Chapter Text
23rd November 1892
You would think with our approaching exams that extracurriculars would be the last thing on everyone’s minds—but no, everyone from Aunt Matilda to bloody Peeves is in uproar about a Yule Ball. And I found out from Cressida, of all people, who slipped me a note in Charms asking if I wanted to be her date. Cressida Blume . I still haven’t forgiven her for fifth year and those diary entries she still has no idea I read. So, I did what any gentleman would do—feigned ignorance and scarpered.
Then I went to Aunt Matilda and asked why she didn’t tell me, because frankly I didn’t appreciate being blindsided by Cressida Bloody Blume (have I mentioned how ridiculous the thought of attending with her is?) and she told me that it was meant to be all hush hush, but our beloved headmaster let it slip to a few of his favourites.
Quite how Cressida found out, I’m not sure. But what is clear is that there’s to be a ball held on the 23rd of December, exactly one month from now.
I suppose it’s about time to work the old Weasley charm to secure a date.
24th November
Well now the whole school knows about this ball, which means that the girls can't stop giggling and the boys are all at each other's throats over who they plan to ask. Even Adanna has taken to girlish whisperings with Natty, as if there aren't myriad better things to talk about. Leander is already close to having a nervous breakdown and the news has only been in circulation for one day. I'm quite sick to death of the idea already.
Did I mention that this is all a terrible distraction from our exams? Auntie is threatening to put me in remedial Transfiguration (absolutely mortifying) if I don't pull up my socks. She's probably right, but I'm so close to perfecting this tonic I can practically taste it*. She also wasn't happy that I've landed myself another detention from Sharp. Personally I think he's being a little dramatic and stifling my creativity.
* In fact, I did taste it yesterday since I couldn't find any willing first years for human trials. Ghastly. Though it tastes better than it smells—somewhat reminiscent of Leander's smelly socks with a hint of mildew. I suspect it's the horklumps.
25th November
Detention went well. Managed to sneak a handful of doxy eggs from Sharp’s store room under the guise of fetching an empty bucket. Hands were a little raw from all the scrubbing, but silver linings and all that. Ada made a salve from murtlap essence that sorted them out—I could have gone to Blainey but no doubt I'd get an earful from her, too, whereas Ada just rolls her eyes and lets me get on with it. She really is a star (Ada, not Nurse Blainey).
26th November
The Yule Ball saga. It gets worse.
No, I don't have a date, nor have I found time to contemplate finding one. This blasted tonic has backfired on me (quite literally) and so it appears I'm back to square one. Transfiguration homework lays bare (it's due tomorrow) and now I hear—via Cressida again, no less (seriously, what is happening? Has someone given her a love potion or is this a strange ploy to gain my confidence before carrying out some devious plot, leading to my downfall?)—where was I?
The bloody Yule Ball.
Not only do we require dates and dress robes and corsages and other such frippery, but someone has had the idiotic idea of enforcing compulsory dance lessons. Apparently there are to be various guests of honour joining the revelry, including a rather famous Quidditch player. Personally I hope it's someone from the Cannons, rounding off their League Cup victory tour. Pansy Winters has shone this season (and is easy on the eye). I wonder if she would need an escort?
So, not only do I need to find a partner, but have less than a month to learn how to dance, beyond a lively jig. Leander will be alright—he says he's a dab hand at the waltz, and is close to convincing Anne Sallow to go with him. I told him he's more likely to win round the other twin, then he punched me on the arm and Auntie took ten points from Gryffindor (her own house, honestly!)
27th November
Why did I take History of Magic at N.E.W.T? Was I mad? Oh yes, because Adanna insisted and now I must suffer Binns’ drawling twice a week.
30th November
Preparations for the fated Yule Ball have started in earnest. I’d almost forgotten, what with being wrapped up with detention and mountains of homework, until Ada asked where I wanted to practice. I hadn’t the foggiest, short of prancing around the common room, which I’d rather not subject my fellow housemates to. Not that I mind being a public spectacle, truly, but the amount of furniture and bodily obstacles doesn’t lend itself to a dance space. Now that winter’s chill has set in I don’t much fancy taking to the courtyards, but perhaps it might have to do—a few warming charms will set us right.
Still, can’t let myself get distracted by it all when there’s potions to perfect.
2nd December
Thank you, Auntie, for telling your brother about the ball, and the detentions. News has filtered through to the Weasley matriarch and I received a lovely letter with the morning post owls which read quite like the ravings of a mad woman. She started off with a stern telling off, along with threats to have me banned from visiting Hogsmeade, then proceeded to segue into a full ten inches of her own Yule Ball experiences from her youth. According to her, it was when she fell in love with dad, which is enough to make anyone sick. Mr Moon was there, drunk on smuggled ale, and she received a fair few propositions to dance, including from a ‘handsome ghost’, until dad scooped her up. ‘The most magical night of her life’, supposedly. I can’t see what all the fuss is about.
Leander read all this over my shoulder, of course, and proceeded to imply that I might meet a similar fate. I thought he might shut up once I reminded him that Ada was currently my dance partner but it only made him more vocal, so I had to jinx him with a swift Langlock.
He’s not forgiven me.
Mum also asked what I’ll be wearing, like I’m one of her housewitch friends who all fawn over Witch Weekly and the sight of a slightly pointier hat in today’s fad style. I suppose I’ll take my dwindling funds down to Gladrags and see what I can afford at the weekend. The poster on the noticeboard says it’s black tie, which is another way of saying expensive.
3rd December
First dance practice tonight, and Adanna has decided on the Astronomy Tower platform as the location. I told her we might as well go outside into the grounds if we’re to be in the open air, but she said the ground would be too lumpy. I suppose she would know better, being the dancer—I just hope we don’t run into any couples fondling by the telescopes.
Which reminds me, I still need to find a date.
- Nellie
- Adelaide
- Andrew - I’m not sure he swings that way…
- Constance
- Imelda
Ominis ??Evangeline- Sacharissa - Long shot. I suppose we could talk about potions, but she’s rather stuck up.
AnneLeander would kill me.- Cressida - Absolute last resort, but at least she seems keen. Can’t be worse than going alone.
- Ada might go with me as friends, though I expect she’ll be beating suitors off with a bat before long.
Addendum:
It was worse that I expected. I ran into Cressida outside the common room on the way to meet Ada. She’s still hinting that she doesn’t have a date yet and I’m running out of excuses. I’m starting to think she must have a hidden agenda with how persistent she is. Maybe she looks back at that awkward fumble in fourth year with fondness, but I can’t say the same—never will I look at the One-Eyed Witch statue in quite the same way.
Anyway, I managed to brush her off and ran to the Astronomy Tower, but Ada wasn’t alone. Seems sneaking out of the common room had caught the attention of Adelaide, who decided to invite herself along to spectate. Not that I had any particular inclination to be alone with Ada, but seeing as it was my first ‘lesson’, I had the sneaking suspicion that Adelaide might have tagged along just to watch me fall arse-over-tit. At least she doesn’t seem the gossipping type. It should have been a ripe opportunity to throw my hat into the ring, to see if she had any offer of a date, but the shock of her presence knocked me off kilter. I knew I wasn’t the best dancer, but I must have tripped over Ada’s feet half a dozen times and at some points it felt as if she were leading me and not the other way around—and those floorboards are not level, despite her protestations. I’m sure Adelaide must have been holding in her laughter, though she was very polite and encouraging.
Still, Ada thinks I could be worse (high praise, indeed). If I can shake the oddness of being so close to her, I might be able to concentrate on my footwork. I suppose it’s a little like having to dance with Leander—we’re such close friends that holding her by the waist feels…strange.
Addendum 2:
Now that I think about it, I’m not all that keen on Adelaide. Something about seeing her next to Ada seemed to dull her appeal. The list is dwindling already.
5th December
Leander came back to the dormitory sporting some lovely boils courtesy of Sallow. I suppose he didn’t have much luck asking Anne to the ball after all.
Charms due 11th - ten inches on non-verbal incantations
7th December
What an ordeal. Usually a visit to Hogsmeade is one of the highlights of my week. Don't get me wrong, I stocked up on treacle tarts and fudge from Honeydukes, but the visit to Gladrags afterwards was enough to put a dampener on any sugar-induced revelry. Ada came with me hoping to find herself a ball-appropriate dress. She had much better luck than me—or rather, she had deeper pockets. Who would have thought a set of plain black dress robes would be so expensive ? I could keep my trunk stocked with the finest potion ingredients for months for the price of Hill’s most basic suit. Even if I did have that amount of gold (and I most certainly do not), I'm not sure I want to spend so much on clothes that will be worn a handful of times. It's a matter of principle.
Leander thinks I'm barking—his own dress robes are pristine and newly bought using the family coffers, so he has no right to an opinion—and Ada thinks I should accept a few galleons from her to cover the cost. I refused, naturally, but I suppose I'll need something for the ball. Wearing school robes is doubtless frowned upon.
So, how to raise enough money in less than three weeks? I can usually count on a steady stream of income selling invigoration draughts, especially as students will be stockpiling before exam season starts. My new tonic would blow this old recipe out of the water, but I still can’t quite get the balance right.
Just in case, I'll write to mum and see if I can borrow any of dad's robes.
Invigoration draught - 20 draughts, 2 galleons ea., 5 batches, 15 hours brew time
Alihotsy leaves - greenhouse
Dried billywig stings - a midnight trip to Honeydukes might be in order
Peppermint - greenhouse
Stewed Mandrake - Sharp’s stores??
Infusion of Wormwood - trunk
Honeywater - trunk
Vervain infusion - trunk
Scurvy grass - greenhouse
Lovage - greenhouse
8th December
Mum wrote back already. Dad has commandeered his only good pair of dress robes for a Ministry function, which Oscar is also attending. Somehow I think that this is rather convenient timing and she just doesn't trust me not to ruin them—as if I'll be brewing in the middle of the great hall as dancers twirl around me. As appealing as that image sounds, it puts me in rather a tricky situation. After scoping out Sharp’s storeroom during double Potions today (courtesy of Natty, of course, I’m still banned for the foreseeable from setting foot in there), there appears to be no stewed mandrake in sight. I can only assume that the current stock of mandrakes aren't mature enough for stewing.
9th December
Delightfully reminded that today marks two weeks until the Yule Ball. It's all anyone can talk about, including me, apparently. Leander asked Adelaide during Herbology to accompany him to the ball, after seeking my approval. I told him I didn't mind and that he could have at it. Truthfully I thought she would shoot him down, especially as he had a big smear of dirt across his forehead which looked suspiciously like something else when he asked, but she seemed elated. I can't help but feel a little jealous that he's managed to snag someone before me. I appear to be quite behind, judging by the newly coupled students grasping hands in the corridors and whispering in the common room. It's as if this ball has finally given everyone the kick up the arse they needed to profess their feelings to the objects of their desires…
If only I could bottle such a thing.
Though on second thought, I might do better with some sort of repellent to keep Cressida at bay. She keeps making moon eyes at me and I’ve caught her looking over my shoulder at this very journal. I think if she saw its contents she’d second guess wanting me to ask her to the ball.
Addendum:
I’ve just returned from another dance practice with Ada. I suggested we practice indoors tonight, unless we wanted an audience from the Astronomy club, and Ada dragged me off to the clock tower. I have to hand it to her, she has a knack for finding peace amongst the hustle and bustle of the castle. It's been hailing for hours and so most people had retreated back to their common rooms to huddle around fires, and whilst the tower isn't exactly comfortable there was something oddly cosy about the space tonight; being enclosed by those thick walls whilst the rain lashes stone just beyond. She conjured one of those bluebell flames for warmth, though once we started moving it wasn't needed, and then we were dancing by only moonlight. She might be small, but Ada has very warm hands. I could have sworn she seemed distracted tonight, but who can blame her? She must find it dull teaching me how to not trip over my own feet, but thankfully I am improving. Whoever I end up taking to the ball, if anyone, should be pleasantly surprised.
Ada said she isn't going with anyone (yet, presumably), and so out of curiosity I then asked who she wants to go with, but she just shrugged and wouldn't meet my eye. It was the strangest thing. I'd ruminate on it more but I can hear a furious pounding on the bathroom door. Honestly, can't a man have some privacy?
Try root of asphodel - Pippin wants five sickles a pound! I'll have to see if I can procure it elsewhere
10th December
I am officially in remedial Transfiguration, which would be more embarrassing if this damned ball wasn’t driving the rest of the seventh years to distraction along with me. I’ve never seen so many points taken for inattentiveness and failing to hand in homework in such a short time—I imagine Aunt Matilda is regretting allowing it to go ahead at all. I said as much, but the look she gave me ended the conversation before I could press the matter. I can practically feel the stress radiating from her these days, whilst Headmaster Black appears to swan around the castle without a care in the world.
So what does remedial Transfiguration involve…? As far as I can tell, even more work in order to catch up, and private tutoring sessions with Aunt Matilda herself.
Fantastic.
Also, I asked Andrew if he'd like to accompany me to the ball, but he said no. Or rather, just sort of mumbled and ran off. He seemed rather terrified at the prospect.
Oddly enough, I'm relieved.
Transfiguration tutoring Wednesday 5 o’clock
11th December
What an odd sort of day.
It’s now midnight, and my quill scratching has already woken Leander up (he tried to throw a cushion at my bed, missed and hit Eric’s owl who started screeching, then blamed me for the whole thing). Grouchy git. I’ve thrown up a silencing charm as I imagine I’ll be awake for a while yet.
Me and Ada returned to our spot in the clocktower for practice today, straight after Herbology so were both a little worn out and covered in compost from repotting tentacula. Perhaps that was why we seemed to stumble more today, or it might have been the gathering crowd that seemed intent on watching us (as if there aren't better things to do). I didn't mind, but Ada seemed to shy away. She could barely look at me, holding onto my arm so tight I'm sure I’ll have a bruise. I suppose I wasn't very successful at dispelling her discomfort with my jokes, because she tripped over me near the end of our waltz. I could have smacked the snivelling little fifth years laughing their heads off at her expense, if I hadn't been pinned underneath her. I don't think the wolf whistles helped the situation, either, nor my childish innuendo—not my finest moment, but I was quite flustered (I'm a man, after all, and whether or not Ada is my friend , she's still a woman, and a very attractive one at that, in a purely platonic sense I mean)
Scratch that last, it's not worth thinking about. Suffice to say, being pressed up against a good friend on the floor of the clocktower made for an incredibly awkward evening, and Ada retired to bed at eight o’clock leaving Natty and Leander baffled. I didn't say a word about it.
Oh, and Nellie and Imelda are going to the ball together. I thought it odd at first, but actually they seem to be a good match. That doesn’t solve my problem of course. Though my options are few and far between, I can’t say I’m all that worried. Given how much fun I’ve had learning to dance with Ada, would it be so bad to go it alone? Surely there will be plenty of others without partners…
Send an owl to Uncle Rupert to see if he has any spare robes
13th December
I asked Ada if she’d like to go to the ball as friends if we couldn’t find anyone in time. She said yes! The relief that hit me was like a great swirl of lacewing flies in my gut. I’m sure we’ll have the best time, not having to worry about frivolous things like social etiquette, wondering whether our dates are well tended to, and performing all evening. Being with Ada is so easy—I can be myself.
Is it terrible of me to hope that she doesn’t find anyone else?
15th December
Today has been one catastrophe after another. I managed to get an owl to Uncle Rupert yesterday and his reply came with the morning post owls, dropping a terse rejection onto my plate of sausages. He's never been particularly warmhearted but not even a ‘lovely to hear from you, Garreth!’ only a ‘no, I don't have any suitable robes for you, pull your socks up and find some money’. I'm sure in his day it was easy enough to earn a few sickles but this is the 1890s! Dress robes are an expensive commodity, and I can hardly pay for a set using pocket change.
With the morning's disappointment, I didn't think my luck could get much worse, but double Potions always brings new and interesting ways to stifle my plans. I’ve landed myself detention again, though this time I didn't technically do anything wrong. I only asked if Amit (since Ada and Natty refused) would mind seeing if Sharp had any asphodel in his store room and he ratted me out! It doesn't seem fair—for all Sharp knows I could have just been showing a purely academic sort of interest. Yes, I did have the intention of pilfering some but he doesn't know that. What ever happened to innocent until proven guilty?
And so after a long day, I was hoping to relax in the dormitory and get some of this extra Transfiguration work out of the way, but Leander was busy prancing around in his new dress robes and being thoroughly distracting. He's so smug—more than usual—and I have to hand it to him, they're very smart. I can't imagine how much Mr Prewett had to fork out for those. Leander says they're lined with silk and have built-in cooling charms. I mentioned that he wouldn't need built-in cooling charms if he wasn't so sweaty and now he's not talking to me—a good thing too, since I can't bear to hear any more about his damned robes.
I'll be writing to mum again tonight. There must be one relative that will lend me an outfit. What's the point in having such a large family if I can't call in a favour every now and then?
16th December
Ada said I probably don't need anymore dance lessons. I can't help but think that awkward moment in the clocktower has made things a little tense between us. Perhaps I'm imagining it, but I can't seem to stop thinking about it, either.
18th December
Three days until the ball and mum has pulled through! Received a package this morning with what can only be the much-awaited dress robes.
These robes might be the most hideous things I've ever laid eyes on. The only relative who had anything even remotely suitable for a ball was Cousin Tessie . They’re at least a century out of date, so Merlin knows which Weasley they originally came from. I’ve tried to get rid of the lace (yes, there’s lace all over it, and ruffles) but even a severing charm seems to be useless, as if it’s been warded against tampering. Who could possibly want to preserve this monstrosity? I haven’t dared to show anyone but Ada. I thought she’d laugh, but she just smiled and told me the colour suited me—that it was warm and brought out my freckles. I think I replied something about it at least being able to hide stains, but my head was all jumbled after her comment.
Things are strange between us, and I can’t help but wonder…
20th December
Natty says Ada is holding out for someone but won't say who. The thought makes me nauseous. To make matters worse they were holed up in Natty's dormitory most of the evening, only to emerge in a cloud of perfume. I'm sure the common room fell silent when Ada walked in, or at least it seemed that way. She'd styled her hair—practice for the ball, I assume—her curls loose with a crown of flowers on her head. Asphodel. I wouldn't miss those little white flowers anywhere after hunting for the root these past weeks. And she found it for me! She gave me a little paper bag with the root and all I managed in thanks was to gawp at her like a fish. Whatever happened to the patented Weasley charm? It deserted me when I needed it most, until Ada bid me goodnight.
I regret not thanking her properly, and not asking her to the ball. As it happens, I'm not sure I want to go with anyone else, nor do I wish to go alone.