After dancing another song with Fleur, I finally reached the conclusion that the young veela was far more dangerous than any dragon I had encountered this year.
At least dragons were honest about their intentions.
They wanted to burn, and eat you.
Fleur, meanwhile, smiled sweetly while systematically destroying every escape route available to me.
After the song ended, my opportunity to slip away finally arrived.
I bowed politely. "Thank you for the dance, Miss Delacour."
Fleur curtsied gracefully. "Zank you, Professor."
Perfect, everything was proceeding according to plan.
I took a step away, then another. Already I could see Aurora across the Hall speaking with Professor Vector.
Freedom was within reach.
"Professor."
I froze, then turned back slowly. "Yes?"
Fleur blinked innocently. "Are you leaving already?"
"Well, yes."
Her expression immediately fell. Or rather, appeared to fall.
To the untrained eye, it was devastating. Her shoulders lowered slightly, her blue eyes lost some of their brightness, and the corners of her lips curved downward.
It was the expression of a young woman cruelly abandoned after sharing two dances with the man who had saved her life.
Several nearby students immediately looked at me as though I had kicked a puppy.
It was honestly a remarkable performance.
But unfortunately for Fleur… I was a professional actor.
I had spent years charming audiences, fooling journalists, and surviving interviews with Rita Skeeter.
I knew fake emotions when I saw them.
The tiny twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away, she was enjoying herself, the little menace.
"I see what you're doing," I said.
Her sad expression deepened. "I do not know what you mean."
"Of course you don't." I rolled my eyes.
"I am merely disappointed." She put a hand on her chest.
"Mhm." I raised an eyebrow.
"Very disappointed." She insisted.
"Mhm." I just lifted my brow higher.
"Heartbroken, perhaps."
I shook my head. "Heartbroken after two dances?"
"Three if we count ze one where I almost died and you carried me."
"That does not count as a dance."
"It counts in my heart."
Several female students nearby sighed dreamily.
Traitors.
I pointed accusingly at her. "That was actually quite a good performance."
For a second, her expression cracked, but only for a second.
Then she resumed looking tragic.
"I do not know what you are talking about."
"You almost got me with the eyes."
"The eyes?"
"The sad eyes."
Fleur immediately widened them further. "Zese eyes?"
"Exactly those eyes."
"They are my normal eyes."
"They are absolutely not your normal eyes."
A laugh escaped her despite her best efforts.
There.
Caught.
The mask shattered completely.
Fleur covered her mouth, trying and failing to suppress her amusement.
"You noticed?"
"Miss Delacour." I placed a hand against my chest.
"I have performed dramatic death scenes."
Her smile widened.
"I once cried on command for six consecutive takes."
Now she was openly laughing.
"I spent three months pretending to suffer from a cursed love potion while performing The Duke of Devonshire and the Dementor."
"Zat sounds ridiculous."
"It was ridiculous, but the amount of galleons I was paid was even more ridiculous, so I did it happily."
I pointed triumphantly. "So you cannot fool me with fake tears."
Fleur sighed dramatically. "Fine."
She folded her arms. "But you must admit zat it was working."
"...Maybe a little, at the start."
Her grin immediately became victorious. "Aha!"
"Only a little."
"A little is enough."
Merlin help me.
The girl learned frighteningly quickly.
Fleur stepped closer. "One more dance."
"No."
"Two then."
"That's not how negotiation works."
"Half a dance then?"
"And that isn't how dancing works."
"A quarter of a dance?"
I stared.
She stared back, completely serious, or pretending to be.
With Fleur, it was often difficult to tell.
"I need to return to my wife."
Fleur sighed. "A noble excuse."
"It isn't an excuse."
"A very handsome excuse."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Miss Delacour."
"Yes?"
"You are surprisingly childish."
She smiled brightly. "I've been told zat before."
I had no doubt.
Finally, after another minute of negotiations that felt more difficult than treaty talks between hostile nations, Fleur finally relented.
"Fine, you may leave."
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "Really?"
"Really."
"You promise?"
She crossed her fingers behind her back, which I noticed immediately.
She noticed me noticing, but didn't seem repentant at all.
"Alright, I promise," she admitted.
"But I reserve my rights to try again later."
"There it is."
Fleur laughed.
Then, before I could react, she rose slightly on her toes and kissed my cheek.
Again.
"Enjoy ze rest of your evening, Professor."
I sighed. "Goodnight, Miss Delacour."
She turned and walked away, her allure radiating off her in waves, causing several unfortunate male students to walk into walls or step on the toes of their partners while watching her leave.
I watched her disappear into the crowd and shook my head.
The girl was trouble.
Beautiful trouble.
The worst kind.
Still, I had escaped in one piece.
A victory was a victory.
Straightening my jacket, I turned toward Aurora's table.
Only to find Aurora, Sirius, and Snape all staring at me, judging.
"Oh no," I muttered.
Apparently escaping Fleur had only been the first challenge of the evening.
…
After another hour or so, Aurora and I mutually reached the conclusion that it was time to retreat before the festivities evolved into something requiring Ministry intervention.
The Yule Ball had now abandoned any pretence of dignified elegance.
Not that I was complaining.
It had simply entered the stage where everyone had consumed enough food, music, and holiday cheer to start making questionable decisions.
I glanced back toward the Great Hall one last time.
Poor Professor Flitwick was beyond saving.
The tiny Charms Master was currently being tossed several feet into the air by a group of enthusiastic former students while laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
Each time he came back down, someone launched him upward again.
To my surprise, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.
Back on the stage, the Three Sisters had abandoned the slower songs entirely and were now performing one of their most popular hits.
The dance floor had transformed into absolute chaos.
Then I spotted something even more shocking.
"Sirius?"
Aurora followed my gaze.
Sure enough, Sirius Black was somehow standing on the stage holding a microphone.
Singing.
And not merely singing, but singing well enough to be called professional.
He had one arm wrapped around the shoulders of the lead singer while enthusiastically joining the chorus.
The crowd was loving every second of it.
Aurora burst out laughing. "I didn't expect Sirius to sing so well."
"I know, right?" I replied. "I am seriously starting to believe The Quibbler's theory that he's actually Stubby Boardman."
Aurora laughed even harder. The sound echoed pleasantly through the cold winter night as we left the castle behind.
Snow covered the grounds in a pristine white blanket.
The stars glittered overhead.
In the distance, the lights of Hogsmeade twinkled warmly.
For a few peaceful minutes, we simply walked together through the snow.
Then we passed near the enormous Beauxbatons carriage and both of us frowned.
Something was wrong.
A young man and woman were standing near the entrance.
Or rather…
One was trying to leave, while the other wasn't letting her.
Roger Davies had Fleur backed against the side of the carriage.
He wasn't hurting her exactly.
But he was holding her waist and repeatedly trying to pull her closer.
Fleur was actively resisting, her expression was furious.
I immediately changed direction and prepared to put a stop to this.
Only for Aurora to place a hand on my arm.
"Wait."
I frowned. "Aurora…"
"Look at his eyes."
I paused.
Then looked more carefully.
Roger's eyes were glassy. His face was slightly flushed, and his movements lacked their usual coordination.
He was drunk.
Very drunk.
And more importantly...
His mind was compromised.
Which explained something that had been bothering me.
Earlier in the evening, Roger had behaved perfectly normally around Fleur.
Not immune to her allure, certainly.
Very few men had minds as strong as mine.
But he had shown considerably more resistance than most.
Now, however...
It was like looking at a completely different person.
"How come you kissed Lockhart but now can't even give me a little kiss?" Roger demanded.
His words came out slightly slurred.
His grip tightened, and Fleur struggled harder.
"He saved my life!" she snapped.
"And I like him!"
Roger's face darkened immediately.
"Then what about me?"
"You agreed to go to the Ball with me!"
"Because I needed a date!" Fleur shot back, her accent became thicker with irritation.
"And Professor Lockhart said no!"
That explained quite a lot.
"Don't you like me even a little?" Roger asked, and the hurt in his voice sounded genuine.
Unfortunately, it didn't excuse what he was doing.
"Not like zis!" Fleur tried to pull away again. "Now let me go!"
But Roger didn't, and that was his biggest mistake.
I barely had time to process Fleur's movement before her knee shot upward with terrifying precision.
The impact was devastating.
Roger emitted a strangled noise somewhere between a scream and a whimper.
His eyes widened, and his mouth opened, but no other sound came out.
Then he collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
I instinctively covered my own crotch. "Ouch."
Aurora winced beside me. "Agreed."
Fleur didn't waste a second. The moment Roger hit the ground, she spun around and stormed toward the carriage.
Halfway there, she turned back.
Her blue eyes landed on me briefly, and for a moment, I thought she might say something.
But instead, she simply huffed angrily and disappeared inside.
The carriage door slammed shut, and silence followed.
Roger continued making soft sounds of suffering from the snow.
I stared at him, then at the carriage, then back at him.
"Should we take him to the infirmary?"
Aurora surprised me by immediately shaking her head. "No."
I blinked. "No?"
"He brought this on himself." Her voice was calm but firm.
"He shouldn't have tried to force a lady into kissing him."
I looked down at Roger, who was still curled into a miserable ball.
"To be fair," I said carefully, "he was under the effect of her allure."
Aurora folded her arms. "If he wasn't so drunk, he wouldn't have fallen for it."
I opened my mouth, but then closed it again.
Because unfortunately… she wasn't entirely wrong.
Alcohol lowered inhibitions.
It weakened judgment.
And in the case of a veela's allure, that was a particularly dangerous combination.
Roger groaned pitifully, but neither of us moved.
After several seconds, he slowly rolled onto his side.
"I think I'm dying."
"You're not dying," I said.
"It feels like it."
"That part I believe."
Aurora nodded. "Consider it an educational experience."
Roger looked up at us in disbelief. "You just watched."
"You were being an idiot," Aurora replied.
I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. "Actually, I think that's going in next year's syllabus, don't drink alcohol if a veela is present."
Roger let out another groan and dropped his head back into the snow.
Aurora took my arm. "Come on, let's go home."
I allowed myself to be led away.
As we resumed our walk toward Hogsmeade, I glanced back one final time.
Roger was still lying there.
Alone.
Staring at the sky.
Contemplating every decision that had led him to this exact moment.
A valuable life lesson.
Never challenge a veela.
And if you absolutely must challenge a veela...
Make sure to wear protective equipment.
Honestly, he was fortunate she didn't start throwing fireballs.
…