Chapter Eleven: Mystery Dates

Excitement for the dance was growing as it was only a week away, and girls were beginning to stress over getting a cute date. A few fights had even broken out between girls who wanted a certain guy.

I was worrying over who I would take. I didn't want to turn up by myself, and yet I couldn't see myself asking anyone. There was no one who I liked especially, and no one who I liked as a friend who I thought would go with me.

Plus, I was worried about my kettle. He was still acting strange, and he grew oddly silent whenever someone entered the room. All in all, he was acting like a moody teenager. Which got me wondering, how "old" was he? Did spells have ages? It was very confusing.

I was asking Hermione about it in the great hall at breakfast when Lavender stalked over and sat next to me, her face set in a grimace.

'What's the matter?' I asked. She sniffed slightly and looked like she was going to burst into tears.

'I had a fight with Pavarti,' she sniffed.

'About what?' Hermione asked tentatively. I put my arm around her shoulder in a comforting gesture.

'She, she wanted to ask Harry to the dance, but I'd already told her I wanted to. She said we could both do it, and I said that was stupid, and that, that I definitely liked him more anyway. And then she said,' Lavender's voice choked with a sob, 'she said there was no way he'd ever go with me anyway, and I said, I said-'

'Hey, shhh,' I said, giving her a proper hug as she started to cry.

'But I said some horrible things, and I didn't mean them, but she said horrible things too, and I bet Harry wouldn't go with either of us anyway,' she sobbed quietly.

The situation was not uncommon nowadays. The whole female population had gone slightly insane, arguing over dresses and boys.

When Hermione, Harry, Ron and I arrived at potions, everyone was whispering. Snape had yet to arrive, and when he did he hushed all sound and tried to start the lesson.

The whispering itself wasn't the strange thing, but there was an almost charged feeling in the classroom as students passed notes and fidgeted.

Eventually we found out what it was by asking Pavarti. It turns out Millicent Bullstrode and Pansy Parkinson, two Slytherins in our year, had gotten into a gigantous fight over who got to go to the dance with Malfoy. Apparently there had been wands drawn, and both girls had ended up in the hospital wing.

Talk was, the teachers had had just about enough and were thinking about calling off the whole dance.

Malfoy, of course, was sitting up the back of the class, his smug look smuggier than usual.

'Arse,' I whispered to myself.

'They're insane,' Hermione whispered to me. 'Who would fight to go to a dance with Malfoy of all people?'

At the end of Potions, we were instructed to go to the great hall instead of our next class.

'Do you reckon they're going to call the ball off?' Lavender asked nervously as we sat at the Gryffindor table.

'Students!' McGonagall called for silence. 'There is a very grave issue we need to talk about today. Two students have been sent to the hospital wing, because of a fight over a boy.'

There were gasps around the hall from the students who didn't already know. The Slytherins started to snigger.

'There was a debate, as to whether the whole affair should be called off or not,' McGonagall continued, 'and we decided it wouldn't. But-'

Her words, however, were drowned out by a sudden cheer from the students. I found myself cheering as well. It would be my first wizarding occasion, after all. The roar rose to an ear-splitting level, until we were silenced with a loud boom.

'But,' McGonagall said firmly, once the noise had died down. 'Because this has happened a couple of times now, and we don't wish to have any more of it, the student's dates shall be chosen instead by a lot.'

There was a stunned silence for a few moments. And then a confused muttering broke out. How did they have the right to do this? How did this solve anything? What about the people who had already chosen dates?

'Students who wish to attend the dance will sign their name on the form up here.' Dumbledore said, suddenly standing up and gesturing to a pedestal with a long piece of parchment on it. 'If your name is not there, you will not be allowed in to the ball, nor will you be paired with anyone. You are all dismissed now, to go to your classes.'

The air in the school was almost mutinous now. Grumbling students wandered everywhere. Strangely enough, the mood didn't last. Soon, most people were looking forward to who their random partner would be.

I was extremely glad of it. This solved my problem of who to ask. I signed my name up after Hermione, and helped her encourage Ron and Harry to do so too.

'You know Dumbledore Harry, he's not going to put us with people we absolutely hate, is he?' Hermione soothed. 'So we'll most likely get put with our "perfect matches" or something!'

So, with that argument presented, Ron and Harry both reluctantly signed away their bachelorhood.

--

The rest of the week passed. The festive feeling increased, as did the excitement of the mystery dates. The morn of the 31st came, and at breakfast each student who had signed the petition had an envelope on their desk. It wasn't surprising to find that almost all of the students had signed up.

I stared at my envelope, unwilling to open it. Whose name was written inside it?

'Come on Lark,' Hermione said, 'let's open them together.'

I nodded nervously. What if the person was horrified at the thought of having to go with me? I shuddered.

'Alright. Let's do this,' I said determinedly. I could always just laugh about it with him anyway. It wasn't like I'd get someone super detestable.

'Oh no!' came a cry from across the table. I looked up to see Neville, his face white with fear. 'I got Pansy Parkinson!'

'Oh god,' I whispered, also turning white. 'But that means we can get partnered with anyone!' For some reason I'd assumed it'd still be someone from Gryffindor, or maybe from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, but who on earth wanted to date a Slytherin?!

I stared at the envelope with a new dread.

'Just open it!' Ron demanded impatiently, watching Hermione and I. She looked at the envelope in his hands, confused.

'But Ron, you haven't opened yours-'

'Do it!' he snapped.

Slowly I broke the seal and pulled up the flap. I reached into the envelope and pulled out the slip of paper, turning it over so I could see the name. My heart stopped and my face fell. Of all the people to get!

'Oh no,' I breathed, 'Hermione. It's my worst nightmare.'


Author's Note:

Cliqued, yes? xD AGAIN! Or not. There is a twist :P

It's slightly annoying, 'cause these chapters already seem really 'old' and badly written to me, and it seems the story is taking the wrong turns and such. Oh well. We'll get there in the end :D

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed me, by the way! I really appreciate it, and the little messages make me feel more like writing. Usually I would have stopped the story by now, I have trouble finishing things I've started.