From Argentina, ‘94, living in México since 2k10. Accountant, Gamer, Christian. StarCraft Lore Archivist. Ravenclaw. INTP and Fiscal Conservative.
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[Crossroads, Dracaena Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronnie Weasley (1/4)]
The opening of the dance couldn’t have ended soon enough. That may had been the worse experience of Harry’s life, it was visible on his face, his body language and the way both him and Parvati Patil stepped on each other.
The formal dance would continue for a while longer, as students scattered on the sides of the Great Hall into small groups, and few more couples moved to the floor.
After enough people filled the center, Harry eventually found himself sitting with Parvati, Ronnie and Neville, at one of the tables along the edges of the dance floor. The arrangement was comfortable enough to hid how thoroughly the evening had failed their expectations.
Neville had danced with Ronnie for a piece, and neither of them had needed to pretend that there was anything more to it, they gone through the motions with some awkwardness after agreeing to attend together. Neville was perfectly pleasant company, Ronnie found that she could relax around him in a way she probably couldn’t with a boy she actually would have liked to impress. On the other hand, for him, she was just Ronnie, and in many categories she filed her in the same as Harry: One of the mates. They talked for a while and found a particular entertainment in observing the other students on the floor, commenting on spectacularly bad footwork, and mimicking the exaggerated elegance of the Beauxbatons. It was perfectly comfortable as neither of them felt any need to make it into anything else.
The same could not be said of Harry Potter. Ronnie glanced at him a few times, and noticed his distance. Parvati was pleasant, and there was nothing wrong with her as a person, but they could not sustain a conversation to save their lives, less so when Harry continued to be distracted with the sight of Cho Chang dancing with Cedric Diggory.
Ronnie would elbow his sides, and he would catch himself, force his attention back toward Parvati, and then a few moments later finding his eyes drifting away. Parvati noticed obviously. She was not offended so much as convinced there was very little point in trying to get the attention of someone that wasn’t even participating in the conversation.
Eventually a Beauxbatons student approached Parvati and she accepted his invitation to dance with an expression of unmistakable relief. Leaving Harry without either of them needed to agree that the arrangement had become miserable.
Across the Hall, Dracaena Malfoy had noticed all of that. Her own evening was rather dull. The Slytherin boy accompanying her was perfectly fine, respectable. Pure-blooded, socially adept and with a rather well-connected family. Suitable for her own family’s expectations. She didn’t particularly care for his company beyond that, her mind still drifted towards Harry Potter, who had rejected her offer days before. That fact remained lodged in her head, ever increasing her irritation all evening, and now she watched Potter sitting alone after Patil left, his attention still fixed on Chang. The entire situation was beyond insulting in its absurdity; Potter had refused her for that Patil girl, only to spend the evening looking at another girl.
The conversation that Ronnie had with Neville gradually slowed down, as the notes of the ball music continued. The initial amusement of judging people’s dancing gave way to a comfortable silence only broken by some occasional observation.
Ronnie looked once more at Harry at her side, who still wore a pained expression on his face.
Neville seemed to notice something, his eyes moved from Ronnie to Harry and back again; Ronnie saw from the corner of her eye that Neville’s expression changed into a sudden, and delighted grin. He gave her a quick wink and, keeping his hand below the table so Harry couldn’t see, gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Ronnie stared at him in confusion, having absolutely no idea what he was trying to communicate.
Neville then stood, and stretched as he had made his mind about something. He announced to both of them that he was going to find Seamus and Dean, and would see them later. As he walked away, he glanced back once more and gave Ronnie another thumbs-up, leaving her sitting there with an increasingly horrible suspicion.
Was she that obvious!?
Ronnie flushed red as he stared at the retreating Neville who looked too much pleased with himself. The possibility that she had been really that obvious all evening suddenly became unbearable. And if Neville of all people saw her, did Parvati noticed too? Did someone else around them? Or was it more than just tonight?
Did Harry?
The thought made her want to disappear under the table, but she ended up looking at him yet another time; Harry was still looking at Cho, completely unaware of the catastrophe that was her inner world. The opportunity was suddenly there, and it was painfully obvious. Ronnie was Harry’s best friend. They had spent years together, survived things that two children definitely shouldn’t have to go through. She didn’t need an excuse, clever line or a convincing explanation. She could just ask him to dance. And he would probably say yes. He had no reason to refuse, and the thought should had been reassuring, but…
What if he did say no?
It was ridiculous, there was no reason for it, but she couldn’t stop thinking on it, it made her frightening to formulate the words. If Harry rejected a dance because he was tired, distracted or wanted to simply stay, maybe Ronnie could survive it. But what if he looked at her with a weirder out expression, and asked “Why?”, in some manner that made it clear that she was never even considered. Of course he wouldn’t want to hurt her, she knew that. Worse still, what if he saw through her? What if he made an expression that showed only pity for her? She would have to confront the fact that may have been there all along: Perhaps he didn’t feel that close with her, as she did with him.
Across the Hall, Dracaena reached almost exactly the same conclusion, she could ask him.
She knew how to get under his skin, how to provoke him, hot to challenge him into doing something simply because refusing her would feel like losing. She knew harry well enough to understand which buttons to push. She had learned how turn their hostility into action.
The rejection before was a fluke, a miscalculation, and there was no obstacle this time.
Yet, she was rejected once. It was still fresh and it stings her. She approached him believing that she was giving him a life-saving opportunity, in her mind he would had been flustered, perhaps he would have an amusing mix of anger and gratefulness. But he dismissed her with casual cruelty, and walking back after that had taken every bit of Malfoy composure she could gather.
The dance floor continued turning in front of them, couples moving under the floating candle lights, while music filled the Great Hall.
Ronnie only had to speak.
Dracaena only had to stand up.
Should Ronnie Weasley have the jabot or not? I'm reminded that Ron did modify (as he could) his dress robes, so would Ronnie use it?
🤖 Made with AI
["Crossroads" (part 4 of 4), "You Are Very Welcome"
Dracaena Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronnie Weasley]
Ronnie was making her best impression of a corner plant when she finally saw Harry approaching back to her table. She could see in his expressions how tense he still was even after parting from Dracaena, she had seen glimpses of him and Malfoy through the spectating crowd, but eventually she lost him from sight. Ronnie knew he didn’t like being the center of attention, she imagined the floor had taken a toll in him.
He remained thoughtful even after his eyes stopped looking around and found her eyes. His face took its time to change as he walked, but he allowed his back to relax.
Ronnie’s gaze was inquisitive, she tilted her head, but he only responded with a shake of his head, he tried to convince her that nothing was wrong, and a softening of his eyes with a small smile raising up was his attempt to settle the matter, although the smile didn’t quite reach high as normal. Yet she wanted to believe him, that the interruption of Malfoy did not change a thing. She found herself responding with a timid smile. Despite herself, Ronnie felt relieved, it was absurd, but they could still have these silent conversations, she didn't have to wonder if they were in the same frequency.
He took the final step, standing in front of her, and he extended his hand. She wondered if it was because Harry had read the emotions on her face, the same way Neville had before, that he then offered the dance now. But just as Ronnie was gathering her courage to finally take his hand, convincing herself that whatever happened didn’t change a thing for them, a new music had started.
Behind in memory was the regal and dignified waltz, the wizard rock replaced all of that with its strength, intensity and ridiculous lyrics with overstated magical references. Ronnie looked at Harry, a sincere smile appeared on the both of them, purer and without reserves. She jumped off her seat and as she ran towards the floor, she took the extended hand that was intended for a different rhythm and she pulled him towards the center of the Hall. They rushed through as did most of the students that had sat through the formal section of the Ball. She felt comfortable at last, a very simple feeling, they could just be Ronnie and Harry, the best friends they had been for four years.
Together on the dance floor, with the beat washing over them, time just seemed to move in slow motion, the rapid movements that their bodies made were imprecise, free. They badly imitated the moves from students that actually knew what they were doing, they could shake their hips and spin each other. Ronnie’s Victorian dress was badly suited for the high energy of rock, but it didn’t stop her from raising the skirt with one hand and keep the other tightly holding Harry’s, who hold to her doing his best to keep her from falling as they bumped with the dancing people around them.
The night still seemed to pass too fast, what she wanted to last forever only lasted a couple of hours. The music slowed down, and with it, the group of friends retreated back from the floor. The implicit intimacy proved too much for many. Couples remained all around them, boys and girls suddenly approaching each other, their hands were drawn together. A Beauxbatons pair next to them danced forehead to forehead. A little bit away Ronnie saw Hermione with Viktor Krum, her hands intertwined behind the seeker’s neck. The energy in the atmosphere was charged in ways that Ronnie couldn't dismiss. She claimed to want another butterbeer, releasing his hand and quickly escaping the floor.
Harry had followed after her. They were now standing next to their table, but didn't get to sit down as she downed the last of the pint. With only the sight of couples in the dance floor, they turned at each other, and he was the first to nod towards the exit. Of course he had known. She nodded back in response, the tightness in her chest loosening as they turned to retreat from the Great Hall.
The corridors were cold. The warmth of the dancing people disappeared, and Ronnie felt a chill. She instinctively sought and held on to Harry’s arm, and they marched together towards the Gryffindor Tower. The music slowly died out in the distance behind them. They were in no hurry to arrive, and as they continued to move through the castle they were playfully pushing each other, swaying left and right from one side of the corridors to another.
The common room was nearly empty, only two Gryffindor girls still in their formal dresses were whispering about near the chimney. They continued advancing and without a thought started to move upstairs, Harry suddenly stopped on the third step and she looked up to him, confused.
“Oh, right…” Ronnie muttered, her fingers opened and freed his arm. She took a step down the stairs backwards and caught the hem of her dress under her shoe. Harry was slightly too late to catch her, but she managed to hold herself on the wall. She let out a chuckle and returned to the base of the stairs.
“Good night?” Harry offered, unsure.
But Ronnie quickly clarified. “Ah, um, no! Don’t sleep yet, just let me change, I’ll be right there.”
“Um, sure, I’ll wait up, but knock before you enter..!” Harry replied to the girl, who was already moving up the other set of stairs.
Not too long after Ronnie was already laying down on Harry’s bed, her hands resting on her stomach as she stared at the ceiling. Her pajamas wore the green and yellow colors of the Holyhead Harpies. She glanced to her right side, there was another Gryffindor in the room with them, the boy was sleeping two beds away, and she could only barely see the silhouette of the boy in the dark. Beyond the year three and below that weren’t invited, most of the Gryffindors were yet to return from the after-Ball party. No doubt losing them house points with whatever mischief they were involved in. She then turned her head to her left, Harry was sitting on the floor close to her, his head resting on the mattress so she could only see the back of his black messy hair.
“Do you… do you think you’ll be fine in the next… task?” She asked.
“I have two months, I’ll figure the egg-thing before then.”
“Yeah…” She responded, pensive. That they would put Harry against a dragon in the first event was terrifying, and she couldn’t imagine what else could come next.
“Don’t you trust me?” Harry asked.
While the thought of him dancing with Dracaena made her heart sting a little she nevertheless agreed.
“… I… I do.” She replied stuttering, she disliked it so much she repeated it with more conviction. “I do. You’ll survive it, and I know you can win it all. We… faced worse things together, haven’t we?”
“We have, yes. But I always had you before, and Hermione… but this time…” His words hanged in the air.
“You are not alone, Harry, you still have us!” Hurried to say Ronnie.
“I know that, I meant that…”
“Yes, we can’t help you in the tasks, but we’ll help with what we can, we’ll help you prepare and all that… At least I will, considering that Hermione is now fraternizing with the enemy.” Ronnie said dramatically.
Harry let out a small laugh. “You should give her a break, I’m sure is not like that.” Ronnie couldn’t see him as he said that, but she could picture his smile.
“But still, thank you, Ronnie.” He lifted his head from the mattress and turned to look at her, their eyes locked. “Really, thank you.”
They both smiled earnestly.
“You are very welcome, Harry Potter.” Ronnie sounded very pleased with herself saying so.
When he turned around again and laid his head back into place, she moved her hand from her stomach and reached down towards Harry’s head. She ruffled his hair as she had done countless of times before, his hair was always messy and he refused to comb it so she didn’t feel guilty for ruining it a bit. This time, she did not pull her hand away.
Her fingers moved slowly through his hair, smoothing it down again, gently. He had let it grow a little more than he had years before. She absentmindedly started to stroke his hair, her fingertips running down his scalp as gently as she could.
The minutes passed slowly, and she started to hear that his breath had deepened. His head had tipped a little to one side. She kept her hand on his hair, keeping the movement steady. She couldn’t help but smile, the Tower was silent except for his breathing, and the simple fact that she was allowed to stay like this, with her fingers resting in his hair, with him asleep, made her so happy she had to hold herself still.
The door opened with a big ruckus, Ronnie jumped on a panic, barely catching herself before rolling off the bed and hitting the ground. Seamus came in first, already singing. Behind him Dean and Neville, walking with each other’s arms over their shoulders, squeezed through the door together and joining in the singing. Ronnie moved out of the bed and remained rigid standing as she saw the boys enter. The other poor Gryffindor in the room sat up suddenly awake, as likely they had already woken up half the Gryffindor Tower.
Turning to look at Harry, the boy was wide eyed and had his wand firmly pointing at the door. His breathing was agitated by the sudden awakening and it looked as if took a few seconds to remember that the room had a door and friends were meant to move through it. Finally he lowered his wand.
The three boys barely noticed the raised wand to begin with, they piled in next to Harry and forced him on his feet. Making him jump with the group as they continued to sing their hearts out some love song about a wizard and a fairy. When they finally took notice that Ronnie was there, they changed their tune. They loudly started to wish her good night and sweet dreams in increasingly ridiculous voices, partly to embarrass her and partly to make it clear that they needed her to leave so they could all change.
Ronnie burst out laughing with them. Amid the chaos, Harry and Ronnie managed to exchange a final look. The smile they shared was shorter, exchanged as she hurried out the open door. Neville made a deep bow at her as he wished her a good night. Her red hair disappeared last as it waved behind her past the doorway, but her giggles continued as she hopped step by step down the stairs.
Pablo Matías Valdés 🇦🇷 retweeted
The secular, liberal, American Pope is openly denying the teachings of Christ.
["Crossroads" (part 4 of 4), "You Are Very Welcome"
Dracaena Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronnie Weasley]
Ronnie was making her best impression of a corner plant when she finally saw Harry approaching back to her table. She could see in his expressions how tense he still was even after parting from Dracaena, she had seen glimpses of him and Malfoy through the spectating crowd, but eventually she lost him from sight. Ronnie knew he didn’t like being the center of attention, she imagined the floor had taken a toll in him.
He remained thoughtful even after his eyes stopped looking around and found her eyes. His face took its time to change as he walked, but he allowed his back to relax.
Ronnie’s gaze was inquisitive, she tilted her head, but he only responded with a shake of his head, he tried to convince her that nothing was wrong, and a softening of his eyes with a small smile raising up was his attempt to settle the matter, although the smile didn’t quite reach high as normal. Yet she wanted to believe him, that the interruption of Malfoy did not change a thing. She found herself responding with a timid smile. Despite herself, Ronnie felt relieved, it was absurd, but they could still have these silent conversations, she didn't have to wonder if they were in the same frequency.
He took the final step, standing in front of her, and he extended his hand. She wondered if it was because Harry had read the emotions on her face, the same way Neville had before, that he then offered the dance now. But just as Ronnie was gathering her courage to finally take his hand, convincing herself that whatever happened didn’t change a thing for them, a new music had started.
Behind in memory was the regal and dignified waltz, the wizard rock replaced all of that with its strength, intensity and ridiculous lyrics with overstated magical references. Ronnie looked at Harry, a sincere smile appeared on the both of them, purer and without reserves. She jumped off her seat and as she ran towards the floor, she took the extended hand that was intended for a different rhythm and she pulled him towards the center of the Hall. They rushed through as did most of the students that had sat through the formal section of the Ball. She felt comfortable at last, a very simple feeling, they could just be Ronnie and Harry, the best friends they had been for four years.
Together on the dance floor, with the beat washing over them, time just seemed to move in slow motion, the rapid movements that their bodies made were imprecise, free. They badly imitated the moves from students that actually knew what they were doing, they could shake their hips and spin each other. Ronnie’s Victorian dress was badly suited for the high energy of rock, but it didn’t stop her from raising the skirt with one hand and keep the other tightly holding Harry’s, who hold to her doing his best to keep her from falling as they bumped with the dancing people around them.
The night still seemed to pass too fast, what she wanted to last forever only lasted a couple of hours. The music slowed down, and with it, the group of friends retreated back from the floor. The implicit intimacy proved too much for many. Couples remained all around them, boys and girls suddenly approaching each other, their hands were drawn together. A Beauxbatons pair next to them danced forehead to forehead. A little bit away Ronnie saw Hermione with Viktor Krum, her hands intertwined behind the seeker’s neck. The energy in the atmosphere was charged in ways that Ronnie couldn't dismiss. She claimed to want another butterbeer, releasing his hand and quickly escaping the floor.
Harry had followed after her. They were now standing next to their table, but didn't get to sit down as she downed the last of the pint. With only the sight of couples in the dance floor, they turned at each other, and he was the first to nod towards the exit. Of course he had known. She nodded back in response, the tightness in her chest loosening as they turned to retreat from the Great Hall.
The corridors were cold. The warmth of the dancing people disappeared, and Ronnie felt a chill. She instinctively sought and held on to Harry’s arm, and they marched together towards the Gryffindor Tower. The music slowly died out in the distance behind them. They were in no hurry to arrive, and as they continued to move through the castle they were playfully pushing each other, swaying left and right from one side of the corridors to another.
The common room was nearly empty, only two Gryffindor girls still in their formal dresses were whispering about near the chimney. They continued advancing and without a thought started to move upstairs, Harry suddenly stopped on the third step and she looked up to him, confused.
“Oh, right…” Ronnie muttered, her fingers opened and freed his arm. She took a step down the stairs backwards and caught the hem of her dress under her shoe. Harry was slightly too late to catch her, but she managed to hold herself on the wall. She let out a chuckle and returned to the base of the stairs.
“Good night?” Harry offered, unsure.
But Ronnie quickly clarified. “Ah, um, no! Don’t sleep yet, just let me change, I’ll be right there.”
“Um, sure, I’ll wait up, but knock before you enter..!” Harry replied to the girl, who was already moving up the other set of stairs.
Not too long after Ronnie was already laying down on Harry’s bed, her hands resting on her stomach as she stared at the ceiling. Her pajamas wore the green and yellow colors of the Holyhead Harpies. She glanced to her right side, there was another Gryffindor in the room with them, the boy was sleeping two beds away, and she could only barely see the silhouette of the boy in the dark. Beyond the year three and below that weren’t invited, most of the Gryffindors were yet to return from the after-Ball party. No doubt losing them house points with whatever mischief they were involved in. She then turned her head to her left, Harry was sitting on the floor close to her, his head resting on the mattress so she could only see the back of his black messy hair.
“Do you… do you think you’ll be fine in the next… task?” She asked.
“I have two months, I’ll figure the egg-thing before then.”
“Yeah…” She responded, pensive. That they would put Harry against a dragon in the first event was terrifying, and she couldn’t imagine what else could come next.
“Don’t you trust me?” Harry asked.
While the thought of him dancing with Dracaena made her heart sting a little she nevertheless agreed.
“… I… I do.” She replied stuttering, she disliked it so much she repeated it with more conviction. “I do. You’ll survive it, and I know you can win it all. We… faced worse things together, haven’t we?”
“We have, yes. But I always had you before, and Hermione… but this time…” His words hanged in the air.
“You are not alone, Harry, you still have us!” Hurried to say Ronnie.
“I know that, I meant that…”
“Yes, we can’t help you in the tasks, but we’ll help with what we can, we’ll help you prepare and all that… At least I will, considering that Hermione is now fraternizing with the enemy.” Ronnie said dramatically.
Harry let out a small laugh. “You should give her a break, I’m sure is not like that.” Ronnie couldn’t see him as he said that, but she could picture his smile.
“But still, thank you, Ronnie.” He lifted his head from the mattress and turned to look at her, their eyes locked. “Really, thank you.”
They both smiled earnestly.
“You are very welcome, Harry Potter.” Ronnie sounded very pleased with herself saying so.
When he turned around again and laid his head back into place, she moved her hand from her stomach and reached down towards Harry’s head. She ruffled his hair as she had done countless of times before, his hair was always messy and he refused to comb it so she didn’t feel guilty for ruining it a bit. This time, she did not pull her hand away.
Her fingers moved slowly through his hair, smoothing it down again, gently. He had let it grow a little more than he had years before. She absentmindedly started to stroke his hair, her fingertips running down his scalp as gently as she could.
The minutes passed slowly, and she started to hear that his breath had deepened. His head had tipped a little to one side. She kept her hand on his hair, keeping the movement steady. She couldn’t help but smile, the Tower was silent except for his breathing, and the simple fact that she was allowed to stay like this, with her fingers resting in his hair, with him asleep, made her so happy she had to hold herself still.
The door opened with a big ruckus, Ronnie jumped on a panic, barely catching herself before rolling off the bed and hitting the ground. Seamus came in first, already singing. Behind him Dean and Neville, walking with each other’s arms over their shoulders, squeezed through the door together and joining in the singing. Ronnie moved out of the bed and remained rigid standing as she saw the boys enter. The other poor Gryffindor in the room sat up suddenly awake, as likely they had already woken up half the Gryffindor Tower.
Turning to look at Harry, the boy was wide eyed and had his wand firmly pointing at the door. His breathing was agitated by the sudden awakening and it looked as if took a few seconds to remember that the room had a door and friends were meant to move through it. Finally he lowered his wand.
The three boys barely noticed the raised wand to begin with, they piled in next to Harry and forced him on his feet. Making him jump with the group as they continued to sing their hearts out some love song about a wizard and a fairy. When they finally took notice that Ronnie was there, they changed their tune. They loudly started to wish her good night and sweet dreams in increasingly ridiculous voices, partly to embarrass her and partly to make it clear that they needed her to leave so they could all change.
Ronnie burst out laughing with them. Amid the chaos, Harry and Ronnie managed to exchange a final look. The smile they shared was shorter, exchanged as she hurried out the open door. Neville made a deep bow at her as he wished her a good night. Her red hair disappeared last as it waved behind her past the doorway, but her giggles continued as she hopped step by step down the stairs.
Best friend that feels safe like home or confident heiress that lifts you up to her level?
Or read over AO3 too: archiveofourown.org/works/94…
nitter.cf/CombatMagic94/status/2…
[Crossroads, Dracaena Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronnie Weasley (1/4)]
The opening of the dance couldn’t have ended soon enough. That may had been the worse experience of Harry’s life, it was visible on his face, his body language and the way both him and Parvati Patil stepped on each other.
The formal dance would continue for a while longer, as students scattered on the sides of the Great Hall into small groups, and few more couples moved to the floor.
After enough people filled the center, Harry eventually found himself sitting with Parvati, Ronnie and Neville, at one of the tables along the edges of the dance floor. The arrangement was comfortable enough to hid how thoroughly the evening had failed their expectations.
Neville had danced with Ronnie for a piece, and neither of them had needed to pretend that there was anything more to it, they gone through the motions with some awkwardness after agreeing to attend together. Neville was perfectly pleasant company, Ronnie found that she could relax around him in a way she probably couldn’t with a boy she actually would have liked to impress. On the other hand, for him, she was just Ronnie, and in many categories she filed her in the same as Harry: One of the mates. They talked for a while and found a particular entertainment in observing the other students on the floor, commenting on spectacularly bad footwork, and mimicking the exaggerated elegance of the Beauxbatons. It was perfectly comfortable as neither of them felt any need to make it into anything else.
The same could not be said of Harry Potter. Ronnie glanced at him a few times, and noticed his distance. Parvati was pleasant, and there was nothing wrong with her as a person, but they could not sustain a conversation to save their lives, less so when Harry continued to be distracted with the sight of Cho Chang dancing with Cedric Diggory.
Ronnie would elbow his sides, and he would catch himself, force his attention back toward Parvati, and then a few moments later finding his eyes drifting away. Parvati noticed obviously. She was not offended so much as convinced there was very little point in trying to get the attention of someone that wasn’t even participating in the conversation.
Eventually a Beauxbatons student approached Parvati and she accepted his invitation to dance with an expression of unmistakable relief. Leaving Harry without either of them needed to agree that the arrangement had become miserable.
Across the Hall, Dracaena Malfoy had noticed all of that. Her own evening was rather dull. The Slytherin boy accompanying her was perfectly fine, respectable. Pure-blooded, socially adept and with a rather well-connected family. Suitable for her own family’s expectations. She didn’t particularly care for his company beyond that, her mind still drifted towards Harry Potter, who had rejected her offer days before. That fact remained lodged in her head, ever increasing her irritation all evening, and now she watched Potter sitting alone after Patil left, his attention still fixed on Chang. The entire situation was beyond insulting in its absurdity; Potter had refused her for that Patil girl, only to spend the evening looking at another girl.
The conversation that Ronnie had with Neville gradually slowed down, as the notes of the ball music continued. The initial amusement of judging people’s dancing gave way to a comfortable silence only broken by some occasional observation.
Ronnie looked once more at Harry at her side, who still wore a pained expression on his face.
Neville seemed to notice something, his eyes moved from Ronnie to Harry and back again; Ronnie saw from the corner of her eye that Neville’s expression changed into a sudden, and delighted grin. He gave her a quick wink and, keeping his hand below the table so Harry couldn’t see, gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Ronnie stared at him in confusion, having absolutely no idea what he was trying to communicate.
Neville then stood, and stretched as he had made his mind about something. He announced to both of them that he was going to find Seamus and Dean, and would see them later. As he walked away, he glanced back once more and gave Ronnie another thumbs-up, leaving her sitting there with an increasingly horrible suspicion.
Was she that obvious!?
Ronnie flushed red as he stared at the retreating Neville who looked too much pleased with himself. The possibility that she had been really that obvious all evening suddenly became unbearable. And if Neville of all people saw her, did Parvati noticed too? Did someone else around them? Or was it more than just tonight?
Did Harry?
The thought made her want to disappear under the table, but she ended up looking at him yet another time; Harry was still looking at Cho, completely unaware of the catastrophe that was her inner world. The opportunity was suddenly there, and it was painfully obvious. Ronnie was Harry’s best friend. They had spent years together, survived things that two children definitely shouldn’t have to go through. She didn’t need an excuse, clever line or a convincing explanation. She could just ask him to dance. And he would probably say yes. He had no reason to refuse, and the thought should had been reassuring, but…
What if he did say no?
It was ridiculous, there was no reason for it, but she couldn’t stop thinking on it, it made her frightening to formulate the words. If Harry rejected a dance because he was tired, distracted or wanted to simply stay, maybe Ronnie could survive it. But what if he looked at her with a weirder out expression, and asked “Why?”, in some manner that made it clear that she was never even considered. Of course he wouldn’t want to hurt her, she knew that. Worse still, what if he saw through her? What if he made an expression that showed only pity for her? She would have to confront the fact that may have been there all along: Perhaps he didn’t feel that close with her, as she did with him.
Across the Hall, Dracaena reached almost exactly the same conclusion, she could ask him.
She knew how to get under his skin, how to provoke him, hot to challenge him into doing something simply because refusing her would feel like losing. She knew harry well enough to understand which buttons to push. She had learned how turn their hostility into action.
The rejection before was a fluke, a miscalculation, and there was no obstacle this time.
Yet, she was rejected once. It was still fresh and it stings her. She approached him believing that she was giving him a life-saving opportunity, in her mind he would had been flustered, perhaps he would have an amusing mix of anger and gratefulness. But he dismissed her with casual cruelty, and walking back after that had taken every bit of Malfoy composure she could gather.
The dance floor continued turning in front of them, couples moving under the floating candle lights, while music filled the Great Hall.
Ronnie only had to speak.
Dracaena only had to stand up.
Pablo Matías Valdés 🇦🇷 retweeted
"I know what people see when they look at Harry. He's famous, he's good at Quidditch, he's always saving everyone, and he makes it look as though nothing can touch him. But that's not how it is.
He suffered a great deal. You only heard some of how the Dursleys were with him. I still get angry thinking about the things he told us, and I don't think he told us all of what they put him through."
"Ron..."
"Just let me finish. If you are not serious, if this is just you fulfilling your dream of dating the famous "Boy-Who-Lived" then drop it now. He is more than that, Ginevra, he is Harry first."
"You dropped the nickname, huh. You are serious"
"Dead serious."
Harry Potter: Magic Awakened is such an enchanting (heh~), charming (hehe~) and cute game.
I'm honestly fascinated with it~
¿Me pregunto cómo estarán los católicos?
Los católicos:
La pena de muerte es inadmisible porque atenta contra la inviolabilidad y la dignidad de la persona. El bien común puede protegerse y los requisitos de la justicia pueden salvaguardarse sin recurrir a la pena capital: ya se han desarrollado sistemas penitenciarios eficaces que protegen a los ciudadanos y, al mismo tiempo, no privan por completo a los culpables de la posibilidad de redimirse. #NoDeathPenalty
["Crossroads" (part 3 of 4), "Just a Piece"
Dracaena Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronnie Weasley]
Malfoy turned around and started to walk with supreme grace, the thought of stay standing exactly where he was passed through Harry’s mind but he decided against it immediately. He stared at the back of Dracaena’s head determined to not give her the satisfaction of turning back and seeing him looking anywhere else. She had such a presence in the floor that people instinctively moved to give her room, almost afraid that touching the lady would be taken as an offense.
When she finally looked at Harry again, she had a poised expression, all aspects of her typical sneer or arrogance gone for the moment, the fair skin and steel-grey eyes of hers demanded admiration he could not stop himself from giving her. Even he had to admit how incredibly beautiful she could be when she wasn’t acting like a spoiled brat or a bully. Harry blinked, waking up from the illusion.
A new piece was starting when he took a final step that brought him close to her at the proper distance. Her confident stance was absolute and he made an unconscious attempt to match it. She took half a step towards him and he searched her hands with his, without looking away from his eyes, she grabbed his wrist and forced his hand on her waist. As if her waist was electrified, Harry was paralyzed, Harry forced himself to remember McGonagall instructions from the past weeks; he looked down at his feet for not even a fraction of a second.
“Don’t look down, Potter. And don’t think, just follow my lead.” Dracaena ordered in a whisper, her lips had barely moved as she said so. She didn’t wait for confirmation and just started the first steps. Harry felt himself move half a second too late and hurried to match her movement. Whatever she had meant with not thinking was lost to him. Malfoy had already started to make him dance into the simple steps that McGonagall had taught them. He tried to count under his breath, hoping that he could somehow keep track of the rhythm and not embarrass himself once again in front of the entire school and Dracaena.
“Don’t count out loud.”
Harry’s eyes focused on her again and closed his mouth. She had never stopped looking directly at him, without missing a time or step. She may be shorter than him now, but she still had that air of regal dignity that made people raise their chins to speak to her.
There was no smirk on her face, no laugh, or even the hint that she intended to tell everyone the embarrassment of counting steps out loud. She simply noticed and corrected him. Immediately, she moved his hand on her waist just slightly higher, and forced him to adjust his stance with a small movement of her own.
Harry knew his steps were awful and could feel himself hesitating before every movement. But Malfoy seemed to know exactly what mistake he was going to make before he would make it, when he turned too far, she shifted with him into a longer hop. When he spin too late she forced the movement on him like was a simple doll. When he nearly put the next step through her, she changed directions so smoothly that it looked like an intentional spin. He glanced around, expecting to see someone laughing, but the other students were looking at them with surprise, and not just because the biggest school rivals of the generation were dancing together, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were among them, but because they were apparently putting on a decent performance.
Malfoy seized his distraction, and instead of turning it into an opportunity to embarrassment she changed the tempo, moving a step away from her with a majestic spin only to return to his side. The floor was forced to open up for them, and the couples dancing around them give them room, as if they were the main display.
Harry felt how Dracaena moved again and Harry followed, he began to understand that she was doing something far more complicated than simply knowing how to dance. There was no pause in her movement when he hesitated, no exaggerated correction that would make it obvious to everyone that she was carrying him through the routine. She incorporated his mistakes into her own, giving him another opportunity to get the next one right. Despite the unsettling sensation that it was Malfoy doing this, someone that for the last four years would have seized every small weakness and announce it.
As he became aware of more people watching, he noticed that he wasn’t nervous. There was something quite different to the notice people took of him for simply being Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and being noticed for dancing, dancing with Dracaena Malfoy of all people, and looking good while doing it. He looked back at her; her silver eyes seldom had stopped watching his expressions, he couldn’t suppress a smile, timid, almost nonexistent, almost. He was enjoying himself. Her eyes that were glaring at him, softened somewhat.
He realized, to his own surprise, that he was no longer waiting for the dance to end. The thought was so absurd that he almost laughed. Four years of arguments, insults, bitter competitions and constant irritation had taught him to expect almost anything from her. Yet here he was, moving with her as the music flowed around them, aware that people were still watching and, for once, he didn’t feel particularly bothered by it. There was something satisfying about the way the room seemed to have changed around them. Now, he found himself wishing the ten minute piece would last a few moments longer.
Malfoy seemed to notice a change in the music. Her movement became smaller and more deliberate as the distance between them closed. Harry followed them almost automatically now. Her hand moved from his shoulder to his neck, her expression was unusually difficult to read. There was now some of the familiar confidence that he knew from before as her lips curved just barely up.
“On Summer vacations, come with me.”
Harry rushed the next step, while Dracaena compensated without issue. He stared at her, he frowned expecting a punchline, but she continued with complete calm, her whispers were just enough that only he could listen, and her lips moved so softly that no one could read them.
“My family organizes a ball at the manor, and I believe you will find many interesting people there, Potter. Inventors, Quidditch players…” She paused for a second, as she studied his face. “Aurors.” They locked eyes as she tilted her head just barely; her exposed neck became just a bit more revealed as her hair fell to the opposite side.
“The ball is private and there won’t be any press. You don’t have to tell your friends.”
He understood then how well Dracaena knew him. The offer was more than tempting, meet and talk with specifically the people he wanted to learn more about or perhaps even leave a door open for his future.
What’s more she didn’t tell him to keep it a secret; she simply left the decision in his hands, could he really keep it to himself? He considered how much of his life always occurred with Ronnie and Hermione present, but he felt guilty from considering otherwise, to keep just a bit for himself. He could imagine both of them would have serious questions about the invitation, the ball or Lucius’ hand in it. Looking back at Malfoy, she had perfectly serene expression; she wouldn’t let him study her feelings on the matter at all. He had plenty of questions, but he didn’t know how to formulate them in a way that she couldn’t hid lies in half truths. It took a few more seconds for the obvious answer to “why?” to arrive in his head. Just having Harry Potter was the point. She had said it herself, in a way. He was Harry Potter, and now even Champion of Hogwarts. The other invited would likely want to meet him as well.
The piece reached its conclusion around them, and he noticed he had stopped consciously dancing for a while now; he simply had let her take control as the waltz reached its conclusion. Malfoy slowly parted from him as the last note ended, her fingertips just barely touching across the side of his neck as they retreat. Her composure remained serene as though nothing unusual had happened at all. Her silver eyes remained firmly on his for another moment before she dipped into a graceful curtsy.
He had no answer to give her, yet she gave Harry no time to react before she straightened and turned her back to him, leaving him to his thoughts and his decision entirely to himself.
-----
Dracaena did not look back, she resisted the temptation. She was certain he was watching her.
She kept walking, maintaining the same measured posture until the dance floor was behind her and the crowd had hidden her out of his sight. Only then did she allow herself a single thought that she would have never otherwise permitted herself. She didn’t know if he would accept, but that didn’t stop her. For just a moment, she imagined the ballroom at Malfoy Manor.
The polished floor, the chandeliers, the music echoing beneath the high ceiling. His hand would be extended toward her this time.
She allowed herself the smallest of smiles. Perhaps it would not be so bad.
From the start~
nitter.cf/CombatMagic94/status/2…
[Crossroads, Dracaena Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronnie Weasley (1/4)]
The opening of the dance couldn’t have ended soon enough. That may had been the worse experience of Harry’s life, it was visible on his face, his body language and the way both him and Parvati Patil stepped on each other.
The formal dance would continue for a while longer, as students scattered on the sides of the Great Hall into small groups, and few more couples moved to the floor.
After enough people filled the center, Harry eventually found himself sitting with Parvati, Ronnie and Neville, at one of the tables along the edges of the dance floor. The arrangement was comfortable enough to hid how thoroughly the evening had failed their expectations.
Neville had danced with Ronnie for a piece, and neither of them had needed to pretend that there was anything more to it, they gone through the motions with some awkwardness after agreeing to attend together. Neville was perfectly pleasant company, Ronnie found that she could relax around him in a way she probably couldn’t with a boy she actually would have liked to impress. On the other hand, for him, she was just Ronnie, and in many categories she filed her in the same as Harry: One of the mates. They talked for a while and found a particular entertainment in observing the other students on the floor, commenting on spectacularly bad footwork, and mimicking the exaggerated elegance of the Beauxbatons. It was perfectly comfortable as neither of them felt any need to make it into anything else.
The same could not be said of Harry Potter. Ronnie glanced at him a few times, and noticed his distance. Parvati was pleasant, and there was nothing wrong with her as a person, but they could not sustain a conversation to save their lives, less so when Harry continued to be distracted with the sight of Cho Chang dancing with Cedric Diggory.
Ronnie would elbow his sides, and he would catch himself, force his attention back toward Parvati, and then a few moments later finding his eyes drifting away. Parvati noticed obviously. She was not offended so much as convinced there was very little point in trying to get the attention of someone that wasn’t even participating in the conversation.
Eventually a Beauxbatons student approached Parvati and she accepted his invitation to dance with an expression of unmistakable relief. Leaving Harry without either of them needed to agree that the arrangement had become miserable.
Across the Hall, Dracaena Malfoy had noticed all of that. Her own evening was rather dull. The Slytherin boy accompanying her was perfectly fine, respectable. Pure-blooded, socially adept and with a rather well-connected family. Suitable for her own family’s expectations. She didn’t particularly care for his company beyond that, her mind still drifted towards Harry Potter, who had rejected her offer days before. That fact remained lodged in her head, ever increasing her irritation all evening, and now she watched Potter sitting alone after Patil left, his attention still fixed on Chang. The entire situation was beyond insulting in its absurdity; Potter had refused her for that Patil girl, only to spend the evening looking at another girl.
The conversation that Ronnie had with Neville gradually slowed down, as the notes of the ball music continued. The initial amusement of judging people’s dancing gave way to a comfortable silence only broken by some occasional observation.
Ronnie looked once more at Harry at her side, who still wore a pained expression on his face.
Neville seemed to notice something, his eyes moved from Ronnie to Harry and back again; Ronnie saw from the corner of her eye that Neville’s expression changed into a sudden, and delighted grin. He gave her a quick wink and, keeping his hand below the table so Harry couldn’t see, gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Ronnie stared at him in confusion, having absolutely no idea what he was trying to communicate.
Neville then stood, and stretched as he had made his mind about something. He announced to both of them that he was going to find Seamus and Dean, and would see them later. As he walked away, he glanced back once more and gave Ronnie another thumbs-up, leaving her sitting there with an increasingly horrible suspicion.
Was she that obvious!?
Ronnie flushed red as he stared at the retreating Neville who looked too much pleased with himself. The possibility that she had been really that obvious all evening suddenly became unbearable. And if Neville of all people saw her, did Parvati noticed too? Did someone else around them? Or was it more than just tonight?
Did Harry?
The thought made her want to disappear under the table, but she ended up looking at him yet another time; Harry was still looking at Cho, completely unaware of the catastrophe that was her inner world. The opportunity was suddenly there, and it was painfully obvious. Ronnie was Harry’s best friend. They had spent years together, survived things that two children definitely shouldn’t have to go through. She didn’t need an excuse, clever line or a convincing explanation. She could just ask him to dance. And he would probably say yes. He had no reason to refuse, and the thought should had been reassuring, but…
What if he did say no?
It was ridiculous, there was no reason for it, but she couldn’t stop thinking on it, it made her frightening to formulate the words. If Harry rejected a dance because he was tired, distracted or wanted to simply stay, maybe Ronnie could survive it. But what if he looked at her with a weirder out expression, and asked “Why?”, in some manner that made it clear that she was never even considered. Of course he wouldn’t want to hurt her, she knew that. Worse still, what if he saw through her? What if he made an expression that showed only pity for her? She would have to confront the fact that may have been there all along: Perhaps he didn’t feel that close with her, as she did with him.
Across the Hall, Dracaena reached almost exactly the same conclusion, she could ask him.
She knew how to get under his skin, how to provoke him, hot to challenge him into doing something simply because refusing her would feel like losing. She knew harry well enough to understand which buttons to push. She had learned how turn their hostility into action.
The rejection before was a fluke, a miscalculation, and there was no obstacle this time.
Yet, she was rejected once. It was still fresh and it stings her. She approached him believing that she was giving him a life-saving opportunity, in her mind he would had been flustered, perhaps he would have an amusing mix of anger and gratefulness. But he dismissed her with casual cruelty, and walking back after that had taken every bit of Malfoy composure she could gather.
The dance floor continued turning in front of them, couples moving under the floating candle lights, while music filled the Great Hall.
Ronnie only had to speak.
Dracaena only had to stand up.
Pablo Matías Valdés 🇦🇷 retweeted
Crossroads, first part.
Bonus: silly dress reference for Ronnie.
nitter.cf/CombatMagic94/status/2…
🤖 Made with AI
[Crossroads, Dracaena Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronnie Weasley (1/4)]
The opening of the dance couldn’t have ended soon enough. That may had been the worse experience of Harry’s life, it was visible on his face, his body language and the way both him and Parvati Patil stepped on each other.
The formal dance would continue for a while longer, as students scattered on the sides of the Great Hall into small groups, and few more couples moved to the floor.
After enough people filled the center, Harry eventually found himself sitting with Parvati, Ronnie and Neville, at one of the tables along the edges of the dance floor. The arrangement was comfortable enough to hid how thoroughly the evening had failed their expectations.
Neville had danced with Ronnie for a piece, and neither of them had needed to pretend that there was anything more to it, they gone through the motions with some awkwardness after agreeing to attend together. Neville was perfectly pleasant company, Ronnie found that she could relax around him in a way she probably couldn’t with a boy she actually would have liked to impress. On the other hand, for him, she was just Ronnie, and in many categories she filed her in the same as Harry: One of the mates. They talked for a while and found a particular entertainment in observing the other students on the floor, commenting on spectacularly bad footwork, and mimicking the exaggerated elegance of the Beauxbatons. It was perfectly comfortable as neither of them felt any need to make it into anything else.
The same could not be said of Harry Potter. Ronnie glanced at him a few times, and noticed his distance. Parvati was pleasant, and there was nothing wrong with her as a person, but they could not sustain a conversation to save their lives, less so when Harry continued to be distracted with the sight of Cho Chang dancing with Cedric Diggory.
Ronnie would elbow his sides, and he would catch himself, force his attention back toward Parvati, and then a few moments later finding his eyes drifting away. Parvati noticed obviously. She was not offended so much as convinced there was very little point in trying to get the attention of someone that wasn’t even participating in the conversation.
Eventually a Beauxbatons student approached Parvati and she accepted his invitation to dance with an expression of unmistakable relief. Leaving Harry without either of them needed to agree that the arrangement had become miserable.
Across the Hall, Dracaena Malfoy had noticed all of that. Her own evening was rather dull. The Slytherin boy accompanying her was perfectly fine, respectable. Pure-blooded, socially adept and with a rather well-connected family. Suitable for her own family’s expectations. She didn’t particularly care for his company beyond that, her mind still drifted towards Harry Potter, who had rejected her offer days before. That fact remained lodged in her head, ever increasing her irritation all evening, and now she watched Potter sitting alone after Patil left, his attention still fixed on Chang. The entire situation was beyond insulting in its absurdity; Potter had refused her for that Patil girl, only to spend the evening looking at another girl.
The conversation that Ronnie had with Neville gradually slowed down, as the notes of the ball music continued. The initial amusement of judging people’s dancing gave way to a comfortable silence only broken by some occasional observation.
Ronnie looked once more at Harry at her side, who still wore a pained expression on his face.
Neville seemed to notice something, his eyes moved from Ronnie to Harry and back again; Ronnie saw from the corner of her eye that Neville’s expression changed into a sudden, and delighted grin. He gave her a quick wink and, keeping his hand below the table so Harry couldn’t see, gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Ronnie stared at him in confusion, having absolutely no idea what he was trying to communicate.
Neville then stood, and stretched as he had made his mind about something. He announced to both of them that he was going to find Seamus and Dean, and would see them later. As he walked away, he glanced back once more and gave Ronnie another thumbs-up, leaving her sitting there with an increasingly horrible suspicion.
Was she that obvious!?
Ronnie flushed red as he stared at the retreating Neville who looked too much pleased with himself. The possibility that she had been really that obvious all evening suddenly became unbearable. And if Neville of all people saw her, did Parvati noticed too? Did someone else around them? Or was it more than just tonight?
Did Harry?
The thought made her want to disappear under the table, but she ended up looking at him yet another time; Harry was still looking at Cho, completely unaware of the catastrophe that was her inner world. The opportunity was suddenly there, and it was painfully obvious. Ronnie was Harry’s best friend. They had spent years together, survived things that two children definitely shouldn’t have to go through. She didn’t need an excuse, clever line or a convincing explanation. She could just ask him to dance. And he would probably say yes. He had no reason to refuse, and the thought should had been reassuring, but…
What if he did say no?
It was ridiculous, there was no reason for it, but she couldn’t stop thinking on it, it made her frightening to formulate the words. If Harry rejected a dance because he was tired, distracted or wanted to simply stay, maybe Ronnie could survive it. But what if he looked at her with a weirder out expression, and asked “Why?”, in some manner that made it clear that she was never even considered. Of course he wouldn’t want to hurt her, she knew that. Worse still, what if he saw through her? What if he made an expression that showed only pity for her? She would have to confront the fact that may have been there all along: Perhaps he didn’t feel that close with her, as she did with him.
Across the Hall, Dracaena reached almost exactly the same conclusion, she could ask him.
She knew how to get under his skin, how to provoke him, hot to challenge him into doing something simply because refusing her would feel like losing. She knew harry well enough to understand which buttons to push. She had learned how turn their hostility into action.
The rejection before was a fluke, a miscalculation, and there was no obstacle this time.
Yet, she was rejected once. It was still fresh and it stings her. She approached him believing that she was giving him a life-saving opportunity, in her mind he would had been flustered, perhaps he would have an amusing mix of anger and gratefulness. But he dismissed her with casual cruelty, and walking back after that had taken every bit of Malfoy composure she could gather.
The dance floor continued turning in front of them, couples moving under the floating candle lights, while music filled the Great Hall.
Ronnie only had to speak.
Dracaena only had to stand up.
"Fencing is an art, yes, to see a display of mastery is truly astonishing.
But more than that, it is a martial art, its design is intended for battle, for war,
A wizard with a sword in one hand a wand in another has combined attack with defense,
He does not need to cast Protego, he can deflect the adversary spell and follow up with his own in the same motion,
She needs not to concentrate on an Evanesco, if she can cut the summoned critter's head,
A wizard or witch that has mastered parry, will be able to stop curses that come from Apparated rivals, even on their blind spots.
And, young Gryffindors, now that I finally managed to grab your attention, group up in pairs if you may."
🤖 Made with AI
["Crossroads" (part 2 of 4), "Dance With Me"
Dracaena Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronnie Weasley]
Ronnie finally gathered enough courage to move. She had spent the last several minutes spinning it in her head, watching Harry sit there and wondering whether she could simply ask him to dance without making the whole thing strange. He was her best friend, surely that ought to make it easy. She had already danced with Neville, and that had been perfectly harmless, but dancing with Harry was different enough that the thought made her stomach tighten. She privately thanked Neville for the encouragement and, before she could lose her nerve again, she reached for Harry's sleeve, giving it a small, tentative pull.
"Potta'!" Malfoy spat.
"Harry-" Ronnie called at almost exactly the same moment.
The two girls looked at each other.
They blinked a few times as they stared at each other. They had been so completely absorbed in their thoughts that the other girl may as well just have apparated in the Great Hall. Dracaena was the first to recover, her cold steel-grey eyes moving down from Ronnie’s face towards the hand that was still clutching Harry’s sleeve, lingering there for a second. Whatever thoughts she had didn’t perturb her serene expression in the slightest.
Ronnie, meanwhile, helplessly felt her bravery slowly extinguish. She looked up at Malfoy from her seat, from the years of bitter disgust that they had for each other, she never saw her like this before. She was standing directly in front of the table dressed in an immaculate and perfectly fitted silver dress. Malfoy had always walked around in a proud posture but the dress made her look majestic. She looked exactly like someone who has been taught since childhood how to stand, move and bring the attention of everyone around her with ease. Ronnie became very conscious of her own wine-colored dress, she hunched down more than usual wanting nothing more than to disappear to Harry couldn’t compare them. How ridiculous she felt trying to look elegant for once.
Harry looked between them as if they were communicating telepathically and he was being left out of the conversation. They both called his name and then simply stopped talking. When he considered enough seconds had passed he attempted to speak over the silence.
“Um, wh-”
“Potter, dance with me.” Malfoy’s voice cut cleanly through his attempt. She held herself straight, chin raised. It certainly had sounded like an order. “Seeing you pathetically look over at Chang is unfit for our school and our reputation, one way or another you are still a Champion.”
Her eyes narrowed with determination, the only emotion that she let her face express. Of course, her voice was undoubtedly hers, full of the familiar contempt they were used to when she talked to Harry.
“And I will not be rejected.”
While the ‘again’ remained unsaid, Harry understood.
Ronnie froze and glanced away from Dracaena finally, setting her eyes on Harry, who was understandably out of words. She had no idea what Malfoy was planning or why she wanted to dance with Harry, but she certainly looked angry at him for some reason and was determinant, it wouldn’t take long for her to become very unpleasant quickly.
“Um, I…” Ronnie swallowed, trying to think on the words to say that would not make the situation explode. “Harry, no, you… don’t have to dance with Malfoy… it’s true that you… have to… look the part.”
She heard herself stumbling over her own words and felt pathetic, but she had to go through with it. Uncharacteristically, Dracaena allowed her to finish expressing herself.
“But you… you can dance with me.”
Malfoy's expression changed immediately, with the corner of her mouth curled into a disdainful sneer.
"Huh? Absolutely not. You will not sully our name by making a mockery of the art of dance."
"I..." Ronnie's fingers tightened slightly around Harry's sleeve. "I practiced."
"What?" Malfoy gave a short, incredulous laugh. "Two weeks of McGonagall’s classes?"
The question was delivered with such effortless superiority that Ronnie felt incapable to respond.
"I have been instructed in the arts since I was seven. Besides..." Malfoy's eyes travelled deliberately down Ronnie's wine-colored Victorian dress with pink lace on the sleeves and hems. And then back up again, taking in the second-hand dress, the uncertain posture, and the nervous expression. A small, satisfied smile appeared on her face. Turning to Harry again. "You have to think of the image of the school, what will the people say after that disastrous opening with Patil, 'Second' Champion of Hogwarts?"
Ronnie felt a knot on her stomach, Malfoy’s cruelty was nothing rare, but the actual hurtful thing was not knowing how to say that she was wrong.
“Th-that’s right… People are watching.” Ronnie’s voice had weakened, but found her way of attack. “And Harry wouldn’t want to be seen with you.”
Dracaena’s eyebrows rose, her smile dropped slightly. She stared down at Ronnie who didn’t turn away this time.
“Why do you care so much, Weasley?” Dracaena finally spoke again.
Malfoy saw as Ronnie opened her mouth, but couldn’t say a thing. It made Dracaena’s smile return, apparently finally finding something amusing about the exchange.
“It is only for a piece…” Malfoy continued, before Ronnie could answer. She began to inspect one of her fingernails just to demonstrate how the matter was beneath any serious consideration. “…or however long he wishes.”
Dracaena lowered her hand again and looked directly at Harry.
“You can do what you want after, Potter, but right now you owe me for the previous insult.”
Dracaena let the smile she used disappear from her face, she knew he was musing it over. He looked at her and he understood that she wouldn’t take it in stride. She is more than willing to start an argument, make a delightful scene; he didn’t have any desire in discovering what would happen if he rejected her again in front of everyone.
But most importantly, she knew what actually stung him. ‘Pathetically looking at Chang’, ‘Second’ Champion… right after Diggory. And, of course, setting him up as the offending party in the previous exchange. Harry Potter loved to be the hero, he couldn't handle being rude for long. So for her it was not a surprise what happened after.
Dracaena observed patiently as he glanced back to Weasley with a small apologetic look in his eyes; Malfoy suppressed the smile rising on her lips. Weasley answered him with a shrug, releasing Potter’s sleeve, Dracaena spared her not another look as the redhead sat back to become a furniture once again.
Harry turned to her, a conflicted expression adorned his face.
“Just a piece, then.” Harry said quietly, agreeing just to stop the argument.
Crossroads, first part.
Bonus: silly dress reference for Ronnie.
nitter.cf/CombatMagic94/status/2…
🤖 Made with AI
[Crossroads, Dracaena Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronnie Weasley (1/4)]
The opening of the dance couldn’t have ended soon enough. That may had been the worse experience of Harry’s life, it was visible on his face, his body language and the way both him and Parvati Patil stepped on each other.
The formal dance would continue for a while longer, as students scattered on the sides of the Great Hall into small groups, and few more couples moved to the floor.
After enough people filled the center, Harry eventually found himself sitting with Parvati, Ronnie and Neville, at one of the tables along the edges of the dance floor. The arrangement was comfortable enough to hid how thoroughly the evening had failed their expectations.
Neville had danced with Ronnie for a piece, and neither of them had needed to pretend that there was anything more to it, they gone through the motions with some awkwardness after agreeing to attend together. Neville was perfectly pleasant company, Ronnie found that she could relax around him in a way she probably couldn’t with a boy she actually would have liked to impress. On the other hand, for him, she was just Ronnie, and in many categories she filed her in the same as Harry: One of the mates. They talked for a while and found a particular entertainment in observing the other students on the floor, commenting on spectacularly bad footwork, and mimicking the exaggerated elegance of the Beauxbatons. It was perfectly comfortable as neither of them felt any need to make it into anything else.
The same could not be said of Harry Potter. Ronnie glanced at him a few times, and noticed his distance. Parvati was pleasant, and there was nothing wrong with her as a person, but they could not sustain a conversation to save their lives, less so when Harry continued to be distracted with the sight of Cho Chang dancing with Cedric Diggory.
Ronnie would elbow his sides, and he would catch himself, force his attention back toward Parvati, and then a few moments later finding his eyes drifting away. Parvati noticed obviously. She was not offended so much as convinced there was very little point in trying to get the attention of someone that wasn’t even participating in the conversation.
Eventually a Beauxbatons student approached Parvati and she accepted his invitation to dance with an expression of unmistakable relief. Leaving Harry without either of them needed to agree that the arrangement had become miserable.
Across the Hall, Dracaena Malfoy had noticed all of that. Her own evening was rather dull. The Slytherin boy accompanying her was perfectly fine, respectable. Pure-blooded, socially adept and with a rather well-connected family. Suitable for her own family’s expectations. She didn’t particularly care for his company beyond that, her mind still drifted towards Harry Potter, who had rejected her offer days before. That fact remained lodged in her head, ever increasing her irritation all evening, and now she watched Potter sitting alone after Patil left, his attention still fixed on Chang. The entire situation was beyond insulting in its absurdity; Potter had refused her for that Patil girl, only to spend the evening looking at another girl.
The conversation that Ronnie had with Neville gradually slowed down, as the notes of the ball music continued. The initial amusement of judging people’s dancing gave way to a comfortable silence only broken by some occasional observation.
Ronnie looked once more at Harry at her side, who still wore a pained expression on his face.
Neville seemed to notice something, his eyes moved from Ronnie to Harry and back again; Ronnie saw from the corner of her eye that Neville’s expression changed into a sudden, and delighted grin. He gave her a quick wink and, keeping his hand below the table so Harry couldn’t see, gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. Ronnie stared at him in confusion, having absolutely no idea what he was trying to communicate.
Neville then stood, and stretched as he had made his mind about something. He announced to both of them that he was going to find Seamus and Dean, and would see them later. As he walked away, he glanced back once more and gave Ronnie another thumbs-up, leaving her sitting there with an increasingly horrible suspicion.
Was she that obvious!?
Ronnie flushed red as he stared at the retreating Neville who looked too much pleased with himself. The possibility that she had been really that obvious all evening suddenly became unbearable. And if Neville of all people saw her, did Parvati noticed too? Did someone else around them? Or was it more than just tonight?
Did Harry?
The thought made her want to disappear under the table, but she ended up looking at him yet another time; Harry was still looking at Cho, completely unaware of the catastrophe that was her inner world. The opportunity was suddenly there, and it was painfully obvious. Ronnie was Harry’s best friend. They had spent years together, survived things that two children definitely shouldn’t have to go through. She didn’t need an excuse, clever line or a convincing explanation. She could just ask him to dance. And he would probably say yes. He had no reason to refuse, and the thought should had been reassuring, but…
What if he did say no?
It was ridiculous, there was no reason for it, but she couldn’t stop thinking on it, it made her frightening to formulate the words. If Harry rejected a dance because he was tired, distracted or wanted to simply stay, maybe Ronnie could survive it. But what if he looked at her with a weirder out expression, and asked “Why?”, in some manner that made it clear that she was never even considered. Of course he wouldn’t want to hurt her, she knew that. Worse still, what if he saw through her? What if he made an expression that showed only pity for her? She would have to confront the fact that may have been there all along: Perhaps he didn’t feel that close with her, as she did with him.
Across the Hall, Dracaena reached almost exactly the same conclusion, she could ask him.
She knew how to get under his skin, how to provoke him, hot to challenge him into doing something simply because refusing her would feel like losing. She knew harry well enough to understand which buttons to push. She had learned how turn their hostility into action.
The rejection before was a fluke, a miscalculation, and there was no obstacle this time.
Yet, she was rejected once. It was still fresh and it stings her. She approached him believing that she was giving him a life-saving opportunity, in her mind he would had been flustered, perhaps he would have an amusing mix of anger and gratefulness. But he dismissed her with casual cruelty, and walking back after that had taken every bit of Malfoy composure she could gather.
The dance floor continued turning in front of them, couples moving under the floating candle lights, while music filled the Great Hall.
Ronnie only had to speak.
Dracaena only had to stand up.
Crossroads, part 2 of 4.
nitter.cf/CombatMagic94/status/2…
["Crossroads" (part 2 of 4), "Dance With Me"
Dracaena Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ronnie Weasley]
Ronnie finally gathered enough courage to move. She had spent the last several minutes spinning it in her head, watching Harry sit there and wondering whether she could simply ask him to dance without making the whole thing strange. He was her best friend, surely that ought to make it easy. She had already danced with Neville, and that had been perfectly harmless, but dancing with Harry was different enough that the thought made her stomach tighten. She privately thanked Neville for the encouragement and, before she could lose her nerve again, she reached for Harry's sleeve, giving it a small, tentative pull.
"Potta'!" Malfoy spat.
"Harry-" Ronnie called at almost exactly the same moment.
The two girls looked at each other.
They blinked a few times as they stared at each other. They had been so completely absorbed in their thoughts that the other girl may as well just have apparated in the Great Hall. Dracaena was the first to recover, her cold steel-grey eyes moving down from Ronnie’s face towards the hand that was still clutching Harry’s sleeve, lingering there for a second. Whatever thoughts she had didn’t perturb her serene expression in the slightest.
Ronnie, meanwhile, helplessly felt her bravery slowly extinguish. She looked up at Malfoy from her seat, from the years of bitter disgust that they had for each other, she never saw her like this before. She was standing directly in front of the table dressed in an immaculate and perfectly fitted silver dress. Malfoy had always walked around in a proud posture but the dress made her look majestic. She looked exactly like someone who has been taught since childhood how to stand, move and bring the attention of everyone around her with ease. Ronnie became very conscious of her own wine-colored dress, she hunched down more than usual wanting nothing more than to disappear to Harry couldn’t compare them. How ridiculous she felt trying to look elegant for once.
Harry looked between them as if they were communicating telepathically and he was being left out of the conversation. They both called his name and then simply stopped talking. When he considered enough seconds had passed he attempted to speak over the silence.
“Um, wh-”
“Potter, dance with me.” Malfoy’s voice cut cleanly through his attempt. She held herself straight, chin raised. It certainly had sounded like an order. “Seeing you pathetically look over at Chang is unfit for our school and our reputation, one way or another you are still a Champion.”
Her eyes narrowed with determination, the only emotion that she let her face express. Of course, her voice was undoubtedly hers, full of the familiar contempt they were used to when she talked to Harry.
“And I will not be rejected.”
While the ‘again’ remained unsaid, Harry understood.
Ronnie froze and glanced away from Dracaena finally, setting her eyes on Harry, who was understandably out of words. She had no idea what Malfoy was planning or why she wanted to dance with Harry, but she certainly looked angry at him for some reason and was determinant, it wouldn’t take long for her to become very unpleasant quickly.
“Um, I…” Ronnie swallowed, trying to think on the words to say that would not make the situation explode. “Harry, no, you… don’t have to dance with Malfoy… it’s true that you… have to… look the part.”
She heard herself stumbling over her own words and felt pathetic, but she had to go through with it. Uncharacteristically, Dracaena allowed her to finish expressing herself.
“But you… you can dance with me.”
Malfoy's expression changed immediately, with the corner of her mouth curled into a disdainful sneer.
"Huh? Absolutely not. You will not sully our name by making a mockery of the art of dance."
"I..." Ronnie's fingers tightened slightly around Harry's sleeve. "I practiced."
"What?" Malfoy gave a short, incredulous laugh. "Two weeks of McGonagall’s classes?"
The question was delivered with such effortless superiority that Ronnie felt incapable to respond.
"I have been instructed in the arts since I was seven. Besides..." Malfoy's eyes travelled deliberately down Ronnie's wine-colored Victorian dress with pink lace on the sleeves and hems. And then back up again, taking in the second-hand dress, the uncertain posture, and the nervous expression. A small, satisfied smile appeared on her face. Turning to Harry again. "You have to think of the image of the school, what will the people say after that disastrous opening with Patil, 'Second' Champion of Hogwarts?"
Ronnie felt a knot on her stomach, Malfoy’s cruelty was nothing rare, but the actual hurtful thing was not knowing how to say that she was wrong.
“Th-that’s right… People are watching.” Ronnie’s voice had weakened, but found her way of attack. “And Harry wouldn’t want to be seen with you.”
Dracaena’s eyebrows rose, her smile dropped slightly. She stared down at Ronnie who didn’t turn away this time.
“Why do you care so much, Weasley?” Dracaena finally spoke again.
Malfoy saw as Ronnie opened her mouth, but couldn’t say a thing. It made Dracaena’s smile return, apparently finally finding something amusing about the exchange.
“It is only for a piece…” Malfoy continued, before Ronnie could answer. She began to inspect one of her fingernails just to demonstrate how the matter was beneath any serious consideration. “…or however long he wishes.”
Dracaena lowered her hand again and looked directly at Harry.
“You can do what you want after, Potter, but right now you owe me for the previous insult.”
Dracaena let the smile she used disappear from her face, she knew he was musing it over. He looked at her and he understood that she wouldn’t take it in stride. She is more than willing to start an argument, make a delightful scene; he didn’t have any desire in discovering what would happen if he rejected her again in front of everyone.
But most importantly, she knew what actually stung him. ‘Pathetically looking at Chang’, ‘Second’ Champion… right after Diggory. And, of course, setting him up as the offending party in the previous exchange. Harry Potter loved to be the hero, he couldn't handle being rude for long. So for her it was not a surprise what happened after.
Dracaena observed patiently as he glanced back to Weasley with a small apologetic look in his eyes; Malfoy suppressed the smile rising on her lips. Weasley answered him with a shrug, releasing Potter’s sleeve, Dracaena spared her not another look as the redhead sat back to become a furniture once again.
Harry turned to her, a conflicted expression adorned his face.
“Just a piece, then.” Harry said quietly, agreeing just to stop the argument.