𓏲 . THE BOY WHO LIVED . .៹♡
                                                   CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
                  ─── DANCE PREPARATIONS & UNEXPECTED TASK

"That was excellent, Potter!"  Professor McGonagall cried as he got off the Firebolt  - which from her was extravagant praise. He noticed that her hand shook as she pointed at his shoulder. "You'll need to see Madam Pomfrey before the judges give out your score."

"Yeh did it, Charlus!"  Hagrid said hoarsely. "Yeh did it! An' agains' the Hellfire an' all, an' yeh know Charlie said that was one of the wors' —"

"Thanks, Hagrid," Charlus said loudly, so that Hagrid wouldn't blunder on and reveal that he had shown Charlus  the dragons beforehand.

Professor Moody looked very pleased too; his magical eye was dancing in its socket. "Nice and easy does the trick, Potter," he growled. "Right then, Potter, the first aid tent, please..." Professor
McGonagall said.

Charlus walked out of the enclosure, still panting, and saw Madam Pomfrey standing at the mouth of a second tent, looking worried.  "Dragons!" she said, in a disgusted tone, pulling the boy inside.

The tent was divided into cubicles. Madam Pomfrey examined Charlus' shoulder, talking furiously all the while. "Last year dementors, this year dragons, what are they going to bring into this school next? You're very lucky...this is quite shallow...it'll need cleaning before I heal it up, though..."

She cleaned the cut with a dab of some purple liquid that smoked and stung, but then poked his shoulder with her wand, and he felt it heal instantly. "Now, just sit quietly for a minute - sit! And then you can go and get your score."

Charlus didn't want to sit still. He was too full of adrenaline. He got to his feet, wanting to see what was going on outside, but before he'd reached the mouth of the tent, someone had come darting inside - Hermione.

"You scared me half to death, Charlus, but you were brilliant!" Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. "You were amazing! You really were!"

"Thank you, Mione," he said softly, pulling the girl in for a hug - for a second there, he felt like he was never going to see her again; like it might've been the end for him.

"Should we go see how many points I got?" Charlus asked after he and Hermione pulled apart. She nodded, "That's a good idea."

Picking up the golden egg and his Firebolt, feeling more elated than he would have believed possible an hour ago,  Charlus ducked out of the tent, Hermione by his side.

Now that the Hellfire had been taken away, Charlus could see where the five judges were sitting - right at the other end of the enclosure, in raised seats draped in gold.

"It's marks out of ten from each one," Hermione said, and Charlus squinting up the field, saw the first judge - Madame Maxime - raise her wand in the air. A long silver ribbon of magic shot out of it, which twisted itself into a large figure eight.

"Not bad!" Hermione said, as the crowd applauded. "I suppose she took marks off for your shoulder..."

Mr. Crouch came next. He shot a number nine into the air. "Looking good!" Hermione said excitedly, thumping her best friend on the back.

Next Dumbledore. He too put up a nine; not a ten, of course, that would be incredibly biased. The crowd was cheering harder than ever.

Ludo Bagman, however, put up a ten. "Ten?" Charlus said in disbelief. "But... I got hurt... What's he playing at?"

Hermione had smacked the boy on the back of the head as a scolding technique, "Charlus, don't complain!"

And now Karkaroff raised his wand. He paused for a moment, and then a number shot out of his wand too - four. "What?" the girl bellowed furiously. "Four? You lousy, biased scum-bag! Just wait until I get ahold of him -"

"It's fine," Charlus muttered before returning to the tent as instructed by Madame Pomfrey once again; he couldn't care less about Karkaroff's score, he wouldn't have cared if Karkaroff had given him zero; Hermione's indignation on his behalf was worth about a hundred points to him.

At the end, once all of the champions had competed, Charlus, Harry, Alistair and Krum were tied in first place with forty points, Cedric barely came second with thirty-eight points, and Fleur was right behind them with thirty-seven points; it was still anyone's game.

"Well done, all of you!" Ludo said Bagman, bouncing into the tent, and looking as pleased as though he personally had just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth - but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open... see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg - because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

Shocked at the speed Bagman spoke, Charlus left the tent with Harry and Alistair and rejoined Hermione. The four of them started to walk back around the edge of the Forest, talking hard. Since going Last, Alistair wanted to hear what the other champions had done.

Hermione spoke to a great detail, not missing out a single detail. Then, as they rounded the clump of trees behind which Charlus had first heard the dragons roar, a witch leapt out from behind them.

To their surprise, it was none other than Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.

"Congratulations, you three!" she said, beaming at the boys. ""I wonder if either of you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now about the fairness of the scoring? How does it feel to have such a faithful lover cheering for you in the stands?"

"Yeah, you can have a word," Harry said savagely. "Goodbye." "What he said," Alistair mumbled, looking at Rita Skeeter. "How about two words?" Charlus asked, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at the word 'lover'. "Fuck you."

Hermione snorted, not bothering to hide it as she all but laughed at Skeeter's incredulous face before they set off back to the castle.

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Returning to the Gryffindor common room that night was a sweet relief for Charlus after a whirlwind of emotions provoked earlier in the day.

They were in a huge celebratory mood after the results of the task had been revealed; the three young champions sat on the top of the leaderboard! Meaning, that as soon as Charlus,Harry and Alistair stepped foot into the common room that evening, they were hoisted in the air, the cheers and screams of the Gryffindors surrounding them.

"We knew you three wouldn't die!"Fred bellowed, "Lose a leg..."

George had smacked Harry's arm for indication, "Or an arm!"

Fred continued on, "But pack it in altogether?"

"Never!" The two twins shouted together, causing the crowd to go wild.

Charlus helped himself to food, as he was put back down on the floor; he had almost forgotten what it was like to feel properly hungry. He couldn't believe how happy he felt; he had gotten through the first task, and he wouldn't have to face the second one for quite awhile.

"Blimey, this is heavy,"  Lee Jordan said, picking up the golden egg, which Charlus had left on a table, and weighing it in his hands. "Open it, Charlus, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"

"He's supposed to work out the clue on his own," Hermione said swiftly, coming to his side. "It's in the tournament rules..."

"Rules were made to be broken, 'Mione," Charlus said before he moved back to the centre of the room and stood on the coffee table so everyone could see him. "Bring it here. Where are Harry and Alistair?"

Lee passed Charlus the egg as Harry and Alistair joined him on the table. "On Three." "One..." the boys counted in unison. "Two...three!"

The three of them dug their fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and pried it open. It was hollow and completely empty - but the moment they opened it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, filled the room.

The nearest thing to it Charlus had ever heard was the ghost orchestra at one of Nearly Headless Nick's deathday parties, who had all been playing the musical saw.

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears.

Quickly, Charlus slammed the egg shut again, before looking around and seeing that everyone was holding their ears in attempt to draw out the sound. "That sounded like a banshee..." Seamus said. "Maybe you've got to get past one of those next!"

"It was someone being tortured!" Neville said, who had gone very white, and spilled sausage rolls over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," George said. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing... maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, you three."

After he had said this, a familiar voice filled the room, "Bloody hell! What was that?"

Everyone looked toward the stairway that led to the boy's dormitories. It was Ron, standing there, holding his ears. His eyes were shifting uneasily between Charlus, Harry and Alistair, suddenly aware that he was in the spotlight.

"Alright everyone!"Fred said, addressing the crowd, "Go back to your knitting. This is going to be uncomfortable enough without all of you nosy sods listening in!"

As the hum of conversation resumed amongst the crowd, Charlus, Harry and Alistair got down off of the table to stand directly in front of Ron.

Alistair was glaring at the ginger boy, who was very white and staring at them as though they were  ghosts. Harry  sighed, waiting for him to say something. Charlus stood there awkwardly amongst the tension, and Hermione sat a little bit further away watching the four boys cautiously.

It was then that Ron cleared his throat before he spoke up, in the greatest apologetic tone he could muster, "I reckon you'd have to be barking mad to put your own names into the Goblet of Fire..."

"Caught on, have you?"Alistair said coldly. "Took you long enough." "I wasn't the only one who'd thought you three had done it," Ron said, trying to defend himself, "everyone was saying it behind your backs."

"Brilliant," Charlus said sarcastically, "that makes us feel loads better." "Well," Ron said quickly, "at least I warned you about the dragons!"

Harry furrowed his brows, "Hagrid warned us about the dragons."

"No, no, I did, don't you remember?" Ron inquired, "I told Hermione to tell you that Seamus told me that Parvati told Dean that Hagrid was looking for the three of you! But Seamus never actually told me anything, so it was really me all along. I thought we'd be alright, you know, after you figured that out..."

Charlus had to stifle a laugh, "Who could possibly figure that out? That's absolutely mental!" "It is, isn't it?" Ron said softly, "I suppose I was a bit distraught...."

Charlus, Harry and Alistair stood there for a moment, unaware of what to say next. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly. Charlus knew Ron was about to apologize again and suddenly he found he didn't need to hear it.

"It's okay," he said, before Ron could say anything. "Forget it." "No," Ron said, "I shouldn't've -" "Forget it," Harry said firmly, accepting his attempt at an apology as well. Then Alistair added, "It's alright."

Ron grinned nervously at them, and Charlus, Harry and Alistair grinned back; the four of them were friends once again.

Hermione had rolled her eyes from the nearby armchair, listening in on the their conversation. "Boys," she muttered in disbelief, watching the four of them crack on as if nothing had happened.

"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" Fred asked, popping up behind her. Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate he was offering them.

Fred grinned. "It's all right," he said. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch —"

Neville, who had just bitten into a custard cream, choked and spat it out. Fred laughed, "Just my little joke, Neville...."

Hermione took a jam tart. Then she said, "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?" "Yep," Fred said, grinning at her. He put on a high-pitched squeak and imitated a house-elf. "'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all' They're dead helpful... get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish."

"How do you get in there?" Hermione said in an innocentlycasual sort of voice. "Easy," Fred said, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and —" He stopped and looked suspiciously at her. "Why?

"Nothing," Hermione answered quickly. "Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" George said. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"

Several people chortled. Hermione didn't answer. "Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!"  Fred said warningly, "You'll put them off
their cooking!"

Just then, Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary. "Oh — sorry, Neville!" Fred shouted over all the laughter. "I forgot — it was the custard creams we hexed —"

Within a minute, however, Neville had molted, and once his feathers had fallen off, he reappeared looking entirely normal. He even joined in laughing.

"Canary Creams!" Fred shouted to the excitable crowd. "George and I invented them — seven Sickles each, a bargain!"

It was nearly one in the morning when Charlus finally made his way to the Slytherin common room with Alistair. The two conversed for a little bit longer before they went up to the dormitory.

Before he pulled the curtains of his four-poster shut, Charlus set his tiny model of the Ukrainian Hellfire on the table next to his bed, where it yawned, curled up, and closed its eyes.

 Really, Charlus thought, as he pulled the hangings on his four-poster closed, Hagrid had a point.. .they were all right, really, dragons....

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Over the next couple of days, Charlus, Harry and Alistair were in recovery mode. They were insisted to have daily checkups in the hospital wing after their encounter with the dragons, which Charlus didn't mind much as it got him out of his classes most days.

Things were seemingly better than ever. Ron was back on good terms with Charlus, Harry and Alistair which ultimately made their small friend group feel like it had been made whole again.

After dinner one day, Charlus, Harry , Alistair and Ron made their way back to the Gryffindor Tower. The four of them had tried to look for Hermione but after seeing she wasn't in the Library they didn't know where to look next.

"Balderdash."

But the Fat Lady had barely begun to swing forward when the sound of racing feet behind them announced Hermione's arrival.

"Charlus!" she panted, skidding to a halt beside him (the Fat Lady stared down at her, eyebrows raised). "Charlus, you've got to come - you've got to come, the most amazing thing's happened - please -"

She seized the boy's arm and started to try to drag him back along the corridor. "What's the matter?" Charlus said. "I'll show you when we get there - oh come on, quick -"

Charlus looked around at Harry, Alistair and Ron; they looked back at Charlus intrigued. "Okay," Charlus said, starting off back down the corridor with Hermione,  Harry, Alistair and Ron hurrying to keep up.

"Oh don't mind me!" the Fat Lady called irritably after them. "Don't apologise for bothering me! I'll just hang here, wide open, until you get back, shall I?"

"Sorry!" Alistair yelled as he tried to keep up with Hermione's pace. "Yeah, thanks!" Ron shouted over his shoulder.

"Hermione, where are we going?" Charlus asked, after she had led them down through six floors, and started down the marble staircase into the entrance hall.

"You'll see, you'll see in a minute!" Hermione said excitedly. Harry rolled his eyes, "You know it'd be a lot easier if you just told us."

She ignored Harry, turned left at the bottom of the staircase and hurried toward a door. Charlus had never been through here before. He, Harry, Alistair and Ron followed Hermione down a flight of stone steps, but instead of ending up in a gloomy underground passage like the one that led to Snape's dungeon, they found themselves in a broad stone corridor, brightly lit with torches, and decorated with cheerful paintings that were mainly of food.

"Oh hang on..." Harry said slowly, halfway down the corridor. "Wait a minute, Hermione...." "What?" She turned around to look at him, anticipation all over her face.

"I know what this is," Harry said. He nudged Alistair and Ron and pointed to the painting just behind Hermione. It showed a gigantic silver fruit bowl.

"Hermione!" Ron said, cottoning on. "You're trying to rope us into that spew stuff again!" "You dragged us down here to free the elves—?"

"No, no, It's not that!" she said hastily. "And it's not spew, Ron —"

"Changed the name, have you?" Ron said, frowning at her. "What are we now, then, the House-Elf Liberation Front? I'm not barging into that kitchen and trying to make them stop work, I'm not doing it —"

"I'm not asking you to!" Hermione said impatiently. "I came down here just now, to talk to them all, and I found — oh come on, Charlus, I want to show you!"

She seized his arm again, pulled him in front of the picture of the giant fruit bowl, stretched out her forefinger, and tickled the huge green pear. It began to squirm, chuckling, and suddenly turned into a large green door handle. Hermione seized it, pulled the door open, and pushed Charlus hard in the back, forcing him inside, as Harry and Alistair followed.

Charlus had one brief glimpse of an enormous, high-ceilinged room, as large as the Great Hall above it, with mounds of glittering brass pots and pans heaped around the stone walls, and a great brick fireplace at the other end, when something small hurtled toward them from the middle of the room, squealing, "Charlus and Harry Potter, sirs! Alistair Black, sir!"

Next second all the wind had been knocked out of him,Harry and Alistair as the squealing elf hit them hard in the midriff, hugging them so tightly that their ribs could break.

"D-Dobby?" Harry gasped just as Charlus excitedly said, "Dobby!"

"It is Dobby, sirs, it is!" the voice squealed. "Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Charlus and Harry Potter and Alistair Black, sirs, and Charlus and Harry Potter and Alistair Black have come to see him, sirs!"

Dobby let go and stepped back a few paces, beaming up at them, his enormous, green, tennis-ball-shaped eyes brimming with tears of happiness. He looked almost exactly as Charlus remembered him from the last time he'd seen him almost two years ago; the pencil-shaped nose, the bat-like ears, the long fingers and feet — all except the clothes, which were very different.

When Dobby had worked for the Malfoys, he had always worn the same filthy old pillowcase. Now, however, he was wearing the strangest assortment of garments they had ever seen; He was wearing a tea cosy for a hat, on which he had pinned a number of bright badges; a tie patterned with horseshoes over a bare chest, a pair of what looked like children's shorts, and odd socks. One of these  was the black one Alistair had removed from his own foot and tricked Mr. Malfoy into giving Dobby, thereby setting Dobby free. The other was covered in pink and orange stripes

"I like your new clothes, Dobby," Alistair said kindly. "Thank you, sir, " Dobby said, his eyes swimming with happy tears. "Just Alistair is fine," Alistair assured him, crouching down to his height.

"Dobby, what're you doing here?" Harry said in amazement. "Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!" Dobby squealed excitedly as Alistair adjusted his hat. "Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!"

"Winky?" Charlus said with wide eyes. "She's here too?" "Yes, sir, yes!" Dobby said , and he seized Charlus', Alistair's and Harry's hands and pulled them off into the kitchen between the four long wooden tables that stood there.

Each of these tables, Charlus  noticed as he passed them, was positioned exactly beneath the four House tables above, in the Great Hall. At the moment, they were clear of food, dinner having finished, but he supposed that an hour ago they had been laden with dishes that were then sent up through the ceiling to their counterparts above.

At least a hundred little elves were standing around the kitchen, beaming, bowing, and curtsying as Dobby led Charlus, Harry and Alistair past them. They were all wearing the same uniform: a tea towel stamped with the Hogwarts crest, and tied, as Winky's had been, like a toga.

Dobby stopped in front of the brick fireplace and pointed. "Winky, sirs!" he said.

Winky was sitting on a stool by the fire. Unlike Dobby, she had obviously not foraged for clothes. She was wearing a neat little skirt and blouse with a matching blue hat, which had holes in it for her large ears. However, while every one of Dobby's strange collection of garments was so clean and well cared for that it looked brand new, Winky was plainly not taking care of her clothes at all. There were soup stains all down her blouse and a burn in her skirt.

"Hello, Winky," Alistair said softly.

Winky's lip quivered. Then she burst into tears, which spilt out of her great brown eyes and splashed down her front, just as they had done at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Oh dear," Hermione said. She and Ron had followed Charlus Harry, Alistair, and Dobby to the end of the kitchen. "Winky, don't cry, please don't ...."

But Winky cried harder than ever. Dobby, on the other hand, beamed up at Charlus, Harry and Alistair. "Would Charlus and Harry Potter and Alistair Black like a cup of tea?" he squeaked loudly, over Winky's sobs.

"Er — yeah, okay," Harry said.

Instantly, about six house-elves came trotting up behind him, bearing a large silver tray laden with a teapot, cups for Charlus, Harry, Alistair, Ron, and Hermione, a milk jug, and a large plate of biscuits.

"Good service!" Ron said, in an impressed voice. Hermione frowned at him, but the elves all looked delighted; they bowed very low and retreated. "How long have you been here, Dobby?" Alistair asked as Dobby handed around the tea.

"Only a week, Alistair Black, sir!" said Dobby happily. "Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed —"

At this, Winky howled even harder, her squashed-tomato of a nose dribbling all down her front, though she made no effort to stem the flow.

"Dobby has travelled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work!" Dobby squeaked. "But Dobby hasn't found work, sir, because Dobby wants to paying now!"

The house-elves all around the kitchen, who had been listening and watching with interest, all looked away at these words, as though Dobby had said something rude and embarrassing.
Hermione, however, said, "Good for you, Dobby!"

"Thank you, miss!" Dobby said, grinning toothily at her. "But most wizards doesn't want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. 'That's not the point of a house-elf,' they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby's face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid...Dobby likes being free!"

The Hogwarts house-elves had now started edging away from Dobby, as though he were carrying something contagious. Winky, however, remained where she was, though there was a definite increase in the volume of her crying.

"And then, Charlus and Harry Potter,Alistair Black, Dobby goes to visit Winky, and finds out Winky has been freed too, sirs!" Dobby said delightedly.

At this, Winky flung herself forward off her stool and lay face down on the flagged stone floor, beating her tiny fists upon it and positively screaming with misery. Hermione hastily dropped down to her knees beside her and tried to comfort her, but nothing she said made the slightest difference. Dobby continued with his story, shouting shrilly over Winky's screeches.

"And then Dobby had the idea, Charlus and Harry Potter, Alistair Black, sirs! ! 'Why doesn't Dobby and Winky find work together?' Dobby says. 'Where is there enough work for two house-elves?' says Winky. And Dobby thinks, and it comes to him! Hogwarts! So Dobby and Winky came to see Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Dumbledore took us on!"

Dobby beamed very brightly, and happy tears welled in his eyes again. "And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sirs, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sirs, and Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!"

"That's not very much!" Hermione shouted indignantly from the floor, over Winky's continued screaming and fist-beating.

"Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, and weekends off," Dobby said, suddenly giving a little shiver, as though the prospect of so much leisure and riches were frightening, "but Dobby beat him down, sir... Dobby likes freedom, sir, but he isn't wanting too much, sir, he likes work much better."

"And how much is Professor Dumbledore paying you, Winky?" Hermione asked kindly.

If she had thought this would cheer up Winky, she was wildly mistaken. Winky did stop crying, but when she sat up she was glaring at Hermione through her massive brown eyes, her whole face sopping wet and suddenly furious.

"Winky is a disgraced elf, but Winky is not yet getting paid!" she squeaked. "Winky is not sunk so low as that! Winky is properly ashamed of being freed!""Ashamed?" Hermione said blankly. "But — Winky, come on! It's Mr. Crouch who should be ashamed, not you! You didn't do anything wrong, he was really horrible to you —"

But at these words, Winky clapped her hands over the holes in her hat, flattening her ears so that she couldn't hear a word, and screeched, "You is not insulting my master, miss! You is not insulting Mr. Crouch! Mr. Crouch is a good wizard, miss! Mr. Crouch is right to sack bad Winky!"

"Winky is having trouble adjusting, Charlus and Harry Potter, Alistair Black," Dobby squeaked confidentially. "Winky forgets she is not bound to Mr. Crouch anymore; she is allowed to speak her mind now, but she won't do it."

"Well, it might just take time for her to get used to being free," Charlus said, not really knowing what to say. "Maybe, sir," "Can't house-elves speak their minds about their masters, then?" Harry asked.

"Oh no, sir, no," Dobby said, looking suddenly serious. " 'Tis part of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. We keeps their secrets and our silence, sir. We upholds the family's honour, and we never speaks ill of them — though Professor Dumbledore told Dobby he does not insist upon this. Professor Dumbledore said we is free to —to —"

Dobby looked suddenly nervous and beckoned them closer. Charlus, Harry and Alistair bent forward. Dobby whispered, "He said we is free to call him a — a barmy old codger if we likes, sirs!"

Dobby gave a frightened sort of giggle."But Dobby is not wanting to, Charlus and Harry Potter, Alistair Black," he said, talking normally again, and shaking his head so that his ears flapped. "Dobby likes Professor Dumbledore very much, sirs, and is proud to keep his secrets and our silence for him."

"But you can say what you like about the Malfoys now?" Alistair asked him, grinning. A slightly fearful look came into Dobby's immense eyes."Dobby — Dobby could," he said doubtfully. He squared his small shoulders. "Dobby could tell Charlus and Harry Potter and Alistair Black that his old masters were — were — bad Dark wizards!"

Dobby stood for a moment, quivering all over, horror-struck by his own daring — then he rushed over to the nearest table and began banging his head on it very hard, squealing, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

Charlus seized Dobby by the back of his tie and pulled him away from the table. "Thank you, Charlus Potter, thank you," Dobby said breathlessly, rubbing his head. "You just need a bit of practice," Charlus  said.

"Practice!" Winky squealed furiously. "You is ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dobby, talking that way about your masters!" "They isn't my masters anymore, Winky!" Dobby said defiantly. "Dobby doesn't care what they think anymore!"

"Oh, you is a bad elf, Dobby!" Winky moaned, tears leaking down her face once more. "My poor Mr Crouch, what is he doing without Winky? He is needing me, he is needing my help! I is looking after the Crouches all my life, and my mother is doing it before me, and my grandmother is doing it before her... oh, what is they saying if they knew Winky was freed? Oh, the shame, the shame!"

She buried her face in her skirt again and bawled. "Winky," Hermione said firmly, "I'm quite sure Mr. Crouch is getting along perfectly well without you. We've seen him, you know —"

"You is seeing my master?" Winky asked breathlessly, raising her tearstained face out of her skirt once more and goggling at Hermione. "You is seeing him here at Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, "he and Mr. Bagman are judges in the Triwizard Tournament."

"Mr. Bagman comes too?" squeaked Winky, and to Charlus',Harry's and Alistair's great surprise and Ron's and Hermione's too, by the looks on their faces, she looked angry again. "Mr. Bagman is a bad wizard! A very bad wizard! My master isn't liking him, oh no, not at all!"

"Bagman — bad?" Harry said. "Oh yes," Winky said, nodding her head furiously. "My master is telling Winky some things! But Winky is not saying... Winky - Winky keeps her master's secrets..."

She dissolved yet again in tears; they could hear her sobbing into her skirt, "Poor master, poor master, no Winky to help him no more!"

They couldn't get another sensible word out of Winky. They left her to her crying and finished their tea, while Dobby chatted happily about his life as a free elf and his plans for his wages.

"Dobby is going to buy a sweater next!" he said happily, pointing at his bare chest. "Tell you what, Dobby," Ron said, who seemed to have taken a great liking to the elf, "I'll give you the one my mum knits me this Christmas, I always get one from her. You don't mind maroon, do you?"

Dobby was delighted. "We might have to shrink it a bit to fit you," Ron told him, "but it'll go well with your tea cozy."

As they prepared to take their leave, many of the surrounding elves pressed in upon them, offering snacks to take back upstairs. Hermione refused, with a pained look at the way the elves kept bowing and curtsying, but Charlus, Harry, Alistair, and Ron loaded their pockets with cream cakes and pies.

"Thanks a lot!" Harry said to the elves, who had all clustered around the door to say good night."See you, Dobby!" Alistair said, as the elf hugged his legs.

"Goodbye, Dobby, hopefully we see each other more often now that you're here," Charlus said, beaming."Charlus and Harry Potter... can Dobby come and see you sometimes, sirs? And maybe Alistair Black too, sir?" Dobby asked in a tentative whisper.

"'Course you can," Alistair said with a small smile, and Dobby beamed.

"You know what?" Ron said, once he, Charlus, Harry, Alistair, and Hermione had left the kitchens behind and were climbing the steps into the entrance hall again. "All these years I've been really impressed with Fred and George, nicking food from the kitchens — well, it's not exactly difficult, is it? They can't wait to give it away!"

"I think this is the best thing that could have happened to those elves, you know," Hermione said, leading the way back up the marble staircase. "Dobby coming to work here, I mean. The other elves will see how happy he is, being free, and slowly it'll dawn on them that they want that too!"

"Let's hope they don't look too closely at Winky," Alistair said. "Yeah, she seemed rather depressed," Charlus pressed his lips together, recalling the wails of Winky.

"Oh she'll cheer up," Hermione said, though she sounded a bit doubtful. "Once the shock's worn off, and she's got used to Hogwarts, she'll see how much better off she is without that Crouch man."

"She seems to love him," Ron said thickly (he had just started on a cream cake). "Doesn't think much of Bagman, though, does she?" Harry said. "Wonder what Crouch says at home about him?"

"Probably says he's not a very good Head of Department," Hermione said, "and let's face it....he's got a point, hasn't he?" "I'd still rather work for him than old Crouch," Ron said. "At least Bagman's got a sense of humour."

"Yeah, well, Percy wouldn't want to work for anyone with a sense of humor, would he?" Ron said, now starting on a chocolate eclair. "Percy wouldn't recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby's tea cozy."

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The next day, Charlus and Alistair decided to join Ron, Harry, and Hermione in the Great Hall for breakfast.

They all sat at the Gryffindor table; Ron was stuffing his face with food as per usual, an injured Harry was spitting out his drink while gawking at Cho Chang, and Hermione, who sat opposite the two boys, was staring at Rita Skeeter's latest article with a furrowed brow.

"Hey," Charlus said softly, as he took his seat next to Hermione, while Alistair sat down next to Harry.

Ron grunted with food in his mouth as his way of saying hello, while Harry had acted like he wasn't gawking over the Ravenclaw Seeker. His head snapped back to the conversation like nothing was happening, while Hermione had instantly slammed a article on the table and looked at Charlus.

"I can't believe it!" she exclaimed, "She's done it again!" "What?" Charlus asked, slightly aghast, but Hermione began to read the key point from the article aloud:

"'Miss Granger a plain but ambitious girl seems to be developing a taste for famous wizards. Her latest prey, sources report, is none other than the Bulgarian bon-bon, Viktor Krum. No word yet on how Charlus Potter's taking this latest emotional blow."

"Oh, I'm heartbroken," Charlus said mockingly. "Let me see this shit."

Hermione handed him the newspaper. In the middle was a heart-shaped moving photograph of Charlus and Hermione's hug in the tent right before the First Task. The words 'Charlus Potter's secret heartache' were printed in bold letters above.

Charlus couldn't help but laugh before pushed the newspaper back to Hermione, "It's a load of rubbish." "I don't even know why they adding Viktor Krum in there," Hermione said quietly. "Well, I've talked to him a few times but—"

This caused the boy's gaze to become serious, "Why were you talking to him?" "He comes into the library and watches me all the time, but-"

"Oh, he watches you study?" Charlus said, cutting the girl off. " What else does he do? Cut out the phrases 'love' and 'romance' from books and give them to you as a gift with a goodbye kiss?"

"Why the hell are you saying that?" Hermione frowned, clearly not understanding. Harry, Alistair and Ron watched the brief exchange before looking at each other.

The girl had only seen him act like this once before. And now,  because she talked to a guy who had become nothing but a good friend to her and came to the library often? Was he..

Was he jealous again?

At that moment, Nigel Wolpert approached them with a large package in his hands. "Parcel for you Mr. Weasley!" The young boy beamed.

"Thank you, Nigel," Ron said kindly, but Nigel' gaze was too fixated on Charlus, Harry and Alistair. "Not now, Nigel," Ron said again, "later - go on."

Nigel let out a small sigh and reluctantly walked away from the table, but Charlus, Harry, Alistair, and Hermione had all looked at Ron with a curious expression as to what just happened.

"I told him I'd get him Charlus, Harry and Alistair's autographs," Ron explained hesitantly before he opened the parcel, "Oh look! Mum's sent me something." - standing up, he furrowed his brows as he pulled out hideous maroon robes - "Mum's sent me a dress!"

Charlus, Harry and Alistair roared with laughter, and even Hermione had to hold back a laugh.

"Well, it does match your eyes!" Harry  commented amused, "Is there a bonnet?" "Here it is," Charlus laughed as he held a bunch of lace up.

"Nose down, you two, " Ron said to them and walked over to his little sister, Ginny, who sat down on the other end of the table. "Ginny," he called out, "these must be for you."

The young red-haired girl looked at the robes in disgust, "I'm not wearing that. It's ghastly!"

Alistair was practically howling with laughter at this point to which Ron had sent him a glare. "What are you on about?" "They're not for Ginny," Alistair said through his laughs that were now provoking tears, "they're for you. Dress robes."

"Dress robes?" Ron questioned, "For what?" "I'm sure you'll find out soon enough," Alistair said, laughing again.

                                            ────────⊹⊱🐍⊰⊹────────

"The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament for centuries," Professor McGonagall addressed as all of the Gryffindors and Slytherins gathered in a large, cleared-out room with a huge record player, "On Christmas Eve night, we and our guests will gather in the Great Hall for well mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally, because the Yule Ball is first and foremost... a dance."

Whilst the majority of the boys groaned and grumbled in disagreement, most of the girls turned to their friends and squealed excitedly.

"Silence!" McGonagall called out, "The Houses of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin have commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you in the course of a single evening besmirching those names by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons -"

Charlus could hear the distant chatter and laughter from Fred and George has they tried to repeat what McGonagall said without stuttering, but apparently the Transfiguration teacher didn't seem to pay them any mind.

"Now," she said, "to dance is to let the body breathe... inside every girl a secret swan slumbers longing to burst forth and take flight -"

Ron had leaned over to Charlus and whispered, "Something's about to burst out of Eloise Midgen, but I don't think it's a swan..."

Charlus shook his head, trying to stifle a laugh, before smacking Ron on the back of the head for being a prat. Apparently, they were causing too much noise as McGonagall had continued only for her to shift their gaze towards them.

" - Inside every boy, a proud lion prepared to prance - Mr. Weasley!"

Ron immediately cowered as he was singled out. "Yes?" he asked softly. "Would you join me, please?" McGonagall said, trying to hide her amusement.

Ron glanced around in a panic, then slumped forward off of his chair, like a man heading to the gallows. The boys side of the room was trying to hold back their laughter to the best of their ability.

"Now then," McGonagall said as Ron joined her in the middle of the room, "place your right hand on my waist." "Where?" Ron asked, taken aback.

"My waist," McGonagall repeated, and shortly after they began to dance around the room. "Blimey." Alistair said loudly, starting to laugh.

Charlus put two fingers in his mouth, whistling loudly at his ginger friend as a joke, which caused Ron to give him a glare. Then, Charlus leaned over and addressed Fred and George, "Oi! You're never going to let him forget this, are you?"

The twins smirked devilishly, "Never." "Everyone," McGonagall called again, "come together! Boys to your feet!"

The music swelled and the girls instantly rose to their feet, but none of the boys had moved - they were all too embarrassed.

 Charlus looked around and sighed. Feeling a surge of courage, he stood up and walked towards Hermione, who was still sitting down.

The boy bowed and held out his right hand to her, "May I have this dance, Miss Granger?" "Of course, Mr. Potter." Hermione smiled before she took it and stood up.

"I have to warn you, " Charlus said as they made their way to the middle of the room. "I'm not much of a dancer." "It's alright," Hermione replied. "I'll guide you. You just have to put your hands here—- and then we begin."

Slowly, Charlus placed his hands on her waist as she placed her hands on his shoulders. Soon enough, they began to dance around the room. And he's not as bad as he thought.

They actually moved very well together, almost like they were both in perfect sync. Charlus took the opportunity to say what he wanted to say, "Sorry about my 'jealousy fit' at breakfast. I just...you know, I've been really stressed lately."

"It's okay, I don't blame you,". Hermione assured him." That Skeeter sure knows how to get under our skin."

They both continued to dance in perfect harmony until the music stopped. Once the music stopped Charlus and Hermione held each other close while smiled each other.

 Everyone in the room started clapping for the two, but none more so than McGonagall, who seemed to have tears of joy in her eyes.

"Splendid! Absolutely wonderful!" she called out, "This is exactly what I want to see from everyone at the ball!" "Do you expect any less of me, Minnie?" Charlus said with a grin, which caused her to roll her eyes.

The bell rang shortly after, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders. Professor McGonagall called above the noise, "Potters - Black - a word, if you please."

Charlus, Harry and Alistair proceeded towards the Transfiguration teacher reluctantly as the rest of their houses moved towards the door. Professor McGonagall waited until they had gone, and then said, "The champions and their partners -"

"What partners?" Harry said quickly, looking to Charlus and Alistair, who stood there, listening intently.

Professor McGonagall looked suspiciously at him, as though she thought he was trying to be funny. "Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter," she said coldly. "Your dance partners."

Harry's insides seemed to curl up and shrivel. "Dance partners?" He felt himself going red. "I don't dance," he said quickly.

"Oh yes, you do," Professor McGonagall said irritably. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the Ball."

Harry had a sudden mental image of himself in a top hat and tails, accompanied by a girl in the sort of frilly dress Aunt Petunia always wore to Uncle Vernon's work parties.

"I'm not dancing," he said again, and Charlus and Alistair watched in amusement.

"It is traditional," Professor McGonagall said firmly. "The three of you are Hogwarts champions, and you will do what is expected of you as representatives of the school. So make sure you get yourselves partners."

"But - I don't -" "You heard me, Potter," Professor McGonagall said in a very final sort of way before turning to Charlus and Alistair. "Is this going to be an issue,Potter, Black?"

"Not at all, Minnie," Charlus replied, while Alistair just shook his head.

                                   ────────⊹⊱🐍⊰⊹────────

"Why do they have to travel in packs?" Harry asked Charlus, Alistair and Ron as a dozen or so girls walked past them in the courtyard, sniggering and staring. "How're you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?"

Charlus raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the question,"Is that a serious question? " "Yeah, absolutely," Harry replied, his tone earnest.

"Well," Charlus began , as if it were the easiest thing in the world. "you go up to someone, ask if you can talk to them alone, and then just ask them." 

"Your 're great help," Harry mumbled in defeat.  "Lasso one?" Ron suggested. "Got any idea who you're going to try?"

Harry didn't answer. He knew perfectly well whom he'd like to ask, but working up the nerve was something else... Cho was a year older than he was; she was very pretty; she was a very good Quidditch player, and she was also very popular.

 Alistair seemed to know what was going on inside Harry's head.

"Listen, you're not going to have any trouble. You're a champion. You've just beaten a Hungarian Horntail. I bet they'll be queuing up to go with you."

"Oh yeah?" Harry said, coming to a halt to stop and look Alistair dead in the eye, "Who are you going with then?"

"I - uh -"

Then, as if on cue, the red-haired girl and a group of her friends from Beauxbatons had entered the courtyard in a huddle. It didn't take long for the girl's eyes to meet Alistair's, and she immediately smiled at him.

The black-haired boy suddenly turned to Charlus, Harry and Ron, saying, "Watch and learn."

His three friends watched him intently as Alistar strode across the courtyard towards the red-haired girl and her friends. Her eyes still connected with his as he approached.

 "Bonjour," he said softly as he reached her, "who are you  wonderful woman, may I ask?"

Giggling should be made illegal, he  thought furiously, as all the girls around her started doing it. She didn't, though. "Amélie Laurent," she said as she stuck a hand out to Alistair.

"Alistair Black," Alistair said as he shook her hand. "Could I borrow you for a second?" "Yeah, sure," Amélie nodded before looking at her friends. "You guys go ahead, I'll see you later."

The girls reluctantly walked away, leaving her with Alistair. Once the group had disappeared out of earshot, Amélie turned her full attention back to him. "So what would you like?" she asked.

"Well," he began slowly, "I know this might sound a little strange, since we're basically strangers to each other... but would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Amélie blinked, a moment of surprise flashing across her face, but then a small, shy smile curled up at the corners of her lips.  "Of course, I would love to Alistair."

The boy smiled as he took her hand once more, "It's a date then, Miss Laurent."

 He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand, his eyes locking with hers. She blushed at the gesture, clearly flustered. Alistair let go of her hand with a wink, watching her shyly wave back at him.

He turned to leave, walking backward for a moment, before nearly tripping over his own feet. He caught himself just in time, and Amélie, too flustered to care, just watched him with a shy smile.

Quickly regaining his composure, Alistair turned around and  walked briskly back toward his friends. "And that, my dear friends, is how you get a date."

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After that, Charlus suddenly remembered what Professor McGonagall had told him to do. Trying to shake off the nervousness that was beginning to form within him, he made his way to the greenhouse, where he carefully selected a handful of  Hermione's favorite flowers.

With the delicate flowers behind his back, he made his way to the library, sure that he would find Hermione. Scanning the room for her, he found her sitting down, but as he got closer he noticed that she had someone with her.

None other than the person he despised the most, Viktor Krum.

The light brown- haired boy cleared his throat, announcing his presence. "What do you vant?" Krum asked angrily. "I wish to speak to Hermione." Charlus said before glaring in his direction. "Alone."

Krum turned away with a scowl on his face, almost as if he knew what was coming.  "Yeah," Hermione said, blushing, "of course."

Charlus took Hermione's hand in his and guided her to the restricted section of the library. He looked around, making sure no one was there to witness him embarrass himself before he smiled down at Hermione.

 "What's up?" she asked. "I, uh," he stuttered - he couldn't ask her. He couldn't. But he had to. Hermione stood there , watching him. The words came out before Charlus had quite got his tongue around them. "Wangoballwime?"

"Charlus.. you went too fast," Hermione said. "If you don't mind, could you say it again?"

His face went deep red as he took a deep breath. "Right, sorry," he said. "What I was trying to ask was, would you like to go to the ball with me?"

Hermione, her eyes wide with shock, could hardly believe what she was hearing. Charlus had just asked her to the ball, and for a moment, she was speechless.

Was this a dream? No it was not.

Charlus immediately felt embarrassed. "You know what, never mind," he said quickly, stepping back. "That was stupid, sorry. You've probably already got a date, and I'm—"

But then she couldn't hide the wide smile that appeared on her face. "No, I haven't," she said, "and yes, I'd love to go with you."

The boy blinked in disbelief. "Really?" he asked, not believing that she had actually said yes. "Really," she replied, which caused him to smile relieved. "Great."

He then handed Hermione the flowers, which were an abundance of colors and looked very nice. "Thank you so much for saying yes, Mione." he said while pulling her into a gentle hug.

When they broke apart Charlus whispered in her ear, "I'll see you later, okay?"

Before Hermione even had the chance to respond, he kissed her forehead and walked away. After he had left the library, he couldn't help but pump his fist in the air in victory. He was going to the Yule Ball with Hermione Granger.

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The day after he asked Hermione to the ball, the five friends were sitting in the Great Hall. Snape watched over them as they did their work.  Charlus sat between Hermione and Harry, focusing on getting his work done to get away from Snape.

Fed up with the lesson, Ron and Harry decided moping about having no dates was better than learning. "This is mad," Ron whispered. "At this rate, we'll be the only ones in our year without dates."

Snape walked up behind him and quickly turned Ron's head back to his work. When he walked away, the boy continued, "Well, us and Neville."

"Yeah," Harry said with an amused smile, "but then again, he could take himself."

Alistair stopped what he was doing and turned to look at the two, "It might interest you to know that Neville's already got someone."

Ron groaned in frustration, "Oh! Now I'm really depressed." "What's got you so miserable, Ron?" Hermione asked, looking up from her work briefly.

"That Nev's got a date and he doesn't," Charlus said, speaking for him. "Thanks a bunch, Charlus," Ron said sourly.

From beside them, Fred passed the boy a note. "Get a move on or all the good ones will have gone," Ron read out quietly before glancing at Snape who had just walked by and then looking at his brother. "Who you going with, then?"

"Angelina," Fred said promptly, without a trace of embarrassment. "What?" Ron said, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"

"Good point," Fred said. He turned his head and threw a balled up piece of paper at the girl, "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina, who had been concentrating on her own work, looked at him. "What?" she asked back. "Do you want to go to the ball with me?" he asked, making a dancing gesture with his hands.

Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look. "All right, then," she said, and she turned back to her work with a bit of a grin on her face. "There you go," Fred said to Ron, "piece of cake."

"Oi, Anna!" Ron called suddenly as the young Slytherin girl passed the table,an idea forming in his head, "You're a girl." "Really? I had no idea," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Charlus patted his brother on the shoulder and turned his gaze to Snape, who was coming towards them. Harry's eyes widened before he tried to get Ron's attention.

"Come with one of us?" The ginger asked curiously, but he had to hesitate for a moment as Anna immediately shook her head and Snape hit him in the head with a book, "Oh, c'mon! It's one thing for a bloke to show up alone, but for a girl it's just sad..."

With that comment, the other four looked at him in shock. Meanwhile Anna sent a sharp glare in Ron's direction - blimey, if looks could kill...

"Did he just?" Hermione whispered to Charlus. "He did," he whispered back.

"I won't be going alone because believe it or not, someone's already asked me!" Anna said coldly to Ron before she handed her parchment to Snape. Then she walked back over to them. "And I said yes!"

And with that, the girl stormed out of the hall without another word, leaving Ron sat there completely dumbfounded and confused. "She's lying, right?" he muttered softly, watching her go.

"I don't think so, mate," Alistair said as comforting as he could. Hermione gave Ron a disappointed looked. "You're an idiot, you know that?" she said, but he ignored her.

"Harry — we've just got to grit our teeth and do it," Ron said in a tone that suggested they were planning the storming of an impregnable fortress. "When we get back to the common room tonight, we'll both have partners — agreed?"

"Er...okay,"  Harry said. "Good luck with that, lads," Charlus said as he brought back his book to Snape and left the room.

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Entering the Gryffindor common room hours later, Charlus looked around, and to his surprise, he saw Harry laying on the couch in front of the fire. His golden egg was resting on his chest as he stared off into the distance.

Hermione and Alistair were sitting with him, talking to him. "What happened?" The light brown- haired boy inquired as he took in the sight of his brother.

Harry said nothing, instead he just sighed heavily. But it was Alistair who explained, "He asked out Cho Chang... but she's already got a date, Cedric Diggory." "Aw, brother," Charlus said softly, "that sucks."

"Now, I will be the only one in our year without date," Harry sighed once again, "so much for the dance partner that I promised McGonagall..."

"Well, I'm sure you'll find someone...." Charlus said, trying to sound optimistic, but trailed off at the sight of Ron coming in. Ginny was following him, talking to him in a low, soothing voice.

"It's okay Ron," she said. "It's alright. It - It doesn't matter." "What happened to you?" Harry asked, getting up from the couch. "Why did I do it?" Ron said wildly. "I don't know what made me do it!"

Ginny sat him down on a pouffe and Ron looked up at his friends with a sort of blind horror in his face. "He - er - he just asked Fleur Delacour out," she replied to the question while she continued to pat Ron's arm sympathetically.

"What?" Alistair exclaimed as he and the others made their way to him. "What did she say?" Harry asked urgently. "No, of course," Hermione answered, but Ron shook his head with a groan, which caused the girl to place her hands over her mouth in shock. "She said yes?"

"Don't be silly," Ron croaked. "There she was, walking by. You know I like it when they walk. I couldn't help it. It just sort of slipped out." "Actually, he sort of screamed at her," Ginny told them, desperately fighting back an amused smile, "It was a bit frightening."

Charlus tried his hardest not to laugh, "I bet it was." "And what did you do then?" Harry asked. "What else?" Ron mumbled, "I ran for it. I'm not cut out for this,Harry. I don't know what's gotten into me."

But Charlus had just seen Parvati and Lavender come in through the portrait hole. The time had come for drastic action. He would ge this brother and his best friend dates, he just had to use all his charm.

"Wait here," he said Ron, and he stood up, walked straight up to Parvati, and said with a charming smile, "Parvati? Will you go to the ball with Harry?"

Parvati went into a fit of giggles. Charlus waited for them to subside, his fingers crossed in the pocket of his robes.

"Yes, all right then," she said finally, blushing furiously. "Thanks," Charlus said, in relief. "Lavender — will you go with Ron?"

"She's going with Seamus,"  Parvati said, and the pair of them giggled harder than ever. Charlus sighed. "Can't you think of anyone who'd go with Ron?" he said, lowering his voice so that his friend wouldn't hear.

"What about Hermione Granger?" Parvati asked. "She's going with someone else," Charlus replied.

The girl looked astonished. "Ooooh — who?" she said keenly. Charlus grinned proudly. "He's standing right in front of you," he said. "So what about Ron?"

"Well..." Parvati said slowly, "I suppose my sister might...Padma, you know...in Ravenclaw. I'll ask her if you like." "Yeah, that would be great," Charlus said. "Let me know, will you?"

And he went back over to Harry and Ron, a small smile on his face, and put his arm around them both, "Thank me."

━━ AUTHORS NOTE

This chapter took WAY longer than I intended it to.

And Charlus asked her! They are so cute.

The next one is the Yule Ball chapter. I wouldn't miss it if I were you... 👀

Well, what's your favourite colours? Mine are royal blue, lemon yellow, scarlet red and emerald green!

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Please, don't forget to vote and share if you do, and if you want, comment too ! I'd really appreciate it <3

Thank you for reading this far.

Much love to you all, until next time ❤️