[Hey guys! Hope you all are doing well and thanks for sticking by for the last couple of weeks. Here's the next chapter for all you wonderful people.
Fair warning though, the first half of this chapter is somewhat boring. At one point, I didn't even want to write it. But I had already committed a previous plot point, so I powered through.
The good news is, despite its obvious flaws, it does end with a bang 😊]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
25th December 1994
Hogwarts
When the last of the desserts had vanished from the plates, Dumbledore stood up and asked all the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, the tables zoomed back along the walls, leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, and three guitars were set upon it.
"Now, before we begin," Dumbledore said aloud, "I would like to clarify something. I had originally intended—as some of you might have suspected—to book the Weird Sisters for the Yule Ball."
The boys and girls in the hall cheered wildly, for the Weird Sisters were one of the favourite musical bands of the wizarding world. But before the applause could rise any further, Dumbledore continued.
"However," he said, "I was approached by another group who wished to perform tonight."
Surprised murmurs swept through the crowd.
"I have watched them play," Dumbledore added with a smile, "and I must say, I found them quite enjoyable."
"Who do you think it is?" Hermione asked, still watching the headmaster.
"Weeell…" I said slowly.
She turned toward me and saw the playful grin on my face. Realisation dawned.
"You didn't," she groaned.
"I totally did," I smiled.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Dumbledore called. "Please welcome—Arcane Frequency!"
The raised platform lit up with enchanted lights. Fred and George, both wearing matching white jackets and identical grins, made their way toward the stage.
"Wish me luck," I said to Hermione. Stealing a quick kiss, I went and joined the Weasley twins on the platform.
---
(3rd Person POV)
"Did you know about this?" Daphne asked Hermione, her eyes fixed on the brightly lit stage where Ben, Fred, and George were adjusting their guitars.
"What do you think?" Hermione replied, exasperated. "I don't even know when he roped in the Weasley twins into this madness."
"He is always full of surprises, isn't he?" Tracey laughed. "Wonder what they're going to play."
There was a soft pop, and a young boy with messy green hair and long pointed ears appeared on the stage. He was wearing a sleeveless orange vest with glowing rune-stitches, loose layered blue trousers with asymmetrical cuts, fingerless gloves wrapped in enchanted thread, and soft split-toe shoes. On his head was a cap that read—World's Bestest Elf.
"Oh my God! He is so cute!" Ginny yelled over the gasping crowd. They watched as the little guy went and gave Ben a high five, then sat behind the drum set. "Who is that?"
"That's Dobby," Rachel answered.
"Dobby?" Daphne repeated, frowning. "Wasn't that the name of your house-elf?"
"Yep," Rachel said simply.
"But then…" Daphne said, looking back at the stage where Dobby was now twirling a couple of drumsticks in his hands, "why does he look like that?"
"Don't ask me," Rachel raised her hands in surrender. "It's all Ben's fault. Whatever he did to become all muscly and grown-up seems to have somehow affected Dobby as well."
"Alright, everyone!" Ben's Sonorous-enhanced voice rang out through the hall. "I know you were not expecting this ragtag group of newbies"—he gestured to himself and his band—"to be your entertainment for the evening. But you know what they say," he added with a smile, "just because something is different doesn't mean it has to be bad. All we ask—is that you try to enjoy this evening to the fullest!"
Before the eyes of the curious and sceptical audience, the boys started to play.
🎶🎵B-B-B-Baby, c'mon over
I don't care if people find out
(Da-da, da-da-da, da-da, da, da)
They say that we're no good together
And it's never gonna work out
(Da-da, da-da-da, da-da, da, da)🎵🎶
The crowd paused, surprised. The pleasant yet unfamiliar rhythm drew everyone's attention to the stage. Those who had been grumbling about the absence of their favourite band fell silent. The initial resistance didn't vanish, but it certainly weakened. Scepticism shifted into curiosity.
🎶🎵But baby you got me moving too fast
'Cause I know you wanna be bad
And girl when you're looking like that
(Da-da, da-da-da) I can't hold back🎵🎶
Heads began nodding, feet started tapping. Small groups of students edged closer to the stage, eager to see where this was going.
🎶🎵'Cause you, you've got this spell on me
I don't know what to believe
Kiss you once, now I can't leave
'Cause everything you do is magic
But everything you do is ma-a-agic🎵🎶
The change was almost immediate. The rhythm settled. Shoulders loosened. A few students began to move, testing the beat. On stage, every drum hit sent ripples of light through the woven runes on Dobby's vest.
🎶🎵So le-le-let them take the pictures
Spread it all around the world now
(Da-da, da-da-da, da-da, da, da)
I wanna put it on my record
I want everyone to know now
(Da-da, da-da-da, da-da, da, da)🎵🎶
Movement spread outward from the center, growing less restrained with each passing moment. What had begun as hesitant swaying turned into rhythm. Clapping emerged—first scattered, then synchronized. Everyone began to realise this was no amateur school performance; this was something well-written and well-rehearsed.
🎶🎵But baby you got me moving too fast
'Cause I know you wanna be bad
And girl when you're looking like that
(Da-da, da-da-da) I can't hold back🎵🎶
Boys and girls started dancing with their partners. The energy in the hall lifted, rising in waves as more students gave in to it. By the time the chorus returned, the crowd moved as one body. The earlier caution had vanished entirely. The performance was no longer being judged—it was being experienced.
🎶🎵'Cause you, you've got this spell on me
I don't know what to believe
Kiss you once, now I can't leave
'Cause everything you do is magic
But everything you do is ma-a-agic🎵🎶
🎶🎵Oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh (C'mon)
Oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh
Kiss you once now I can't leave
'Cause everything you do is magic
But everything you do is ma-a-agic
(Da-da, da-da-da, da-da, da, da)🎵🎶
When the final note hit, there was no delay, no hesitation. The applause came instantly—loud and unified—filling the hall with a force that matched the energy that had built throughout the song. It wasn't polite acknowledgment.
It was absolute approval.
"Thank you, thank you all!" Ben called out over the applause, while Fred and George gave exaggerated bows. "This song is called Magic. Hope you enjoyed it!"
The crowd answered with another loud cheer.
"The next song," Ben continued, his voice softening slightly, "is dedicated to a special someone in my life." His eyes found Hermione. "It's called—One Thing."
🎶🎵I've tried playin' it cool
But when I'm lookin' at you
I can't ever be brave
'Cause you make my heart race🎵🎶
Hermione wasn't prepared for that.
The moment Ben's voice carried those words across the hall—and toward her—her stomach did a strange little flip. She froze for half a second, caught completely off guard, suddenly very aware that he was looking straight at her.
🎶🎵Shot me out of the sky
You're my kryptonite
You keep making me weak
Yeah, frozen and can't breathe🎵🎶
🎶🎵Something's gotta give now
'Cause I'm dying just to make you see
That I need you here with me now
'Cause you've got that one thing🎵🎶
There was no pretending anymore. Hermione's smile softened, her attention locking onto him as the rest of the hall faded into the background. She knew it was a performance. She knew that.
But it didn't feel like one.
🎶🎵So, get out, get out, get out of my head
And fall into my arms instead
I don't, I don't, don't know what it is
But I need that one thing
And you've got that one thing🎵🎶
She let out a quiet, breathless laugh, shaking her head slightly. There was something unfair about this—about him standing up there, completely at ease, saying things like that and meaning them just enough to make her feel it.
She should have been embarrassed.
Instead, she was… enjoying it.
🎶🎵Now I'm climbing the walls
But you don't notice at all
That I'm going out of my mind
All day and all night🎵🎶
🎶🎵Something's gotta give now
'Cause I'm dying just to know your name
And I need you here with me now
'Cause you've got that one thing🎵🎶
By now, the rest of the room barely registered. People were moving, dancing, laughing—but Hermione didn't care. Not really. Her attention stayed exactly where it had been pulled.
There was no awkwardness left. Just… something simple.
Something nice.
🎶🎵So, get out, get out, get out of my mind
And come on, come into my life
I don't, I don't, don't know what it is
But I need that one thing
And you've got that one thing🎵🎶
---
🎶🎵"Oh, don't you dare look back
Just keep your eyes on me."
I said, "You're holding back."
She said, "Shut up and dance with me!"
This woman is my destiny
She said, "Ooh-ooh-hoo
Shut up and dance with me."🎵🎶
"Come on!"
"I don't—Ginny, I can't—"
"Yes, you can," she shot back, not even slowing down.
One moment he was just standing there, watching his friend sing on stage like a rockstar; the next, poor Harry was being dragged onto the dance floor by the redheaded firecracker he had for a partner.
🎶🎵We were victims of the night
The chemical, physical, kryptonite
Helpless to the bass and the fading light
Oh, we were bound to get together
Bound to get together🎵🎶
🎶🎵She took my arm
I don't know how it happened🎵🎶
Well, he could certainly relate to that.
🎶🎵We took the floor and she said
"Oh, don't you dare look back
Just keep your eyes on me."
I said, "You're holding back."
She said, "Shut up and dance with me!"
This woman is my destiny
She said, "Ooh-ooh-hoo
Shut up and dance with me🎵🎶
He tried to keep up—tried being the operative word. The music hit fast—too fast—and suddenly everything felt louder, brighter, quicker. His steps went wrong almost immediately, his timing worse, and he was fairly certain he stepped on someone within the first few seconds.
Ginny didn't care.
She laughed, completely unbothered, and instead of slowing down, she adjusted, pulling him along with her.
🎶🎵A backless dress and some beat-up sneaks
My discothèque Juliet, teenage dream
I felt it in my chest as she looked at me
I knew we were bound to be together
Bound to be together🎵🎶
Harry stumbled, recovered, nearly tripped again, and then just… stopped trying to be good at it.
The moment he did, something strange happened.
The embarrassment faded.
He was still terrible—no question about that—but now he was laughing too, breathless and a little wild, caught up in the sheer momentum of it.
🎶🎵She took my arm
I don't know how it happened
We took the floor and she said🎵🎶
🎶🎵"Oh, don't you dare look back
Just keep your eyes on me."
I said, "You're holding back."
She said, "Shut up and dance with me!"
This woman is my destiny
She said, "Ooh-ooh-hoo
Shut up and dance with me."🎵🎶
Ginny spun once, quick and confident, and when she came back to him, he actually managed to match her step for half a beat before losing it again.
It didn't matter.
Around them, the hall had dissolved into motion—students dancing without any strict form—and for once, Harry wasn't thinking about how he looked, or who was watching, or what he was supposed to do next. He wasn't comparing himself to Cedric. He wasn't replaying Cho's voice in his head.
He was just there.
🎶🎵"Don't you dare look back
Just keep your eyes on me."
I said, "You're holding back."
She said, "Shut up and dance with me!"
This woman is my destiny
She said, "Ooh-ooh-hoo
Shut up and dance with me."🎵🎶
Ginny's hand still in his, her energy pulling him forward. He missed another step. Nearly collided with someone. Somehow didn't fall.
Ginny grinned like that was part of the plan.
And Harry realized, somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, that he was actually enjoying himself.
Not in spite of how bad he was at it. But because of it. He wasn't trying to get it right. He was just… dancing.
🎶🎵Ooh-ooh-hoo, shut up and dance with me
Ooh-ooh-hoo, shut up and dance with me🎵🎶
And that, somehow, was enough.
---
🎶🎵Any way you want it
That's the way you need it
Any way you want it🎵🎶
Half a second—that was all the time she gave him before Luna caught Neville's hand and pulled him forward.
She was already moving, completely in sync with the music in a way that didn't look practiced at all—it just was. Neville stumbled once as he followed, nearly missing a step, but the rhythm was fast and bright and didn't give him time to overthink it.
And somehow, that helped.
🎶🎵She loves to laugh
She loves to sing
She does everything
She loves to move
She loves to groove
She loves the lovin' things🎵🎶
Luna spun lightly in front of him, her movements loose and unpredictable, completely unconcerned with what anyone else was doing. Neville tried to match her, failed immediately, then laughed under his breath and just… went with it.
🎶🎵Ooh, all night
All night
Oh, every night
So hold tight
Hold tight
Ooh, baby, hold tight🎵🎶
🎶🎵Oh, she said, "Any way you want it
That's the way you need it
Any way you want it"
She said, "Any way you want it
That's the way you need it
Any way you want it"🎵🎶
The music picked up, and so did the crowd. Students were clapping, dancing, turning in every direction, and Neville found himself getting swept into it.
🎶🎵I was alone
I never knew
What good love could do
Ooh, then we touched
Then we sang
About the lovin' things🎵🎶
🎶🎵Ooh, all night
All night
Oh, every night
So hold tight
Hold tight
Ooh baby, hold tight🎵🎶
Luna moved around him like she was following a rhythm only she could hear, and somehow, without understanding how, he started keeping up. He turned when she turned, stepped when she stepped—sometimes a beat late, sometimes completely off—but it didn't matter.
Because Luna didn't care.
And gradually—
Neither did he.
🎶🎵Oh, she said, "Any way you want it
That's the way you need it
Any way you want it"
I said, "Any way you want it
That's the way you need it
Any way you want it"🎵🎶
Ben then launched into a devastatingly fast guitar solo, and Neville had no idea how he was pulling it off. Ben dropped to his knees, fingers flying across the strings faster than seemed possible.
The result—the crowd lost its mind. Cheers erupted, loud enough to almost shake the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall.
🎶🎵She said, "Ohh
Hold on
Hold on
Hold on"🎵🎶
Luna grabbed both of Neville's hands and spun them in a circle, her laughter light and free. Neville nearly lost his footing again, caught himself just in time, and ended up laughing too—really laughing, not the quiet, unsure kind.
🎶🎵Oh, she said, "Any way you want it
That's the way you need it
Any way you want it
Any way you want it
That's the way you need it
Any way you want it"🎵🎶
The crowd around them blurred into motion and sound, but Neville barely noticed anymore. He wasn't comparing himself. Wasn't worrying about how he looked or whether he was doing it right.
He was just there. Just someone having a really, genuinely good time.
And that, more than anything else that night—
Felt incredible.
---
(Ben's POV)
At around eleven, Hermione and I quietly slipped out of the Great Hall while Fred, George, and Dobby continued entertaining the crowd with music and questionable amounts of charisma. The moment we stepped through the Entrance Hall and out the open front doors, the noise behind us faded into a distant blur. Cold winter air brushed against my face, sharp and refreshing after the warmth of the packed hall.
The enchanted rose garden stretched across the castle grounds like something out of a fairy tale. Rose bushes lined winding ornamental paths, fairy lights fluttered and twinkled overhead, and moonlight silvered the frost-touched hedges and statues scattered throughout the garden.
Hermione let out a breathless laugh beside me.
"I have never danced so much in my life."
I grinned. "Not bad for a school prom, huh?"
She smiled up at me. "Not bad at all."
After a moment, she shook her head lightly. "I still can't believe you can do… all that." She gestured vaguely back toward the castle. "Since when do you sing and play the guitar so well?"
I smiled cheekily. "I realised years ago, my dear, that no matter the time or place, chicks dig musicians."
Hermione smacked my arm at once.
"Prat," she muttered, though she was laughing.
We continued down one of the winding paths through the rosebushes. Large stone statues stood here and there between the hedges, and somewhere nearby I could hear the soft splashing of water from a fountain. Couples sat scattered across carved stone benches beneath the fairy lights, talking quietly in secluded little pockets of moonlight and shadow.
Hermione slipped her arm more firmly through mine as we walked, then rested her head lightly against my shoulder.
"You know," she said softly, "as much as I enjoyed the concert… I liked our first dance more."
I looked down at her and smiled.
"Me too," I admitted. "Perhaps we should have another dance. One with a song just for the two of us."
She tilted her head up slightly. "Can we?"
"The night isn't over yet," I said.
We rounded a bend and came upon a large stone reindeer beside a tall fountain whose sparkling jets glittered silver beneath the moonlight.
Unfortunately, we also found Hagrid and Madame Maxime.
The two of them were sitting together on a stone bench near the fountain, partially hidden in shadow.
"Momen' I saw yeh, I knew," Hagrid was saying, in an oddly husky voice.
"What did you know, Hagrid?" said Madame Maxime, a purr in her low voice.
Hermione and I exchanged a glance.
Private conversation.
We quietly attempted to retreat the way we had come.
Unfortunately, the path behind us was now occupied by Professor Moody and Professor Sinistra, who seemed to be enjoying an equally romantic stroll of their own.
Left with no choice, Hermione and I remained where we were behind the statue while Hagrid continued, blissfully unaware of the existence of privacy.
"I jus' knew… knew you were like me…" he said quietly. "Was it yer mother or yer father?"
Madame Maxime stiffened slightly.
"I—I do not know what you mean, Hagrid…"
Oh no.
Oh Hagrid, no.
"It was my mother," said Hagrid quietly. "She was one o' the las' ones in Britain. 'Course, I can' remember her too well... she left, see. When I was abou' three. She wasn' really the maternal sort. Well... it's not in their natures, is it? Dunno what happened to her... might be dead fer all I know...."
I closed my eyes briefly.
Yep.
Half-giant conversation.
And judging by Madame Maxime's increasingly uncomfortable expression, Hagrid was about three sentences away from launching his entire relationship directly off a cliff.
"Me dad was broken-hearted when she wen'. Tiny little bloke, my dad was. By the time I was six I could lift him up an' put him on top o' the dresser if he annoyed me. Used ter make him laugh...." Hagrid's deep voice broke. Madame Maxime was listening, motionless, apparently staring at the silvery fountain. "Dad raised me... but he died, o' course, jus' after I started school. Sorta had ter make me own way after that. Dumbledore was a real help, mind. Very kind ter me, he was...."
I decided I needed to intervene before Hagrid accidentally detonated his own budding relationship.
Giving Hermione's hand a quick squeeze, I mouthed, I'll be right back, then stepped out from behind the stone reindeer.
Hagrid had just finished blowing his nose loudly into a handkerchief roughly the size of a tablecloth and was saying, "So… anyway… enough abou' me. What abou—"
"Hagrid, there you are!" I called brightly as I came into view.
Both Hagrid and Madame Maxime looked startled.
I offered them an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I hope I'm not interrupting."
Madame Maxime—who actually looked rather relieved by the interruption—gave me a graceful smile. "It is quite alright, Mr Carter."
Hagrid's face lit up immediately.
"Ben!" he boomed happily. "Ruddy good show out there, mate!"
I grinned. "Thanks, Hagrid. I'm actually here because Dumbledore was looking for you."
"The headmaster's lookin' fer me?" he asked.
I nodded seriously. "Yep. He didn't say what about, but I think it might be important."
That did the trick instantly.
Hagrid turned back toward Madame Maxime, looking genuinely regretful. "I'm sorry, Olympe. I gotta go now."
Madame Maxime smiled softly. "It is alright, Hagrid. We shall speak later."
Hagrid carefully took her hand in his enormous one and placed a surprisingly gentle kiss upon it. He gave her one last smile before turning away.
"I'll come with you," I said casually. "There's something I need to talk to you about as well."
I gave Madame Maxime a polite nod before starting down the path, Hagrid lumbering after me with a somewhat confused expression.
---
(Fleur's POV)
Fleur Delacour's night was not going as planned.
It wasn't the food. As much as she usually complained about Hogwarts cuisine, she could find very little fault with tonight's menu. It wasn't the ambience either. For a draughty old castle, the place did not look half bad once it had been properly decorated.
And it certainly wasn't the music.
Oh, the music.
When those redheaded twins had taken the stage alongside Benjamin, Fleur—like everyone else in the hall—had been justifiably sceptical. After all, what kind of music could a group of schoolboys possibly perform compared to professional singers?
But the moment they began to play, Fleur's doubts had been swept away almost instantly.
She had been completely captivated from the very first song.
The lyrics, the rhythm, the atmosphere—it could only be described as magnifique. She had never heard songs like these before, yet within moments she had found herself doing the same thing as everyone else around her—cheering, laughing, moving with the music without even realizing it.
So yes, in many ways, it had been a wonderful evening.
There was just one problem that almost single-handedly ruined it.
Her date.
Fleur sighed as she stepped out through the castle's front doors alone.
Most people assumed that a girl as beautiful as Fleur must have boys lining up to ask her to the ball.
How very wrong they were.
Fleur would never pretend that her beauty was a burden. That would have been dishonest. She knew perfectly well the effect she had on people.
But that did not mean it never worked to her disadvantage.
Most boys were far too intimidated to approach her at all, terrified of rejection before they had even spoken. Others simply assumed a girl like her must already be taken. And the few who did manage to ask her out were, more often than not, not worth her time.
Not that it had ever truly bothered her. Fleur knew her own worth.
She was more than just a pretty face. She was the top student of Beauxbatons. She had outperformed her peers for years, won awards and distinctions, and earned her place as a Triwizard Champion. She had no interest in boys who lacked either confidence or substance.
Truthfully, Fleur had never intended to bring a date to the Yule Ball at all. The person she had actually wanted to attend with was, unfortunately, already going with someone else.
Originally, she had planned to come alongside Gabrielle, but Madame Maxime had informed her that the champions were required to perform the opening dance and therefore needed proper partners.
Left with little choice, Fleur had selected Roger Davies from among the boys who had asked her.
To be fair, Roger was not terrible. He was fairly handsome, a Quidditch player, and a decent enough dancer. Under different circumstances, Fleur was sure she could have enjoyed his company tonight.
Alas, Roger simply was not… him.
Fleur groaned softly as she wandered deeper into the rose garden.
Why, of all people, did she have to feel attracted to someone whose heart so obviously already belonged to another?
From everything she had seen, Benjamin loved his girlfriend deeply. And Hermione Granger loved him just as much.
Fleur had learned within her very first week at Hogwarts that Benjamin Carter was in a relationship. Whatever curiosity she had initially felt toward him, she had firmly pushed aside after that. Yes, he was handsome—ridiculously handsome—charming, intelligent, wealthy, talented…
But Fleur Delacour was no homewrecker.
She had no intention of interfering in a loving relationship.
Then he had gone and made it impossible for her to ignore him anyway.
He had warned her about the dragons.
Even now, Fleur still could not fully comprehend the insanity of the Tournament organisers. Dragons. Nesting dragons. For schoolchildren.
Had Benjamin not told her beforehand, Fleur genuinely did not know what would have happened to her in that arena. She might have frozen completely. Fainted, perhaps.
And fainting would probably have been one of the better outcomes.
At first, she had not truly believed him. Why would someone willingly share such valuable information with competitors? Would she have done the same in his position?
Ashamedly, Fleur suspected the answer was no.
Yet Benjamin had done it simply because he believed it was the right thing to do.
That single act of kindness had very likely saved her life.
Which made this entire situation all the more frustrating.
Even with Roger sitting beside her all evening, Fleur's eyes had kept drifting back toward Benjamin.
Eventually, unable to tolerate her own thoughts any longer, Fleur settled onto a half-hidden carved bench behind a rose bush. Lost in thought, she watched couples wander through the enchanted garden beneath the fairy lights.
"Alright, that's far enough," sounded a familiar voice from the other side of the bush.
Fleur immediately straightened.
She recognized that voice at once.
Benjamin.
"Hagrid, we need to talk."
"About what?" came the rough voice of the groundskeeper. "An' can we do this later, Ben? Don' wanna keep the headmaster waitin'."
"Actually, I lied about that," Benjamin admitted. "Dumbledore didn't call for you. I only said that to get you away from Madame Maxime."
At the mention of her headmistress, Fleur edged slightly closer to the hedge.
"Olympe?" Hagrid sounded confused. "Why?"
Benjamin sighed.
"Because you were about to make a great mistake, Hagrid. Tell me, what were you thinking, talking about your half-giant heritage in a place where you could be so easily overheard?"
Fleur quickly suppressed a gasp.
A half-giant?
How had she missed it?
But now that the thought had entered her mind, it suddenly seemed obvious. Hagrid was enormous—far bigger than any person Fleur had ever seen.
Except perhaps Madame Maxime.
"You heard that?" Hagrid asked in horror.
"Yes," Benjamin replied. "Hermione and I both did. Thankfully, nobody else seemed to be around. But more importantly, it appeared you were about to ask Madame Maxime about her own parentage. That's why I had to get you out of there."
Fleur felt immediate indignation rise in her chest.
How could that oaf even think of asking Madame Maxime something so personal?
"Well…" Hagrid said sheepishly. "I jus' wanted ter get ter know her better, yeh know? Never met another one like me before."
Benjamin's voice softened slightly.
"I understand that. But you need to realise this might be a very sensitive topic for her. Just like you, Madame Maxime has probably dealt with prejudice her entire life because of her heritage."
He paused before continuing.
"To rise to the position she holds now, she almost certainly faced far more discrimination than you did—especially considering you had Dumbledore protecting you for years. If you had asked her about it so casually after knowing her for less than two months…" He sighed. "Honestly, I'd be surprised if she ever spoke to you again."
A long silence followed.
"I didn' think o' that…" Hagrid sounded genuinely miserable now. "What've I done? What if she never wants ter speak ter me again?!"
"Relax," Benjamin said. "I got you out before you could do any permanent damage."
Hagrid audibly sagged with relief.
"Just… next time you see her, pretend tonight's conversation never happened. Don't bring up her heritage unless she chooses to."
"Got it!" Hagrid said quickly. "Thanks, Ben. I know I say a lot o' things I ought ter keep me mouth shut about. Thanks fer helpin' me out."
"Hey, that's what friends are for," Benjamin replied lightly. "Now I should probably get back to my date. I've got one last thing planned for tonight."
"Good luck!" Hagrid called after him.
Fleur waited until Hagrid's footsteps faded before emerging quietly from behind the hedge.
Then, after only a moment's hesitation, she followed the path Benjamin had taken.
A couple minutes later, she found him.
He stood beside Hermione Granger near a tall fountain beneath the winter moonlight. Fleur quickly slipped behind a large stone reindeer statue before either of them could notice her.
Frankly, Fleur had never considered Granger particularly beautiful before. Pleasant, certainly. Intelligent. But not breathtaking.
Now, however…
Wearing that soft blue dress, her hair shining beneath the fairy lights, her face glowing with warmth and happiness—
Hermione looked radiant.
And Fleur suddenly understood.
Perhaps beauty truly did lie in the eye of the beholder.
Perhaps beneath all the bookishness and bushy hair, this was what Benjamin had always seen in her.
And perhaps tonight, everyone else was finally seeing it too.
Benjamin reached into his pocket, took out his Wiphone, and placed it carefully on a nearby bench. A soft melody began to play moments later. Then he took Hermione's hand.
🎶🎵Baby, standing here with you
With your arms around my shoulders
We're dancing with the moon
And, baby, it feels just like a dream
When I whisper that I love you
And you say it back to me
I got you for the rest of my days
In the sun of Sunday morning or the pouring rain
I got you for the rest of my life
And if all else goes wrong, baby, I'll be alright
'Cause I got you🎵🎶
They danced.
Slowly.
Closely.
Like the rest of the world no longer existed.
Fleur felt something ache painfully inside her chest as she watched them sway together beneath the fairy lights and moonlit roses.
The moment felt so intimate that she almost felt guilty for witnessing it.
But stronger than guilt was the jealousy.
Because she wanted that.
Merlin, she wanted it so badly.
Fleur blinked rapidly and wiped discreetly at her eyes before the tears could fully gather.
Then, quietly, she turned and walked away—
Leaving behind the happiness she desperately wished had been hers.
---
12:34 am, 26th December 1994
Ben's Dorm Room
As I loosened my bowtie, I watched in the mirror as the smile refused to leave my face.
Tonight had been perfect.
Not good. Not memorable. Not "better than expected."
Perfect.
Everything from the first waltz to the concert to that final private dance with Hermione beneath the stars in the rose garden—it had all felt unreal in the best possible way. Like something carefully stitched together from every ridiculous magical-school fantasy prom I had ever imagined as a kid.
The music.
The lights.
Her smile.
The feeling of Hermione in my arms while the fountain shimmered nearby and the fairy lights drifted overhead like floating stars.
I let out a long breath.
Yeah.
Tonight had been perfect.
Then the smile was abruptly wiped off my face when I felt a sensation I had only experienced once before.
About two years ago.
Wordlessly, I raised my hand and summoned my greatest creation.
The Anywhere Door materialized in the middle of my dorm room in all its emergency red-blinking glory. Crimson light pulsed across its surface while warning sigils shimmered faintly around the frame.
The connection I shared with the conceptual artefact told me exactly what was happening. Once again, somewhere out there, a magically reactive child needed help.
I sighed again. This one considerably less happy than the previous sigh.
"Why does this thing always activate near midnight?" I muttered.
Reaching into my Storage Ring, I pulled out another circular object roughly the size of a pocket watch.
My greatest fear when using the Anywhere Door had never been death.
It had been time.
More specifically—time dilation.
What if I stepped into another universe where time flowed differently? What if an hour there became years here? What if I returned after a "short trip" only to find everyone I cared about already gone?
That possibility had terrified me enough that I had immediately started searching for a solution after my first journey.
The long-term answer was timeline synchronization.
By using the Anywhere Door itself as a conceptual anchor, I theorized that I could forcibly stabilize the rate of temporal flow between universes as long as the Door remained active.
Unfortunately, synchronizing timelines across dimensions turned out to be slightly more complicated than building magical smartphones. The full synchronization system was still incomplete. I estimated another six or seven months before I could finish it properly.
In the meantime, however, I had created another device. The one currently in my hand.
A temporal differential reader.
I pressed the circular device against the surface of the Anywhere Door. Golden runes spread outward across the frame as the device calibrated.
A few seconds later, glowing numbers appeared.
1.64x
I relaxed slightly.
Not bad.
Time flowed faster on the other side, but not catastrophically so. A few days or even a week should not make much of a difference.
As the red light on the Anywhere Door began blinking faster, I took out my Wiphone and quickly typed out a group message.
Going on another quick trip. See you all in a few days.
I hit send, pocketed the phone, and mentally checked the contents of my Storage Ring.
Food.
Potions.
Medical supplies.
Drones.
Weapons.
Standard travel essentials, really.
Satisfied with my preparations, I stepped forward and grasped the handle. Opening the door, I walked through.
The first thing that hit me was the smell.
Burning insulation. Concrete dust. Smoke. Melted metal. Blood.
The second thing was the cold.
Freezing winter air howled through the shattered remains of what had once clearly been an apartment. The place looked like it had just been bombed.
Literally.
Half the room had been ripped open to the freezing night air. One entire wall was simply gone, exposing the apartment like a dollhouse cut in half. Shattered furniture and powdered concrete were scattered everywhere. The remains of what looked like a kitchen smouldered weakly in one corner while twisted metal groaned somewhere above me.
But the thing that immediately arrested my attention was the mortar shell embedded in the floor only a few feet away from me.
Its sleek metallic casing looked grotesquely clean compared to the devastation surrounding it. A red indicator light blinked steadily faster along its side.
And stamped across the missile in bold silver letters was a single word.
STARK
My eyes widened slightly.
No way.
Then the blinking light abruptly sped up.
BOOM!