On December 1st Hogwarts woke to find itself completely buried under nearly
a foot of snow. This was quite unexpected, as the night before, the
grounds had been frozen and brown but fully visible. It was bitterly cold,
but Harry liked everything about winter: fat wet snowflakes falling fast
from cloud-laden skies; warm rich stews in the Great Hall; hot chocolate
with Hagrid by a blazing fire in his cabin; and the dazzling white
landscapes he woke up to in the mornings, so brilliant that it was like
seeing the very sun's light trapped in a far-reaching sea. And he liked
how tranquil the world seemed during winter, with snow and ice blanketing
it all. The tall trees of the Dark Forest did not seem so sinister with
sparkling icicles hanging from their branches.
At dinner that evening, Albus Dumbledore rose to make an announcement.
"Christmas is quickly approaching," he began, "and Hogwarts would like to arrange some festivities for Christmas Eve. The older students may recall that last year's Yule Ball was a great success. The Yule Ball, however, is traditionally an event of the Triwizard Tournament. Hogwarts has therefore decided to host its own Holiday Serenade ball, which we hope will become a tradition of its own."
The Great Hall began buzzing with excitement.
At the Gryffindor table Harry's left shoulder was suddenly grasped tightly.
"Another ball?" Ron gasped. "He can't be serious!"
Then Harry's right arm was seized in an iron grip.
"I can't suffer through another ball!" Hermione wailed. "The Yule Ball was a total catastrophe!"
"Ouch, you're hurting me!" Harry cried.
"Sorry," said Ron and Hermione at the same time, and released Harry. Neither of the two ever realized the other had spoken.
"This Christmas will be a marvellous celebration beyond even the legendary Great London Revelry of 1822," Dumbledore said, and received impressed murmurs because the Great London Revelry of 1822 was indeed recognized as the grandest Christmas festival in Europe's history, when over seventeen thousand wizards in western Europe had gathered in London on Christmas Eve and had a huge citywide festival, creating bedlam throughout the streets, drinking so much they nearly made the owner of the Leaky Cauldron a millionaire, and creating some forty tonnes of paperwork for the Ministry. The date of December 25th, 1822 was historically known in the British magical community as R-Day, the Day of Recovery, commemorating the magnificent hangovers of that date.
"The ball will be only for students in fourth year and up," Dumbledore went on, and the buzzing turned disgruntled as the younger students tried to protest. He raised his hand. "Let me explain before you all start your objections. On Christmas Eve the first- to third-year students will enjoy a sumptuous Christmas tea in the afternoon here in the Great Hall. When they have finished, the hall will be redecorated for the ball in the evening. While the older students are at the ball, third-years and under will have a skating party out on the lake. Remember, if you are remaining at school over the holidays, attendance is mandatory at all of these events! After the Holiday Serenade the whole school will reunite on the terrace for a spectacular fireworks show, courtesy of Argus Filch."
Filch was standing by the teachers' table, looking surly as usual. When Dumbledore turned to smile at him Filch made a grotesque rearrangement of his grim facial features in the way of a toothy grimace, which Harry supposed must be Filch's attempt at a smile.
"It's age discrimination," Niamh Giffard said sullenly, sitting across from Harry during dinner.
"You can't even dance!" Marcus McCabe said to her.
"I would have learned, for a ball," Niamh said indignantly.
"Think of all the lovely foods there'll be at this lavish tea Dumbledore's talking about," Darius Diggle said. "Chocolate eclairs, peach sherbets, vanilla custards."
Niamh perked up. "And trifle?"
"Of course," Darius said confidently, and Niamh looked satisfied.
"Too bad Niamh can't go in my place," Hermione grumbled. "I absolutely do not want to go."
"Not even with the right partner?" Niamh chided her. Harry grinned at Ron, who stared determinedly at his goblet of iced pumpkin juice and would not meet his eye.
"Last year was a total fiasco," Hermione said to Niamh. "I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that the evening ended unpleasantly."
"Do you have to wear dress robes?" Marcus said.
Hermione brightened. "Yes, and that's the only part I liked. It was a lot of trouble getting dressed up, but for one evening we all looked so elegant, like guests at a fairy tale ball." She smiled dreamily, not at all like her regular brisk, no-nonsense self. "I wish you three could see it, it's such a formal affair and everyone looks absolutely lovely. But if it is an annual tradition, you'll get to see it for yourselves in four years."
"It sounds exquisite," sighed Niamh. "Oh, four years is such a long time!"
"Did you go, Harry?" Marcus asked. "Did you enjoy it?"
"I went, but I agree with Hermione, it was a let-down," Harry said feelingly, recalling his dreary evening. "I don't want to go again."
"Didn't you hear? Attendance is mandatory," Ron said glumly. "It's mad."
"Mandatory?" Darius repeated. "At a ball and a skating party? Why would they say that?"
"I told you, they're entirely mad," Ron said.
"Maybe they're trying to keep us under control," said Hermione. "It must be easier to supervise us when we're in contained spaces."
"Imagining conspiracies?" Niamh asked, grinning. "It's only a dance."
"Stranger things have happened," Ron said cryptically.
"And strange things may come of this," Niamh said, equally cryptic.
At dinner that evening, Albus Dumbledore rose to make an announcement.
"Christmas is quickly approaching," he began, "and Hogwarts would like to arrange some festivities for Christmas Eve. The older students may recall that last year's Yule Ball was a great success. The Yule Ball, however, is traditionally an event of the Triwizard Tournament. Hogwarts has therefore decided to host its own Holiday Serenade ball, which we hope will become a tradition of its own."
The Great Hall began buzzing with excitement.
At the Gryffindor table Harry's left shoulder was suddenly grasped tightly.
"Another ball?" Ron gasped. "He can't be serious!"
Then Harry's right arm was seized in an iron grip.
"I can't suffer through another ball!" Hermione wailed. "The Yule Ball was a total catastrophe!"
"Ouch, you're hurting me!" Harry cried.
"Sorry," said Ron and Hermione at the same time, and released Harry. Neither of the two ever realized the other had spoken.
"This Christmas will be a marvellous celebration beyond even the legendary Great London Revelry of 1822," Dumbledore said, and received impressed murmurs because the Great London Revelry of 1822 was indeed recognized as the grandest Christmas festival in Europe's history, when over seventeen thousand wizards in western Europe had gathered in London on Christmas Eve and had a huge citywide festival, creating bedlam throughout the streets, drinking so much they nearly made the owner of the Leaky Cauldron a millionaire, and creating some forty tonnes of paperwork for the Ministry. The date of December 25th, 1822 was historically known in the British magical community as R-Day, the Day of Recovery, commemorating the magnificent hangovers of that date.
"The ball will be only for students in fourth year and up," Dumbledore went on, and the buzzing turned disgruntled as the younger students tried to protest. He raised his hand. "Let me explain before you all start your objections. On Christmas Eve the first- to third-year students will enjoy a sumptuous Christmas tea in the afternoon here in the Great Hall. When they have finished, the hall will be redecorated for the ball in the evening. While the older students are at the ball, third-years and under will have a skating party out on the lake. Remember, if you are remaining at school over the holidays, attendance is mandatory at all of these events! After the Holiday Serenade the whole school will reunite on the terrace for a spectacular fireworks show, courtesy of Argus Filch."
Filch was standing by the teachers' table, looking surly as usual. When Dumbledore turned to smile at him Filch made a grotesque rearrangement of his grim facial features in the way of a toothy grimace, which Harry supposed must be Filch's attempt at a smile.
"It's age discrimination," Niamh Giffard said sullenly, sitting across from Harry during dinner.
"You can't even dance!" Marcus McCabe said to her.
"I would have learned, for a ball," Niamh said indignantly.
"Think of all the lovely foods there'll be at this lavish tea Dumbledore's talking about," Darius Diggle said. "Chocolate eclairs, peach sherbets, vanilla custards."
Niamh perked up. "And trifle?"
"Of course," Darius said confidently, and Niamh looked satisfied.
"Too bad Niamh can't go in my place," Hermione grumbled. "I absolutely do not want to go."
"Not even with the right partner?" Niamh chided her. Harry grinned at Ron, who stared determinedly at his goblet of iced pumpkin juice and would not meet his eye.
"Last year was a total fiasco," Hermione said to Niamh. "I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say that the evening ended unpleasantly."
"Do you have to wear dress robes?" Marcus said.
Hermione brightened. "Yes, and that's the only part I liked. It was a lot of trouble getting dressed up, but for one evening we all looked so elegant, like guests at a fairy tale ball." She smiled dreamily, not at all like her regular brisk, no-nonsense self. "I wish you three could see it, it's such a formal affair and everyone looks absolutely lovely. But if it is an annual tradition, you'll get to see it for yourselves in four years."
"It sounds exquisite," sighed Niamh. "Oh, four years is such a long time!"
"Did you go, Harry?" Marcus asked. "Did you enjoy it?"
"I went, but I agree with Hermione, it was a let-down," Harry said feelingly, recalling his dreary evening. "I don't want to go again."
"Didn't you hear? Attendance is mandatory," Ron said glumly. "It's mad."
"Mandatory?" Darius repeated. "At a ball and a skating party? Why would they say that?"
"I told you, they're entirely mad," Ron said.
"Maybe they're trying to keep us under control," said Hermione. "It must be easier to supervise us when we're in contained spaces."
"Imagining conspiracies?" Niamh asked, grinning. "It's only a dance."
"Stranger things have happened," Ron said cryptically.
"And strange things may come of this," Niamh said, equally cryptic.
