Part 7: All Hallow's Eve

I was walking through a desolate wasteland, which appeared bare and lonely to my eyes. Mist hung heavily on the atmosphere. I was thoroughly surprised that this time it wasn’t the Forbidden Forest. I walked further even faster, not having even a single clue about where I was heading. Whispers echoed on the wind. They weren’t the voice I was expecting. Then everything began to clear up as I entered an unknown area. At first I couldn’t make it out, but as the mist lifted, leaving the air thick with moisture, I realized what it really was. A graveyard.

            What is this? Where the heck am I? How…how in the world did I get here? Why…?

            Each and every question in my thoughts was answered as soon as I saw the inscription on a grave, more like a tomb, which had a Grim Reaper statue right above it.

            My eyes instantly went wide in shock.

 

Here Lies Thomas Marvolo Riddle

 

            Tom Riddle…I knew that was the real name of Lord Voldemort. I also knew that Harry had faced Voldemort in some sort of graveyard…it was this one! It had to be! Who lead me here, then…?

            There then came a raspy hiss, barely noticeable.

            “I see you made it, Drea. You look well since my servants killed your insolent parents.”

            “Why am I here?”

            “Because I wished it so. My servants, at least one of them, was clever enough to lead me to you. I wanted to speak to you one last time.”

            “Why did you have my parents killed? Why?”

            “I think you know that answer already, Drea. They were disloyal to me and went against me. You know what happened better than anyone else.”

            “What do you mean ‘one last time’?”

            “Before I kill you, my dear. You will be the last to betray me. You belong to me, as does another one of your own blood.”

            My breath caught in my throat. I went dizzy. One of my family was loyal to Voldemort? No, it couldn’t be…yet, he seemed somehow truthful.

            “My own blood? It can’t be!”

            “But it is. You know it is.”

            “But…who would do such a thing to my family and I? Tell me, you b*****d!”

            “Ask the one whom you call ‘cousin.’”

            “No…no! It can’t be! IT CAN’T!”

 

            I woke up almost instantaneously, muffling my screams into my pillow.

            How could he do such a horrible thing?

            I sat up, wiping the cold sweat from my brow. I shuddered. Voldemort had gotten inside my mind. That’s where the dreams were coming from. Him. I couldn’t believe it. I never knew, but why did he do it? Fame? Fortune? Wealth?

            All I knew was this:

            I had to ask Orin, and soon.

 

__________________________

 

            Cho woke up suddenly, still half-asleep. What woke her was some sort of groaning. She carefully lifted her eyelids that were heavy with exhaustion.

            “D-Drea? Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up in her warm bed with a concerned countenance plastered all over her face.

            Drea’s face popped up from her pillow. If one had seen her, she would’ve been barely visible except for her pale face that glowed in the silvery light of the moon. Cho could make out that her face was wet for it shined. She had been crying.

            “I-I…I’m fine. Just a…little overwhelmed right now.”

            Cho cocked her head to one side. She went over to her best friend and plopped down softly on the mattress, folding her legs Indian-style. Cho cupped her chin in her hand.

Drea turned away, but Cho quickly placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and turned her around to face her lovely warm chocolate eyes.

“Drea, you know that you can tell me anything. We’re friends, after all. That’s what friends are for.”

Drea smiled weakly, but sighed, turning that pretty smile of hers into a straight line. Cho stared into her eyes for the longest time, puzzling over what had overcome Drea. She saw something in Drea’s eyes that she had seen only a fraction before. She noticed some sort of darkness lingering behind her friendly exterior. That darkness, it seemed, began to take over. Cho had seen it before when she first met Drea, but it numbed down since then.

Cho knew that the true Drea was back. The Drea she had first met at the start of the year.

“You’re different,” was all she said. Cho drew back after she had said that.

“I know. I always have been.”

“What upset you?”

Drea exhaled a long, slow breath.

“I can’t tell you. It’s too…too hazardous. You’d be in danger.”

Cho’s eyes went wide, but she dismissed her nagging curiosity.

“Well, I won’t ask again. Knowing you, you’ll be too stubborn to tell me.”

“I wish I could, but I can’t. This is my problem and only I have responsibility for it.”

Cho nodded her head understandably. She got up and slipped back into her now cool bed. She knew well that she shouldn’t bother Drea about it. She thought about Drea and her problem until she finally drifted back off to sleep.

 

____________________

 

He gazed up at the ceiling that was decorated with floating candles and leering pumpkins. It was hard to believe that it Halloween all ready. Harry looked down at his breakfast, his brow furrowed in worry. He felt like he had been drowned somehow; not in water, but in a tsunami of emotions.

I feel so tired. I wish I hadn’t stayed up last night. I’m worried about Drea. She doesn’t seem like herself lately, or…is it just jealously? No, no…it can’t be, yet…I can’t deny my feelings for Drea. They’re just too strong, but I can’t act on them now. I’m just too overwhelmed by Sirius’s death.

Harry took a sip of his hot chocolate, which had almost lost its warmth. The liquid flowed past his lips and down his throat. It felt good as the chocolate relaxed him. He gulped more down, draining the last of it, taking a reluctant bite of his ice-cold breakfast.

I still can’t get over Drea. There’s something about her…probably some sort of Veela heritage or something. That’s what I’ve heard, but…I don’t think it’s that. There’s some sort of…pain in her eyes. Pain and heartbreak. Pain, heartbreak…sadness and loss. Must be because of her parents’ death. I can compare. She has some sort of dark aura hanging about her. I can sense it. It feels almost…alive.

“Hello, Harry,” greeted a smooth, silky voice from in front of him.

Harry felt himself practically jump out of his seat. Catching his breath, he glared right up at the person who had scared him, but stopped himself. The eyes he was staring into weren’t any normal eyes. They were a sad pale blue eyes of Drea Vela herself.

Drea was grinning at him sheepishly, but her smile didn’t seem to reach her eyes, which looked cold, dark, and barren of any feeling. He almost shivered. She towered over him, and she had placed one gloved hand on the table.

She wore fishnet gloves that extended at far as her short-sleeved black shirtsleeves. The shirt was just short enough to see a bit of her navel. A long black skirt that was the length of her ankles flowed behind her; it was fastened to her waist by an almost invisible black belt with a silver buckle connecting it. Her stomach was covered with the fishnet bottom of the shirt. Her long, luxurious black hair fell perfect and straight over her eyes and shoulders and down to her waist.

Around her neck she wore a black choker. Her black hair against the pale contrast of her skin made it glow even more eerily than before in the candlelight.

She frowned, but her eyes, nonetheless, stayed the same.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-I…uh…nothing…I…oh…it’s just that your eyes seem really different than before.”

“How so?”

“They seem…cold…and menacing.”

She slid onto the bench and placed her chin into a cupped hand, her long, graceful fingers spread over her cheek.

“I was wondering when it would come back,” Drea said more to herself than to him. She looked away with a glazed expression on her face.

“What?”

“Hmm? Oh, that. It’s just…ah, you wouldn’t get it.”

Harry leaned forward, eager to hear more.

“Tell me.”

“Oh, fine, but it’s a stupid theory, mind you.”

Drea looked off into space as she explained, closing her eyes and breathing rhymically.

“Everyone in the world is born innocent and pure, surrounded by what I call a ‘Good Light.’ A Good Light is a good being who is warm-hearted and self-less. But others aren’t always like this. Some grow out of their ‘Good Light,’ while others somehow strangely are able to maintain it. I think it’s because of who they are.

“Others are born with an aura of darkness. Some achieve it, or ‘grow’ into it. There are such people called ‘Good Darks.’ Like me, for instance. But some of these ‘Good Darks’ often attain their dark aura through some sort of tragic experience that’s left them scarred for life, no matter how small.

“You see, souls, hearts, whatever you call them, are perfect when they’re born, but when faced with something like a pet’s death, that will be etched into it forever. Everyone in this world, Muggle or not, has experienced the darkness. Some have experienced a more…um…how should I put this?…a more cold darkness.

“Some like Lord Voldemort.”

“I already know that Voldemort’s evil.”

“True, but…even the coldest and most evil of people have at least some light in their souls. Voldemort’s just been…too consumed by his own desires and selfishness.”

“Certainly makes sense. Does that…does that mean I’m a ‘Good Dark’?”

“Depends. It’s just this stupid theory I came up with months ago. I just needed to get it out.”

“Is what I see in your eyes the darkness?”

“Let’s just say that…I’m feeling a little cold right now.”

Drea got up to leave, but Harry snatched her wrist.

“What?”

“Um…nothing. See you at the ball…if you’re going, that is.”

“Oh, I’ll be there,” she said slyly.

“What are you going to be?”

“If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”

“I guess you’re right. See you around.”

Harry watched Drea saunter down the aisle and out of the Hall. Somehow, things made more sense to him after Drea had told him her thoughts.

 

_____________________________

 

That was crazy. I shouldn’t have told him that. Now I’ll regret for the rest of the day. God, what was I thinking?

I was sitting in the Ravenclaw, lounging in my favorite chair. Snuggling deeper in the blanket my Grandma had knitted for me once, I stared at the flames of the fire that were dancing and shook at even the slightest breeze. Oddly enough, it had gotten cold all of a sudden. I guess that’s England. More dreary in the weather, though. It was quiet (for once), and most of the girls upstairs were busy preparing at least five hours early. I, of course, already had my entire outfit planned and ready. It was laid out on my bed.

Dumbledore had excused today as a day off from all classes in order for the preparation for the Masquerade. I shifted to and fro, but I still managed to feel restless. Finally, I simply threw off my blanket, folding it up neatly, and exited through the portrait to take a stroll about the corridors. People rushed passed, not even bothering to watch where they went. I barely noticed.

            I had heard a rumor about that I could go into the kitchens where house-elves prepared the meals. I approached a portrait, looking around to make sure nobody saw me go in. I tickled the pear in the portrait, which was of a bowl of fruit. It chuckled and a doorknob appeared. I twisted it and the portrait opened easily. Inside, I caught a glance of house-elves darting all over the place. Once I opened the door all the way, they saw me, stopped what they were doing, and took deep bows in front of me.

            They offered me cookies, candy, cakes, and fruit, but I declined.

            “Do any of you know where an elf named Astor is?”

            “I’m right here, Mistress,” Astor called out. “What does Mistress need?”

            I wanted to sit down on the floor, but before I could, another house-elf placed a cushion underneath me.

            “Thank you.”

            “My pleasure, Miss.”

            “Anyway, Astor, why don’t you sit?”

            The other elves gasped. Astor looked hesitant, but he then sat down on the cold stone floor. I leaned forward so that he was able to hear me over the disapproving chatter of the other house-elves.

            “How have you been, Astor? Do you find things…alright here?”

            “Astor has been fine, Mistress. Things here are fine for Astor. Simply fine.”

            “Well…that’s good. I’m glad. So, so glad. I just wanted to check up on you. So…I guess I’ll be going then, okay?”:

            “Wait, Mistress…”

            Astor grabbed a handful of my clothing. I turned to face his big, blue eyes.

            “What? What’s wrong?”

            “Um…Astor has heard a whisper from some unknown source within Hogwarts. He has heard that…um…”

            “Go ahead, say it.”

            Astor scrunched up his face as if he were eating something awful.

            “He has heard that…Mistress’s blood family is bad.”

            “What do you mean by that?”

            “Can’t…say,” grunted Astor as he prepared to slap himself. I grabbed his hand before he could even take as much as a swipe.

            “I understand. Please get back to work so you won’t get in trouble. That’s the last thing I want.”

            He nodded eagerly and scurried off with the other elves. I exhaled an exhausted sigh and exited through the portrait door that I had entered minutes before.

           

            Hours later, I found myself wandering about on the grounds and eventually on the other side of the Black Lake. The squid was squirting water here and there, catching fish with its long tentacles. I sat down on the fading green lawn and hugged my knees to my chest and laid my head between the crevice in-between my legs, thinking deeply about the Masquerade and Orin.

            “He has heard that…Mistress’s blood family is bad.”

            What the heck does that mean? What does Astor know? I know that barely any of my own family is bad…though, he may be referring to my family over here in England. Does he mean that the other half of my family is loyal to Voldemort? Sure, we’re purebloods, but we have better intentions than that damn windbag. Still, I wonder if he means Orin. Both the dream I had last night and what Astor said add up. I still can’t believe it. I won’t…ever.

            “Hello, Drea,” said a voice next to me. I immediately broke away from my thoughts.

            Hermione was sitting next to me, smiling a friendly smile. I smiled back, partly grateful for her interrupting the steady flow of my thoughts.

            “Hi, Hermione. What are you doing out here?”

            “It just got irritating with all the girls in the Common Room twittering around about like a bunch of idiots. You?”

            “I just felt bored. That’s all.”

            “Me, too. There’s nothing to do around here. Say, have you studied for the Transfiguration test yet?”

            “Hermione, that’s not until the end of next month!”

            “It’s good to get started, anyway. I’ve been studying since Professor McGonagall announced the test two weeks ago.”

            I rolled my eyes and turned my eyes to the surface of the inky black lake.

            “I prefer to relax first. In a couple of weeks I just might begin to study.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Depends.”

            “Best to get started now,” she chided, wagging her index finger at me.

            “So…do you have a date for the Masquerade?”

            As I asked this, Hermione went completely flabbergasted, blushing and stuttering.

            “Well…I-I…I, uh…I don’t really…have one…”

            She trailed off removing her kind gaze from my face.

            “I was hoping that…Ron would ask me,” she whispered, bowing her head. I could tell that her cheeks were magenta.

            “But he hasn’t,” I said, clearly stating the obvious. She looked up at me and nodded slowly and sullenly.

            I placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her so that she was facing me.

            “Why don’t you ask him?”

            She appeared shock and shook slightly from nervousness.

            “Oh no…I…I couldn’t.”

            “Look, if you really like him that much, simply ask him. Nothing to it.”

            “Well…I’ll try it. Thanks, Drea,” she said, smiling as she stood up.

            I grinned back. “Glad to help.”

            I sighed as I watched Hermione practically skip to the school entrance. I turned back to my previous position. The love I felt for Neville was just a slight fondness; nothing compared to the strong attraction to Harry. What made me most attracted to him was the wistful sadness that hung upon his aura. If you’re as sensitive as I am, you can definitely feel it. Even those who aren’t able to sense auras like I can, they sure can feel something similar to it.

            But, as I thought, would he ever…well…approach me with his real feelings? It was so obvious that he felt the same as I did about him. Usually I ignored my admirers who routinely stared at me as I passed them in whatever public place I was in, but…I wasn’t able to ignore Harry. He wasn’t like normal boys who would usually flirt and touch girls to get their attention and then dump them the next minute. I knew Harry was different. He had a kind heart and soul. Anybody could tell that.

            Lastly, I thought about my entire life and again the possibility of Orin being loyal to the Dark Lord. It wasn’t possible.

            Was it?

 

            Harry looked in the mirror as he finished adjusting his bow tie-like collar. Ron was busy looking over the new dress robes Fred and George had gotten him earlier in their fifth year.

            “So, Ron…you asked Hermione to the Masquerade?”

            Ron turned to Harry, a smirk on his face.

            “Believe it or not, but she actually asked me.”

            “Huh…well, maybe one of these days you’ll actually be able to pluck up the courage to ask her. Might just be worth something for a change.”

            Harry slipped on a black hairy dog mask. The reason he’d chose it was in memory of Sirius. Ron had on an owl mask; it looked somewhat like Hedwig in a way.

            “Hey, Harry, do you know if anybody else is going to be wearing dress robes?”

            “Yeah. I saw a couple of other kids wearing costumes, though. Why?”

            “Just wondering. Harry, you taking anyone?”

            “No…didn’t get the chance to.”

            “Oh…shame. Well, come on, then. Let’s go.”

            “Alright.”

            Harry did a final adjustment to his mask so it fit comfortably and followed Ron down the dormitory stairs. Ron was pacing the floor while waiting for Hermione.

            “What’s taking her so long?”

            “She’s just probably still getting ready, Ron.”

            “Do I take that long to get ready?”

            Before Harry could answer, Hermione’s voice rang down from the entry on top of the stairs.

            “I’m coming! Coming!”

            A girl in a beautiful sparkling strapless red gown with golden wavy stripes down the skirt and floating red and gold sleeves rushed down the stairway. She had on a lioness mask that covered only the top portion of her face. With added affect, she also had a fake golden lion tail running down from her pride to the back of her knees. Her hair was straight, sleek, and as glossy as a lion’s mane.

            “Her…? Hermione? That you?”

            “Yeah. You two ready? I am.”

            “Great costume,” complimented Harry, looking her over, especially at her skirt.

            “Thanks. Oh stop staring at me like an idiot, Ronald. Let’s go!”

            Ron seemed to have just woken up from a dream.

            He nodded. “Yeah, let’s.”

            “So, Hermione, what’s with your costume?”

            “I just decided to show a little Gryffindor pride.”

            Ron stared at her and nodded his head.

            “Yeah, I can see that,” he said.

            The rest of their procession to the Great Hall was lead in silence. Not because of awkwardness, but because of some deep thinking and lots of observing on Ron’s part. Ron kept sneaking glances at Hermione, and Hermione pretended that she didn’t notice but she looked at him secretly as well. And, by some odd chance, Ron’s hand found itself laced up in Hermione’s, who turned her head away, smiling happily. Harry, of course, was too wound up in his own thoughts to notice what was happening bit by bit between Ron and Hermione.

            He was busy thinking over what Drea had said to him earlier that day at breakfast.

            “Everyone in the world is born innocent and pure, surrounded by what I call a ‘Good Light.’…Others are born with an aura of darkness… ‘Good Darks’ often attain their dark aura through some sort of tragic experience that’s left them scarred for life, no matter how small… Everyone in this world, Muggle or not, has experienced the darkness. Some have experienced a more…um…how should I put this?…a more cold darkness…Some like Lord Voldemort…”

            One of the last sentences she had said to him echoed the most in his mind.

            “…even the coldest and most evil of people have at least some light in their souls.”

            What did Drea mean? Voldemort can’t possibly be partly good, can he? It seems so impossible yet it’s so logical. He really is only human…but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m changing the way I think about him. It’s a likely possibility, though…

            Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Hall altogether. All at once, a soft waltz tantalized their ears, drawing them into the festive atmosphere. Third to seventh years were crowded everywhere, eager to get in for the dancing and for the free food. Every single student there wore something to hide his or her identity. Some boys wore dress robes while others chose to wear costumes of dull or eye-catching colors. Some were dancing a waltz while an invisible band played on a stage that had been set up. Harry suspected Flitwick had cast a charm on the instruments so that they would play by themselves.

            Rich foods and all sorts of drinks were laid out on what appeared to be a decorative satin orange and black tablecloth.

            “Oh…my! This place is…is gorgeous! I bet the Hogwarts house-elves had a hard time doing all of this.”

            “Want some food, Hermione?” offered Ron.

            Hermione grimaced. “No thank you. I think I’ll pass.”

            Ron rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath about “spew.”

            Harry paid no attention while the two argued mildly. He looked around for Drea or Neville. He knew that she was going with Neville. Harry really liked her, but he would never say so because he knew that Drea was with Neville all this time. Still, he couldn’t help but look around the room basically on instinct.

            Just then as his gaze swept over the Hall doors, he spotted someone enter.

            A boy wearing a toad mask and dark green dress robes, probably Neville, nervously held the girl’s arm, and the girl herself was most radiant in a way one wouldn’t expect. The girl had her hair up in a messy bun with tendrils of curled, straightened, and wavy hair framing what seemed like a pale face. A snow-white flower was pinned to the right side of her black hair and had a gray ribbon hanging from it. A gray cross with a thick black ribbon was encircled around her swan-like neck. She wore a black corset top with a short skirt that flowed down right below her knees.

            Though her corset top had thick spaghetti strap sleeves, white, transparent sleeves hung from the black fabric, adding a touch of elegance. She wore light black stockings and fishnet stockings over them. On her feet she wore black dancing slippers. From her back, black, feathery, almost realistic wings protruded and bounced everytime she dared take a step. A single black raccoon-like mask was all that covered the top half of her face with a few wispy violet and black feathers stuck here and there.

            Even though Neville was smiling, she wasn’t. Her face was serious as if she had just been faced with a terrible decision. Harry noticed that she was looking for someone. That someone he didn’t know.

 

            I could feel Neville’s sweat soak right through my fabric. It wasn’t all that warm in there, but I knew Neville was perspiring for another reason.

            Because he carried one of Hogwarts’s most gorgeous girls on his arm.

            Quite a few people were staring at us as we walked past. I ignored the lively atmosphere while Neville absorbed himself in it. Instead, I scanned the room for even the tiniest detail of Orin’s presence. The only problem was that everyone was masked and I couldn’t tell one person from another. Finally I rested my gaze on Neville, who was staring at me somewhat intently.

            “So…uh…what do you, uh, want to do?”

            “How about you get us some nice, cool refreshing drinks, okay? You look like you’re very hot in your robes.”

            He blushed but muttered an “okay” and shuffled off towards the buffet table. I found a table that was empty and sat down and chilled for some time. It was good to relax for once. During the last few days I barely had a moment to myself because of the fussing and scurrying around of the other Ravenclaw girls. It was really annoying. I was partly glad to be at the Masquerade because that meant it would pass by very quickly.

            “Hey, Drea,” greeted a familiar voice.

            “Hey, Harry. Enjoying yourself?”

            “Not really. Ron and Hermione are having a go at each other again.”

            “So Hermione took my advice, now did she?”

            A confused countenance passed over his covered face. He sat down next to me.

            “What do you mean?”

            “I encouraged Hermione to ask Ron to the Masquerade. Doesn’t he have the guts to ask her himself?”

            “No. Ron’s pretty much a sissy boy when it comes to girls…and,” he said, darting his emerald eyes from side to side, “also spiders.”

            “What’s wrong with that? Everybody’s afraid of something. Tell me, what are you afraid of?”

            Harry hesitated in his dog mask for a small moment but spoke nonetheless.

            “Dementors.”

            “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were. Nasty creatures, dememtors.”

            “What are you afraid of?”

            “Death, of course. Like any other human being would be. But…having my loved ones hurt is what pains me the most. But the most cursed thing I worry about is…loneliness.”

            “Loneliness? Why?”

            “I’m just afraid that I’ll…never be loved. Ever. For my entire being, of course,” I added, turning a light shade of pink. “Loneliness is what really kills you. That and hatred. Nothing good ever came from hatred. I wish I wasn’t alone,” I whispered, bowing my head so that Harry wouldn’t see the tears rolling down my flushed cheeks.

            Harry cupped my chin in his hand and turned my gaze to meet his own beautiful eyes. Harry had his mask off and looked at me with a warmth I had never seen in anybody else’s eyes who had ever looked at me. He was so…innocent that it took my breath away. His eyes held the kind of seriousness and maturity you only saw in the eyes of an adult.

            “You’re not alone,” he whispered. I felt my heart racing and the blood rushing to my cheeks. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned in to my face. I felt a joy I hadn’t felt in a long time take over my entire being.

            Please do it. Say those words. Tell me you do.

            “I got our drinks, Drea. The table was crowded. Sorry it took so long.” Just then Neville noticed Harry, who immediately pulled away and sat straight and alert in his chair. “Hey, Harry. Want a drink? I can get another one, if you’d like.”

            Harry darted up. “No thanks. I’m not thirsty. See you, Drea. Neville.”

HarHa

            I got up after him and grabbed his wrist and pulled him aside where Neville wouldn’t hear us.

            “Harry?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Thanks…for, uh, comforting me. I really appreciate it.”

            He smiled a little and nodded his head.

            “Glad to help.”

            Harry turned to leave.

            “Uh, Harry?”

            “Yeah?” he asked, swerving his head in my direction.

            “Nothing.”

            He shrugged. “Okay.”

            Harry walked away, leaving me in a state of mild depression. Why didn’t I tell him about my feelings for him? Why? But, sadly, I knew the answer to this question. I knew that if I told him my feelings for him now, I would end up hurting Neville. That’s one thing that I’d hate to do now.

            I walked back to our table in a somber state, my head hanging slightly down. Neville looked up, concerned at the expression on my face. Without asking, I knew what he meant with a single glance. I looked deeper into his eyes, and I believe he understood when he nodded his head a little. His worry for me churned the watery depths of my heart. This is the reason why I didn’t want to hurt him because he was just too…sensitive already. Too weak on the inside to bear anymore pain as is.

            We drank our punch in silence; Neville mildly fascinated by the Muggle drink. The blood-red liquid tasted like cherry on my tongue, but as it flowed down my throat, it was tasteless.

            “Drea…do you…? Do you…you know, wanna dance?” Neville asked nervously as I looked into my drink and swished it around restlessly.

            I smiled up at him.

            “Sure, why not? Might as well make the best of tonight.”

            I took the hand he had offered, and he lead me out to the dance floor in the middle of the Hall. The candles’ and lighted pumpkins’ light reflected on the shiny floor. Another waltz began ad more couples sauntered out onto the floor.

            When Neville and I first began to dance, we floated across the floor as if on a cloud. My stomach turned, not from dizziness, but from pure excitement. It had been a while since I had ever experienced such a dreamy and happy feeling. I savored it as much as possible. The waltz felt like it had been going on forever when it had just been only a few minutes. The tune ended as gently as it had begun, and we slowly stopped dancing. It was then that I realized that I was sweating. I had been so caught up in the atmosphere that I hadn’t noticed it.

            Neville and I went over to the buffet for drinks. While in the middle of regenerating from the last dance, I felt someone tap on my shoulder. I turned around to face the one and only Harry Potter. Harry was smiling brightly and had seemed to have recovered from earlier.

            “May I dance with you?”

            I turned to Neville for approval, and he nodded at me and kept drinking from his glass.

            “Yes,” I answered, gracefully taking his hand in mine and I felt Harry squeeze my hand a little. I blushed and bowed my head to hide it.

            The piano from the enchanted band played out a few soft, tinkling notes on itself. The dance began slow and gentle as Harry cautiously wrapped an arm around my waist. He hesitated as if asking permission to do this action. I reacted by nodding at him, and the arm around my waist became stronger to grasp me with. Harry took my hand in his and led us in a wavering waltz. The flute began to join in as well as a harp. The tune was like honey; I had never heard a sweeter song in my entire life.

            As Harry and I danced, he leaned in to whisper into my ear.

            “I requested this song just for us,” Harry whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear. I was immediately struck with…some sort of warmth inside of me. I suppose it had been happiness, joy, and delight all mixed in together. Whatever it was, I didn’t care. What Harry had done was one of the sweetest things he had ever done for me all the time I had ever been here at Hogwarts.

            “You…you did?” I managed to gasp out.

            “Yes…”

            “But…why?”

            “I guess I just wanted to see you smile on one of those very rare occasions on which that happens.”

            This time he was the one bowing his head and blushing. I smiled at him sweetly, taking in this entire moment of peace. It felt like it was just Harry and I, all alone here with no one watching. I stared into his eyes as he did into mine, wishing so much to lean up and kiss those sweet smiling lips of his and tell him how I really felt, but…it wouldn’t be fair to Neville. For the rest of the dance, we were silent; he seemed to be savoring my time with him as much as I was.

            Then, as quickly as it had begun, the honey-sweet waltz had ended and Harry escorted me back to my table where Neville had an almost completely eaten snack in his hand and punch in the other. I stopped Harry in a corner before Neville could see us. I smiled up at him and him at me.

            “Thank you…so much, Harry. That was really fun. I enjoyed it.”

            “So did I,” he murmured as he leaned down to softly peck my cheek. His lips were so soft against my skin. Oh, how I longed to kiss him!

            “Well…I’ll guess I’ll see you later.”

            “Yeah…enjoy the rest of the Masquerade.”

            “I will. I wish the same to you.”

            As I turned around to head back to the table, I could feel Harry’s aura pulsing with the warm feeling of love. I sighed.

 

_______________________________

           

            Harry watched as Ron twirled Hermione around to a Weird Sisters’ song. Hermione’s dress glinted and shone gold and scarlet when each and every light caught its reflection. He gazed across the room to where the Slytherins were and Malfoy was busy dealing with the bothersome attention of Pansy Parkinson. He looked to find that he was staring right at Drea, looking very lustful indeed.

            His insides boiled with anger, and Harry vowed that whatever he did, he would protect Drea always from Malfoy.

            Harry went back to thinking about dancing with Drea. He wondered if Drea liked him as much as he liked her.

            It’s not the right time to tell her. Besides, I’m too late. I already had my chance long ago and I blew it. Now she’s with Neville…I can’t just forget my feelings for her, though. Someday I’ll have to tell her and I won’t have a choice to choose.

            He tried his best to divulge himself in the lively atmosphere, but the thought of his feelings for her being untold haunted his mind for the rest of the night; he was unable to have fun without thinking of Drea.

 

            It was nearly the end of the Masquerade when the Weird Sisters halted in the middle of their song to listen to Dumbledore’s announcement.

            Dumbledore had risen his hands slowly and silence came almost immediately from all the students. He nodded only once to them all to acknowledge his approval.

            “Very good. I see you all have been having fun? I myself have been having quite the time. Professor McGonagall here is a lovely dancer!” At this, Professor McGonagall blushed madly; almost a beet red. “While we have all been having quite the time, it must end as all good things must in life. For now, it is time to take off our masks and reveal to the entire world our true identities.”

            Everyone, of course, gladly took off their masks and some flaunted their outfits to their friends. Cho searched around for Drea and found her in a melancholy state. She sighed slightly, wanting to cheer her up. She sprinted over to her and greeted Drea warmly.

            “Hey, Drea! I was wondering where you were. I love your costume!”

            Drea lifted her head and grinned without even an ounce of warmth in her expression.

            “Thanks…”

            “Okay, what’s wrong?”

            “Nothing…”

            “Don’t you think I know when my best friend’s down? Obviously, something’s wrong. Did Neville break up with you?”

            “No! I don’t know why in the world you would ever think that! Besides…if we even broke up, it would me that would do that, but seriously, he hasn’t.”

            Cho pulled up an empty chair and sat down right next to Drea.

            “Then, what’s wrong?”

            “I just…I just don’t know how to tell Harry that I feel so strongly for him without hurting Neville in the process. I just…don’t know.”

            Drea placed her head in her lap and Cho wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

            “Don’t worry. We’ll figure out something together. I’ll always be here for you if you need me.”

            She popped her head up, grinning at Cho and hugging her gratefully.

            “Thanks.”

            “Anytime.”