Trick or Treat

Halloween was never a happy holiday for Harry. While some people anticipated the chilly nip of autumn, to Harry, the cold felt bleak and dead. While others thrilled at the crunch of fallen leaves under their feet, Harry became agitated by the noise, the sound harsh and threatening to his ears. The whole idea that on this one night every year, spirits rose from their graves and came back to walk among the living sent shivers up Harry's spine. He wanted to snuggle up close to the fire and imagine better days, filled with warmth and sunshine, when the air outside was breathable again. The cold air of October was never breathable; it was filled with the scent of rotting foliage and of the coming winter, reminding him that many of the people important to him were buried in the frozen, hard earth.

During this particular Halloween, however, he was distracted. By the time the sun set for the evening, he had forgotten most of his nagging worries and had started to become eager for the night to begin. With a sense of giddy anticipation making his heart beat against his chest, Harry entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween Dance raged.

He turned to Ron next to him, who was dressed in all green as a leprechaun. "How funny is it going to be when Malfoy gets here?" Harry asked, grinning broadly.

"Pretty fucking hilarious," Ron nodded enthusiastically. "Do you reckon he'll really go through with it, though?"

"Well, he better had!" Harry exclaimed, raising his brows in emphasis. "I caught the snitch fair and square. If he didn't want to wear it, he shouldn't have lost."

"Well said! But you know Malfoy, he could find a way to wriggle out of it."

Harry doubted it; Malfoy had sworn to keep his part of the bargain. Too many people had witnessed both their bet and their impending Seeker's Game, braving the cold with gloves and scarves so they could cheer on. Harry reflected that, for once in their lives, Malfoy's friends and his friends stood side by side, mingling together in a single group as they shared the neutral ground of the Hufflepuff stand. The whole thing was a challenge disguised as a truce, and it everyone knew it. If Malfoy back out on the bet, he'd be breaking something unspoken and fragile.

Harry himself was dressed as a Muggle businessman, in a tailored black suit and red tie. The soft wool of the charcoal grey fabric felt nice against his skin; he was not accustomed to wearing expensive clothing, but he could now afford it. When he was at Hogsmeade earlier in the day purchasing his outfit, he had debated also buying a top hat and cane. After better consideration, he realized that not many of his Wizarding classmates would pick up on the reference to a gangster, so it would only inspire confused looks. Also, Ron had mentioned that his carrying a cane would be creepy, because it reminded him of Lucius Malfoy. After that comment, Harry had gagged a little bit, and then he dropped the idea immediately.

"If he shows up here in anything but a girl's uniform, I will personally drag his snooty arse back to the dungeons."

Ron laughed, but his eyes looked soft and thoughtful. "He hasn't been all that snooty this year. Haven't you noticed?"

Harry raised his brows. "Are you actually defending Malfoy? Is the world coming to an end?"

"I'm not defending him!" Ron said, raising his hands with his palms out. "I still think he's a ferrety git. But you have to admit, he has been a lot less git-like since being allowed back."

Despite himself, Harry could not help shrugging a shoulder in grudging agreement. "I suppose so. He's probably been trying to look grateful. As he should!" he added more forcefully.

Hermione trotted over to them from the refreshment table, weaving her way through the mass of people in ridiculous costumes. She carried one glass of bright red punch in her hand, two others floating closely. Along with them, her wavy hair bounced behind her, out of which stuck two black, furry ears. She also had three black lines painted onto each of her cheeks, like whiskers.