An End To This Party. (Yule Ball, Final.)

New Chapter in Sheo.bio, 10 chaps a head, this is a bonus chapter brought to you by the madlads over there.

(A/N: Alright guys, this chapter is dedicated to all the Dobby Enjoyers out there. Keep up the grind kings! One last thing, you guys said you preferred two chapters of roughly 2500 words per week so we'll be using this schedule instead.

Of course there'll be bonus chaps, you know me.

Enjoy yourselves. )

'This looked less awkward when it was just words on paper.' Magnus thought, looking at this merry band of young people trying and mostly failing to look like they knew what they were doing.

Rowling did a good job masking the sheer clumsiness of the whole deal, though a magical prom ball with all the problems it caused would have certainly appealed to some demographics.

He saw the people who were way too young to be there, like his very own Luna or the Weasley girl who was probably at her fifth confirmed boyfriend by now, let's hope Harry gets a clue soon or she might bring out mommy's old potion recipes.

'I don't judge…alright, I do judge them quite a bit.'

There were the young girls with wide eyes and too many romance novels shoved deep in their asses to retain a clear mind. Lavender Brown and Padma's sister were textbook examples, though their dreadful talents were akin to a curse.

Most of the school girls and quite a few boys were like this, at least to some extent.

Even he wasn't immune to the charms of the occasion, though it had more to do with the girl in his arm than anything else…damn, he better learn to control all this mushy stuff so he can return to his natural caustic, cold-hearted self.

Then there were the horndogs hoping to get some, now that the fairer sex was more receptive to their advances than usual. The professors will have a field day stopping unbecoming behavior since most of the male population was like this.

He could do this all day, describing each caste large and small in this byzantine structure of suffering we call boarding schools and their balls.

There were the sports jocks and the bookworms, the shy girls with a wild side and the gloomy kids who might pull out an AK one of these days, the popular ones and the social outcasts, and more importantly, a whole bunch of confused children trying to enjoy this because they think they're supposed to.

"You missed your 'eadmaster's whole speech, didn't you?" Fleur said, bringing him out of his thoughts.

What's wrong with being lost in his thoughts? It's a good place, with loads of fun stuff in there. It wasn't his fault if most people don't have nearly enough thoughts to ever get lost in them.

"Yup, but I probably got the gist of it." He said, following up when he saw her unconvinced look. "Competition good, yada yada, International cooperation yada yada, stay in the Light and everything will be fine, a couple crazy stuff and then he wished you a nice meal?"

"You do 'ave a point." She conceded.

Magnus was about to ask her what was up with her accent, not that he disliked it but he knew for a fact she could speak English almost perfectly, and listening to her talking like this was doing a lot of very strange things to his mind.

Unfortunately, he was interrupted before he could do so.

"5 points to Ravenclaw for reminding me that sometimes, shorter is better." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, he could see the strangely dressed old man smiling under his beard.

'Wording.' He thought.

"Always glad to help." He said.

He ignored the mix of surprise, embarrassment, and admonishment in Fleur's face as he guided her to their table. They were seated with the other champions, obviously, but also their respective headmasters and the asshats in chief also called ministry officials.

Minerva was also there, which didn't surprise him.

The transfiguration professor was basically running this school with thin the old goat stretched himself, you can't hold so many titles and expect things to run smoothly without delegating.

As a pureblood gentleman of good breeding, he obviously pulled the chair for the fair lady.

He absolutely didn't do this to earn some brownie points, not at all.

He was Magnus freaking Black, after all, if anything she should be the one trying to get in his good graces.

It would be much more impressive if seeing his flower smiling wasn't enough for him to have a heart attack of the most wonderful variety.

Yes, heart attacks have variety.

No, there won't be further explanations.

The boy calmed himself and sat down next to her, taking a moment to enjoy the confusion on everyone's faces when they looked at their empty plates.

'So that's what Dumbledore feels like, this shit's addictive.'

Addictions were something he loathed with passion, so he cut his pleasure short for the sake of the grind.

'Constant Progression, or whatever it is Dobby Cultists are preaching this week.' He thought, leaning closer to his plate.

Yes, he was aware of Dobby's cult.

No, he won't do anything about it.

"Roasted Chicken." He said loud and clear, and like the complete chumps they were, the elves made it appear in a heartbeat.

"You have stolen my thunder, Mister Black." The uber-powerful century-old wizard who somehow chooses to dress in fancy purple robes said without malice.

Magnus smiled, it was reassuring even if there was little warmth in it.

It's the kind of stuff you pick up after a couple of months climbing the corporate ladder, making connections among the wealthy and wasteful, or just trying to survive another day as a street rat with a druggie mother and a father out to buy milk.

Sensing that his thoughts were taking a grim turn, he ended them with a practiced usage of the mind arts while taking a bite of the positively mouth-watering chicken.

"Delicious," He couldn't but praise them, "The house elves have really outdone themselves this time."

This was a mistake.

"You mean that elves made our food?" Granger said, her face turning pale white.

He nodded absent-mindedly, not one to care for minor subplots about a character he didn't like that much, nor did he care about the political stance of his cousin's friends. That would be weird, even by his standards.

She put down her knife and fork leaving her fancy salad unfinished, frowning deeply as if she had been fed the flesh of young virgins instead of an actually tasty meal for weight loss.

With her expensive gown and less revolting looks, she looked like a princess who was mad at the entire world because somebody stole her pony.

Then she opened her mouth, and it felt like an armageddon of political activism had been unleashed upon them.

Each sentence she spoke was an argument for the freedom of elves, which was all fine by him. Though it was also against their employment in exchange for board and magic, and that was a bit more troublesome.

House elves were, in a technical sense, magical parasites.

They couldn't produce magic of their own, or at least not enough to get by. So they needed an external source, often a wizard or his magic-saturated home where they could dwell in peace for their unreasonably long lifespans.

In exchange, they offer their services to the wizard they're bound to.

It often does result in their mistreatment, Dobby could testify. Magnus didn't know what kind of madness he survived during his stay in Malfoy Manor but it resulted in the elvish abomination known as the Top D.

But many other times, they can live a good life without trouble, like the elves keeping Hogwarts in order.

He could tell this to Hermione, explaining his point bit by bit until she finally understood that eating that salad didn't make her the second coming of Hitler.

'But it wouldn't be fun, now would it?' He pondered, a smile spreading on his lips. 'Could I mayhaps try and make her part of the cult of Dobby?'

"You look evil, mon petit chou," Fleur said, voice light and carefree.

"I'm not a fucking cabbage." He said by habit, "I thought the bad boy look suited me."

She stopped eating that meal whose ingredients he could hardly recognize, let alone name. He was pretty sure there was some fish in there, but it might be really well-done chicken.

The Witch took a look at him, looking for the secrets of the universe judging from her concentration.

"Yes." She finally said, nodding with a self-satisfied smile. "You would look really nice in leather."

These sentences brought so many weird things to the table Magnus had no choice but to seal it deep in his mind, he would contemplate the ramifications later when he was alone and far away from polite company.

Fleur laughed, and he knew she saw that minute shift into a stony expression, the tell of an Occlumens doing some mental heavy lifting.

"Come, we still have to make this first dance." She said, and he barely heard her.

All he had in mind were perfect smiles, silver-gold hairs shining pretty gowns, and the smell of burnt roses flooding his nostrils.

Magnus wasn't sure what it was like to give in fully to a Veela's allure, but he would wager it felt very much like this.

Before he knew it, he was holding her in front of hundreds of people, and he cared for none of them. There was music, a girl he liked, and enough reasons to make her twirl and smile and laugh without looking like a complete lunatic.

So he did just that.

"Good, so you do know how to dance," Fleur said, eyes full of mischief, but there was no hiding that silly, perpetual smile etched on her face.

He wasn't the most knowledgeable on matters of the heart, but if she wasn't sharing at least some of his feelings then he officially knew horse shit nothing about women.

"Of course I do." He rolled his eyes, but he knew his smile looked even dumber than hers.

That was a fact of life, Fleur could trip and fall down on her butt and it would still look more gracious than a top ballerina's performance.

'She's warm.' He thought, still grinning, it was like holding an adorable stove that could somehow put dragons to sleep and throw fireballs when angered 'I wonder how cuddling her would feel.'

He recognized it as a dangerous thought and therefore sealed it according to his newly minted Flower Protocole.

Not properly managing such feelings was known to cause diabetes, and that was ignoring his cosmic-sized sweet tooth.

Minutes passed, and they ended up losing track of time. The same way he lost track of the other champions and their partners, or even the music of the weird sisters beyond a vague rhythm he heard in the back of his mind.

Things were so simple then, so peaceful, he wished it could stay like this.

Sadly, life was hardly fair.

The song ended, and so did their dance.

There was no wild applause or cheers, even as they bowed only a few whistles were heard from the most enthusiastic Hufflepuffs and Albus-It's-Been-A-While-Since-I-Butchered-His-Name Dumbledore because of course, he would.

Most students were simply happy they finally got to dance, others just threw themselves at the food for another helping. He spotted Padma and Luna entering the floor with their partners, and he kept an eye locked on the latter.

If they dared put their hands in the wrong spot, they better ask Moody where he got his enchanted ones made.

"You had a good time." He asked her, chuckling when she dragged him to the tables.

He knew she had her eyes on a certain piece of candy for quite some time now. He wasn't about to complain either, there was a piece of dark chocolate cake with his name on it, after all.

"Oh, yes." She answered after swallowing, but a bit of cream was still stuck on her nose.

It inflicted irreparable damage to his poor heart.

Fleur smiled triumphantly, wiping the cream off with a handkerchief, showing that it was in fact a calculated move made expressly to get through his defenses.

Magnus: 1 Fleur: 1

The Veela's timing was perfect, too. A first dance with her was enough to put his legendary paranoia to rest for a few minutes. Truly, he had found a worthy opponent.

Unfortunately for her, he was Magnus Black.

"Pity, I wanted to taste it." He sighed, "Well, eventually…do you even realize just how devastatingly cute that was? What am I saying, of course you don't."

The Nazeem Offense was too much for his French friend, date, and source of a whole lot of highly confusing feelings he didn't have to deal with the last time he tried the whole 'Life' business.

She wore her blush very prettily, but a defeat was a defeat.

Magnus: 2 Fleur: 1

"I'll get you next time."

"Sure you will." He snorted.

"Oh shut up." Her smile grew predatory, sending delicious shivers down his spine. "I am not done dancing with you, mister."

Magnus soon learned how truthful she was.

It led to him learning yet another valuable lesson about Veelas and their Behaviors; Satisfying one was a long and exhausting business that somehow keeps you wanting for more.

Though he'll keep this conclusion to himself, he just had to get this off his chest somehow.

"You are a wicked, wicked bird lady." He said as seriously as his own father.

"You know you like it."

That, he did.

'The Yule Ball wasn't so bad after all.' He thought, enjoying the warmth once more, he wasn't about to give up on this feeling.

Ever.

…

Up high in one of Hogwart's nameless towers, a dark figure was sitting languidly in a chair of the finest materials.

"Crabbe, what is the situation?" It asked, its squeaky voice was the voice of a monarch.

"I am Goyle, Top D." A bulky human in green robes, wearing a bright silver tie and silver-dotted pants knelt in obvious admiration.

"It matters not, you are but a Draco today." He smirked with the arrogance of the golden king, and all the wisdom of Merlin the great mage. "But one-day things will change, you have my word."

The boy was deeply moved, his voice became hoarse and tearful…but he held back, unwilling to show weakness before his mentor and guru.

"Thank you Top D, I won't disappoint you." He said with conviction, promising to do a hundred more push-ups in honor of the chosen grind master.

Their lord and savior Dobby the Free Elf.

"I know." He sprawled on his seat…no, his throne. One hand lazily holding his head, the others waved off the words of his loyal subject. "Now tell me."

"Yes, Top D." Goyle/Crabbe put a hand over his heart, kneeling still. "The Chad Who Was Promised arrived safely in the ball, as a show of dominance he managed to make the Beauxbatons champion ask him out herself."

"Good, Good." The Top D smiled, proud, "As expected of the scary friend…did he get some?"

"Very likely, things got very heated between the two, they spent the whole night dancing together with no care for anyone else. She was eating him all day long with her eyes, and the Chad reveled in it." The Draco informed his liege, voice full of admiration for the most exalted example of the way of D.

Dobby laughed, and to his faithful, it felt like an earthquake.

Little did they know that an actual small localized earthquake did strike the area. The Wards had absorbed all the damage, but a bit of shock traveled through the castle and somehow focused on this single tower.

"Oh, Maggy, You keep going above and beyond my expectations." The Top D smiled, wordlessly dismissing his servant. "One day, all my disciples shall make you proud, and they will hold the sacred name of Magnus."

He snapped his fingers, and two great banners unfurled on each side of his throne. Their sigil was a gray eagle, amber-eyed, flying on a dark coat, below one could read words written in solid gold.

It was a motto for some or a prayer. A whisper of past glory, a secret told in the ears of those who chose to walk the way of D.

Both a war cry and a warning.

Reject Draco, Embrace Magnus.

…

Author Note:

Hey guys! It's Uncle Sheo!

If you liked the chapter, be sure to comment, leave a couple stones or perhaps read ahead in own platform; Sheo.bio.

I heard some of you madlads were in want of some sweet, sweet Dobby time. Others wanted to delve further into the fluff, embrace the moment and feel just how cheesy it can get when Sheogorath is here.

So I thought, Why not do both? And an extra long chapter at that!

Anyways, thanks for reading, next time we shall please those who want to see some hard magic and spellcasting as well as our favorite functional sociopath but not quite using that big brain of his to figure out some tricky stuff.

A recall to the early days of eagle soars, if you will. When it was all about Magnus managing that bullcrap of a world I threw him in, he did a fine job, and deserved the rest and fluff…would be pretty sad if I started bullying him again.

If you have any suggestions, tell me in the comment or message me in our good ol' discord server. There's a link in the homepage, in the previous chapter and in your mama's fridge.

Criticism is always welcome, as long as you keep it useful and constructive. I know the story ain't perfect, but it's my first real attempt so be understanding. Future stories will be much better, that much I can promise.

Sur ce.

Peace and Cheese!