Chapter 184. The School Ball. Part 1. The Beginning.
Three days later, December twenty-fifth finally arrived: Christmas. But while the Muggle world greeted it with bright smiles, the magical world's mood was almost entirely swallowed by the bleak atmosphere that had settled back over the country, reminding everyone that the civil war was not over and that relaxing was still a luxury they could not afford.
For its part, the newly formed alliance had taken no decisive steps beyond directing every available resource toward finding whoever was still hiding in their midst.
Something else had happened as well.
The previous day's newspaper had featured a substantial article under the sensational headline: "The Black Star That Killed Christmas." It described an organization intent on seizing the country by any means necessary, including identifying features so vague they could apply to anyone, and had somehow unleashed an enraged mob that was now storming Diagon and Knockturn Alleys, accosting every passing wizard, and combing through every corner of the Muggle world, apparently braving sub-zero temperatures just for some fresh air.
The decision to release information about the organization to the public, framed as it was, immediately revealed the inadequacy of the alliance, which had found nothing in three days.
That was not surprising: Britain was not a small country, and there was no way of knowing where the attackers might be hiding.
Severus did not blame them for it.
If he had not already known where Black Star was concealed, he doubted he would have figured it out himself.
They had chosen their location perfectly: right under the Ministry of Magic's nose, barely two blocks away, the last place anyone would think to look.
Inside Hogwarts, things were far quieter.
Only a handful of people knew what had happened outside, and those who did were keeping quiet at the Headmaster's request, relayed through the house heads.
They were mostly sixth- and seventh-years: old enough to hold their tongues and without any particular desire to ruin the holiday for everyone else.
Two days before Christmas, all preparations had been completed. The Great Hall had been decorated with particular care, more brilliantly than the year before. The windows were hung with curtains of icicles, the walls and ceiling had been temporarily repainted in soothing shades of light blue, and beside the large Christmas tree behind the teachers' table, two more had been added, each half a meter shorter but no less radiant or beautiful.
The teachers, for their part, were working hard to appear at ease, always smiling, maintaining the illusion that everything was as it always had been and that the holiday was still something to look forward to.
In the hospital wing, Severus sat at the table with Madam Pomfrey and calmly drank his tea.
On the second day after his punishment for the bad joke, the matron had called him back the moment she learned he had been excused from dance rehearsals. After he left, she had found herself slightly lonely in the ward, and Christmas was drawing close; nobody was particularly eager to end up in the hospital wing, though on school days, especially around examinations, she had never lacked for patients.
Their usual conversations centered on medicine, Muggle medicine especially. Most Healers were too proud to acknowledge Muggle advances in the field, even though Muggle medicine had progressed considerably further in certain respects. That made it difficult for Pomfrey to find anyone who shared her interests.
Today's conversation had somehow drifted to the upcoming exams, still five months away.
"I am still surprised you chose that particular problem as your O.W.L. defense project," Pomfrey murmured with undisguised astonishment, then fell into a brief, concentrated thought that concluded in a dissatisfied sniff. She drew a small, plain purse from her pocket, opened it, and produced a book titled Reflections from inside. "I'm certain this will help you in your research." She smiled at him.
"Hm?" He took it and opened the first page. He was greeted by a portrait: an old woman with a confident, slightly condescending smile and keen, vivid eyes. She wore violet robes, a pair of large round earrings, and a diadem set with a triangular red gemstone, its point facing downward. "Professor, isn't this a restricted book?" He gave her an amused look. Pomfrey's eyes narrowed slightly, not entirely kindly. "Joking, joking. I saw nothing and you gave me nothing." The book vanished from his hand, and the matron's expression returned to normal. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. I'm certain it will help me considerably."
"I don't doubt it. But if you so much as damage it..."
"The moment I produce a potion for Dragon Pox, you will be the first to receive my book, personally signed by the author, and you can throw that one into the dustiest corner of your library."
"I shall look forward to that very much." Poppy grinned with a hint of amusement, and found herself, to her own surprise, genuinely believing in the young man sitting across from her. In just over half a year he had accomplished what took others years to achieve: a true prodigy, and his patience and depth of understanding were things she could honestly admit to envying at times. "And if you ever need assistance with the research, I would always be glad to help."
"Thank you." Severus nodded quietly. Another book appeared in his hand. "And a Merry Christmas to you as well."
Pomfrey raised a surprised eyebrow. This had been entirely unexpected. She did not refuse the gift, but the moment she saw who had written it and when it had been published, her eyes went wide.
"M-Mr Severus! I cannot accept this! It's far too much!" But when she looked up, he was already gone. On the table lay a note:
Merry Christmas again. And don't even think about returning it. I'll burn it.
"The nerve! You little wretch! You'll be back here sooner or later, and when you are, I'll show you what it means to torment a woman like this!" She huffed with great indignation, but the warm smile never left her face.
Severus left the matron's office and headed toward the Great Hall, where the ball would soon begin. Along the way, he traded his teaching robes for a simple black waistcoat. Nagini had decided to stay in their room so as not to disrupt the festive mood and frighten the children.
"Meow." The next moment, Lucky jumped up onto his shoulder and began rubbing cheerfully against his cheek. Severus gently stroked his head in response.
"Good to see you too, little one. I won't ask where you've been, but do be careful. Those claws are sharp and your speed is impressive, but physically, you're still fragile."
"Meow! Meow-meow!" Lucky protested indignantly at the insult. How could he possibly be fragile?
Severus stepped off the last stair and onto the ground floor, then made his way toward the Great Hall.
"Yes, yes, fine: you're just small. Still, be careful. I'd rather not lose a companion as charming as you. By the way, have you thought it over? Would you consider becoming my second familiar? It would be easier for us to find each other, and you'd become even stronger for it." He tapped the kitten lightly on the nose. Lucky scrunched his face in displeasure, but thought about it for a few seconds and then shook his head. "A shame. But I can wait: we have plenty of time." He stroked the kitten once more, then let his gaze drift to the young people around them, dressed in suits and elegant gowns, all moving in the same direction.
"Severus!" A familiar voice stopped him. He turned with a welcoming smile.
Regulus approached in good spirits, wearing a simple suit with a cape-style jacket and a black bow tie. Beside him stood Layla Greengrass in a white evening gown with bare shoulders that suited her perfectly, emphasizing her slim figure. She looked especially lovely with white elbow-length gloves and matching pointed heels.
"Miss Greengrass, you look particularly enchanting this evening. I'm struggling to find words to do your beauty justice." Severus smiled his usual, faintly audacious smile and gallantly kissed the knuckles of the pleased girl, who hid her delight behind a raised hand.
"Severus, please don't steal my partner for the evening just because you came alone," Regulus said with a smirk. Severus gave a short, dismissive laugh and lifted his chin. "Had I known it would come to this, I would never have surrendered such a remarkable lady to you. Perhaps it's not too late to reconsider?" He glanced at her with a note of amusement. "I'm afraid I must decline. I'm far more comfortable in Mr. Black's company," she answered. Regulus himself couldn't hold back any longer and laughed, and Layla followed a moment later, before turning her attention to the gray kitten on Severus's shoulder. "May I?" "Only if he agrees." But Lucky did not wait for him to finish. He leapt straight into her arms and began purring contentedly for her attention. "Traitor." "Meow," Lucky responded with a lazy flick of his tail.
"All right, let's go: the event starts in half an hour." Severus chose to ignore this behavior and suppressed the urge to flick the ungrateful kitten on the nose. "Are you really going dressed like that?" Regulus looked at him with genuine bewilderment: no tie, no bow tie, two top buttons of his shirt undone, a plain waistcoat, and hair that was not so much styled as simply gathered into a short tail. The only word for the look was disheveled.
"I didn't even want to come, or wear this waistcoat," Severus said, stepping aside slightly to let a pair of Hufflepuffs pass before continuing, "but someone made me put it on, and the Headmaster wouldn't let me go home."
"I like how he looks," Layla said suddenly, glancing up from the kitten. She smiled and nodded toward a pair of Gryffindor girls who had been watching Severus with open interest and, the moment he met their eyes, turned pink and hurried off toward the Great Hall. "The 'bad boy' look never goes out of style."
"You see? Even Layla says it suits me. So stop criticizing my appearance." He turned his back to them. "Come on, I want to try every dish. The Board of Governors is footing the bill and they weren't being stingy with the Galleons. Oh, and I'm calling it now: I'm going to be a witness."
"A 'witness'?" Regulus looked at him, puzzled. "A witness to what?"
Layla understood almost immediately, especially recalling a certain conversation on Monday. Her cheeks flared red, standing out sharply against her pale skin.
"Severus!" she hissed at him, nearly shooting sparks from her eyes.
Seeing her vivid reaction and the blush spreading across his partner's face, Regulus slowly began to understand as well. He turned a little pink himself but chose not to comment, pretending not to catch what his friend meant so as not to embarrass her further. And if he was honest with himself, he had been finding Greengrass increasingly appealing, especially in that evening gown. He caught Severus's eye and gave him a small, grateful nod.
"Wonderful. Let's go."
"What's so wonderful?" Layla looked from one of them to the other, puzzled, but they both remained silent and walked on. "Hey, stop ignoring me!"
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