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“Nice look, Ron. Goes well with your dress robes, that will!” said Fred. Ron’s stack of Exploding Snap had just blown up, singeing his eyebrows. Fred, George, and Lee Jordan sat down at the table.
“So, you lot got dates for the ball yet?” inquired George.
“Nope,” replied Ron.
“Well, you better hurry up, mate, before all the good ones are gone.”
“Who are you going with, then?”
“Angelina,” Fred answered immediately, without a shred of embarrassment.
“What?” Ron asked, disbelieving. “You’ve already asked her?”
“Good point.” He turned around and yelled across the common room, “Oi! Angelina, you want to come to the ball with me?”
She looked at him for a moment before saying, “Alright then,” and turned back to her friend with a smile.
“There ya go,” Fred said triumphantly, raising his eyebrows at Ron.
“What about you two?” Harry asked, nodding at George and Lee.
“Not yet,” George retorted.
“Noooo,” Lee said.
“So what you’re saying,” Ron’s voice was accusing, “is that when you walked in here, none of you had dates, but you tell us to get a move on?”
Harry slipped into his own thoughts for just a minute, feeling jealous of Fred’s easy invitation. Harry didn’t have anyone he wanted to ask. He liked blokes, but growing up around the Dursleys had made him very nervous about asking out any of the guys he actually liked, worried about offending them. There were several guys Harry knew he could ask, but he just wasn’t interested in them. For the most part, the wizarding world didn’t care who you were with. But Harry had never told anyone, not even Ron, where is interests lay.
Harry had fully intended to just invite a girl he could dance with because he had to, but as he looked up across the table and saw Lee laughing at something the twins had just said, the words slipped from his mouth: “Lee, you wanna go—” Harry realized he had said this aloud and finished belatedly, “to the, um, ball.” His insides cramped and froze.
Lee looked Harry up and down, blatantly checking him out. He tilted his head sideways, his long dreadlocks swinging around his shoulders.
He was giving Harry a funny look, and as they made eye contact, Harry realized what Lee was thinking about. The tips of Harry’s ears turned red. Last year, Harry had come back from Quidditch practice late and had run into Lee and Dillon, the Ravenclaw beater in the year above him, in a passionate embrace on a hidden staircase.
There was only a slight pause, but it felt like a terrible hour before Lee said, “Yeah, it's a date.”
Fred and George quickly mentioned they needed to go to the owlery, and Lee got up with them, winking at Harry as he followed them out the portrait hole.
Harry immediately let his head drop onto the book in front of him. Why had he done that? A fourth year, he had just asked out Lee Jordan, a sixth year! The most popular and beautiful boy in Gryffindor—and probably the whole school.
“Harry,” Hermione said. He didn’t move. He didn’t want to look at either of his friends for a while. “Harry,” she repeated, persistent as usual.
“Mhhhhh,” Harry mumbled into the book.
“How did you guys do that, mate?” Ron asked, sounding somewhat awed. “You and Fred just came out and said it. Just like that.”
Harry glanced at Hermione and Ron, who were both looking impressed. That changed to laughter when Harry admitted, “I didn’t even mean to say it. It just sort of came out.”
Harry looked back down at his textbook, trying to study, but the only words that circled his head were It’s a date .
He had been staring at the same sentence for several minutes when he heard Ron speak again.
“Hermione…”
There was a weak “mhmm” in response. She hadn’t looked up from her studies.
“You wanna go?” Ron stammered, his eyes wide and his ears turning pink.
Hermione was now intently staring at Ron, waiting for him to finish. Harry was surprised to see a hopeful expression cross her face before she replaced it with a questioning look.
“To the ball,” Ron muttered, staring at the floor.
“Oh,” Hermione said, pausing for a second before quietly saying, “Yes.”
Harry chanced a glance at his two best friends—Hermione with a light blush and Ron with deep red ears. Yes, Harry had noticed the glances between them before, but he wasn’t sure if anything would actually happen. What if they got together and then broke up? Could their friendship survive?
Neither of his friends mentioned Harry’s choice of date, and he didn’t bring it up either. Everyone had their dates sorted before Christmas break even started, and much of the stress was alleviated.
As the break went on, it became apparent that Fred and George’s Canary Creams were a hit, as people in the common room kept turning into canaries. Harry fell victim on the second day of break when Lee dissolved one into his drink.
Harry thought it was a great joke, and the awkwardness he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying since asking the sixth-year out vanished.
It was Christmas afternoon, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, and Lee went out onto the grounds for a snowball fight. Hermione chose to watch rather than play. At 5 o’clock, she announced she was going to get ready for the ball.
Ron shouted after her, “See you in three hours!” He paid dearly for his distraction, as five snowballs hit him in quick succession, knocking him to the ground.
After an hour, to everyone’s surprise, Lee stopped and said he was going up to get ready too.
“You need two hours?” Ron asked again, still disbelieving.
Walking backward, Lee shrugged. “Got a hot date tonight.” He laughed and turned around, heading up to the castle.
When Harry had asked Lee to the dance, everyone had acted super casual. Nobody had teased Harry, not even once. But now, Harry looked around at the four Weasleys, all staring at him, snowballs in hand...
They shared a devilish grin before Harry was ruthlessly pelted with snowballs. Fred and George made exaggerated “Oooh” sounds, and Ginny yelled, “Melt this hot date!” as she threw a giant pile of snow at him. The war raged for another hour until the sun started to set, and by 7, they packed it in because their hands were too cold to throw straight anymore.
Ron and Harry made their way down to the common room, where they would be meeting Hermione and Lee. Ron had used a Severing Charm on his robes; they were frayed and still looked a bit like a dress, so he wasn’t in a very good mood.
The common room was full, with people milling around waiting for their partners to come down from their dormitories. Harry was wearing his dark bottle-green dress robes and had tried to comb his hair. He was seriously wishing he had put more effort into his appearance when he saw his date coming down the stairs. Harry’s mouth actually dropped.
Lee Jordan was wearing stunning light blue robes with a silver geometric design quilted on them. Several of his dreadlocks were decorated with silver that matched his robes, and he had put in a pair of silver earrings that Harry hadn’t noticed Lee’s piercings before.
When Lee stopped in front of him, Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, “You look... wow,” and then flushed at how stupid he sounded.
Softly chuckling, Lee said, “You look great, Harry.” Harry floundered for a second but heard Ron clear his throat and turned to see Hermione coming down the stairs. Except it didn’t look like Hermione. Her curly, frizzy hair was laying flat down her back, and she looked absolutely gorgeous.
Ron, probably learning from Harry’s earlier blunder, walked up to Hermione and offered his arm. She took it happily, and Ron, looking at his long-time friend, seemed to forget about his own recently hexed-off lace and shabby robes. “You look amazing, Hermione,” he said. She blushed slightly and asked if he was ready to go.
Ron and Hermione led the way out, and Harry and Lee followed. As Harry was leaving, Fred caught his eye, winked, and gave him a wolfish grin.
As they walked down to the Entrance Hall, Lee started telling Harry about his favorite Quidditch team, Puddlemere United, and their last match, where they had been absolutely squashed. It was easy to talk about Quidditch; both boys had a passion for it, though Lee preferred commentating over playing.
When they entered the Entrance Hall, McGonagall called, “Champions, over here!”
Harry turned to say goodbye to Ron, but Ron was just staring at Hermione as she spoke. Harry didn’t think he had ever seen Ron pay that much attention to anyone. He glanced up at Lee, who was a head taller than him. “Shall we?” Lee asked, offering his arm. Harry noticed that most couples had linked arms.
Harry took it, and they went to the side of the door where McGonagall told them to wait so they could enter in procession. She stopped and looked at Lee. For a half-second, Harry feared she might say something about him bringing a male date. But instead, she said, “You do look smart, Jordan.”
He grinned and thanked her.
McGonagall told them to line up in pairs. “Sorry, Harry, we’d better stand in the back.” Lee was right—he was taller than most, and standing in the front would have blocked others. Harry wondered how he looked standing arm-in-arm with such a tall and “out-of-his-league” partner. He saw Roger Davies and Fleur and hoped he didn’t look as awkward as Roger.
As they followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall, they marveled at the beautiful decorations. The walls glittered with frost, and hundreds of mistletoe and holly garlands were strung across the hall. The four house tables were gone, replaced by dozens of round tables that sat about twelve people each.
Harry didn’t like the feeling of everyone watching him, but Lee didn’t seem to notice all the eyes on the champions and their dates. He even high-fived George on his way past. When they arrived at the table, Harry saw all the judges, but at the end, Percy was trying to stare Harry into sitting next to him. Harry took the hint and moved in that direction, but Lee tightened his grip and led Harry to the other side of the table.
Lee bent his head to whisper so only Harry could hear, “Sorry, Harry, but Percy’s gotten me into too many detentions for me to want to share Christmas dinner with him.”
Harry replied that he hadn’t really wanted to hear the latest report on cauldron bottom thickness anyway. Lee, who had been leaning in close, chuckled at this, his breath warm against Harry’s neck. Harry’s heart started to beat faster for some reason, and he wondered if Lee’s laugh had always been that enticing.
They ordered dinner through the enchanted plates, listening to Dumbledore tell a story about a vanishing room he had once used to find a bathroom.
“Professor Dumbledore,” Lee asked, cutting into the headmaster’s conversation. “What floor were you on? And, er, what size stone bricks were on the wall?”
Dumbledore answered that he was on the fifth floor, in a corridor. The headmaster called Lee by name, a familiarity Harry thought only troublemakers earned.
“We should find it, Harry,” Lee said excitedly.
“A toilet?”
“No, a vanishing room!” Harry and Lee spent the rest of dinner theorizing about the room and devising strategies to find it, speaking in hushed tones.
After dinner, the tables were moved away, and a long stage was set up with instruments. Harry eagerly watched as the band members of the Weird Sisters appeared in black.
“Are you a fan of the Weird Sisters?” Lee asked, smiling down at him.
“I’ve never heard them before,” Harry admitted.
“Really? I thought everyone had heard them.” Lee took Harry’s hand. “We’re up.” Harry noticed how much larger Lee’s hand was compared to his own.
The music started to play. “How much have you danced before?” Lee asked.
“Never.”
With that chuckle that spiked Harry’s heart, Lee wrapped his other arm around Harry’s waist and guided him onto the dance floor with ease.
As soon as they started moving, Harry realized that Lee could really dance. Lee guided Harry, who felt like he had two left feet, effortlessly.
“You can dance,” Harry said, sounding amazed.
Lee grinned. He explained that his mum taught people to dance, mostly purebloods for their “stuck-up little parties.” For several summers, he’d been earning pocket money teaching people to dance as well.
“But I’m not teaching tonight!” Lee said as he spun Harry away. Harry somehow managed not to lose his balance, but when Lee pulled him back, he crashed into Lee’s chest. Both boys laughed, and Lee, barely missing a step, rotated them on the spot and pulled Harry back into rhythm. “No, tonight’s for fun!”
Lee said this as he came to a stop, looking into Harry’s eyes with an odd intensity. Harry glanced around, realizing the song had ended. He hadn’t noticed how many people had joined the dance floor, too caught up in watching Lee and his own feet.
“This is a really good song!” Lee said, pulling Harry into the next dance, which was faster. Lee kept up with the beat, unlike most of the couples on the floor. As they danced past one such pair—Professor Sinistra and Mad-Eye Moody—Moody growled, “Nice socks, Potter.”
Harry grinned. “Oh yeah, Dobby the house-elf knitted them for me.”
The two boys chuckled, and then Lee asked, “That house-elf under a stack of hats?” This earned a true laugh from Harry. He explained how Dobby had tried to warn him about the Chamber of Secrets, and how, after Harry had freed him with an old sock, Dobby had been collecting socks ever since.
When the second dance ended, Harry said he wanted some punch. Lee let go of his hand, and they drifted toward the refreshments, looking for their friends. They found Ron and Hermione first. They looked like they were having a good time, but they hadn’t danced yet.
Lee turned to Ron and asked, “Mind if I steal Hermione for the next dance?”
Ron was taken aback but nodded. Lee then turned to Harry. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all,” Harry replied.
Hermione eagerly took Lee’s hand, excited to dance. As they moved onto the floor, Ron turned to Harry. “You never said you could dance.”
“I think Lee can dance for both of us,” Harry said, watching as, in his opinion, the most handsome boy and the most beautiful girl swept across the floor.
Hermione and Lee looked incredibly graceful. They were both wearing light blue robes—Hermione's glinted with silver, and Lee’s was embroidered with the same hue. If Harry himself hadn't asked Lee to come with him, he might have thought they had coordinated their outfits.
Harry couldn’t help but notice how Lee’s body moved with Hermione’s. He twirled her around and did that spin-away, spin-back move that had almost worked with Harry earlier. With Hermione, it was flawless, and Harry was left irritably wondering how long one dance could last.
He glanced over at Ron, whose expression mirrored his own irritation.
“Maybe you should ask Hermione to dance, mate,” Harry suggested.
“What?” Ron asked, bewildered. “I don’t dance.”
“Hermione does,” Harry pointed out.
Ron looked between Harry and their dancing partners. “Hah! You just want Lee back to yourself.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Harry retorted, though at that exact moment, Lee rotated with Hermione again. Harry’s eyes locked with Lee’s dark, almost black eyes, and Lee gave him a lopsided smile before winking. Harry’s returning smile lingered on his lips, and Ron snorted beside him.
When the song finally ended, Hermione and Lee returned, slightly out of breath. They filled their goblets and sat down on either side of Ron and Harry. Lee casually draped his arm around Harry's shoulders, his long hand falling lightly onto Harry’s arm.
The four of them chatted while another song played in the background. As it ended and a faster one began, Lee looked at Harry with a questioning glance. Harry nodded, knowing he needed to escape this cozy position. Lee's warmth and scent—indescribably intoxicating—were starting to cloud his thoughts.
Harry and Lee got up, and Harry turned to see Hermione looking somewhat disappointed. “Come on, Ron, it’s a dance,” Harry said.
Ron, though grumbling, got to his feet and led Hermione to the floor. As they started dancing, Harry could see why Ron had been hesitant—he was struggling to place his hand on Hermione’s waist without turning a deep shade of red.
“I thought Ron and Hermione had been together for, like, ever,” Lee commented, catching Harry off guard.
“Really?” Harry asked, surprised.
Lee nodded as they danced, not far from Ron and Hermione, who looked more relaxed after a few moments. The song ended, and a slow one began. Lee released Harry, and Harry, assuming Lee didn’t want to dance a slow song, started to turn toward the wall. But Lee placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders and said, “Why don’t you lead this one?”
Harry’s cheeks warmed as he awkwardly put his hands on Lee’s waist. They moved slowly, revolving in small, tentative squares. Lee drew closer as they danced, the silence between them filled with the soft sounds of the music and the chatting of the other students, laughter. When the song ended, Lee took Harry’s hand but kept his other hand resting on Harry’s shoulder as they transitioned to the next, slightly faster song. This time, Harry just went with the flow, moving freely like many of the others on the dance floor.
As the night wound down, Harry and Lee made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. At the bottom of the stairs to the boys' dormitories, Lee stopped and said, “I had fun tonight.”
“Yeah, so did I,” Harry replied, and he meant it.
“I think this is the most fun I’ve had dancing in years,” Lee admitted. “I’m usually so focused on getting it perfect, but tonight—just dancing with you, being in the moment—that was different. It was more fun.”
“Well, you looked perfect to me,” Harry said, meaning Lee’s dancing was flawless, though that wasn’t exactly how it came out.
A smile played on the corners of Lee's mouth. In a swift, practiced motion, Lee drew his wand and flicked it with a grin. Harry wasn’t sure what he had done until he noticed Lee looking above his head. He glanced up to see a small clump of mistletoe hovering there, four leaves and three red berries hanging over him.
Harry instantly understood what was happening, and his cheeks flushed again. Lee took a step closer, their bodies nearly touching, and Harry tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut, as he received his first kiss.
Lee pulled back, and Harry felt the chuckle vibrating in Lee’s chest. He flushed even more as Lee reached up and plucked a berry from the mistletoe. “I know I shouldn’t tease you,” Lee said, raising Harry’s chin to meet his gaze, “but you just turn the cutest shades of red.”
He kissed Harry again, this time slightly longer but still chaste. Then he pulled away, taking a second berry. Harry stood there, dumbstruck, as Lee smiled knowingly at him. “Good night, Harry,” Lee said, disappearing up the dormitory stairs before Harry could fully process what had just happened.
But a surge of Gryffindor courage shot through Harry. Grabbing the last berry, he sprinted up the stairs. “Hey, Lee!” he called, spotting him as Lee was passing the fourth-years' dormitory. Lee turned, smiling. Harry tossed the last berry to him. “You forgot something.”
Lee caught the berry, staring at it for a moment before looking at Harry. Harry suddenly felt awkward and began turning to slip into the fourth-year dormitory, but before he could escape, a hand closed around the doorknob—and his own hand. He spun around, face-to-face with Lee, and the next thing he knew, he was being kissed again. This kiss wasn’t chaste at all—it was thorough, deep, and Harry’s arms instinctively wrapped around Lee as they stood pressed together in the dimly lit hallway.
Harry didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but it wasn’t long enough.
A soft voice broke them apart. “If I could just scoot past ya there,” said Neville, awkwardly trying to get into the dormitory as Harry and Lee blocked the door.
Lee looked at Harry, his face still flushed, and gave him a quick, tender kiss on the lips before pulling away. “Happy Christmas,” he whispered, before turning and heading up the stairs.
Ron was sitting on his bed, clearly waiting for Harry. “Whoa, Harry,” Ron started with a quiet laugh. “You look—”
“Snogged,” Neville finished for him.
Harry glanced at the mirror and saw the evidence—his hair completely disheveled, lips red and puffy, and his glasses slightly askew. He climbed into bed, grinning to himself. It had been a great Christmas.