Yule Ball Redux Chapter 1 (Patreon)

Content Warnings: Semi-Public Snogging.

There was something about Harry Potter, Parvati mused, leaning against the counter, watching the newly minted professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts from the corner of her eyes. She usually wasn’t one for social events anymore, but Lavender had convinced her (as she often did), and Parvati Patil had left her attic and traded in her tea leaves for a sweeping white ballgown. 

“You know him?” the young man mixing her drink asked, obvious awe in his voice. 

Parvati spared him a glance, he was barely twenty. No wonder he knew only of the myth, and not the man himself. 

“We studied together,” Parvati replied, accepting the offered drink and downing it in a single gulp. She needed the liquid courage for what she was about to do. “He owes me something.”

She set the glass back down on the counter before searching the crowd for her best friend. She finally located the blonde next to the Christmas tree, flirting with the French Ambassador. Good.

Satisfied, she sauntered over to the original target of her attention, pushing through the small crowd surrounding the hassled man. 

“Mr. Potter?” Her smoky eyes narrowed as she held up a hand for him, “I do believe you owe me a dance.”

The look of surprise on the man’s face was instantly replaced by one of relief as he took her hand, allowing her to lead him onto the dance floor. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, his free hand snaking around her waist as he pulled her closer. 

“My motive for that wasn’t exactly altruistic. You do owe me a dance.” She smiled, surprised by the ease with which he guided her around the dance floor. 

Gone was the hesitation, the awkwardness; the reluctance that had consumed him in their youth. She wondered if it was age or his tryst with Weasley that had brought forth this maturity.

Shame that they hadn’t lasted. However, if Lavender was to be believed, their tastes hadn’t exactly been compatible.

“Do I?”

His voice was deeper, more melodious. If teenage Parvati had desired to lay claim to the legend of Harry Potter, adult Parvati very much wanted the man he had grown up to be. Wanted him to push her up against a wall, to-

“Parvati?”

“Hmm?”

“I owe you a dance?”

“Mhm. Yule Ball. Fourth year.”

“You still remember that?”

The fact that the man sounded genuinely apologetic filled her with a strange sense of satisfaction. 

“You dumped me after a single dance and the Beauxbatons guy I tried to pick up afterward puked on my dress. Not the kind of night-” She let him dip her, trying her best not to lose her train of thought as she was pulled back up against his deliciously firm chest, ‘-a girl forgets.”

“I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

We find an empty bathroom, you bend me down over the sink, a hand in my hair and the other traveling up my-

“It’s the Yule again.” She cleared her throat, trying to banish the images of being pulled up against his chest as he slammed into her from her mind. “A dance and a drink stronger than butterbeer seem like a good start.”

She pulled away from him as the song petered out, curtsying. Ignoring the expectant look the man next to them was giving her, she grabbed his arm, pulling him off the dance floor and back towards the bar. 

“What’s your poison of choice?”

He had been surprisingly amenable to the idea of exiting the dance floor, and she suspected the shy, sensitive soul that disliked being the center of attention was still hidden somewhere under the new confident exterior.

Not that she minded. The relative seclusion of the bar suited her just fine. 

“Firewhiskey, on the rocks.”

“Two firewhiskies, on the rocks,” he ordered, smiling at the bartender, who stood there frozen, his eyes wide.

He was only broken out of his trance by Lavender leaning against the counter next to her and asking for a glass of Champagne with her most flirtatious smile. 

“Uhm-right, right away,” he mumbled, turning around to prepare their drinks. 

“Still got it,” she whispered, winking at Parvati before turning to Harry, “Hey Harry!”

“Hey, Lavender. How’s the bookstore?” 

“Doing well. I expect to see more of you in Hogsmeade now that you have the job. Perhaps in the company of our delightful professor of Divination?”

She turned back to look at Parvati, her eyes sparkling with mischief, only to be met by a glare.

Best friend or not, woman, if you-

“Thanks love.” The bartender interrupted the trio with their drinks before any secrets could be spilled. Lavender grabbed her glass of Champagne as Parvati turned to Harry with an apologetic look on her face.

How long had it been since he and Ginny had broken up? A year?

Pursuing the man she wanted, consequences be damned, was Lavender’s style, not hers.

“Lav just meant I- Lavender!” Parvati shrieked as she felt something wet splash against her bare back, before traveling down, leaving sticky trails on her skin as it soaked the bottom of her white dress.

“Oops. Sorry.”

She did not sound sorry at all. In fact, her voice sounded suspiciously gleeful. 

“Impossible to walk around in these new heels I bought yesterday. I keep tripping!” She pushed a stray lock of blonde hair out of her face, looking down at Parvati’s ass.

Parvati followed her and Harry’s gaze, realizing the Champagne had completely soaked her dress and now very little was left to the imagination.

“You better go dry yourself Parv. While that is one delectable ass,” Lavender winked at a now pink Harry, “I doubt you want to flash half the Ministry. Harry, be a gentleman and lend her your blazer and wand. She won’t be able to clean that all by herself.”

“Lav-”

“I’d stick around and help, but look! The ambassador is waiting and I’ll be damned if I lose him to one of those vultures circling around him.”

With a wave, she sauntered back to the dance floor and her date for the night.

The Bathroom:

“I’m sorry about Lav,” Parvati mumbled, busying herself with grabbing tissues from the box on the sink to avoid having to look up at the man behind her.

“You know, she could have just asked us to get a room.”

“You mean you-”

“Noticed her rather transparent ploy? Yes.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t see me complaining.”

What the fuck did that even mean? Was he just being nice? Did he mean he didn’t mind the current situation they were in? 

“Uhm-you aren’t?” she croaked, frozen in place as he grabbed the tissues from her hand, their bodies dangerously close to each other as he leaned forward. 

“This night is about me earning forgiveness for everything that went wrong on our original Yule date, isn’t it? If I remember correctly, the boy you danced with spilled-”

“Puked,” she corrected.

“Puked on your dress, and I had my head stuck so far up my own ass that I wasn’t around to help you clean up,” he said, pulling back after having wet the tissues. “Lavender is giving me an opportunity to make amends.”

“That she is.” She tried not to shiver as a gentle hand ran the wet tissue down her bare back, biting her lower lip to avoid making a sound. 

She wondered how far he planned to take his amends. She had had every intention of maneuvering the boy under mistletoe that night for a snog. Was he amenable to making amends for ruining that particular plan of hers as well? 

 How the fuck are you going to find mistletoe in a bathroom, woman?

She closed her eyes, telling the annoying voice in her head to shut up. His hand was on her shoulder, pulling her closer as he cleaned her back, and she could feel his breathing grow heavier as his hands (and eyes) traveled down her back. 

What was it that Lavender liked to say?

Still got it, the voice in her head reminded her helpfully. 

Their flirtation came to an abrupt halt with the sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom door, the girl fully expecting Harry to pull away from her. Instead, she had to press a hand against her mouth to muffle her surprised yelp as he pulled her into one of the stalls, shutting the door behind her and leaving them confined together in an impossibly small place.

No escape now.

Her back was pressed against the door, hands on his chest. She smiled nervously as she looked up into his gorgeous emerald eyes, only for him to wink and place a finger on her lips. 

She nodded, praying the person outside couldn’t hear her heartbeat. She was certain Harry could. Why had he pulled her in with him? He could just as easily disillusioned himself or hidden in a stall alone.

The tea leaves had portended a monumental change in her life that month. But Fate (and Lavender), could only get her so far. 

She had to take the final step herself. 

She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. A wreath of mistletoe appeared over their bodies with a quiet pop and she congratulated herself on a job well done. 

“Look Mr. Potter, mistletoe,” she whispered taking advantage of the person outside running the tap. She hoped the sound of water was enough to muffle their whispering, but at that point, she was beyond caring even if it didn’t.

“Mistletoe in a bathroom stall? I could have sworn it wasn’t there a minute ago,” he whispered back, looking up at the new addition to the stall. 

Was he moving closer to her? 

He was moving closer to her, eliminating the minuscule distance left between them. 

“Fate, if I had to guess.”

“Does fate have a plan for the person outside?”

“I bet Fate doesn’t care,” she breathed, tilting her head up to look at him, glad that her heels reduced their height disparity to a manageable level. “And if she had to guess, she’d guess Mr. Potter doesn’t care either.” 

The water was still running, and Parvati silently thanked her stars for making sure the person had not entered the stall next to theirs. 

“Now why would fate guess that?”

He was pressed against her, their noses touching, and Parvati had to remind herself to breathe. 

“A little birdie might have told Fate that Mr. Potter liked people watching him give petite black-haired women bruised bottoms.”

“And what does fate think about that?”

The water was still running. A part of her mind wondered who needed to wash their hands for that long and why, but most of her brain had decided to concentrate on the two hypnotic green eyes peering down at her. 

“She isn’t quite sold on the idea of people watching, but she thinks the rest of it sounds lovely-”

She was cut off as his lips pressed against hers, and she gave in, pressing her body against his, not caring to stop the soft moan that escaped her lips. 

The small part of her that was still aware of things other than the taste of his lips realized he had grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands over her head and pinning them against the door with one of his own. 

More. She wanted more. 

It was almost as if he had read her mind, his free hand moving to her breast, fingers digging into the soft flesh as their tongues dueled for dominance. 

She had no idea how long they stayed like that, entwined in a kiss long overdue, but in the fight between her desire for him and her need to breathe, breathing finally won and she pulled away with a gasp. She let her head fall back against the door, looking up at him with a sheepish smile. 

“Am I forgiven?”

“It’s a start.”

Lavender Brown slipped out of the bathroom with a smirk, her mission accomplished.