An Interference of Portraits

Bloody Quadrilles

'Bloody hell, mate!' said Ron through the noise and I had to agree.

'I think I need a strong drink,' I said.

'You ad-libed that?' said Draco, filling my wine glass.

I waved a waiter over and ordered a Firewhisky. 'Yeah,' I said, 'but I've been thinking about it a lot over the few past weeks. Especially since Dublin. It's not about fighting one prejudice, it's about fighting them all. No one should feel excluded because they're "different" and not understood for that. That lacks empathy on our part.'

'You just fucking came out to the world!' said Ron. 'You didn't even tell mum first.'

'I—yeah—I wasn't really intending to announce I'm gay but I don't want to hide who I am, it doesn't make sense when I've been fighting against discrimination all this time, only to hide who I am. So, it just seemed appropriate.'

My drink came and I downed it, letting it burn my throat and settle my nerves.

'My father is looking at you quite quizzically,' Draco said.

'Mum's crying,' said Ron. 'But you hit the heart strings.'

'Do you think they'll listen?' I said. 'That it'll make a difference. That's what I want to achieve.'

'I suspect the Press will be more interested in the "Harry Potter: Queer" headline,' Draco said sardonically.

'I suspect you're right,' I sighed. 'Just shouting through an open door to everyone else.'

'Maybe not. There may have been those with doubts, or those struggling with loss, or trauma. You've reached us. You've reminded us it was bloody worth it,' said Ron. 'Think about what Lavender was saying and how, when we were at yours, she wasn't quite ready to accept her scars. Look at her now...'

I looked across the table. Lavender's hair was brushed back from her face, her scars on display but she looked carefree and happy. She had accepted who she was and that was the first step. I thought she looked beautiful in her dress the colour of French Lavender and her mousey hair tumbling down her back in loose curls. I watched Luna brush a tendril of her hair back and pluck a white flower from the table's centrepiece and weave it into Lavender's hair above her ear on the side of her scars. They were both laughing.

'Neville says she hasn't looked like that since long before the war,' Ron said. 'Since before the Carrows came to the school. Worse since fucking Fenrir attacked her. The first time she let go since the war was at yours but that was still in private. Your words have given her that. She won't be the only one affected by your words. Look around you.'

I felt Draco's hand on the small of my back as I looked around the room. Mr Cargador had talked about the formality of black-tie functions creating a certain tone, it was still there but there was also a buzz, an excitement, to the atmosphere. A freedom.

It was then that the band struck up the first notes of a long introduction for the first formal dance.

'Fucking Quadrilles,' I muttered.

'It's very appropriate. It's a dance about solidarity, communicating love and respect for each other. It's about demonstrating empowerment and enlightenment and if you haven't just given us that, I don't know what has. Now, get up there and go and dance with Luna. I have promised my date the first dance and it would be very remis of me to renege on that agreement.'

I smiled as I watched Draco walk around the table and bow formally before Lavender before taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor. I followed his example and Luna and I joined his square with Ron and Hermione and Neville and Hannah. I took a deep breath and we began. I managed, with more ease than I expected and without feeling clumsy.