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Selena turned back to Harry, catching his thoughtful expression. "Alright, Potter. What's on your mind?"He shrugged, keeping his tone casual. "Just… family stuff. It can get complicated."
She nodded slowly. "You're not wrong. My family's no exception, especially these days."
"Right," he said, weighing his words carefully. "I heard a few things recently, about some… connections your family might have." He gave her a sidelong glance, letting the statement hang in the air.
Selena's expression didn't change, but her eyes sharpened a little. "Ah. And by 'connections,' you mean the rumors about Bellatrix?"
Harry kept his gaze steady. "More or less. Just thought I would ask, considering everything that's been happening."
Selena let out a short laugh. "Believe me, if she were hiding in plain sight, I wouldn't be here right now. Family ties are one thing, but I've got no interest in getting involved in her mess."
"Glad to hear it," Harry replied. "Didn't think you would, but thought I would check. After all, it's not easy with families like ours."
"Tell me about it," she muttered, crossing her arms. "The Rosier family's got enough skeletons without adding Bellatrix to the mix."
Harry nodded, relieved but not entirely satisfied. "Good. With Fudge gone, things are getting complicated, and the last thing anyone needs is more surprises."
Selena nodded, giving him a faint smile. "Trust me, if she were anywhere near the Rosiers, I would be long gone. I like my life a little less... deranged, thanks."
Harry smirked. "Fair enough. Appreciate the honesty."
"Not like I would lie to you," Selena replied, rolling her eyes. "If anyone's spreading that rumor, it's someone who stands to gain from it." She gave him a look, eyebrows raised knowingly.
Harry feigned ignorance, shifting the conversation smoothly. "So, South America. You pick up anything good on spellwork while you were there?"
Selena's expression softened a bit. "It's a different world out there. We studied at these ancient temples and traced how their magic was tied to Amerind languages. There's so much depth to it," she added, a slight spark in her eye. "Their spells aren't just words; they're alive. Ever tried speaking to fire in a dead language?"
Harry grinned, genuinely curious. "And did it answer back?"
"Not in English," she said with a smirk. "But the flames definitely behaved differently. It's like these spells are more... empathetic, I guess. Old magic. It's raw, unpredictable but feels natural."
Harry chuckled. "Raw, I like it."
She gasped, slapping his arm with a laugh. "Well, it seems that in the last two years, you've stepped right into the teenage hormone zone, haven't you?"
Harry smirked, unfazed. "You know, it's called confidence, Selena. Thought you'd be proud."
"Oh, I'm beaming," she shot back, trying to look unimpressed but failing. "You've gone from polite first-year to making wild comments—Merlin help us all."
They strolled back through the hall, blending in easily with the milling guests. Selena, back in her usual composed demeanor, excused herself from Harry's side as they neared the professors' table. She went to join Professor Goshawk and the other teachers. Seven years at Hogwarts, especially leading Slytherin, had left her close with more than a few professors.
Harry watched her go, almost amused by the difference from the Selena he just been chatting with. He shrugged it off—she had given him nothing to worry about for now, and the Yule gathering was too lively to get bogged down in that mess.
Looking around, Harry caught sight of Petunia, who moved from her conversation with Lady Longbottom to a small circle of Hogwarts' mothers, chatting easily with Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Patil, and a few others.
Dumbledore arrived soon enough, and as expected, he drew the room's attention. With Fudge out of the picture, everyone figured he was the obvious choice for Minister, but Dumbledore had no interest in it, even if a few well-meaning witches and wizards had already tried to convince him. Not that Harry cared much. He gave Dumbledore a polite nod as a good host, exchanged brief greetings, then left him to mingle with the rest of the crowd.
Making his way back to his friends' table, Harry could already see the evening warming up. The dance floor was filling, and groups were forming as people laughed, chatted, and moved to the music. Soon enough, the spotlight of the first dance swung around to Harry. The girls in their group exchanged looks, eyeing Harry expectantly, clearly hoping he would pick them for the first dance, but before he could make a move, two women decided to take matters into their own hands.
Mrs. Zabini was the first to act, sweeping toward Harry with a determined glint in her eye, clearly intent on claiming the dance. She hadn't even made it halfway when, as if by magic, Petunia appeared beside Harry. Without a word, she took his arm, casting a pointed look at Mrs. Zabini.
"Let's not keep everyone waiting, shall we?" she said, leading him onto the floor without giving Mrs. Zabini a chance to protest. Mrs. Zabini shot Petunia a playful, mildly affronted look but didn't press the issue, stepping back with a faint smile.
"You've got a real talent for timing, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, smirking as they settled into the first steps.
"Of course," she replied dryly. "Can't let the first dance go to someone who thinks they can waltz their way into your good graces that easily."
After a while, Petunia released him with a satisfied nod, stepping back to let him join the others. Astoria was the first to catch his arm, pulling him onto the dance floor with none of the shyness the older girls had.
"Ready, Harry?" she asked, her eyes gleaming.
"Let's go, Astoria," he replied, chuckling as he twirled her out onto the floor. She was light on her feet and quick to follow his lead, her laughter filling the air as they moved to the music. When the song ended, she gave a little curtsy, then dashed off to join her friends, satisfied to have had her dance.
AHe barely had a chance to move before Daphne stepped up, arms crossed, looking him over like she was inspecting a suspect. Harry rolled his eyes, giving her a smirk as she held out her hand. No formalities, no games.
"Well, are you going to make me ask?" Daphne asked, one eyebrow raised.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Harry replied, stepping forward and taking her hand.
"Not too tired yet, Potter?" she asked, though there was a hint of a smirk.
"Please. I could do this all night," Harry replied with a casual shrug, taking her hand before she could protest and leading her onto the floor.
They started dancing, and Daphne was as coordinated as ever.
When the song ended, he barely had a chance to catch his breath before Pansy cut in, wearing a mischievous look that was almost daring him to say no.
"So, you've survived the others," she quipped, offering her hand in a gesture that didn't leave room for refusal. "Think you can keep up with me, Potter?"
Harry just smirked, taking her hand. "Think you can?"
Pansy laughed, her eyes gleaming with excitement, and they took off into the steps, both of them matching each other's pace with surprising ease. She was light on her feet, and the two moved in sync, neither of them bothering with unnecessary words. By the end of the song, she shot him a grin, clearly pleased with herself, and sauntered back into the crowd.
Before he could blink, Hermione was beside him, arms already outstretched.
"Let's see if you're as graceful as they say, Harry," she teased, though there was genuine warmth in her eyes.
"Only one way to find out," he shot back, taking her hands and leading her into the next dance. Hermione wasn't the most natural dancer, but she caught on quickly, her determined expression making Harry chuckle as they moved through the steps. When the song ended, she gave a sheepish smile and waved him off, heading back to where her parents were waiting.
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