The boys of the castle were quite irritated with Harry for the next few weeks as they felt they now had to live up to his standards in asking girls to the Yule Ball. Of course, Ron and Neville had also added to the bar set, but did anyone care about that? No, they all just decided to blame Harry. It actually became somewhat of a competition to see who could come up with the most attention-grabbing proposal and hardly a public gathering went by without at least someone trying to secure their date.
Naturally, Harry was very pleased with the results.
The day of the Yule Ball, there was hardly a girl in sight after noon. While Ron wondered aloud what they could possibly be doing that took so long to get ready, Harry just thanked God that he wasn't expected to put hours of preparation into his appearance because in all honesty he probably wouldn't have bothered if he was.
When the time came to go down to the dance itself, Harry spotted Luna standing at the bottom of the staircase. He supposed she was waiting for him, but she seemed quite engrossed in a discussion with the portrait next to her. Her dress also appeared to be on fire.
"Hey Luna," Harry greeted her.
"Hello Harry, you look very nice," Luna returned the greeting.
"Thank you. Is your dress supposed to be like that?" Harry asked a little uncertainly.
Luna looked down to see if anything was amiss with her outfit. "You mean the flames? Yes, yes it is. You don't like it?"
"Oh no, I do," Harry assured her. "I just wasn't sure if it was supposed to be like that and I would have felt really stupid if I complimented you on it and it turned out it wasn't intentional."
Luna looked amused. "I think even I would notice if my dress was on fire and it wasn't supposed to be, Harry."
"You never know," Harry said defensively.
"I suppose it is possible that I somehow failed to notice a flame-freezing charm," Luna agreed pleasantly. "Although the lack of a tickling sensation would normally preclude that possibility. Then again, I've never been very ticklish."
"It could happen!" Harry insisted. "Shall we go?"
"Champions, over here!" McGonagall called at that moment.
"I think that's a yes," Luna decided. "Do you think she means the dates as well."
Harry shrugged. "Probably. They really should be more clear, though."
Fleur Delacour had elected to go with Roger Davies again, most likely because Cedric (who Harry had heard had turned her down again and no one could believe he would actually do that even though he already had a girlfriend) was still with Cho. Harry saw how happy she looked and how it had taken years and Marietta literally dragging her to a therapist – Muggle, because there weren't any wizarding ones so the story had to be slightly edited – before she could be said she had come to terms with Cedric's death and hoped she wouldn't have to go through that again. She really was a nice girl, if a bit clingy. And teary, but that was understandable. Viktor, having not been able to even ask Hermione given how public Ron's asking and her acceptance had been, was with Parvati in a strange twist of fate. With any luck, he'd be more attentive than Harry had been. Then again, Ron was probably the only person who hadn't managed that feat and God knows if he did it again, Hermione would hex him. Fred had once again decided to go with Angelina and George was there with Katie.
Predictably, Luna's flames drew a lot of attention, but no one really wanted to ask. Well, not until Draco showed up.
"Potter, your dates on fire," the blonde informed him imperiously.
"And your date isn't," Harry replied. "Hello, Pansy."
Pansy nodded at him but didn't say anything.
"Does this mean you're speaking to me again?" Harry asked. Draco hadn't said a word to him since complaining that he was going to have to put some effort into the asking aspect of the Yule Ball as he was annoyed by how much trouble he was going to have to go through because – as a Malfoy – he couldn't possibly let himself be seen as inferior.
Pansy seemed to appreciate the half a dozen flying horses he'd rented out, however.
Draco shrugged. "It's been three weeks. I was actually going to hold out until New Year's, but my concern for the wellbeing of one of my fellow students spurred me to speak to you earlier than I'd planned."
Harry snorted. "I'm sure that's exactly it."
"Line up with your partner and follow me," McGonagall instructed once most of the attendees were in the Great Hall. When they did, everyone applauded their entrance. Harry just ignored it and headed to the large round table at the top of the Hall. The judges were already there: Bagman, Madame Maxime, Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Lockhart, Crouch and…Percy Weasley.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, surprised.
"As Luna is here in an unofficial capacity as your date, she asked me to fill in as representative of Salem," Percy explained. "And since I have two siblings competing, I decided it wouldn't be a bad idea."
"About that…" Fred looked decidedly nervous. "Perce, how angry is Mum about the whole Playoff thing?"
"Harry killed Mum's Howler so we haven't heard anything since being chosen," George added.
Percy seemed to consider the question. "You might not want to go home for Easter."
"That bad, huh?" Fred winced.
"This is so not fair," George complained. "George didn't even get picked."
"No," Percy acknowledged. "But do you honestly think anyone believes that if Fred entered, you didn't as well?" Percy asked, once again displaying his uncanny ability to tell the twins apart. "And even if she did believe that, you legally changed your name in order to compete."
"Yeah, well…" George said lamely.
"Interesting dress," Percy commented.
"Why thank you," Luna beamed. "So tell me…you work for Mr. Crouch, right? He mentioned you at one of our Judge meetings."
Percy immediately brightened and began talking animatedly with Luna about the Ministry. Harry idly wondered how soon it would be before the Rotfang conspiracy would come up.
Harry looked over to see Fleur criticizing the decorations to Roger Davies, who would probably be offended if he weren't so dazzled. "We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls and eef a poltergeist even entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like zat."
"Poltergeists build character," Harry spoke up.
"Build character?" Fleur repeated skeptically. "Zhey are a menace!"
"True," Harry agreed. "A character-building menace."
"I would not attend a school with a poltergeist eef you paid me," Fleur declared.
"Considering you're French, would you really be willing to attend Hogwarts either way?" Harry asked rhetorically.
Fleur's eyes narrowed. "And just what iz zhat supposed to mean? Zhat just because I am French I am not good enough for your 'Ogwarts?"
"I didn't say that," Harry tried to placate her. "But England and France have a rather…adversarial relationship, don't you think? And even if Hogwarts isn't technically in England, most of the students and staff are English."
"I suppose you are correct," Fleur conceded, looking as though the admission pained her. "And ze tacky decorating do not 'elp either. But zhen, what can you expect from ze English?"
Harry shrugged. "Our Headmaster's always been more concerned with playing politics and keeping up-to-date on what's going on in the castle than interior decorating."
" 'Keeping an eye on what goes on in zhe castle'?" Fleur repeated. " 'Ow much time could zhat possibly take?"
Harry snorted. "You'd be surprised. In fact, apart from the introduction of a bunch of foreign students, this year hasn't been too different than the previous ones."
Fleur raised an eyebrow elegantly. "What could you possibly do zhat even compares to facing down a dragon?"
Harry shrugged. "Two years ago I slew a basilisk."
"Ah, yes, what an exciting tale that was," Lockhart promptly inserted himself into the conversation. "You can read all about it in my recent book Baiting the Basilisk."
"So how are Viktor's fame lessons going?" Harry inquired politely. "I tried asking him, but he just said that he'd never thought of anything the way you did, which I guess means he's learning a lot but not very helpful as far as his progress goes."
"Oh, I'm so proud," Lockhart beamed. "Two weeks ago, he managed to make it to class on time for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts."
Harry could hardly believe it. "Did he-?"
"He did," Lockhart confirmed.
"Did what?" Roger asked absently, still staring at Fleur, who was beginning to look a little annoyed at his lack of both subtlety and blinking.
"He started carrying around signed pictures of him," Lockhart explained. "Mr.…Davies, correct?"
Roger nodded, eyes never leaving Fleur. Harry knew Roger, kind of, and he really wasn't that creepy and stalker-ish on a regular basis. Being part Veela, while it may frequently get you what you want (especially with men, lesbians, and the bisexual), had to get annoying after awhile. No wonder she went with the relatively immune Bill Weasley.
"And zhat helps?" Fleur asked. "Giving out ze signed pictures to the crowds of adoring fans that follow 'im everywhere?"
"Oh yes," Lockhart nodded. "Although in your case there's magic involved, so it may not prove as effective. It might be worth a try, however."
Fleur nodded, looking thoughtful.
----
After the food was gone, Dumbledore cleared the tables away and conjured up a set for the Weird Sisters. Harry smiled a little nostalgically. He remembered back when they'd been popular, before the Seductive Seers had struck it big a year or so after Voldemort had been vanquished.
Harry held out his hand to his date, who had actually managed to make Percy laugh a few times during dinner. Wonders might never cease, but he was pretty sure he didn't want to know. "Shall we dance?"
"As this is the champion's dance and everyone will be staring at us expectantly anyway, we might as well," Luna consented, taking his hand and moving out onto the dance floor.
"Since when do you care what other people think?" Harry teased.
"Who's to say I do?" Luna retorted. "I just feel like dancing and I happen to like this song. It's Norberta's favorite, you know."
"Crumpled-Horn Snorkacks like the Weird Sisters?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.
"Only Norberta," Luna explained. "Norbert likes the Beatles, Beethoven, and Cyndi Lauper."
"Is that so?" Harry asked, smiling.
"His taste is kind of eclectic," Luna informed him.
"But he doesn't like the Weird Sisters?" Harry repeated.
Luna shook her head. "He refuses to listen to anything that's insanely popular right now. Apparently it takes time to determine the lasting power of a group."
"He's pretty cynical for a mythical creature," Harry remarked.
Luna laughed. "As an endangered species not certain of his own lasting power, it makes sense he would be concerned about such things."
A few songs later, Luna and Harry decided to take a break and went over to where Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny were sitting, talking.
"Greetings various friends and acquaintances," Harry waved as he sat down at their table.
"Oh, I get it. I'm the 'acquaintance', right?" Ginny asked. "Because I'm not part of your exclusive quartet?"
"It's not that exclusive," Harry replied. "Neville got in."
"Yeah, your first year," Ginny pointed out.
"That's just what you get for being a year and a half younger than me," Ron said solemnly.
Ginny whacked her brother on the arm. "Prat."
"Actually, he said 'friends and acquaintances'," Neville noted. "Both of those were plural. Since Luna was already with him when he greeted us, he must not consider another one of us besides Ginny a friend."
"Why can't you all just be both my friends and associates?" Harry asked. "Since I am both acquainted with you and your friend."
"You could," Hermione told him. "If one of the definitions for 'acquaintance' wasn't 'not a close friend.' And while Ginny could count as that, we three are supposed to be your best friends."
"Just for that I think I'm nominating you as my acquaintance," Harry sniffed.
"Excuse me while I go cry," she responded dryly.
"Seriously, Hermione, when did you memorize a dictionary?" Ron teased.
"I haven't memorized one…" Hermione began, looking a little embarrassed. "Just any of the words I needed to look up at some point."
"Why do my friends hate me?" Harry wondered aloud.
"Because you go out of your way to make their lives more complicated?" Luna suggested.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Harry muttered.
"I think most people could use a little more complications in their life," Luna assured him. "But most people, sadly, are sheep. We've been over this."
Harry nodded his agreement. "So how has the dance been going for you guys?"
Hermione eyed her date. "Ron doesn't actually know how to dance, but I've read a few books on the subject and practiced with Ginny, so we're dealing."
"My feet have not been stepped on once," Ginny announced happily.
"That's setting the bar kind of low, don't you think?" Neville asked her.
Ginny shrugged. "I had to help teach Hermione and while she's decent now…my poor feet…"
"It wasn't that bad!" Hermione flushed.
"I'm just glad that Ron couldn't be bothered to ask his little sister for help or I would probably never be able to walk again," Ginny confided. "Although now at least Hermione can feel my pain."
"I'm not that bad!" Ron insisted. "But tell me…why's Percy here?"
"He's filling in for me tonight as judge since I came with Harry," Luna replied promptly. "We had a very nice conversation over dinner."
Ron looked rather gobsmacked. "About what? Don't tell me you listened to his reports about cauldron bottom thickness the whole time!"
"No, actually he's been recently promoted," Luna answered. "You should probably talk more if you had to hear that from me, by the way. We talked a little about the Ministry. He had some very interesting theories, particular regarding the Rotfang conspiracy."
"The what?" Ron asked blankly.
"It's a conspiracy theory that the Aurors and other top ministry officials are plotting to bring down the Ministry through a combination of dark magic and gum disease," Hermione explained.
Everyone stared at her incredulously.
"What?" she snapped. "Luna told me the minute she found out my parents were dentists."
"It would be quite ingenious to involve Muggles in the conspiracy to throw us off the trail," Luna said seriously. "They don't even have to be fully aware of all the details to preserve the Masquerade."
"Masquerade?" this time Neville was the one confused.
"You know, where we all of us with magic pretend that we don't exist and those without magic who know about us all ignore our existence," Luna clarified.
"Ah, that," Harry said.
Ron looked gobsmacked. "Percy has a sense of humor?"
----
After the dance was over, Harry and Luna ran into Cho and Cedric on their way back to the Ravenclaw Common Room.
"Listen, Harry…got a minute?" Cedric asked.
"I have several," Harry replied. "Why?"
"I have to talk to you…about the Playoffs. Privately," Cedric said, glancing at Luna pointedly.
Luna nodded obligingly. "Ah, yes, if you guys are going to cheat then I probably should not be here for this, even if I'm not here in my official capacity."
Cedric looked dismayed. "We're not going to cheat, I just-"
"The less I hear the better," Luna interrupted. "Come on, Cho, let's figure out what we're going to tell everyone else about being the date of a champion since I'm sure Roger didn't get anything more than eye-candy out of the experience."
Once the two girls were out of hearing distance, Cedric turned to Harry. "So…you know the second task, right?"
"I had heard rumor of such an event," Harry confirmed.
"Right, of course," Cedric said, shaking his head. "What I mean to say is…do you know anything about it?"
Harry was nearly positive that he knew more about it then Cedric did but unless he was very much mistaken, Cedric was trying to repay him.
"The bottled banshee shrieking is supposed to be some sort of clue," Harry reported. "When he first opened the eggs, George said it sounded like Percy singing and suggested that the task might involve attacking him in the shower. I think it's kind of disturbing his first thought was Percy showering, but then what do I know? I'm an orphan."
"Didn't you live with family, though?" Cedric asked.
"I did," Harry acknowledged. "Before Sirius came back from Majorca. But the thought of Dudley showering is enough to make me feel violently ill."
"I'll just take your word for that," Cedric decided. "So you have no idea how to solve the clue?"
"None at all," Harry lied. Cedric was trying to do something nice here and he had very much appreciated it last time.
"Your scar doesn't have any advice?" Cedric pressed.
Harry shrugged. "It knows I'm planning on putting doing any work on this off until the week before."
"You can still put this off but I felt I should tell you now…take a bath with it," Cedric advised. "That might help you think."
"So now we're on the subject of me bathing," Harry remarked. "What is it with all the water imagery?"
"I don't know," Cedric said neutrally. "That is strange, though. Really something to think about."
"I'm not quite sure what you mean by telling me to take a bath with the egg, but I'm sure something will occur to me. Thank you," Harry said sincerely.
Cedric just nodded and turned to go.
"Why tell me?" Harry asked suddenly.
"Why?" Cedric looked genuinely puzzled. "Well, you helped me with the first task, didn't you? I honestly don't know what I would have done if I'd been flying blind in there and you all had a plan." He paused. "Even if Krum's wasn't the most well-thought-out. It was just the right thing to do."
Harry smiled. "You're a good guy Cedric. Now again: Graveyards."
He was a pretty good sport, too. "Run like hell."