His love for Potions I ✔

Chapter 42: Yule Ball (not happy)

The first task came around before Harry realized it - Draco had been keeping him busy, what with them trying to turn each other into armchairs - and it was dragons. A letter from Sirius suggested he concentrate on his strengths and mentioned he'd tracked down who Bertha Jorkins had been - a Ministry witch murdered in Albania. Harry was more determined than ever to succeed at the first task, or at least not die, when Sirius confirmed that he'd made arrangements about Number 12.

I may not be able to be there- have to keep moving - but we'll see. Can't put details in a letter.

Harry had a persistent vision of running away to Number 12 before the holidays to hide from the dragons, but without an adult wizard there he suspected he'd just end up getting cursed again, and visions of sarcasm danced in his head.

He faced the dragon, and survived, and it was good. Things were back to normal with Ron, and somehow that meant without much discussion that things were back to normal with Draco - Draco didn't seek him out, and pale eyes didn't veer sideways indicating a side hallway they could duel in anymore.

Harry was surprised to miss it, but he'd missed Ron more.

#

Harry had a nasty shock when he realized the Yule Ball meant he was expected to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas - the first Christmas he actually wanted to go someplace else, he thought resentfully. He wrote to Sirius and received reassurances that things could still go ahead over spring break, assuming his Champion duties allowed.

Being a Champion was a pain.

And then, the day after the Yule Ball was announced, Draco Malfoy approached Hermione as they were leaving Potions and bowed politely.

"Miss Granger. May I have a word?"

Hermione looked at him strangely, but nodded.

"Privately?"

"As if we'd let you take Hermione off someplace to hex," Ron said hotly.

Draco smiled thinly.

"Very well. Miss Granger, would you do me the great honor of accompanying me to the Yule Ball?"

Harry choked. So did Ron.

Hermione said, "You know you'd have to touch me to go to the ball with me, don't you?"

"Yes," Draco said, mild as milk. "I'm aware."

"You don't like me, do you?" she asked in dawning horror.

Draco's eyes half-lidded.

"You're a very pretty girl, and anyone would be lucky to have you attend with them."

Now, everyone who knew Draco Malfoy knew he was lying, but it was at this point that Ron put his foot in it.

"Everyone knows you'd never ask Hermione! And she's going with me, aren't you, Hermione?"

"Thank you, Draco," she said very coolly. "I'd be happy to go to the Ball with you, since you were nice enough to ask."

To put it very mildly, Ron was not happy. Draco, on the other hand, seemed quite smug about the newspaper headlines that followed this invitation.