Chapter Forty-Five: Closure

The music was the only thing she could focus on. The music, and the arms wrapped around her waist as he twirled her around for an umpteenth time.

Happiness radiated from the crowd around them as Cordelia let out a giggle, receiving a hearty laugh as a reply as she steadied herself against Orion.

Her brother was an avid dancer, but even as his head towered over hers and feet sped far too fast for Cordelia to follow, Orion ensured they never faltered as the Black siblings danced their way through the Banquet Hall.

They could hear Ignatius collecting bets somewhere towards the left with a pesky Aurora mocking the losing parties, and Rodolphus excitedly tipping Firewhiskey into students' drinks while the professors looked the other way. Phyllis and Theodore were lost in the crowd of dancing witches, but Cordelia could hear a familiar laugh over the blaring music as they slowed to a stop.

"You need a minute?"

"Maybe five."

Orion chuckled as he escorted Cordelia past the dance floor and towards a certain gold-eyed witch surrounded by admirers.

After spending an hour on the dance floor and another being congratulated by strangers, Cordelia's body was spent and ready for a peaceful night tucked under soft blankets and a purring Nix, but the Slytherins had other ideas. She knew it was wrong to complain about attending her victory celebration, but partying through the night seemed impossible after the tiresome third task.

Thankfully, Orion always knew how to calm his sister down, and after three Vitamix potions and several attempts of the Irish jig, it was safe to say Cordelia would make it through the night.

It felt weird dancing on borrowed energy, but somewhere between being spun around the Banquet Hall and the Beauxbaton girls ambushing her with mutters of finally having a female victor, Cordelia had learnt to cope with the aftermath of her victory.

It was a simple plan; alternate between accepting well wishes and praises and dancing with friends until Madame Maxime decided it was time for bed.

At the pace she was going, it should have been easy to ignore the tantalizing whispers of sloth, but Cordelia had underestimated her ability to cope with rowdy crowds and found herself leaning against a pillar with a brazen Druella earlier than expected.

"How can Riddle land himself a girl even after that loss but I'm stuck with boring Bulgarians who can barely make it past the first word?"

Cordelia let out a genuine laugh at her cousin's complaints as they tiredly leaned against each other.

The two had swapped colours for the night with Druella sporting a black slip dress while Cordelia borrowed a gold gown, but even then she had somehow matched her outfit with Tom yet again.

Gold had never looked more flattering on a Slytherin, but the blue devil on his arm ruined the image.

Somehow even with the three schools and their professors flooding the hall, Cordelia had kept track of the Dark Lord throughout the night.

At first, she presumed her Boggart had resulted in a need to keep track of Tom and his actions, but Cordelia soon realised it wasn't fear but curiosity. After his defeat Riddle had seemed surprisingly calm and even smiled at her as Dumbledore presented Cordelia with the trophy; something that made her skin crawl and breath hitch.

If Tom Riddle was anything it was spiteful, yet here he was casually flirting with girls and avoiding Cordelia even as he remained in her line of sight. She was certain his presence would either lead to mind games or malicious warnings, but after two hours Cordelia wasn't so sure.

Could it be that the Dark Lord had truly admitted defeat?

Impossible!

"Do you want a drink, Lia?"

She let out a soft hum and watched Druella walk away for a total of five seconds before pulling the Black witch back against the pillar.

"I'll go, you stay here."

Cordelia didn't wait for a reply as she walked away from a very confused cousin and towards a pesky Dark Lord and his girl of the night.

She wasn't going to approach him, but the way Travers threw her head back and laughed at a joke that probably wasn't even funny made Cordelia's blood boil in ways she couldn't understand. It wasn't jealousy, in fact, it was far from it. It was red, hot fury.

Tom Riddle was most certainly not entitled to force her into a false courtship during the Yule only to sulk against other witches due to failure. When he felt like it, he was allowed to toy with her as he pleased with threats of courtship and becoming his Dark Lady, but the second Cordelia beat him Tom switched to random pureblood witches with tiny waists and tinier brains.

They had a weird relationship, and Cordelia was often left wondering whether she appreciated, understood, or wanted to kill Tom Riddle, but through it all, a third party had never been involved in their fights.

If she wasn't allowed to complain to Druella and Orion, Tom was certainly not allowed to involve Travers, the biggest gossip in Hogwarts.

Her spiteful glare received an amused smirk and raised eyebrows as Tom Riddle finally dragged his gaze away from the snake curled around his arm and towards the poised serpent with deadly glares and bitter frowns. It felt like he had read her mind, and Cordelia had half a mind to storm towards the other side of the drinks table and wipe away his amused facade, but a boy clad in blue robes had other ideas.

Cordelia thought she would never have to face Antoine Ravenport again for the rest of her stay, much less dance with him, but fate had a funny way of proving her wrong.

"This song's one of my favourites."

"Sod off, Ravenport."

A Beauxbaton eavesdropper snorted at Cordelia's reply and let a giggle slip as she walked away from the duo, leaving Cordelia at the mercy of a pesky half-brother she never wanted to see again.

"Peter Wilder wasn't that bad of a cleaner, you know?"

Annoyance was replaced with alarm as Cordelia casually leaned against the table and wondered whether she could get away with hexing Antoine. Unfortunately, too many eyes were following the Triwizard champion and with too many people looking for excuses to ruin her night, the Triwizard champion had to rely on her silver tongue.

"Triwizard champions have no business talking to helpers."

"I never mentioned his occupation."

After several hours of fighting creatures and dancing with snakes, Cordelia was too tired to respond with witty taunts and detestable sneers, but Peter Wilder was the one crime that could ruin her life forever, and the boy before her had no intention of saving her.

"I don't know what you're playing at, Ravenport, but if you think Hogwarts will let you defame its champion, you're insane."

In a way what she said was true. The majority of Hogwarts might have it out for her but they treasured the Triwizard Cup too much to risk a divided front against the French, that was evident in the way the Gryffindors offered snakes drinks of truces for the night.

Even the Beauxbaton girls had congratulated Cordelia as they excitedly whispered about her impact on the feminist movement, and Magnus's friendship, of sorts, ensured Dumstrang wouldn't be too quick to rush to conclusions.

Cordelia didn't need mass crowds of supporters to clear her name, but it sure helped strike fear in the boy before her.

"Stay away from me, Ravenport."

By the time Antoine formed a response she was on her way back to Druella and comfortably tucked away between her reunited gang of snakes.

Even as her friends excitedly chattered away, Cordelia couldn't help but once again turn towards a certain Dark Lord void of any pesky witches. He didn't bother with explanations, but the way Tom smirked at and raised his glass towards Cordelia made her smile lightly as she watched the Dark Lord walk away.

There was a time when having peace and happiness was all she wanted and with one obstacle conquered, Cordelia finally had that and more. Things hadn't turned out how she thought they would, and winning the Triwizard Tournament certainly didn't mean conquering all her fears and fixing everything, but it changed Cordelia for the better and helped her remember herself.

Everything wasn't perfect, in fact, it was far from it, but at that moment it was exactly what she needed.

And that was good enough.