouldn’t doubt it if Johnny was right.

The three of them watched the other students as they danced until Harry came strutting back up to them with a smug smirk on his face.

“Where’d you go?” Susan asked him.

“You’ll see,” Harry said evasively. “I’m bored. I can’t believe Draco and Blaise go to balls every year, this is terrible.”

“You guys wanna liven this party up?” Johnny grinned.

Harry still looked bored, but Fred saw his eyes light up as he looked at Johnny.

“What d’ya have then?” he asked.

Johnny reached in his suit trousers pocket and pulled out the neck of a bottle of alcohol.

“It’s vodka,” he said. “Won it off a Durmstrang kid in a duel.”

“Brill,” Harry said admiringly. Fred didn’t think Johnny was necessarily someone Harry should be admiring, because Johnny was trouble. But he did think that a little alcohol might be just the trick to make this night more interesting.

“Harry do your weird magic shit and put up a privacy shield real quick,” Johnny said.

Harry rolled his left wrist and effectively hid them from onlookers even as he scowled.

“It’s not ‘weird magic shit’,” he said. “You’re just jealous you can’t do it.”

“Dreadfully,” Johnny winked as he handed out the crystal glasses he’d just filled to the brim with vodka. “Cheers mate.”

Harry dispelled the shield and they all clinked their glasses together before taking long sips.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry sputtered. “That’s disgusting.”

“Tastes better when you mix it with something,” Johnny shrugged.

“Doubt it,” Susan muttered.

“Let’s make it a game,” Fred said. “How about every time Neville steps on Ginny’s feet we take a drink.”

“Or every time Ron checks the color of Parvati’s dress to make sure it’s the right date,” Susan grinned.

“Or every time someone comes up to talk to Harry,” Johnny added.

“Oh so we’re getting really drunk?” Harry asked. “Brill. Game on.”



The four of them were well on their way to utter intoxication within the next hour. Most of their drinks came from random students who brazenly came up and asked Harry to dance with them.

“Noooo,” Harry drawled rudely at the seventh request. “Fuck, are you blind?”

Fred, who thought vodka must be a bit stronger than firewhisky, lost his mind as the dejected Slytherin girl skunk away.

“You’re a menace,” Johnny laughed. “Just an absolute menace to society, Potter.”

“Ta,” Harry murmured as he looked around the room. He suddenly stiffened slightly as his eyes stopped on something.

“Look whose here,” he murmured. The rest of them all turned and looked in the direction where Harry’s eyes were set. Fred and Susan grinned slyly at each other as they saw Ludo Bagman chatting with Percy on the other side of the Hall. Johnny looked confused, but he didn’t miss the malicious look on Susan’s face either.

“We should go say hello,” Susan murmured.

“It would be polite,” Fred said brightly.

“Let’s do it,” Harry said.

“Wait!” Susan yanked on Harry’s arm and stared right in his eyes for a long moment. “What’s the worst possible scenario?”

“From saying hi?” Harry shrugged. “Snape see’s me, assumes I’m doing something mad, and yells at me.”

“No cursing him,” Susan said, somehow stern despite the alcohol coursing through her veins. “Nothing impulsive.”

Harry squinted at her suspiciously for a moment before he nodded and yanked his arm from her grasp.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “I mean, a bit drunk,” he laughed. “But I don’t feel like I’m flying, do I?”

Johnny looked at Fred and raised a quizzical brow at that odd statement. Fred just lifted one shoulder in silent confusion. Harry sometimes said odd things though, that wasn’t unusual. Fred would just add it to his list of questions he’d eventually ask Harry.

“Let’s go then,” Susan linked her arm with Harry, forcing Fred to follow behind them with Johnny as they led the way to Bagman and Percy.

“Hello,” Susan called sweetly when they got close. “How are you Mister Bagman?”

Bagman had turned eagerly, then flinched heavily when he saw Susan and Harry arm in arm right in front of him. Fred had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. It really was a riot how terrifying the pair of them were. Even though Harry had grown quite a bit recently, he was still one of the shortest and scrawniest blokes in his year. And Susan was all feminine curves with deceptively innocent teal eyes. And they’d made a grown man flinch just from saying hello.

The long jagged scar on Bagman’s cheek probably had something to do with it as well though.

“Fine,” Bagman said with a nervous glance towards Percy, who was actually glaring at Fred. “H-How are you? Enjoying yourselves?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry raised his glass in a mock toast towards Bagman. “We were just talking about how much we’re looking forward to the second task.”

“Yes well...” Bagman’s comically wide eyes flitted from Harry to Susan to Johnny, who had picked up enough of the aura to stare balefully back at him with hooded eyes, before coming to a rest on Fred. “I’ll see you then,” he said as he looked back to Harry. “Before the task, like last time?”

“Brill,” Harry said, with only the slightest slur to his voice. “See that you do.”

Susan giggled and clutched on to Harry as Bagman quickly excused himself.

“You’re scary,” she breathed, sounding incredibly drunk. “Just... just a scary little thing.”

“‘M not little,” Harry said. “You’re little.”

Fred sighed at the childish argument between them then grimaced in annoyance once he noticed Percy watching them with a disapproving look.

“It’s called having fun Weasley,” Johnny sneered, also noticing Percy’s face. “You should try it.”

Percy adjusted his glasses and peered closely at their group.

“Have you been drinking?” he asked loudly. Too loudly. “Fred, I’ll be writing our mother if so.”

“You do that Perky,” Harry grinned. “Suppose you just have tons of proof then, yeah?”

“I can smell it on your breath,” Percy said.

“On my breath, duhh,” Harry laughed. “Dunno why you’d write Molly about me drinking though. But feel free to go tattle to Snape.”

Percy scowled, clearly out of his depth when it came to arguing with Harry.

Join the club, Fred thought gleefully.

“I might just do that,” Percy said stiffly. “I’m sure he’d like to know his child is consuming liquor underage at a school sanctioned event.”

“Go then,” Harry nodded his head towards wherever he thought Snape must be. “Snape’ll be real impressed. Might give you a point to Gryffindor.”

“I’m not a student,” Percy grit out, his red ears giving away his annoyance.

“You’d think you’d be more mature then,” Susan said with faux-surprise. “Shame.”

Johnny chuckled and eyed Susan with frank admiration, the same look Fred was probably giving Harry.

Those two were lethal together.

“I will be writing our mother and informing her of the company you keep,” Percy said as he looked at Johnny‘s suit, Susan’s dress, and the way Harry was wobbling the slightest bit. “It’s disgusting Fred.”

Fred was about to pull his wand out, when Harry beat him to it.

CRACK!

The nearby students fell silent as everyone in their vicinity turned to see Percy clutching his newly broken nose as Harry glared at him, his right fist clenched tight and his messy black hair crackling with anger.

“Say it again,” Harry said, the slur now gone as he voice turned to ice. “I dare you.”

“Whoops,” Fred saw McGonagall trying to push through the crowd and grabbed Harry carefully. “Time to go love.”

Harry surprisingly let Fred pull him quickly towards the exit to the decorated gardens, glaring over his shoulder at a shocked to silence Percy the whole time.

“We’ll catch you later,” Johnny winked as he pulled Susan in a different direction.

Fred was absolutely not going to ask what they had planned.

“Damn, I forgot my drink,” Harry said morosely as soon as they stepped out in to the cool moonlit garden.

“You’re a maniac,” Fred laughed. “You just hit my brother and you’re worried about your drink? Merlin.”

Harry glanced up at him and shrugged.

“Well I’m not gonna apologize,” he said stoutly. “He called us disgusting, didn’t he? He’s lucky my magic doesn’t listen well when I’m drunk.”

Fred wrapped a steadying arm around Harry and set them off along one of the rosebush lined paths.

“This is nice,” Harry said. “I thought since I was done flying that tonight would be terrible, but it’s been fun really.”

“Getting drunk, being harassed by fans, and fighting with Percy really made your night, huh?” Fred laughed.

“Threatening Bagman was good too,” Harry said. “And dancing with you wasn’t terrible. Even if there were too many people watching.”

“Nobody’s watching out here,” Fred winked and opened his arms in an invitation. “Would you care to dance with me Mister Potter?”

“Alright then,” Harry laughed and stepped closer.

Fred thought he could have spent the rest of the night out there, dancing with Harry in the dimly lit gardens.

So of course someone had to ruin it.

They had only been swaying together for a short time when they heard a 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 can’t 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 Harry and Fred on the path ahead. Karkaroff looked slightly discomposed to see them standing there. Which made sense, since Harry said he was the vote against changing the rules for the Yule Ball.

“Dancing,” Fred said quickly, hoping Harry would keep quiet so Snape didn’t catch the alcohol on his breath. “We’ll just go inside then.”

“Stop.” Snape stared at Harry for a long moment before he sighed in the same way Fred’s mum did when he and George blew something up. “Have you been drinking and fighting Harry?”

“No sir,” Harry said slowly. “Not I.”

Fred ducked his head to avoid laughing outright.

‘Not I’, Harry was a riot.

“So it was a different Harry Potter that struck Percy Weasley in the nose? And who that same Weasley informed me reeked like alcohol?” Snape said acerbically.

“I imagine a lot of people would like to pretend to be Harry, he’s very famous you know,” Fred said seriously.

“Detention. Both of you,” Snape said. “Bed. Now. Separate ones.”

“Yes sir,” Harry saluted Snape rather sloppily and smirked at Karkaroff who was watching their interaction with a frown. “G’night then.”

Fred wiggled his brows annoyingly at Karkaroff before following Harry back in the castle.

“I suppose this is the end of our night Darlin’,” Fred said with a soft smile.

“Why?” Harry furrowed his brows. “I’m a bit too old for Snape to come check my bed, aren’t I? C’mon.”

Fred let Harry lead him down the dungeons and idly wondered how many times someone could fall in love with a person.

Surely there was a max.

Of course, this was Harry. And he was the master of the impossible- so maybe not.

***

The next morning when Fred, Harry, Susan, and Johnny were nursing hangovers at the Slytherin table and picking at their breakfast, Harry’s mystery errand from the night before was made clear.

“Oh my God,” Hermione began giggling like mad when she picked up the paper. “You guys!” She laid the paper flat on the table and they all tilted their heads to get a better glimpse.

And there it was.

On the front page.

Boy-Who-Lived Opens Yule Ball with Boyfriend: How the Hogwarts youth are bringing in a new era of acceptance.

And right beneath the headline was the full color photo of Susan looking stunning in her short and white tight dress, wrapped around Johnny in his sharp muggle suit and backwards cap. And beside them was Harry on a loop of leaning up to kiss Fred before turning a sparkling eyed smirk towards the camera.

“Oh, good. That cost me 20 Galleons to get published.” Fred turned a stunned face towards the most ridiculously brilliant person he’d ever met and watched as Harry took a casual sip of his coffee, as if he had no idea what this would mean to gay kids everywhere.

“Hey Mione, can I get a copy of that? I’m gonna send it to Lupin,” Harry said.

Frederick Fabian Potter, Fred decided as Hermione duplicated the paper for Harry.

There were plenty of Weasley’s anyway.

Chapter End Notes

Up Next: Bee-bopping away from canon with another quick turn. 👀

70%

Harry laid in his bed that night and thought over that statement.

He went to sleep still unsure if it had been a compliment or insult.

***

Lupin,
Write back quick- does the map ever make mistakes? Don’t give me any bullshit about how brilliant you lot were because you trusted fuckin Pettigrew, didn’t you? Just honestly- can the map be fooled?
-Harry

***

Sirius,
The Marauders Map- can it be tricked? I show up in my cloak, but is there any other reason someone would show up with the wrong name on the map? I don’t want to hear about how brilliant you think you are. I need a definite answer and I needed it yesterday.
-Harry

***

Mr Mulpepper's Apothecary Employees,
I would like to order as much gillyweed as you have in stock. I have attached a form that will automatically transfer the cost from my vault to the one for your store.
Sincerely,
Harry James Potter

***

Pup,
The map cannot be fooled.
Not by invisibility cloaks, or polyjuice,
or even animagi.
We aren’t just bragging about our brilliance,
even though it is bloody brilliant.
We spent years testing it-
then years using it.
Why the sudden questions? Is everything okay?
Are you planning something crazy? Because if so I want to know about it.
Do not plan anything crazy. Severus would kill us all if you used the map and got injured in some way.
Damnit Pup, did you tell Snape about the map? It was supposed to be a secret!
Of course he did, idiot.
If I die one day, I will be telling your father young man.
Let us know if everything’s alright.
And if you’re pulling off another scheme like the Goblet.
-Remus and Sirius.

***

Harry was distracted through his classes the morning after he read Lupin and Sirius’ letter.

The map didn’t make mistakes.

And Harry had seen Moody and Crouch together when his name had been drawn from the goblet both at the Head Table that night, and in the private chambers later.

“Draco-“ he hissed suddenly in Charms class. “The day of the first task, Crouch was judging, was Moody there too?”

“Yes, why?” Draco whispered.

“Never mind,” Harry said.

So Moody and Crouch were together at least three times.

Harry kept checking the map, and all during the day ‘Bartemius Crouch’ was teaching classes in the defense classroom.

He also checked and saw that Moody was the only dot labeled wrong. And Greg and Vince both show up without the ‘Junior’ labels that Harry knows are attached to their names. So the map doesn’t specify Junior or Senior.

Snape had said that Bartemius Crouch Junior died in Azkaban.

But he also said there was no funeral.

And Snape didn’t think Alastor Moody was ever a Death Eater, but Harry was sure that whoever was teaching their classes absolutely was at some point a follower of Timmy.

“Susan,” he asked quietly in the library during their free period that day. “Bartemius Crouch Junior, he was a Death Eater, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, glancing over hesitantly towards Neville. “A scumbag too,” she added.

Harry hummed thoughtfully.

“Was his Dad ever a Death Eater?”

Surprisingly, it was Theo who laughed at that.

“Mister Crouch? No,” he said, with no real mirth in his eyes. “He hated Dark Wizards. He used to be mad about locking up every last one of them. He went completely insane when his own son was caught.”

“He sent his son to prison?” Harry asked, surprised. He didn’t have much experience with fathers, since his was dead, but Snape was kind of like a Dad he’d guess, and that man took a murder charge for him.

When he thought about it later, he realized that his own father had actually taken a killing curse for Harry as well. Which, as unhelpful as that currently was to Harry, was still a brave thing to do.

“Yup,” Neville cut in to their conversation and his typically warm eyes were as hard as Harry had ever seen them. “He sent him straight to Azkaban, where he belonged.”

“And where he died... but didn’t have a funeral?” Harry prodded.

“Why so interested?” Blaise suddenly asked, his golden eyes sharp as he leaned towards Harry and a sly smirk playing around the edges of his lips. “Are you planning on blackmailing Crouch for some reason?”

“Never hurts to have dirt on an enemy,” Harry quipped before falling silent on the subject.

It didn’t add up.

Either the map was wrong, which Sirius and Lupin swore it wasn’t, or...

Or Harry wasn’t sure really.

When magic came in to play, there were just too many possibilities.

His leading theory, based on the fact that he had personally seen Moody and Crouch together at least twice and Draco reported a third time, was that Moody was not Crouch Senior, but Crouch Junior.

The Death Eater who supposedly died in prison, but nobody saw his body at any kind of funeral. The Death Eater son of an arsehole father who sent him to prison, and who would absolutely call Timmy the Dark Lord.

Except... Snape made it sound like him and ‘Barty’ had been close friends. They studied together, and schemed together, and joined Timmy together. So if Moody was Crouch Junior, why was he always treating Snape so rudely?

It wasn’t outside Harry’s list of possibilities that Crouch Senior was the person impersonating Moody. Just because Crouch said he hated ‘Dark Wizards’ didn’t mean he wasn’t one himself. Harry had seen lots of cops talk about hating drugs and crimes, then see them smoking pot or committing crimes themselves back in London. But the problem with that theory was that if Crouch was impersonating Moody, then who impersonated Crouch on the occasions he had been seen together?

Also- where the Hell was the real Alastor Moody? Had he been here at all this year?

That last question Harry was almost positive he had an answer for- he was certain that whichever Crouch was impersonating Moody was the same person who had done so all year. Harry considered himself to be rather perceptive when it came to people, and he was sure that he would have noticed a behavioral shift if the Moody-Impersonator had swapped out at some point within the term so far.

But really, magic was brilliant. It made life easier, and made its users special, but damn if it didn’t complicate a good mystery. And now that Harry had worked out the second task, he had tons of time to consider this newest riddle he’d been handed.



By mid-February, Harry was no closer to solving the Moody Mystery, and was beginning to grow frustrated. He kept a close eye on him during classes, to the point where his friends were growing concerned.

“Feeling alright?” Theo asked him privately after another defense class that Harry spent watching Fake-Moody’s every move (and confirming multiple times with the map that the man’s dot was still labeled Bartemius Crouch).

“Fine,” Harry said absently, still analyzing the behavior and speech pattern of Fake-Moody to try and match it to his previous appearances before Harry found him by Snape’s office a couple of weeks ago.

“Hey,” Theo snapped his fingers until Harry focused on his worried face. “Snape still hasn’t finished that potion?”

“Nope.”

“Are you flying again?”

“No?” Harry said curiously, confused why Theo was even bringing that up. “Why?”

“You’re acting off,” Theo said bluntly. “You haven’t been talking much, and you’ve been obsessed with Moody and Crouch. Are you worried about the second task or something?”

Harry cocked his head to the side as he eyed Theo for a long moment, thinking quickly.

“Which is more likely to you- someone who is supposed to be dead isn’t, or Mister Crouch is a former Death Eater pretending to be an Auror?”

“The first one,” Theo said immediately. “But I think they’re both slim odds Harry.”

“Hmm,” Harry hummed before pulling out the map and checking it again. He was so distracted by watching the man’s dot on the map that he didn’t even notice Theo’s last frown of concern before the other boy quickly ran off.



The next afternoon, Harry made his way to Snape’s classroom for his groups bi-weekly private lesson.

If it’s Crouch Senior, can he be recruited? If it’s Junior; can he be recruited or should I even try? He tortured Neville’s parents... but whoever it is is a fucking genius too. A genius with quick reflexes and who tricked the all-knowing Dumbledore himself...

Harry was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice the emptiness of the classroom he’d walked in until he was already in front of Snape’s desk.

“Oh.” Harry looked around and mentally kicked himself for letting himself get so distracted that he just walked in a room without checking it first.

He probably wouldn’t make it five days on the streets anymore at this rate.

“Sorry sir,” Harry said to Snape, who was peering up at him from his desk chair. “I could have sworn we were meeting here today.”

“We are,” Snape said. “Though I cancelled your other misfits from making their usual appearance tonight. I would like to speak with you. Sit please.”

Harry slowly sat on the edge of his seat and took his time to look over Snape’s classroom carefully. The desks were all in position, which usually Snape cleared them away before their lesson. Nobody else was here... and now that Harry thought about it, nobody had even walked down with him.

“Are you manic?” Snape asked bluntly.

“No!” Harry growled. “Fuck. Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Are you depressed? Having intrusive thoughts that are causing you hardship?”

“Nope.”

“Explain to me your recent changes in behavior then,” Snape said.

“What changes?” Harry asked. “What the fuck is going on?”

“That is what I would like to know.”

Harry ran back all his recent behavior and frowned as he tried to find the one Snape was upset about.

“I haven’t done anything,” he eventually said. “So I dunno what’s going on here.”

“You have been distracted, withdrawn, and quiet,” Snape listed of each apparent sin with a tick of his fingers. “I find myself worrying that you are ill.”

“I’m not,” Harry grit out. “Jesus. I’m just...” Harry studied Snape carefully while he tried to find a way to word his mystery without giving it away. If anyone found out about the Moody-Impersonator then they’d confront him and scare him off. And Harry wasn’t going to lose the opportunity to either recruit away one of Timmy’s followers, or have Crouch Senior arrested like he’d done to Snape.

“Do you think Mister Crouch, the one who worked at the Ministry, was ever either a Death Eater or a sympathizer?” he asked.

“No,” Snape shook his head. “I do not.”

“And you don’t think Moody was either?”

“Correct. I find the mere idea outrageous in the extreme.”

Harry frowned and tapped his foot in irritation for a moment.

“Well, I guess that’s that.”

“Will you be explaining to me your sudden obsession with Crouch and Death Eaters?” Snape asked shrewdly.

“No,” Harry slumped back in his seat. “Oh wait- I have one more question... were you and Barty friends all the way up until he supposedly died?”

“We were,” Snape said slowly. “And I have a great concern for your emphasis on the word supposedly. Harry, there is no bringing people back from the dead. You understand that, right?”

“Course,” Harry scoffed. “So there’s no reason that if Barty was here today, that he would hate you?”

“I suppose he would feel incredibly betrayed by my public shift in alliances,” Snape said in a tense sort of voice. “Harry, I only need another couple of days until your potion is ready. I wanted to ensure it had long-term safety and reacted well when consumed with other potions and spells. Can you promise me to do nothing impulsive for three more days?”

Harry narrowed his eyes at Snape’s earnest ones and scowled when he finally put the pieces together.

“I am not manic,” he sneered.

In fact, he was a genius. Because Snape just gave him the last piece of the puzzle he was almost 90% confident he’d finally solved.

“It’s just...” Harry shrugged and decided to try and tell Snape a bit of the mystery he thought he just solved. Enough so Snape would quit thinking he was having ‘an episode’, but not so much that Snape would spook off Fake-Moody before Harry could decide what to do with him.

“Someone that everyone thinks is dead, isn’t,” Harry said. “And I think that someone everyone thinks is a crusader for justice, must have been the reason the dead guy isn’t dead. But there’s also polyjuice involved. So I wasn’t sure until now.”

The way Snape watched Harry once he’d finished slowly explaining part of the mystery told him that he didn’t sound as sane as he’d hoped.

“Never mind,” Harry sighed. “You don’t even believe me.”

“I believe that you currently believe that,” Snape allowed. “But no, apologies Harry, but you sound just as you did when you believed yourself capable of winged flight.”

“Piss off,” Harry rolled his eyes and hooked his bag over his shoulder. “I’m not manic, or mad. I’m right. You’ll see.”

“Three days Harry,” Snape called as Harry stormed from the office. “Please.”

Snape could sit there and question if Harry was sane or not all night if he wanted. Harry would prove himself to be right in the end.

And in the meantime, he was going to go talk to Fake-Moody.



“Professor Moody,” Harry called, using Susan’s polite tone as he knocked on the closed office door. “It’s Harry Potter.”

“Come in,” Fake-Moody (Harry checked the map just before knocking) had growled.

Harry checked his pockets one last time and felt his dagger from Black, his pocketknife from London, and two of his silver throwing stars in his pockets and a quick touch of his wrist reassured him that his dagger from the Malfoy’s was attached securely to his arm.

Harry kept his eyes focused on Fake-Moody as he slowly slid in the office. He refused to be distracted by the gadgets and trinkets surrounding him, almost as much clutter as Dumbledore had in his office. Instead, he kept a wary eye on Moody’s hands as he clutched his dagger in his pocket.

“What can I do for you lad?” Moody grunted, both his eyes fixed on Harry.

“Hmm,” Harry rolled his shoulders as he tilted his head to study Moody. “What do you know about Mister Crouch?” he asked.

Moody raised both his gnarled brows in surprise at Harry’s question.

“Put it this way, Potter,” Moody muttered finally, “they say old Mad-Eye’s obsessed with catching Dark wizards... but I’m nothing — nothing — compared to Barty Crouch.”

“Sent his own son to prison, didn’t he?” Harry watched Moody very carefully as he said that, and-

There it is.

Moody’s right hand twitched the slightest amount. It was so slight that anyone else may have missed it, but Harry didn’t. Harry had a habit of keeping an eye on people’s hands his whole life. Your hands were the first and best weapon you had. That level of vigilance had paid off more than once in his life- and it did again today.

“He did,” Moody said.

Harry tried to imagine having a parent who would send you to prison, instead of taking a killing curse or a murder charge for you, and his mind unwillingly drew up Vernon Dursley from its depths.

“I’d suppose that any father who sent his son to prison had to be even worse at home,” Harry said slowly. “You think he was a good father?”

“Old Crouch?” Moody laughed darkly, with no real humor to be heard. “No Potter. I doubt it. The man worried so much about his career and his image that he probably didn’t give a damn about his wife or son.”

“Yeah...” Harry looked grimly at Fake-Moody-Who-He-Was-Now-95%-Confident-Was-Crouch-Junior. “Shame nobody stepped in to help his son, yeah?” he said carefully. “If I’d known someone was treating their kid so badly, I would have stopped them.”

Moody’s magic eye quickly spun around before stopping abruptly and fixing itself on Harry’s face. Neither of them said anything for a long and tense minute.

Harry thought this was one of those moments where Blaise would say the tension was so thick Harry could cut it with a knife.

“Pity for the enemy, eh? That’ll make you weak,” ‘Moody’ eventually said.

“Not pity,” Harry sneered, insulted by the very idea. “But if Barty had been one of mine I never would have let his father get away with treating him like trash.”

‘Moody’ put his elbows on his desk and leaned towards Harry with a curious light in his normal eye.

“What would you have done?” he whispered harshly. “Tortured Old Crouch? Reported him?”

“Killed him,” Harry said calmly. “I would have killed him and let Barty be free on my side.”

And he still would if it meant he could recruit this man. Because if he was right, and like he’d said, he was 95% certain he was, then this guy was every bit the genius Snape once described him as.

And Harry wanted him on his team.

***

Lupin,
I’m so sick of everything I do being a symptom of some sort.
Harry’s quiet? Must be depressed.
Harry’s trying to figure out a complicated riddle? He’s manic.
It’s bullshit.
I haven’t done much this week really, I’m working on something but I can’t tell you much about it.
I’ve got the second task all figured out already. It was actually really easy. Kinda makes me wonder what the point of the age restriction was?
Classes are fine. I ignore most of the lectures since I can already do the spells and I don’t have to take written finals anyway.
-Harry

Chapter End Notes

Up Next: Severus Snape was having a relatively good few days.
Aaaaand it’s ruined.