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Harry knows he should be happy he found a date. One that even looks good if he should believe Ron and Neville. Someone who won’t embarrass him on the dance floor when he’s forced to dance in front of the whole school. Really, Parvati is great. And that she convinced her sister to take Ron to the ball, shows that she’s kind too. Or maybe just after Harry for his fame, as Hermione said. But who cares. It’s not like Harry likes her. If it had been up to him, he’d be here with Clo.
Cho stands next to Cedric now, looking in love and happy. Harry thinks he should feel something about it. But the trued is, he doesn’t care. He’s glad that Cho is happy with Cedric. She would have been miserable if she would have to go with Harry. Harry is nothing like Cedric. He’s just a small little boy, with hair that never wants to stay in line and an ugly scar on his face. He will never be as handsome as Cedric, with his long legs and his dazzling smile.
Others move passed Harry and Parvati to get into the great hall. Harry doesn’t pay them much attention. And for once everyone isn’t looking at him, but instead at Hermione. She looks gorgeous tonight, her arm linked with Viktor Krum. Ron is still pissed off about it. He couldn’t believe his eyes when Hermione walked in with the Durmstrang student. Harry is sure that Parvati’s sister is fed up by now with Ron. Knowing him, he’ll still be complaining about Hermione and Krum.
A familiar voice snaps Harry out of his thoughts. Malfoy walks by with Parkinson on his arm. Harry follows him with his eyes until he’s out of sight. He looks good in his black velvet dress robes and his hair falling over the high collar. He’s talking to Parkinson who laughs and Harry wants to punch her. She’s so annoying. The perfect little pureblood bride for Malfoy.
“What you’re staring at?” Parvati asks.
Harry shakes his head and looks away from the doors leading to the great hall. “Nothing,” he says. “Just nervous about the dance.”
“You do know how to dance, don’t you?” Parvati says. “I won’t have you embarrass me in there.”
Harry almost laughs. He has no clue how to dance. But it’s too late to tell anyone that now or try to find someone who can teach him. Malfoy will have a good laugh when he sees Harry struggle to not step on his date’s feet all the time. Harry is sure that Malfoy is an excellent dancer. Parkinson will be flying over the dance floor all evening.
In that moment professor McGonagall ushers them all towards the doors to make their big entrance. Cedric and Cho lead the way, followed by Fleur and her partner and Krum with Hermione. Harry takes Parvati’s arm and they walk into the great hall. All the other students are already at their tables. Harry scans the room and scrawls when he spots the platinum hair of Malfoy. He doesn’t pay attention to the champions at all. His face is turned towards Parkinson, who is laughing again. Why is she always laughing when Malfoy talks. Surely he can’t be that funny all the time.
Dinner starts and everyone around Harry is talking with each other. Harry doesn’t pay them much attention. He keeps staring at Malfoy on the other side of the room. He looks like he’s having a good time with his friends and Parkinson.
Parvati tries to start a conversation with Harry a couple of times, but he just can’t be bothered. Why did he agree to bring her anyway? He should have just asked Hermione as soon as he heard he had to take a date, that he couldn’t go solo as a champion. At least then he would have had one of his friends sitting next to him, instead of on the other side of the table, making googly eyes at Viktor Krum.
The first dance is a disaster. Harry messes up all the steps and Parvati storms off the dance floor as soon as the song is over. Harry follows her and sits down next to Ron. The Patel twins go and get some drinks and never return. Harry doesn’t care. His eyes are fixed on Malfoy, swaying over the dance floor with Parkinson in his arms. They laugh and smile and seem to have a great time.
“Can you believe her?” Ron says. “Fraternising with the enemy. I thought she was better than that.”
Harry hums in agreement, but he can’t get his eyes to move away from the blond hair that swings around Malfoy’s face to take a look at how Hermione is dancing with Krum.
“Dances should be forbidden,” Harry says when the music slows down and Parkinson moves closer to Malfoy to lay her chin on his shoulder. If Harry had someone to dance with, he would do so, just so he could get close enough to trip that freaking bitch. All cuddled up with Malfoy, as she belongs there. And Malfoy doesn’t even seem to mind.
“Are you even listening to me?” Ron suddenly asks. “And what is it you’re looking at. Hermione and Krum left the dance floor ages ago.”
Harry shakes his head. “Nothing. What was it you said,” he says. He knows he should look at Ron, stop him from following his line of sight, but he just can’t. He wants them to trip, to stumble, to stop dancing. He needs Malfoy to stop dancing with that cow.
“Bloody hell, Harry. Don’t tell me you’ve been staring at Cedric and Cho all evening. I’m sorry, mate, but I don’t think your evil eye is going to make them split up,” Ron says.
Harry shakes his head. “Who gives a fuck about Cedric?” Harry says. As soon as the words are out of his mouth he knows he made a mistake. He’s supposed to be crushing on Cho, was so only a couple of weeks ago. She was good on a broom. Harry can’t help he has a soft spot for seekers. But she’s nothing compared to Cedric, or Malfoy. Malfoy knows how to handle his broom, how to make Harry work for his win. It’s a shame there is no Quidditch this year, no excuse to go look at Malfoy showing off his skills.
“Hermione was right, wasn’t she?” Ron asks.
“Hermione is always right,” Harry answers.
“So you’re like… You dig boys as well as girls?” Ron stammers.
Harry snaps his head towards Ron. “I…” he starts, but he’s not sure what to say. They never talk about this. Yes, they do discuss girls when Hermione is not around. But Harry never really gets it. Cho is sweet, and amazing on a broom, but Harry doesn’t feel like kissing her. He doesn’t dream about her, like how he dreams about Cedric and Malfoy. But that’s his secret. Nobody should know it.
“I don’t care, you know,” Ron says now with some more confidence. “As long as you don’t try to kiss me, or Hermione for that matter, we’re cool.”
“I don’t want to kiss you,” Harry almost shouts. The idea is insane. Ron and Hermione are like his brother and sister. He has no intention of ever kissing any one of them.
“Good,” Ron says just before his face turns into a scrawl. Hermione sits down next to Harry, accompanied by Krum. That explains the scrawl on Ron’s face.
“What do you want,” Ron snaps.
“Oh, Ron, stop acting like a jealous bitch,” Hermione says.
Harry looks at Ron and then back at Hermione. Ron is acting jealous. And Harry doesn’t think it’s because Krum is his competition in the tournament. No, Ron had wanted to take Hermione to the dance, as his date. He’s been acting towards them the same way as Harry has been looking at Malfoy and Parkinson. His eyes find the blond on the dance floor again. Harry doesn’t hate him. He wants to be the one swaying in his arms. And the hatred he’s felt all evening towards Parkinson, it’s the same kind of jealousy Ron has been feeling towards Krum. Harry is jealous. And fucked. How come he never realised he’s fallen for the Slytherin? Because right now he knows for sure. He’s in love with Draco Malfoy.