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Bilbo typically liked Christmas these past few years. Ever since his parents had passed away, he had found it hard to enjoy the holiday, but things had changed. For one, he had friends, genuine friends, and from different houses. He loved the magic that was brought back into the holiday since he had started school. Most importantly, he loved the fact that he could stay at said school, celebrate the holiday with people who cared about him instead of relatives that only took him in because of his inheritance that they had been trying to drain dry ever since. And really, if one had to spend the holiday break at any school, Hogwarts, in Bilbo’s opinion, was the best.
This year, however, he dreaded the holidays. The Triwizard Tournament was mostly to blame for his thoughts on the matter, though. Mostly because of the Yule Ball.
That, coupled with the fact that Bofur kept trying to get him to go, put a little damper on his holiday spirit.
“Why not?” Said friend asked him, even as Bilbo tried to ignore him with his Muggle Studies book.
“Because,” Bilbo breathed out, looking up from it to stare at his friend, his fellow Hufflepuff. “Why on earth would I want to go to a silly dance by myself?”
“You won’t have to!” Bofur countered, bouncing a little in his seat. “There’s bound to be loads of people that want to go with you!”
“Oh yes, because Smaug from Slytherin is a fantastic choice.” Bilbo argued. “Not the best choice of argument, Bofur.”
Even Bofur cringed, for they both knew Smaug and how dreadful he was. Sure, he was smart, one of the smartest students in the entire school. But he was a snob of the worst kind, and a bully besides. He blamed Saruman for ever making Smaug think that Bilbo would make delightful arm candy. Even though Bilbo gave him a black eye for harassing Bard from Gryffindor.
“Well… I’m sure he’s not the only person here who wants to ask you. More than once. And trying to bribe you with gifts. Thanks for the chocolates, by the way.” Bofur replied, and Bilbo hummed. “And push comes to shove, we could always go together.”
Bilbo huffed, though it wasn’t a cruel sound. “Don’t sacrifice yourself, Bo.” He told him. “We both know who you really want to ask. Besides, if it’s any consolation, I think Ori would say yes in a heartbeat.”
Bofur flushed a little, fidgeting with his hat and Bilbo patted his friend’s shoulder. His friend had a crush on Ori for the longest time, though at first it was annoyance, since the Ravenclaw was so intelligent, it was almost snobbish. But Bilbo had befriended him, and he found that Ori was a good friend, indeed. If only because they shared a common interest in books and were both almost painfully shy.
“What about one of the guys from Durmstrang?” Bofur finally piped up. “Or even Beauxbatons?”
Bilbo ducked his head further into his book, trying to will away his blush. It was no secret that Bilbo thought at least some of the boys from Durmstrang were attractive, and one had to be a fool to not appreciate the grace that every person from Beauxbatons seemed to have. But Bilbo never tried to imagine being asked to the Ball, let alone be spoken to, by anyone from either school. Durmstrang was Bilbo’s personal favorite. Everyone from that school, though large and somewhat intimidating, were the most fascinating. Two boys in particular had caught Bilbo’s eye on more than one occasion.
There was Thorin, one of the Champions, and also the most elegant. With long, black hair and the beginnings of a beard, he had a rugged appeal. It also helped that he was in the lead. Everyone, boy or girl, swooned at the sight of him. Then there was Dwalin.
Dwalin, the gruffest-looking of them all. He had a stoic, gruff appearance that was most intriguing. He was, apparently, good friends with Thorin, but he was also a star Quidditch player. A Beater. Bofur had shown him some pictures, and even Bilbo was impressed by how skilled he was.
Both Durmstrang boys piqued Bilbo’s interest, but he knew for a fact that neither would ask him, and he was far too afraid to try himself.
“No way.” He finally answered. “I would never ask them, and they certainly wouldn’t ask me.”
“I wouldn’t say that, Bilbo!” Bofur argued. “Besides, they might be trying to get you alone, and you’re always around someone.”
“Is that you’re nice way of saying that you don’t want to hang out with me, anymore?” He asked. “It’s not very nice. Not nice at all.”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Bilbo, and you know it!” His friend countered, and Bilbo waved him off.
“I think I know what you’re getting at, Bofur.” He said, cutting any of Bofur’s botched apologies off. “Tell you what: Tomorrow, you go ask Ori, and I’ll do some things around the castle by myself. If anyone besides Smaug tries to ask me, I’ll help with your homework for a month. If not, you get to eat my Aunt Lobelia’s fruit cake. All of it.”
Bofur went a little green, recalling the sight of the horrid mass that Bilbo’s aunt called “cake”, and how even the ghosts looked like they would get sick after just touching it.
“Either make the homework two months, or make the fruit cake half.” He countered.
“Half the fruit cake, then. Deal?”
“Deal. Prepared to be swamped with invitations, Bilbo Baggins of Hufflepuff House!”
xxx
“He’s with Dori.”
Bilbo rolled his eyes, pulling his scarf up closer to his face as they watched Ori’s older brother fuss over him as they stood in the courtyard. It was no known secret that the Prefect was like a mother hen with both of his brothers, even though they were in separate houses. He was also very protective of them, Ori especially. Anyone who dared try to speak to Ori about anything, save for Bilbo, was promptly scared off by him.
“So?” He finally asked. “Just politely ask to speak to Ori alone!”
“He’d never fall for that.” Bofur argued, and Bilbo had to grab his cloak to prevent him from slipping away. “The minute I try to get close, he’ll kill me! He’s become rather fierce since the Yule Ball was announced!”
“But he trusts you, Bofur!” Bilbo cut in. “You’re friends with his brother Nori, Ori himself, and you’re my friend. And he likes me!”
“Nori immediately cancels everything out.”
“Just get over there!”
“No!” Bofur hissed, and Bilbo sighed in exasperation as his friend tried to run. “Forget it! Forget the bet, Bilbo! I’m not going to risk my life just so you can do my homework, or I’m forced to scarf down your aunt’s brick of a cake!”
Frustrated, Bilbo eventually managed to get a good hold of his friend before promptly dragging him along to meet up with Dori and Ori.
“Ah, Bilbo!” Dori greeted with a smile, turning away from fussing over Ori’s scarf. “Good morning!”
“Good morning, Dori. Ori.” Bilbo greeted, and with a final yank, pulled Bofur around to face them. “Well, Bofur?”
“Mornin’.” Bofur finally mumbled, and Bilbo grinned when he saw Ori’s smile, and that Dori’s didn’t waver.
“Dori, Bofur here was wondering if he could have a word with Ori.” Bilbo continued, ignoring the way Bofur was trying to secretly hit him.
“Oh, well I don’t see why not.” Dori said, turning to his blushing younger brother. “But don’t take too long! Ori has to study.”
“Dori!” Ori hissed. “It’s holiday! I’m done with all my homework, and I’m sure I can recite the entirety of my Potions book!”
“History of Magic, then.” Dori countered. “Bilbo, I guess we go over here, then.”
Bilbo nodded, patting Bofur’s shoulder before walking with Dori to the other side of the courtyard.
“He’s going to ask Ori to the Ball, isn’t he?” Dori finally asked, looking back to see Bofur and Ori chatting.
“Well… maybe. Bofur’s a bit scared to.” Bilbo finally conceded. “Do you mind?”
Dori scoffed. “Bofur? No!” He answered. “I trust him to not do anything rash, and anything’s better than that one Durmstrang boy.”
“Durmstrang boy?” Bilbo parroted. “Who?”
“Kaley, or whatever his name is.” Dori muttered. “Came along because he was related to the Champion. He’s far too young to be trying to ask Ori out on anything. Why Thorin doesn’t have that boy on a tighter leash is beyond me!”
Bilbo scoffed, and they both jumped and turned when they head a squeal, seeing Ori suddenly talk excitedly with a blushing, grinning Bofur.
“Well, good.” Dori said. “Ori had been moping about the Ball for days. Hopefully Bofur won’t distract him too much.”
“I’m sure he won’t.” Bilbo assured.
“Well, pardon, but I need to make sure Ori gets to the library, and then I have to go to the greenhouses.” Dori stated. “Perhaps we might meet up later for tea?”
“Absolutely!”
With some final farewells, Dori walked over to where Ori and Bofur were, promptly ushering Bofur away, who waved Bilbo off before practically running back inside.
And Bilbo was left all alone.
He fidgeted, because, while he has been by himself at school before, he’s never had to do so with the fear of a certain Slytherin charging around the corner.
After some debate, he decides to head to the library himself. It’s a big place, and he could easily hide in a corner and read something. Smaug tends to think that the library was “beneath him”, anyway.
Just as he was about to start moving, he saw two people step into the courtyard. Those two people were from Durmstrang.
They were Thorin and Dwalin.
He flushed, half-wondering why they were there, and half-realizing that it was none of his business. A little taken aback by seeing them, he decided to turn and head for the library before they noticed that he had been staring and going redder than a Quaffle.
“Hufflepuff!” Too late.
Bilbo swallowed, turning at the sound of Thorin’s booming voice and saw how Dwalin seemed to fidget with his collar a moment. The larger of the two grunted when the Champion elbowed him, and then they made their approach.
He fought every urge to bolt, for while they were striking, they were intimidating, Thorin most of all. While Dwalin’s face was a picture of controlled calm, Thorin looked rather irritated. He almost thought that they would try to harass, maybe even pummel him, but at least Dori was still nearby, pausing both Ori and himself in their trek at the booming voice themselves. Bilbo was sure Dori would step in if things got out of hand.
They stopped a bit short of towering over him (though it was a difficult feat), and they did a peculiar, yet familiar, stomping move before bowing deeply. Bilbo relaxed minutely, for that was a good sign, wasn’t it? Unless they still upheld manners before threatening someone.
Then Bilbo felt his face grow even warmer when, after they straightened, Dwalin took a few extra steps towards him.
“Bilbo Baggins,” Dwalin addressed, and he shivered at the deep burr of his voice and how surprisingly soft it was. He didn’t even fight when he took his hand, and he felt a little thrill when he saw how large it was compared to his own. “I would humbly ask if you would like to attend the Yule Ball with me.”
Bilbo blinked several times, trying to wrap his mind around the question. Did Dwalin, this mighty Durmstrang Quidditch champion, actually ask him, Bilbo Baggins of Hogwarts, to the Yule Ball?
“Seriously?” He asked before he could stop himself, and he flushed even brighter when Dwalin blinked a few times at the question and Thorin rolled his eyes. Said boy then muttered something in a language Bilbo couldn’t even begin to understand, and Dwalin shot back at him with his own words. It seemed to get rather heated, for Dwalin started to scowl and Thorin’s lips were stretching into a sneer.
“I-I mean…” Bilbo cut in before it could get too bad. “I would… If you really wanted to go… with me… then yes.”
Because Bilbo would be a fool to pass such a thing up. Because Dwalin was intriguing, and he had an inkling that the larger man was smarter than he let on (he caught him rifling through some rather advanced books in the library once). Perhaps this was a good thing. A start to a friendship, at least, for it seemed that they might have a few things in common. And if Dwalin truly wanted to take him to the Ball, then…
Thorin swallowed down his snarl, and Bilbo bit the inside of his lip when Dwalin’s lips stretched into a small smile.
“I am glad.” The man greeted, and Bilbo almost squealed when he bent down and kissed his knuckles. “And it would be an honor, Bilbo Baggins.”
Bilbo smiled, genuinely this time, and was glad that Dwalin’s own grew. “For me, as well.” He responded. “And please, just Bilbo… Dwalin.”
Dwalin gave him a nod, and Thorin seemed to hit Dwalin again, and said boy frowned a little. “Forgive my friend. He’s rather… impatient, and I’m afraid we have some things to attend to.” He said, stepping back, but not before giving Bilbo’s hand another kiss. “I hope to see you again, and soon.”
“Same here.” He replied. “Perhaps in the library, when you’re not busy.”
Dwalin grinned before turning to his friend. Thorin nodded sharply and, with only hesitating slightly, Dwalin headed back inside.
The Durmstrang Champion then rounded on him with a rather heated gaze. “Bilbo Baggins,” He spoke, and Bilbo shuddered a little. “If you break my friend’s heart, I will not hesitate to break your face. Is that understood?”
Bilbo gulped, a little blind-sided by the threat. “I… Yes, I understand.”
Thorin nodded sharply then before giving him a once over. “I don’t see why he likes you…” He muttered. “But perhaps it is because you’re smart.”
Bilbo blinked. “To be honest, I was a little surprised when he asked me.” He admitted, and Thorin quirked an eyebrow at him. “Don’t get me wrong! It was a pleasant surprise, to be sure, but-!”
Thorin waved him off then, and Bilbo watched as he looked to the side, and Bilbo followed his line of sight. Dori was there, though it appeared Ori had left some time ago. The Prefect was standing tall, lifting his chin defiantly, as if challenging him. Bilbo looked back at Thorin, and had to blink, because surely Thorin wasn’t blushing, now was he?
“Perhaps…” The Champion muttered before shaking his head. “Do you know him?”
“Who, Dori?” Bilbo asked, and Thorin nodded. “Well, yes, of course. I’m good friends with his brother.”
Thorin cleared his throat, then. “Then perhaps, if you do not mind…” He muttered before fidgeting a little, and Bilbo’s eyebrows rose, for surely a Durmstrang didn’t fidget. “You could put in a good word-.”
Bilbo rolled his eyes, because this was like Bofur all over again. “Come along, Mister Thorin.” He sighed out, ignoring the larger man’s sputterings as he dragged him towards Dori as said Prefect quirked an eyebrow. “Let’s get this over with.”
And sure, it took a lot of prodding, and some awkward words, but Bilbo managed to also help Thorin secure a date to the Yule Ball as well. When he finally managed to get to the library, it was with a large smile on his face as he tried to think of what exactly to wear. He never dreamed that he would be going, let alone with someone like Dwalin, and he had never been so excited for something since he got his first letter from Hogwarts.
Perhaps this Christmas wouldn’t be so bad, after all.
xxx
“So, do I have to eat your aunt’s fruit cake? Or are you going to do my homework?”
“I said I’d help!” Bilbo corrected when he entered the Common Room and found Bofur waiting for him. “But yes, it’s the homework.”
“I knew it!” Bofur jeered, pulling out his Divinations book. “So who was it? I bet it was that Leggy fellow from Beauxbatons!”
Bilbo only grinned, imagining what Bofur's face would look like when he would see Bilbo arm-in-arm with the large Dwalin Fundinson from Durmstrang.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”