𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐙𝐄𝐍, harry potter (EDITING)

36. The Ballad of Ron's Bonnet

"Good morning, baby."

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ELSA POV

Morning came gently, like a secret whispered across the castle grounds. I slipped into my uniform, layered it with my Gryffindor robes, and let a mischievous smirk tug at my lips. My steps echoed faintly down the hall, already plotting how to tease Harry just a little—he'd earned it.

As I entered the Great Hall, I spotted him at the table, casually sipping water, completely unaware.

I leaned close, lowering my voice to a purr beside his ear.
"Good morning, baby."

The result was immediate. He choked. Water burst from his mouth in a spray of surprise.

Ron, Hermione, and Anna all stared at us with collective confusion while I calmly sat beside him, entirely unbothered.

Before Harry could recover, a boy with neatly stacked boxes walked over to our table, puffing slightly.

"Parsel for you, Mr. Weasley, Miss Scamanders," he said, placing the packages in front of us.

"Thank you very much, Nigel," Ron replied politely, then added hurriedly, "Not now, Nigel. Later. Go on."

Nigel hesitated for a heartbeat, eyes darting from me to Harry with obvious curiosity, before turning on his heel and leaving.

Harry turned to Ron with narrowed eyes.
"Explain."

I blinked, "I told him I'd get him El and your autograph," Ron answered with a sheepish shrug before tearing into his own parcel. "Oh look—Mum sent me something... a dress?"

I burst into laughter as Ron held up the hideous fabric, confusion clouding his face.

Anna and I quickly opened our own boxes. My fingers brushed over black silk. The dress inside shimmered with dark elegance—it was short, hugging just to mid-thigh, with full sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, held by off-shoulder strings. Knee-high boots nestled beneath it, sleek and sharp.

Hermione peeked in.
"Wow, you would look gorgeous, Elsa."

Harry leaned in, voice like velvet in my ear.
"And hot. And sexy. And beautiful."
His breath grazed my skin.
"I can't wait to take it off you."

I shoved him gently away, shaking my head, half-blushing, half-laughing. He never missed a moment to be utterly inappropriate.

I moved to Anna's side and helped her open her own parcel. Her dress was ethereal—pure white, floor-length, sleeveless with delicate straps, and a slit up the right side that added just enough daring.

"Oh my god," I gasped, admiring it. "I can't wait to see how beautiful my sister looks in this dress."

Harry, rifling through my box again, pulled out a folded note.
"Elsa, it has a letter."

I took the parchment and unfolded it.

Dear Elsa,
A ball is coming. As a champion, I wanted you to look magnificent. Whoever is your partner (of course it's Harry), tell him to buy a black suit so you both match. McGonagall will explain more.
We love you,
Mum and Dad.

I closed the letter and tucked it away, catching Harry's eye with a look that said we'd discuss this later.

Across the table, Ron was still puzzling over his parcel.
"Well, it does match your eyes. Is there a bonnet?" Harry teased, draping the hideous thing across Ron's chest.

Ron turned to Ginny hopefully.
"Oh yeah, Ginny, these must be for you."

"I'm not wearing that—it's ghastly," Ginny snapped.

Hermione tried (and failed) to contain her laughter as she revealed,
"They're not for Ginny. They're for you."

Harry lost it.

Later that day, Professor McGonagall summoned the champions and other upper-years. She separated boys and girls, her tone formal but eyes sparkling.

"The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since its inception," she began, pacing with regal grace. "On Christmas Eve, we gather in the Great Hall for well-mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect you all to put your best foot forward. And I mean this quite literally—because the Yule Ball is, first and foremost... a dance."

I watched Harry from across the room as she continued,
"To dance is to let the body breathe. Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth."

Harry winked.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Inside every boy, a lordly lion, prepared to prance."

I blinked.

And then it clicked.

My jaw dropped. I stared at Harry, horrified and amused all at once. He only smirked and turned away as if utterly innocent.

That smug menace.

Suddenly I noticed Ron.

Dancing.

With McGonagall.

The twins were already howling with laughter. Harry leaned over and whispered to them, and I could only imagine what mischief was brewing now.

"Everybody, come together," McGonagall instructed.

All the girls rose to their feet.

"Boys, on your feet," she barked. And the groaning began.

The next day, the common room was quiet. Ron was off sulking after an unfortunate run-in with Fleur, and Dean and Seamus were MIA. Hermione and Anna had dragged Ron somewhere for "outfit planning," which sounded suspiciously like sabotage.

I sat on Harry's bed, flipping through a book absentmindedly.

He walked in, dropped to one knee, and looked up at me.

"Elsa Scamander," he said with a grin, "will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

I smiled so hard my cheeks ached.
"Of course."

And we fell into a warm hug, tangled in a promise of winter nights, swirling music, and stars overhead.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Inside every boy, a lordly lion, prepared to prance."

Word Count- 800+