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"I heard," Lisa started, even as she carefully measured out a length of parchment, "that Roger Davies asked you to go to the Yule Ball with him."
Jean simply rolled her eyes and flipped the page of the Old Persian compendium in her lap.
A hint of a grimace flitted across Jean's face. Lisa could not be sure if it was because of the piece of gossip she just shared, or from growing disgust as a layer of dust slowly caked Jean's fingertips one worn page at a time. So, Lisa did what any sensible person would do: she probed further.
"I also heard that you turned him down. Is that true?" asked Lisa.
Jean exhaled audibly.
"Lisa," said Jean. Lisa did not think a warning could sound this tired.
"Come on, Jean."
"I don't even know him-"
"You're really going to try to tell me that you don't know Roger Davies, captain of the-"
"I know he's the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, thank you very much," said Jean, snapping her book shut, "but I don't know him."
"But I do know you well enough to know this isn't really about him," accused Jean. "So, what is this really about, Lisa?"
Lisa stalled with an amused hum, entertained by the way Jean’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
"If you really know me that well, Jean, then you should already know."
Jean pressed her lips into a thin line. With the way Jean kept her eyes fixed on an empty spot of the desk, it seemed like Lisa wouldn't have to wait long for the response she wanted.
Lisa's eyebrows raised when Jean's lips parted. Lisa could see the tip of Jean's tongue peeking between her teeth. Lisa briefly wondered if Jean was aware of this adorable habit of hers whenever she tried to find the words she wanted to speak.
"I," Jean started, prompting Lisa to lean in closer. "I-"
But then there was that twitch in Jean's jaw and her eyes steeled. Putting her stationery away with more force than was necessary, Jean declared, "I have to go."
Lisa dropped her face into her hands and groaned, "Come on, Jean."
"I have Potions. Professor Snape isn't going to be pleased if I'm late."
"Professor Snape is never pleased, anyway."
"It doesn't change the fact that I have to go," said Jean with finality. "We can talk later."
"All I'm trying to say is that there is no point to waiting around for her to ask——"
"I know," Jean cut Lisa off. Lisa was not prepared for the severity in her tone. "Trust me, I know."
As she left the empty classroom, Jean spared a brief glance over her shoulder. Had Lisa been anyone else, Lisa knew Jean would have slipped in a hasty apology. But she was Lisa, and they were way past the point of such distant politeness.
"She's asking Amber," said Jean simply. She wore a smile that reminded Lisa far too much of autumn leaves — beautiful, but oh-so brittle.
Lisa was at a loss for words. A weight settled quickly on her chest and refused to leave even after Jean had made her exit.
In that moment, Lisa came exceedingly close to hating Eula Lawrence.
Despite the bite of the December wind (or, perhaps, because of it), it was a fine day to be charming Quaffles to fly at one's best friend.
Eula shook her head, saying, "I don't understand why you refuse to try out for the House team when you love Quidditch this much."
"We already have Katie, Alicia and Angelina; they're much better than I am," Amber said, even as she easily plucked the Quaffle threatening to zoom past her out of the air and tucked it under her arm.
Eula watched the blurred streak that was Amber race towards the goal posts on the other end of the pitch, counting down quietly in her mind. She didn't have a clear view but reckoned this would be a good time as any to try summoning the Quaffle back towards her. Silently drawing an arc in the air, Eula waited to see if the ball would heed her call.
One second became two, which then became three. It was only at the 5 second mark that Eula let out the breath that she was holding, once the speck that was the Quaffle came into view. By the time Amber arrived, the Quaffle was waiting for her by Eula's side.
"That was absolutely brilliant," Amber called out, beaming brighter than the sparkling snow on the ground far below them. "You're getting the hang of nonverbal spells already."
"I won't forgive you if you make a fuss out of it," said Eula, though a rosy tint seemed to have found its way to her face. "I am supposed to learn it next year, after all. It's not a big deal."
"Anyway, I've been meaning to ask," said Eula, speaking a little louder than usual (in Amber's opinion, at least), "if you will be going to the Ball."
"Can't," Amber shrugged. "It's open to Fourth Years and above, and I'm only a Third Year, so..."
"Surely someone has asked you."
"Hmm, only Ginny has had the luck so far," replied Amber.
"In that case, do you want to go to the Ball? With me, that is. As friends," clarified Eula.
Eula watched as Amber's eyes widened slightly. Try as she may, she couldn't keep the corners of her mouth from turning upwards at the way a smile slowly broke across Amber’s face.
"Seriously?" asked Amber.
"Don't make me regret asking," replied Eula in jest.
"That would be wonderful!" exclaimed Amber, dismounting from her Nimbus. "I'd love to! But I'll have to get some dressrobes and—"
Eula did not like the way Amber stopped herself mid-sentence.
"What about Jean?"
It should not have taken Eula as much effort as it did to sound casual when she repeated Amber's question.
"Wouldn't you want to go with her?" asked Amber.
"As a Seventh Year, she can go without a date — not that she would have to go alone, given the line of people waiting to ask her out," explained Eula. "You on the other hand—"
"You should go with her, Eula. It's a once-in-a-lifetime event."
"All the more reason I should go with you," Eula insisted.
Amber opened her mouth as if to argue, paused and then closed it. She shook her head.
"Did you even ask her?"
"How could I?" replied Eula. "It would make no sense for me to ask her first when I've decided I would ask you."
Amber pinched the bridge of her nose, "It's amazing how dense you can be."
Shaking her head, Amber decided, "Eula, I'm not going with you."
Eula, who had opened her mouth to retort, promptly closed it when she realised it was a lost cause. Despite her better judgment, she warned, "I will remember this," before trudging down the stairs.
Amber let herself flop onto the Quidditch stand bench only after Eula's footfalls sounded sufficiently distant. Draping an arm over her eyes, she mumbled to herself, "Oh, Eula... What am I supposed to do with you?"
It was very, very rare that Miss Lisa Minci would volunteer herself up to spar — so rare, in fact, that Professor Flitwick could count the number of times it has happened on his fingers.
"Now, Ms Minci," cautioned Lisa's Head of House, "be sure not to take Ms Lawrence lightly. She may be a Fifth Year, but Ms Lawrence has proven herself gifted in Charms and the art of dueling."
Lisa simply flashed her most winsome smile and rose to her feet, "Of course, Professor."
When the two duellists came within vicinity of one another at the preparation station, Eula commented, "You're oddly motivated today, Minci. When was the last time you volunteered?"
"After a little more than six years in this club, it’s hard to find things exciting anymore," Lisa made a show of lamenting. "How about we duel for stakes, Eula darling? That would be plenty exciting, I think."
"Confident, are we? You'll regret it, you know. What's the prize?"
"Oh, something simple," said Lisa. She kept her tone light but the look in Lisa's green eyes reminded Eula far too much of broken glass bottles. "Winner makes a request the loser can't refuse?"
Eula tutted. "Such a Ravenclaw — so stingy with information when it benefits you."
Lisa simply shrugged while she adjusted her wand holster. The coquettish look she sent Eula from beneath her long lashes threatened to get under Eula's skin.
"Fine, I agree to that wager. But you better bring your best if you want so much as a chance of winning," Eula said.
"Always so proud, Eula dear," teased Lisa, starting towards the raised platform. "As an upperclassman, perhaps I can still teach you a thing or two."
***
Anyone remotely active in the Duelling circuit would have heard of the three things that made Eula Lawrence such a formidable opponent: one, her unusual affinity for the Full Body-Bind Curse; two, the way every spell of hers seemed to land like a battering ram; and, three, the aggressive way she tended to start her battles. So, it was to everyone's surprised that the first word to leave Eula's lips when the duel started was a slightly alarmed, "Protego!"
It proved to be the right call, for even when Eula gave the Shield Charm her all, Lisa’s Stinging Hex packed enough of a punch that it pushed Eula a clear 6 inches backwards. From the corner of her eye, Eula caught a glimpse of Professor Flitwick with his mouth hanging agape. The sight made Eula grit her teeth; what an embarrassing performance she was putting on.
But Lisa was not about to let Eula dwell on her thoughts. A burst of red light erupted from Lisa's wand, following in the wake of the earlier Stinging Hex. Eula did not have time to throw another Shield Charm up. Acting on pure reflex, Eula twisted her body out of the Stunner's way—
Only to find herself strung up by her left ankle.
Across the stage, Lisa wore the most indulgent smirk Eula ever did see.
With her face still burning up — whether from rage, being hung upside down, or suddenly having to make a mad grab at her robes lest they flip past her waist, Eula was not entirely sure herself —Eula braced herself for the fall and muttered the counter-curse. She nonetheless ended up as a crumpled heap on the ground when the curse lifted.
Though her instincts screamed at her to get back on her feet, Eula swiftly shot a jet of water at Lisa from her supine position, catching the Seventh Year off guard.
While Lisa spluttered and shielded her face with her hand, she left herself open to Eula's Full Body-Bind Curse. Lisa knew it was over when she felt her limbs lock. Having been frozen completely still, Lisa could not even cushion her fall, much less resist when Eula's Disarming Charm wrenched her wand from her grasp.
What a shame. Lisa thought she would last at least three minutes against the duelling protégé.
From beyond her line of sight, Professor Flitwick called the end of the match. The flippant way Eula dusted herself off and sauntered over left Lisa’s jaw clenched even after Eula lifted the curse. Lisa did not consider herself a particularly petty person but a part of her desperately wanted to swat Eula's offered hand away. Of course she wasn't quite so rude, but she made sure Eula had to mean her tug to successfully pull Lisa up to her feet.
"It’s a pity Jean couldn't be here today," commented Lisa, "else you'd actually have a challenge."
"You weren't an easy opponent," Eula granted. "I'd like to duel you again someday."
"Name your prize," said Lisa, sounding quite a bit bolder than she felt, but the slight twitch of her hand betrayed her nervousness. She could only hope Eula did not notice. What could Eula possibly have in store for her?
Lisa was cautious when Eula's other hand came up to wrap around Lisa’s, clasping the Ravenclaw's one hand in both of her own. She pulled Lisa in a little closer and hissed quietly in Lisa's ear, "Never forget the day you were bested by Eula Lawrence."
Lisa was almost insulted by the miserable request. "That's it?"
The shit-eating grin Eula wore in response to Lisa's incredulous look was infuriating.
"Why?" challenged Eula. "Did you come up with something much more dastardly for me to ask of you?"
Lisa scoffed, "Hardly."
"Will you tell me what you had in mind, then? Had you won, that is."
"It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have to beat you in a duel for you to take Jean to the Ball."
Eula thought that might have stung more than Lisa's Stinging Hex.
"So," drawled Kaeya, materialising abruptly on Eula's left as both Gryffindors and Slytherins alike hurried back to the castle, all eager to get away from the cold (and, more importantly, the Blast-Ended Skrewts), "I heard Roger succeeded in asking the Beauxbaton champion to the Ball."
"Kaeya," Eula greeted stiffly. She did not like where this was going. In fact, she much preferred to avoid any discussion about the Yule Ball.
"Which means," emphasised Kaeya, as if speaking to a particularly stubborn child, "you should ask Jean to the Ball."
Eula rolled her eyes and wordlessly quickened her step. She would have made her escape had Rosaria not flanked her from the right. Though Eula fixed her eyes on the castle before her, she felt Kaeya and Rosaria’s stares keenly.
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Eula eventually grumbled, giving in.
Kaeya hummed and laced his fingers behind his head, "Just a shot in the dark but maybe it has something to do with the bloody obvious torch you’ve been carrying since Third Year-"
Eula ducked her head and tightened her grip on her bag strap. "It's not that obvious."
"No, he's right," Rosaria interjected flatly. “We’re starting to think that Jean might be blind, given that she’s the only person who hasn’t noticed it.”
To that, Eula made a rude gesture.
"Come on, Eula," coaxed Kaeya. Eula resented the way his elbow dug into her side. "It's not that hard to ask a girl out."
"And how many girls have you asked out?"
"None," shrugged Kaeya. Eula sent a pointed look his way.
Kaeya made a show of stroking his chin, pretending to think hard. He then called across Eula's shoulders, "Hey, Rosaria - you, me, Ball?"
"Sure."
Eula groaned into her gloved palms, "I hate the both of you."
Kaeya beamed broadly, "And we love you, too."
"You think it's all fun and games but I've had enough of it," Eula exploded. She had half a mind to stomp her foot but that was unbecoming behaviour now that she was no longer a child. The heat in her tone, however, was enough to melt Kaeya's smile right off his face.
"What really bothers me is that everyone is telling me to ask her. Why must I be the one to do the asking? Couldn't she ask me instead?"
In a much quieter tone, Eula said, "I don't want to be the only idiot in– in whatever this is."
Pressing her lips into a thin line, Eula stalked off before Kaeya or Rosaria could get a good look at her face. Eula kept her head bowed the entire way, cursing that damn December wind stinging her eyes.
"She is right about one thing, at least," Kaeya mused. "She isn't the only idiot; Jean is being a right prat, too."
Rosaria nodded, "Yes, they're both idiots."
The days leading up to the Yule Ball passed with little commotion after Eula’s emotional outburst. The topic of the Ball was dropped for the most part among her circle of friends– ahem, peers. Of course Amber (bless her soul) would continue to needle Eula about it, but Eula wasn’t one to give in quite so easily.
The reward for Eula's stubbornness was a simple roast dinner on Christmas Eve instead of the feast she was sure was being enjoyed at the Yule Ball. After tipping her pigs in a blanket onto Amber's plate (goodness knew how much Amber loved them) and deciding against pudding, Eula rose from her spot at the table to go for a walk. It was hard to maintain an appetite when Jean was sat across the way, watching her with a concerned gaze.
The sparkle of fairy lights glinting against ice statues was visible even from across the lake. If Eula strained her ears, she could hear some familiar-yet-not tune warbling faintly in the air. With her knees tucked beneath her chin and the icy ground seeping through the layers of her clothes, Eula was content with listening to the occasional tentacle breaking the surface of the water.
"It's still not too late to go, if you want to."
Eula did not need to look to know it was Jean.
"I was never good with parties and things, anyway," Eula shrugged. "That's how it always was in Mondstadt, and I suppose that’s how it will always be. I'm plenty good at watching from afar, though; I don’t need to join in."
"You're going to catch a cold if you keep sitting here," warned Jean, though she took a spot next to Eula nonetheless.
"I've had worse winters," was Eula's simple reply.
From the corner of her eye, Eula could see Jean fiddling with her obnoxiously bright yellow-and-black scarf.
"You have something you want to say," Eula guessed.
"Sort of. It's an unfair question, and one that I don't know if I'm brave enough to hear the answer to. Perhaps it would be better if—"
"Just spit it out." Patience was never Eula's strong suit.
There was a sharp inhale from where Jean was seated and a bout of silence. Eula counted a good fifteen seconds before a slow exhale followed.
"Is going to the Yule Ball with me so deplorable that you would rather sit here in the snow?" blurted Jean.
"No," Eula responded bluntly. "I think I would like that a fair bit."
"So why are we here and not over there?"
"Beats me."
It was a curt response, but it carried the weight of great many things. With no better way to realise their thoughts, Eula and Jean let the silence grow between them.
They must have looked like downright fools, sitting quietly in the midwinter snow. Or, at least, they were sitting quietly until Jean's teeth started to clack from repressed shivers.
Shaking her head, Eula commented, "You're lousy with the cold. You wouldn't last a night in Dragonspine."
With not a small amount of exasperation, Jean sighed, "I am only human, Eula."
Eula rolled her eyes at the way Jean hugged herself tighter in a bid to stay warm. "But are you a witch or not?"
With that, Eula made quick work of a Hot Air Charm, drying both Jean and herself off of melted snow. In close succession, Eula casted an Impervius Charm on their clothes, followed by a Warming Charm. When Jean's teeth finally stopped clattering, Jean added her own Warming Charm into the mix.
"Too much studying and not enough spell work is making you lose your edge," said Eula. "I won't forgive you if you're not at top form the next time we duel."
Jean simply chuckled. "Of course. I would not have expected anything different."
And yet another pause settled between them.
"You know," Jean eventually began, not quite looking at Eula, "it’s getting warmer but I'm still cold."
"Mmhmm," Eula humoured, an eyebrow raised. Jean usually wasn't one to complain.
"I'm serious," Jean insisted, pulling her hands out of her cloak pocket and offering them to Eula. "Here. Feel."
"That's because you're not wearing gloves while out in the middle of winter," deadpanned Eula.
Jean puffed her cheeks. With the way she angled her head and continued to hold her hands out towards Eula, the message was clear.
So Eula relented, for she wasn’t completely heartless — but she did make sure to take her time pulling her gloves off, stretching the simple action as far as it could go. Jean made a small strangled noise that Eula thought might have been a whine that got cut off. Having had her fun, Eula finally reached over and took Jean's hands firmly in her own.
Jean yelped. "Goodness, Eula, your hands are freezing!"
Eula had a good laugh. If only all of Mondstadt could see their champion flustered. Now that she managed her mischief, Eula made to take her hands back — but Jean only held on tighter. And when Jean stood up, Eula was forced to follow suit.
Jean wordlessly moved Eula's left hand onto her right shoulder before slipping her own right hand to Eula's back. They took their first steps to barely audible music filtering across the Black Lake. It didn't take long before Eula realised she was participating in the clumsiest rendition of the Dance of Sacrifice that she had ever seen; it was enough to make her tip her head back in laughter.
"You are such a dork," declared Eula, wrinkling her nose and letting go of Jean's upper arm, "and a terrible lead. Here, let me."
And so they danced, and dipped, and twirled until a distant chime reminded them that they were students with only 15 minutes left till curfew. By then, both girls were breathless with laughter, and Eula was glad that the darkness hid the warmth that had settled across her face.
"That was good fun," said Jean, winded and wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Much better than any Ball."
"I don't know," said Eula. "Roger might be a good dancer."
"I don't think I agree," replied Jean, pulling a pair of gloves from her pocket. Her actions did not go unnoticed.
"So you had gloves with you all along," Eula commented.
"Umm, yes–" began Jean, clearly trying to come up with an excuse on the spot. She was saved the trouble when Eula took Jean's remaining ungloved hand in hers. It was unusually forward of her.
"I was stubborn," mustered Eula. Jean knew it was the closest Eula could come to saying that she was sorry. "I should have done... more. And I should have been more honest."
"I'm sorry, too," admitted Jean. "You were under no obligation, and I– I could have been the one to ask you as well."
"So why didn't you?"
"I was... I was afraid."
"Yeah?" asked Eula. "Well, me too. But, between us, I'm the Gryffindor, so..."
"I know I'm being reckless, and I know you deserve much, much more, but," she paused to give Jean's hand a squeeze, watching closely as Jean's eyes flit towards their entwined hands, "please let me be the one who gets to hold your hand for as long as I can."
Eula’s breath caught on the last word, all of her focus stolen by the scratchiness of Jean's gloved hand against her cheek. Between the excessive way her heart pounded heavily in her chest and the powdery specks of snow caught on Jean's long eyelashes — it was all too much. And the closer Jean leaned in, the further from Eula's mind the curfew became.
Eula met her halfway.
"I can't believe we went through all that trouble," huffed Lisa, wrestling her luggage onto the Hogwarts Express, "and the both of you still didn't go to the Ball together."
Jean rolled her eyes, but a good-natured smile betrayed her true feelings. She reached over to help Lisa — seriously, did Lisa need to take so much with her with her for Christmas break? — but Lisa swatted her hand away.
"I'm upset with you," Lisa said, leaving no room for doubt. "Asking someone to the Ball should not be this hard."
Shaking her head, Jean said, "I wouldn't say it was all for nothing."
Lisa noticed that Jean was looking out the window as she spoke. Following Jean's line of sight, it didn't take long for Lisa to find a familiar haughty-yet-awkward figure amongst the bustle of students at the train station.
"Eula?" asked Lisa, mildly surprised. "I thought she preferred to spend as little time in Mondstadt as possible?"
"She isn't here to board the train," said Jean. Lisa was sure Jean was unaware of the fond smile growing on her face. "If you're sure you don't need help with your luggage, I think I'll go say goodbye."
Jean did not hesitate when Lisa shooed her away. From her place by the train window, Lisa saw the way Eula reached for Jean's hand the moment Jean came into vicinity, and– oh my! How bold of Jean to steal a quick peck on the cheek like that. Even from this distance, the rosiness that found its way to Eula's face was evident. But flustered as Eula might be, Lisa noticed that she did not once let go of Jean's hand.
Lisa turned away from the window, satisfied that all was well.