snow, gala, and ball pt. 2

December 25th, 1994

WHILE THE ALLEN Residence was decorated in a classic, English style and the Reeds' was minimalistic, industrial type, the Louvres' was... very French.

Their home was swarming with history —even the rugs had one.

Vincent pointed to random portraits in the house and told Daisy stories from some centuries ago, about some historical figures that were somehow related to the Louvres. Though the interiors were quite simplistic, walking out from one room to another felt like walking into a whole new world. Each room was an eclectic mixture of vintage and new, and they all reflected the family's persona: elegant, luxurious, advanced, powerful, brave.

After the house tour, guests were directed into the beautiful dining room, where they were greeted by dancing servants and served with food and drinks Daisy couldn't even pronounce properly. She only learned French for two years, seven years ago.

Vincent had the time of his life watching her try to keep up with his fluency.

Throughout dinner, conversations around the table were delivered in low voices and whispers, including theirs. Daisy didn't know why they were doing that. Manner, perhaps. Or the tension of being in an unfamiliar neighborhood with a lot of unfamiliar people.

"Was it chess?"

Daisy nearly choked on her food, laughing. She grimaced at her father, who eyed her disapprovingly from his seat. Swallowing, she asked, "What?"

"The sports competition you watched in London. Was it chess?"

"No. Why would you guess that?"

"It's the only academic, intellectually challenging instead of athletically, branch of sport I could think of. Which fits your profile."

"No, it's a ball game," Daisy said. She paused talking as she ate the last coquilles saint-jacques on her plate, then continued, "Do you remember Lucy?"

"Yes. Your housemaid, right?"

"I consider her more of a friend, but yes, she works in my house. She guessed the exact same thing."

"See!" Vincent exclaimed defensively, capturing the attention of some people sitting close to them. But he brushed them off. "It wasn't a groundless guess. You're more of a chess person than a ball game one."

"Oh, I heard you received your acceptance letter last week. Congratulations."

"Wow, thanks! I was going to tell you after the dance. Where did you hear about that?"

"My Father. He told me, I now have an upperclassman who'll give me a tour once I..." she drew a long breath, "Once I get into Harvard myself."

"Ouch," Vincent hissed and grimaced, "Sorry about that."

"Thank you, that's very thoughtful of you," Daisy chuckled, "How long are you planning on staying here?"

"February 2nd. Don't miss me too much, though. I'm planning to stay here in Mari's home once I graduate in June until my term in Harvard begins the next January."

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December 25th, 1994

OH, GINNY WAS right. The looks on Harry and Ron's faces —no, actually, the look on everyone's faces, were all priceless. Incredibly.

Even Draco Malfoy, who was literally a walking bank of insults, didn't have anything to throw at Hermione as he walked past.

Viktor himself looked incredibly awestruck when she walked down the stairs towards him. He took her hand gently then kissed the back of it, saying, "Vot an honor, my beautiful Herimy-nee."

"It's actually Her-my-oh-nee," Hermione spelled her name slowly and carefully.

"Herm-own-ninny."

She smiled, "Close enough. You look dashing yourself— Is it okay for me to call you Viktor?"

"Of course, of course! Please call me Viktor!"

The champions and their respective partners were seated at the top table, along with the judges and professors. As expected, Percy was there, in replacement of Mr. Crouch. He engaged Harry in a boring one-sided conversation about his ministry work throughout dinner, causing him to momentarily forget about Parvati's presence. All the while, Fleur kept on criticizing every corner of Hogwarts' decorations as her partner, Roger Davies, stared at her beauty intently, too busy to take in a word she was saying. Cedric (who seemed to have moved on from his interest in Daisy and landed another sweet, sweet girl) and Cho were shyly smiling at each other most of the time, with the occasional exchange of words between them.

Meanwhile, if there was even a shred of doubt in anybody's mind that Viktor Krum really was infatuated with Hermione, what happened during dinnertime washed all of those away.

Krum was quite well known for being gruff and silent, but he was certainly talking then, and very enthusiastically at that.

"Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking," he was telling Hermione. "Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these— though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains—"

And Ron... Well, he was lost in the sea of students. But he was certainly unhappy.

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December 25th, 1994

AS DINNER TURNED to dance, champagne, wine, and different sorts of high quality alcohol were infinitely poured, and consequently, the noise began to amplify.

Laughter and talks were no longer carried out silently. It was in full volume.

Marisol and Atlas led the first dance, accompanied by four other couples including Dominic, who danced with Marisol's cousin, and Vincent and Daisy.

Daisy literally said 'sorry' every other minute, whenever she accidentally stepped on Vincent's poor toes or get the moves wrong.

At first, it was Waltz and ballroom dancing.

After about seven or eight sets, it turned into freestyle rave, though still accompanied by classical piano and a string quartet.

Daisy was adamant to join in the jumping and twirling and giggling around at first.

"I know you have a fun side buried down inside of you," Dominic planted a hand on her shoulder gently, and pumped his other fist into the air, "Let the beast loose!"

"Dom!" Atlas called from the dance floor, twirling a joyous Marisol in his arms.

"Come on, Jane!" Vincent started dancing in front of her like a madman.

After that, how could she not?

She took Vincent and Dominic's outstretched hands and let him pull her into the fun.

For one night, and probably one night only, no thought of magic occurred into her mind. At least, not yet.

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December 25th, 1994

THERE WERE TWO types of people present in the Yule Ball.

One, those who actually enjoyed the Weird Sisters' music, the drinks, and the companions, like Seamus and Lavender, Lee and Patricia, Neville and Ginny (though Neville did step on her toes countless of times, he was actually a very sweet boy), Viktor and Hermione, Cedric and Cho...

Two, those who were distracted by other ongoing problems.

Like Harry, who was out eavesdropping information from here and there surreptitiously. Initially, he wasn't looking for it, but he often found himself in the right place at the right time, so... Oh, well.

Like Ron, who was conflicted and confused of why he was so pissed by the notion of Hermione having a really good time with Krum. Was he jealous of him because it was Hermione (his best friend who he really liked), or was he jealous of her because it was Krum (his Quidditch idol)?

Like Padma and Parvati, who were abandoned by their partners.

Like Fred and George, who really tried to be civil yet strict with Mr. Bagman, but ended up being told, "Sod off! You two shouldn't be gambling in the first place!"

George kept on tapping his foot impatiently as Fred cussed and cursed at the irresponsible adult, looking incredibly sour, and finally decided to cut him off. "Sorry, Fred, but can we forget about the money, just for a couple hours, and rethink our next steps in the morning?"

"What?"

"There's nothing more we can do tonight anyway. Okay?"

"But—"

"Okay! Brilliant!" George hurriedly ran over to rejoin his friends, the first type people, and asked Alicia out for another dance.

Fred grumbled, taking a seat on the stairwell outside with a black cloud looming over his head. He could still feel the dampened, pulsating beat of electronic music through the wall.

George was right. But that didn't make losing thirty-seven galleons plus plus to a bonehead easier.

"Fred?" Angelina came over, "Don't you wanna dance?"

"No, not really."

Angelina paused, then turned around and disappeared into the Great Hall once more. Only two minutes later she reappeared, though, with two glasses of yellowish drink in her hands.

"Let's have a drink, then," she smiled kindly.

"It's not—"

"Smuggled Butterbeer. Not the lame punch they serve on the tables."

"Oh," Fred said, "Okay. Thanks."

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December 25th, 1994

VINCENT BROUGHT HER outside, away from the crowd and the music, to sit by the pool.

They had their shoes and heels off, and their legs dipped into the warm, heated water. Daisy tightened the thick coat around her shoulders, shivering slightly.

All of a sudden, something small and white fell onto the pool. Then another, then another, and she felt a couple of them perching on her hair. Daisy opened her gloved palms and let some landed on them. "It's snowing!"

"Well, that's unexpected," Vincent said, looking up to the sky. "Do you want to get inside?"

"No, here is fine."

"Isn't it cold?"

Daisy smiled in assurance, "It's bearable. And a beautiful sight."

"You're right." Vincent turned to look at her and laughed, pointing at her face, "You've got one stuck on your lashes."

"Oh, really?" Daisy blinked hurriedly and reached up to rub her eyes, but Vincent grabbed her wrist first, "Here, let me."

He used his other hand to gently wipe the snowflakes, slightly leaning forward to get a better view, and...

And blood rushed up Daisy's cheeks, warmth flushed throughout her body, her heart hammering hard against her ribcage. She had read and heard and witnessed kisses for as long as she could remember, and first kiss...

Well, first kiss was supposed to be the most beautiful, soul-stirring event one could experience in one's teen years. It would be the first of so many pragma, eros, and ludus —something that brings an undecipherably pleasant feeling she wouldn't be able to forget for the rest of her life.

And as this American gentleman with the heart of gold, magnificent reputation, and respectable intelligence came closer, she felt... wrong. To her surprise, she found herself hoping that her first kiss would be... someone else.

Someone who first taught her to love herself, who introduced her to the exact kind of family she wanted to build herself one day.

Maybe this was too far-fetched for someone only nearing sixteen, but if she could imagine herself having her own home someday, it would be with... with a red-haired, freckled, lanky, childish, mischievous boy next door.

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December 25th, 1994

"OH, LOOK, IT'S snowing!" Angelina pointed towards the window.

"Really?" Fred raised his eyebrows. He put his empty glass of Butterbeer on the staircase and walked towards the opening. From there, he could feel the strong, chilly wind and he could see the gorgeous view of Hogwarts ground. He could see Hagrid's hut, surrounded by his farming ground and lit up by lanterns resembling fireflies. And as he outstretched his hand, he could see the imperfect shape of snowflakes landed on his palm.

"Fred, I wanna ask you a question." Angelina came to stood beside him. "Why... Why did you ask me to be your date for the Yule Ball?"

"Huh?"

"Yeah. I mean, why me?"

Fred was... innocently puzzled, so he just replied, "Why not you? We've been good friends for nearly six years now—"

"Is that all?" Angelina asked. Something in her eyes screamed an unspoken hurt. "Good friends?"

"Well," Fred nodded, "Yeah."

To his surprise, Angelina took one step closer towards him and leaned forward, stopping with only a couple inches of space left between their noses.

Fred felt his heart jumped up into his throat, and it probably took less than 'one galloping Gargoyles' for him to sprang back. "What— What are you doing?"

And again, to his surprise, Angelina smiled.

"Two seconds. I knew it."

"What?"

"Look," she laughed, and it sounded truly genuine. "I don't think my feeling for you is a secret to anyone anymore. Lee and Alicia have been hinting on it for years now. And honestly, when you asked me out, I allowed myself to be kinda hopeful."

Fred scratched his ear awkwardly. "Angie..."

"BUT! I get it now. I'm moving on. So here's my advice for you: whoever that lucky girl is, make a move soon."

"What?"

"Your heart is full, Freddie. But if you keep on playing oblivious, her heart might be filled by someone else soon," Angelina rolled her eyes, "Don't you know that love is all about timing? Aren't you supposed to be smart?"

For the first time in his life, Fred let the incessant voices in his heart and mind went silent. He was enveloped by peace, surrounded by the sound of wind, the echo of Angelina's advice, and honestly, the first person that popped into his mind was... her.

You know, actually, he knew. He had known for quite a while that it was her.

He was just scared to admit it.

He was afraid of what might happen if he cross the line, if he would lose her forever instead of having her closer to him than ever. When it was said and done, would he still be able to hug and kiss her cheeks, and would they be okay with that?

That golden-haired, gorgeous, cute, super smart and super nice girl next door.

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