HP: Panem et Circenses

December 10th, 1995

The clatter of cutlery and the excited babbling of over a hundred students buzzed underneath the open ceiling of the Great Hall. Entire groups of girls shrieked with laughter anytime boys passed them and patches of conversation, ranging from dresses to dates and dance moves drifted over the four House Tables.

"Don't drink that!"

A hand was abruptly shoved between Tristan's lips and his cup of pumpkin juice, spilling some over his lap.

"Seriously, Valeria?" Tristan shot his sister a flat look and dried his pants with a flick of his wand.

She snatched the cup from his grasp and twirled her wand over it, murmuring under her breath with her face scrunched up in concentration.

Nothing happened to its contents.

"Mhmm," Valeria hummed, eying the cup suspiciously and taking a quick whiff.

Tristan sighed. "Are you done yet? Can I have my drink now?"

"Hush!" She brought the cup back up to her lips and took a tiny sip, gargling juice from one cheek to the other before licking her lips. "All clear." She shoved it back in front of him. "Thistime..."

"Thanks, my official taster." Tristan rolled his eyes and downed it in a few gulps.

A pack of giggling girls from Ravenclaw passed their spot at the Slytherin table, shooting him small waves and winks.

"You'd be more careful as well if you'd heard what I did over the last few days." Valeria edged closer to him on the bench, glaring daggers at the passing girls. "According to the Hogwarts-Rumor-Mill, Romilda Vane intends to slip you a love potion so you take her to the Yule Ball."

"Romilda Vane?" Tristan choked, catching a glimpse of dark curls within a gang of giggling Gryffindors at the other side of the Great Hall. "Isn't she a third year? She must be like what... thirteen?"

"Which makes her all the more dangerous," Valeria huffed, shooting what must've been her most stern glare across the hall. "The only way for anyone below sixth year to attend the Yule Ball is by dating an older student. You being the Hogwarts champion makes you their prime target."

"Thank Merlin, I have you then," Tristan snorted. "The 'overly-protective-younger-sister-act' scared most of them off this last week. But they're getting bolder now. You should think of something new, something very intimidating."

"It's not an act. I am protective of you," Valeria replied.

"Arguably... obsessed."

"Well, you can't just go with anyone." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Have you finally decided who to take yet?"

'Out of everyone who only wants to go with me because I'm the Hogwarts champion, Adelaide would probably be the best choice, and asking her might finally stop all these girls from pestering me.'

Tristan's eyes flickered over to the 'puffs. Pink crept up Adelaide's cheek as he caught her watching him, a faint flicker of hope dwelled in her eyes and she shot him a small wave.

'But I'd have the most fun with someone else...'

Fleur Delacour irritatingly glanced up from her plate of cake when yet another glassy-eyed boy nervously approached her spot at the Ravenclaw table and addressed her.

Her eyes darkened a few hues and she shut him down with a few choice words. Tossing a veil of silver hair over her shoulder, she turned back to her cake.

Tristan stifled a grin. 'I bet she just wants to be left alone as well.'

"Tristan?" His sister's elbow nudged him in the side.

"I'll ask Adelaide later today," he decided and rose from the bench. "I know Mother and you are not her biggest fans, but at least I know Adelaide somewhat, and taking her to the ball will be bearable."

"It's your choice," Valeria shrugged, busying herself with her fork. "Are you off to Defense?"

"Yeah." Tristan shouldered his backpack. "I'll catch you later."

He picked his way through the corridors, hurrying past packs of giggling and whispering girls to the Defense classroom.

"Today we shall deepen our study of dark creatures," Professor Vance announced as she strode from her office, holding a jar filled with leaves and a few slim green twigs. "One of the most gruesome creations a dark wizard or witch may create is an Inferius."

She placed the jar on her desk and slowly unscrewed the lit. The entire class craned their necks to watch her, some even rose to their tiptoes.

'That looks a bit tight for an Inferius...'

Professor Vance dipped her hand into the jar and took out a single unmoving tangle of thin, green twigs.

'Is that a… grasshopper?' Tristan frowned.

Vance summoned two smaller glass jars from the shelf in the corner. She touched the tip of her wand to the grasshopper in her open palm, before flicking her wand up in a sharp, jerking motion, muttering under her breath.

The grasshopper spasmed back to life and immediately lurched at Professor Vance, clawing with its thin green fangs. She caught it with her wand and hovered it into one of the two smaller jars before sealing the lid shut.

"Naturally these are not real Inferi. Their creation is strictly forbidden by the Ministry of Magic." Vance repeated the process once more with a second grasshopper and passed out each of the jars along the tables to the pairs of students. "However, Headmistress McGonagall allowed me to demonstrate the spell after I assured her to only use grasshoppers."

The pairs of students cautiously studied them, flinching back when the grasshoppers hurled themselves against the glass.

"Even should they break free, all they can do is scratch you a bit. That's because I also tweaked the spell used in their creation, so they lack most of the aggression any real Inferius will display." One of the jars eventually reached Tristan's desk in the back of the classroom. "But anyways, I'm certainly not here to teach you the spell, that would send me straight to Azkaban. What I'll do instead is teach you how to defend yourself."

'The defense is quite obvious.' Tristan picked up the jar and studied the small grasshopper hurling itself against the glass again and again. 'I'm much more interested in their creation…'

"Now then?" Vance strode down between the tables. "Any suggestions?"

One of the Weasley twins raised their hand. "Can't you just… I don't know… blast them apart?"

"Why don't you give it a try, Mr. Weasley," Vance offered.

The twins exchanged a frown. One of them nervously unscrewed the lid, holding his hand above the jar and his wand at the ready. The grasshopper lurched and bit his hand with its tiny fangs.

"Ouch!" Weasley flinched back, eying the sore-looking red pinch mark.

The grasshopper broke free and hopped over the desk at Weasley, pinching every part of skin it could reach.

"Bloody hell!"

Weasley's brother quickly stuck it to the table with a sticking charm, allowing his twin to take careful aim.

"Reducto!"

The spell struck flat, blasting away the majority of the grasshopper's limbs. It glowed with an eerie yellow aura and jerked straight back together. Spasming and twitching, it hurled itself forward and crawled up Weasley's sleeve.

'That should be enough of a distraction…'

Tristan smothered a small smile as the entire class either broke out in panic or alternatively cheered Weasley on. He quickly unscrewed the lid of his own jar and wrapped the grasshopper inside in a thin bubble of magic before pinning it to the desk with the tip of his wand.

'Now then… what exactly are you?'

Tristan let his magic wash through it and tried to get a better feel for it. Endless, hungry shadows of pitch black hurled themselves at each other and ripped themselves apart with sharp claws.

'Bloody hell.' Tristan retrieved his wand. 'This thing is practically drenched in hostile magic and Vance said it's not even the real deal yet.'

He quickly levitated the wanna-be Inferius back into the jar and screwed the lid shut. The rest of the class was still watching Weasley's battle with the grasshopper as it scuttled under his shirt.

"I think we can all agree that 'blasting them apart' doesn't quite work that well." Professor Vance summoned the grasshopper back out from underneath Weasley's shirt and pinned it against the desk like Tristan had. "Any other suggestions?"

"Burn it with fire," Diggory offered.

"Give it a try then, Mr. Diggory."

Diggory confidently raised his wand. "Incendio!" He bathed the twitching grasshopper in bright flames, leaving but a small pile of ash amidst black scorch marks on the table.

"Very well done, Mr. Diggory, take ten points for Hufflepuff." Professor Vance commended and vanished the remains with a flick of her wand. "Fire is indeed the most effective method to combat a real Inferius. Unlike blasting-, cutting-, or even bone-breaking curses, it counters the embedded magic and prevents the Inferius from putting itself back together. There are other ways, of course, but fire is amongst the most efficient."

'If Vance managed to tweak the level of aggressiveness, does that then mean someone who knows the magic well enough can alter the enchantments in the opposite direction?'

Tristan tapped his index finger against the glass, absently watching the grasshopper smash against it.

'Because once imbued with a strong resistance to fire they'd turn into an even more effective weapon…'

"Professor?" Angelina Johnson's voice shook him from his thoughts. "Does it matter what kind of fire you use?" She shifted in her seat and glanced down the row toward Tristan. "What about the spell Peverell used during the first task against the Lethifold? Would that work well against an Inferius too?"

The entire class turned to him. With a few exemptions, like Diggory and Davies, a soft gleam of awe dwelled up in their eyes. Professor Vance chewed at her bottom lip with a small frown, shadows dancing in her eyes.

'Does she even know what spell I used?' Tristan forced his face into an impassive mask as a twist of unease tightened in his stomach. 'Surely she does... But If the Ministry forbids her from showing the real incantation for the creation of an Inferius then I doubt she'll be allowed to teach about Fiendfyre, will she?'

Professor Vance cleared her throat. "Mr. Peverell did indeed use a fire spell, however, given the… form of his creation and the unknown incantation, I would assume it's not a spell any of us would be able to replicate."

"Why is that?" Lee Jordan from Gryffindor asked in confusion. "We learned to conjure fire in our first year. Whatever he used can't have been too difficult, can it?"

"Because it wasn't just fire, it was a fiery snake you dummy," one of the Weasley twins drawled.

The other twins gave him a light slap over the head. "And you, my friend dearest, are not one of the five Parselmouths we have in Britain right now, are you?"

"Oh," Jordan flushed. "No, I don't talk snake."

"It was a Parseltongue spell then?" Vance shot Tristan a long look. "Presumably one that has been kept in the... family for some time, am I correct, Mr. Peverell?"

'A little jab at my parents? I've heard worse...'

"Yes." Tristan nodded with a small smile. "Indeed, it's been kept in the family."

A low murmur rolled over the rows. Heads were bobbed up and down.

"Good," Vance declared cheerfully and clapped her hands. "Let us get back to the Inferi then. Do you have any other questions for me?"

"What kind of animals can you turn into an Inferius, Professor?" one of the 'puffs asked.

"In principle any animal, magical or not. However, the larger the creature re-animated, the more magic is required," she explained. "For anything smaller than a human, there's little difference in strength between an Inferius and its living counterpart save their ability to put themselves back together. Dark wizards of recent history, among them Gellert Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort, preferred to use humans due to their versatility and… availability in battle." Vance's brows drew together a tad. "Of course, using a human corpse offers a certain psychological element as well, which only those who have encountered Inferi before will truly understand."

"What about something like a dragon?" Roger Davies asked. "Has anyone ever tried?"

"I'm sure someone has, however, there's no verified account of anyone ever succeeding in its creation," Vance said. "Medium-sized magical creatures, like a hippogriff, or perhaps even a griffin might be within the realm of possibility. It would still take a wizard or witch of exceptional power to re-animate them. As for anything larger, like dragons, unicorns, phoenixes, and basilisks, I doubt we will ever see them, due to how heavily influenced they're by the natural alchemical magic of their bodies."

'And how difficult is it to control multiple Inferi at once?' Tristan resisted the temptation to ask. 'That sort of question would only flip the switch from them glorifying me to calling me a dark wizard all over again...'

Vance flicked her wand and summoned the two jars back to her desk. "If there are no more questions you may use the rest of the class to read the section on Inferi in your books. I expect ten inches on their characteristics and how to counter them by next week."

'Thank Merlin I'm excused from classes and homework.' Tristan stifled a small smile and began flipping through his book. 'No doubt Inferi are interesting, but I'd prefer a more practical approach over writing a ten-inch essay...'

He swept his stuff off the desk the moment the bell rang and picked his way past his peers out of the classroom.

'On to potions next...'

Steam, smoke, and the lingering stench of a potion gone wrong assaulted Tristan's nose as he pushed open the door to the next lesson. Round tables and collections of velvet-backed chairs scattered the lab. Slughorn sat on the front of his desk, his belly protruding out into the class beneath a box of crystallized fruit. He glanced up and beamed.

"Welcome, Tristan, come in," Slughorn chuckled, chins wobbling, and beckoned him into the classroom. "You're early enough to catch me snacking between lessons. Take a seat, m'boy."

'That's weird. Since when am I 'Tristan' to him?' Tristan settled at his usual spot in the back of the dungeon. 'For five years I was just 'Mr. Peverell'.'

The rest of the class arrived soon, gathering in their usual groups around the tables.

"Let's continue with our Strengthening Solution, everybody." Slughorn began. "I'll be shuffling around as usual to offer help should you have any questions."

'At least it's something interesting, unlike the Hiccoughing Solution we did last time.' Tristan opened his book along with the rest of his peers and studied the recipe. 'One more lesson like that and I'll start skipping potions no matter the tirade Aunt Lily will give me for it.'

He strode across the class and selected the best-looking ingredients from the cupboard. Carrying them back to his desk, he assembled all of them neatly beside his cauldron.

'Time for some more shortcuts.'

Using the edge of his knife, he stripped off the hardened outer skin of his roots before he forced his weight down on the knife, crushing them and producing the maximum amount of juice.

Tristan swept everything down into his cauldron, allowing himself a small smile as the potion turned a perfect, blackcurrant-ish color, then faded to a smooth lilac.

A large shadow fell over his table. "Tristan, m'boy, how are we doing over here?"

"Rather well I'd say." Tristan began stirring in sets of sevens and waited for his potion to shift toward a pale pink before he threw in an extra stir in the opposite direction. "See for yourself, sir."

Slughorn strolled a little further around and leaned on the side of the table beside Tristan.

"Oho, I see what you're doing there," he chuckled good-naturedly, his chins bobbing down onto the brass buttons of his waistcoat. "You're slowing down the formation of the potion, thereby increasing its potency. Quite cheeky of you, since equally, it might just ruin it."

"Every now and then I like to test the hypothetical side of academics." Tristan smiled a sharp, bright smile while adding salamander blood to his potion. "What's life without a little risk, Professor?"

A faint shadow passed across Slughorn's face and the grin froze on his lips.

"Professor?"

"It's – it's nothing, m'boy." The shadows fleeted as Slughorn tore his eyes away from Tristan's smile. "Actually, I've got a little something for you, here..." He pulled out a slim slip of ribbon-bound paper from within his robes, offering it to Tristan. "I think with your splendid performance in the first task, it's about time for you to join us at one of my frequent little dinners… very proud to have you in my House, m'boy, very proud indeed."

'So that's why I'm 'Tristan' all of the sudden.' Tristan accepted the slip, catching a brief glimpse of Diggory's and Davies' scowl over Slughorn's shoulder. "Thank you, Professor."

"Not for that, m'boy. You've more than earned it," Slughorn beamed before glancing down at his silver pocket watch. "Would you look at that… Time is up everybody!" He called to the entire class and shuffled back to his desk around the cauldrons. "Now then, who'd like to present their results?"

Tristan unrolled the slip of parchment as Diggory began expanding about his Strengthening Solution in the background.

Dear Tristan,

I hope you would do me the honor of joining me for dinner in my office, tonight at 7 pm. Feel free to bring a date with you.

~ Professor H. J. Slughorn

'If I knew I only had to kill a Lethifold to be invited to the SlugClub I would've done so ages ago.' Tristan smothered a snort and cleaned his desk along with the rest of the class. 'Still, Slughorn might prove a useful contact to have on my side.'

He strode out of the classroom and slipped into the shadows of the next best alcove. 'Besides, Valeria dreamed about attending these dinners for years, so it'll be a nice surprise if I invite her to come with me.'

"Talking about dates and Valeria..." Tristan cringed. "There's something I promised her I'd still do today..."

He took out the Map and unfolded it. Lines of black ink blurred into each other, faded, and suddenly reappeared all over the parchment.

"One month into trying to fix it and it's still a fucking mess," Tristan sighed and touched the tip of his wand at the middle of the Map, forcing in a little magic. "Adelaide Goldstein."

An ink footprint and name tag flickered by the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Far from perfect, but I suppose that's better than searching the entire bloody Castle for her..."

Tristan pocketed the Map and strode back out into the corridor, conjuring a slim, red rose out of thin air.

'Mother would want me to at least put in some effort.'

He approached Adelaide, who chatted with a few of her seventh-year friends at the bottom of the Giant Staircase. The moment they caught sight of him, they all broke out into a high shriek of giggles and ushered her to turn around.

All eyes suddenly turned to him, conversations were paused or dropped to hushed whispers.

'How lovely.' Tristan cringed. 'At least the more people see it the fewer will pester me until the ball...'

"Tristan!" Adelaide beamed and quickly hushed her friends before she bounced closer to him. Her eyes dipping low to the rose in his hand and a touch of pink crept up her cheek. "Hey, how's your day been?"

"Great." Tristan ran a hand through his hair and blocked the envious stares from dozens of girls around him. "Listen,- uhm- I was wondering if you'd like to be my date to the Yule Ball?" He flashed her a bright smile and tentatively offered her the rose.

"Yes, of course!" Adelaide cheered. "A thousand times yes!" She snatched the rose from his grasp and flung her arms around his neck, crushing herself against him.

"Awesome." Tristan somewhat awkwardly patted her back. Over the top of her head, he caught sight of familiar golden curls in the small crowd that had gathered around them and gently pried himself out of her embrace. "That's great, really..."

"Oh Morgana, I'm so excited." Adelaide flushed. "Are you a good dancer? Is there anything I need to know as the champion's date? What color should I wear?"

"Woah, easy there." He squeezed her hands. "I'm glad you accepted and there's nothing else you'll need to worry about. Just let me know what color you'll be wearing sometime next week so we can match, okay?"

"Of course, I'm sorry!" She nodded eagerly. "I'm just so happy you've asked me."

"No worries, I'll talk to you later then." Tristan turned and headed to his sister, feeling countless eyes bore into his backside. "Happy now?"

She raised a slim eyebrow. "That you finally asked someone? Yes, I am. With your choice…?"

"I know, I know…" Tristan rolled his eyes and steered her by the arm away from the Great Hall. "Come, let's get back to the common room."

"What- why?" Valeria frowned. "Dinner is about to be served."

He chuckled and fished Slughorn's slip of parchment from within his robes, handing it to her. "You'll have dinner a bit later but it won't be in the Great Hall tonight."

Valeria's green eyes widened as they flickered over the writing. "You've finally been invited?" She beamed. "And you're taking me?!"

"Well, I'm allowed to take another person and I know you've been hoping for an invitation for some time now." He shrugged. "Besides, with you there, we can laugh about Sluggy's favorites together."

"But it already begins at seven." Valeria gnawed at her bottom lip and picked up the pace, hurrying straight into the common room and towards their dorms. "I'll have to pick something nice to wear, re-do my make-up, and style my hair within less than an hour!"

"May Circe help you." Tristan rolled his eyes. "Stop fretting and just meet me down in the common room when you're ready."

Valeria skittered off with a small squeal. Tristan headed for his own dorm and skimmed through his wardrobe for a set of proper robes, eventually deciding on a pair of dark blue ones. He quickly switched into them and made a few attempts at taming his hair.

"That ought to do," Tristan added some cologne and strode back out into the common room. He took a seat by the fireplace and spun his wand between his fingers while waiting for Valeria.

"How do I look?" His sister nervously stepped next to him. A dark green dress fell down to her calves, her golden curls were held together in a bun and a few pieces of jewelry sparkled on her arms and neck.

"You look lovely." Tristan smiled and offered her his arm. "Ready to go?"

"Yes." Valeria gave a shaky nod and linked herself in, fingers fidgeting with the pair of earrings that bounced on each side of her neck.

"Tristan, m'boy." Slughorn opened the doors to his office with a bright beam. "You came."

"Of course, Professor." Tristan inclined his head with a small smile. "I've brought a very special guest as well."

"Oho, your younger sister, how delightful! You look fabulous, Valeria." He winked and ushered them inside. "Come in, come in, and help yourself to an aperitif. Almost everyone is here already."

Roughly a dozen students in colorful robes sat on either side of a long velvet-covered table in the middle of the office. Smaller, aperitif-laden tables scattered around it and bottles of elven wine ornament the tall shelves.

"Settle down, settle down," Slughorn beamed, gesturing to the four remaining empty chairs by the front of the desk.

Tristan pulled back the chair next to a pretty, strawberry-blonde from Valeria's year, who he vaguely recognized as Daphne Greengrass, and took the seat between his sister and the remaining empty ones.

A plate with fruit was positioned in the middle of the table. Tristan stole a handful of cherries for himself.

"I'm sure you'll know most folks already but I'll still make the introduction in a second." Slughorn lingered by the head of the table. "We're just waiting for-"

A knock on wood rang through the office.

"Oho, and that will be my last guests for the night." Slughorn waddled back to the door as fast as his small legs managed and opened it.

The breath caught in Tristan's lungs and a lonely cherry slipped through his fingers into his lap.

Fleur Delacour stood in the entrance to Slughorn's office, glowing like a flame in the darkest night. A single, thin strap crept over her creamy white shoulder and spread into a shimmer of crimson. Red as her lips, the silk wrapped itself tightly around her midriff and hips before flaring out at the height of her thighs, revealing endless, smooth legs.

Slughorn opened the door a little wider. "Roger, I'm so glad that you could make it!"

'Roger?'

A fist of ice closed itself tight around Tristan's heart.

Delacour's arm was linked with another's. Roger Davies carried a goofy smile, his gaze glued somewhere down the front of her dress. An ugly, screaming heat bubbled through Tristan's veins, and dark mist curled around his fingers.

'She's here with Roger fucking Davies?'

"And this must be the charming Beauxbatons Champion, Mademoiselle Delacour," Slughorn chuckled. "You're a very lucky wizard, Roger."

Davies failed to tear his glassy eyes away from his date and merely nodded, remaining silent as a fish.

"Merci, Professor Slughorn." Delacour offered Slughorn a soft smile, her eyes flickered over his head and met Tristan. The smile widened a fraction. "It was most kind of you to allow me to attend tonight as well."

"Nonsense, my dear. International cooperation is what the Triwizard Tournament is all about, isn't it? Come inside, you two, come inside!" Slughorn led them to the table. "Everyone else is here already, you may take seats next to Valeria and Tristan Peverell." He chuckled good-naturedly. "I trust you two can get along despite this fabulous competition."

Tristan forced his lips into a cheerful grin. "I wouldn't want to ruffle anyone's feathers at a party."

Delacour laughed, soft and high. "We will be fine, Monsieur Slughorn." Her summer-sky blue eyes sparkled in delight as she floated closer to Tristan with a bright smile.

Davies finally managed to tear his eyes up from Delacour's hips and stumbled ahead of her to pull the chair furthest from Tristan out. "Here you go, Fleur."

She laughed softly. "Merci beaucoup, Roger. But I'd really like to sit next to Tristan tonight." She cocked her head and smiled sweetly. "You don't mind, do you? Tristan and I are already... familiar with each other after all. Did you know he speaks français as well?"

"Fine, whatever." Davies gritted his teeth and pulled back the other chair, shooting a glare at Tristan.

Delacour gracefully took her seat and crossed her legs, her dress hitching up her upper thigh by a couple of inches. She caught Tristan's gaze with a small smirk and made no move to adjust the dress.

'And so the mind games continue...'

Tristan rolled his eyes as Delacour carefully positioned her long braid of silver hair over her shoulder. A whiff of sweet vanilla invaded his nostrils and his heart lurched strangely in his chest.

'And I thought this might be a quiet, peaceful night.'

"Splendid!" Slughorn squeezed himself into his seat and clapped his hands together. "Allow me to make the introduction then."

Tristan let his eyes roam over the dozen guests as Slughorn drawled on and on about what famous family members they had and how talented they were in their respective fields.

'Carrow, McLaggen, Greengrass, Zabini, Granger, Black, McKinnon, Potter, Diggory, and all of their respective dates if they brought any.' He smothered a small smile. 'I suppose my favorite Slytherin foursome is still enjoying their paid little... vacation.'

Delacour suddenly leaned closer to him and snatched a cherry from his plate "Bonsoir, Tristan." She flashed him pearly white teeth and leaned close enough for Davies not to hear her whispers. "Out of everyone in this room, you seemed the most surprised to see me here tonight." She popped the cherry in her mouth and licked her lips with a small moan. "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

Tristan smothered a stab of irritation underneath a smile matching hers in brightness.

"I was less surprised about you appearing here than I was by your choice of date, petite Fleur," he quipped back in French. "How many wrong turns did Davies take because his mind and eyes were occupied elsewhere? It's really no wonder you've arrived late to the party..."

Delacour laughed softly. "Oh, how much I've missed having fun with you, Tristan." Her voice turned into a sultry whisper "But what do you suggest I do about Roger?" Her lips curved into a small pout, though the sparkle in her eyes remained bright as ever. "Perhaps I should take his… mind off things like Adelaide did for you?"

The ugly heat twisted tight in Tristan's stomach like a boiling knife and his fingers twitched. "I don't care what you do, petite Fleur, as long as you stop stealing my food." He moved his plate with fruits further away from her and popped all but one of the remaining cherries in his mouth.

"You have no right to be upset with me, Tristan." Her soft laughter brushed over his neck. "I waited almost two weeks for you to gather the courage to finally ask me to the Yule Ball, but you never did." Her blue eyes bored into his. "I was left with no choice but to settle for the… next best option."

"Don't let your poor date hear that." Tristan glanced up the table to Davies who glared at them and gritted his teeth in irritation. "It'll break his heart or at the very least crush any hopes he had on how this night might end for him."

Davies audibly cleared his throat. "Fleur, perhaps we-"

Delacour smiled softly and placed one delicate hand on Davies' thigh. "Just a moment, Roger. Tristan and I are holding a magnificent conversation."

"Fine," Davies spat.

Delacour turned back around and edged even closer to Tristan. "Unfortunately, he's like all the other boys." She stole the last bright red cherry with two slim fingers from Tristan's plate and popped it between her lips with a small smirk. "Unlike you. You're much more fun than any of them, Tristan..."

"But now onto our latest addition to these little gatherings, Tristan Peverell!"

Slughorn's overly enthusiastic voice boomed through the office and all eyes turned to him.

'Time to face the SlugClub.'

"Where do I even start?" Slughorn chuckled. "Well, you're Hogwarts' Triwizard Champion, of course, and in addition the youngest one to have ever represented any school."

Across the table, Diggory and Chang's eyes burned into him. Roger Davies covered a snort with a small cough.

"Now now, gentlemen." Slughorn waggled a thick, fleshy finger at Davies. "Tristan's performance in the first task leaves no doubt as to why he was chosen by the Goblet, nor how he managed to score among the highest ever recorded for his OWLs. He's perhaps one of the most brilliant students Hogwarts has ever seen." Slughorn continued to shower him with praises. "There are so many doors open to you, m'boy. What is it you'd like to do after school?"

'Something great...' Tristan caught Delacour watching him with a curious gleam in her summer-sky blue eyes. 'Because I was meant to...'

"There's so much more to learn about magic, sir." He leaned back in his chair. "I'll go wherever that might take me."

Faint shadows swirled in Slughorn's eyes just as they had during potions earlier. "I- I'm sure you'll excel in whatever it is you'll end up doing, m'boy."

'Oh, I know I will.' Tristan offered him a small smile. "I'll take your word for it, Professor. They say you've never been wrong about a student of yours."

"Do they really?" Slughorn's belly shook with laughter. "Well, I suppose I do have a knack for spotting talent in young pupils and helping them turn it into fruition. What about your sister then? Do you have ambition for your time after Hogwarts, Valeria?"

"I'd be a poor Slytherin if I didn't, Professor." Valeria skillfully took over the conversation, deflecting any questions that more than scraped the surface.

Delacour leaned closer to him again, a small smile gracing her lips. "Your petite sister reminds me very much of my own, Tristan. They should be almost the same age."

"Do with me whatever you want and play your little games, but please leave Valeria out of it." Tristan rolled his eyes and grabbed another handful of cherries, pulling his plate between him and Delacour. "She's too innocent to be corrupted by you yet."

"How rude." Delacour feigned a small gasp. "Are you implying I'm not innocent myself, Monsieur?" She moved to pick a cherry from his plate.

"Let's just say I very much doubt it." Tristan ignored the rush of warmth when the bare skin of her arm brushed against his fingers.

She closed her eyes, popped the cherry in her mouth, and swallowed slowly. "Then perhaps it was just a clever trick-," her eyes sparkled brightly when she opened them again, "-to find out whether my cherry has been popped yet?"

Tristan snorted audibly. "That was just horrible, and I'm sure it wouldn't have sounded any better in English either." He leveled her with a flat look. "Why don't you just tell me what you want, petite Fleur?"

She held his gaze with warm blue eyes. "I'd like a dance."

"A dance?" Tristan frowned.

"Oui." She nodded with a smirk. "I was very upset when you didn't ask me to the Yule Ball. You will make it up to me with a dance. That's only fair, non?"

'I would've probably ended up dancing with her one way or another.' Tristan sighed. "If I give you this dance, petite Fleur, will you promise to lay it off for tonight?"

"Oui, je promets." She toyed with the stalk of her cherry before tearing it off, shooting him a coy look. "Although I don't know why you'd punish yourself like that, Tristan." She brought the cherry to her lips, hovering it a finger's length from her open mouth. "You enjoy our little banter just as much as I do."

"Perhaps I do." He admitted, feeling a grin tug at the corners of his lips. 'But I enjoy winning even more.'

'And I will win these little mind games you're trying to play with me, petite Fleur.'