Chapter 17.5- Doom Days

I took a breath and allowed magic to effuse every fiber of my being as I prepared the spells I was about to unleash. Sirius had been a prankster and womanizer of legendary renown back in his day. That meant he had bits of magic just waiting to be adapted to whatever situation he had to adapt it to. What I was about to use was one of those bits of magic- except scalded up suitably. I walked further into the hall making a beeline for the Ravenclaw table where I could see her sitting with her friends. Her eyes met mine and I spotted the small smile that began to build on her lips. When I reached the table, I jabbed my wand at the end of the table and subvocalized a single word, Orchideous, even as I visualized a unique outcome.

Flowers began to build and encircle the table as they began to spread. Jabbing my wand into the table again, I commanded another set of flowers to begin to grow from the other end. Circular wreaths of flowers formed along the tables edges as they began to travel towards the center where Fleur was seated almost as one. I cleared my mind with practiced ease and began preparing the next spell in this series.

XXXXXX- HERMIONE GRANGER

Well, she had to say she didn’t see this one coming at all, She thought to herself as she watched with stilled breath as Harry worked his magic. She’d asked if he was taken Fleur and when he had said he wouldn’t be, she believed him. But now she was forced to wonder whether he had changed his mind or if he had just lied to her. She couldn’t see any logical reason for him to lie but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t. It just made it more likely in her opinion that he had changed his mind.

He waved his wand once more and the flowers that were growing around the Ravenclaw table and surely disturbing most of the house’s dinner grew at a faster pace before stretching towards the French witch in a bouquet of Roses, red and white, spread in equal amounts. That might have been sufficient for anyone else, but clearly not her best friend as he pointed his wand at the ceiling next. Charmed to resemble the Night’s sky at night, the ceiling had been charmed into a standard sunny, if slightly overcast day.

The bolt of red light that left Harry’s wand dug into the clouds for a few seconds before forcing the clouds to begin to shift. She, and the rest of the hall it seemed, watched on awestruck as the very clouds in the ceiling’s replica of the sky shifted to spell out a single message; Fleur Delacour, Will you accompany me to the Yule Ball?’