Chpt16: 'Tis the Season.
".Yule Ball."
The word rang out through her subconscious, drawing her back to Dumbledore's speech.
Shifting so suddenly from the joys of "Arithmancy Made Simple", her newest book, to the disastrous implications of a Yule Ball was not to be considered a particularly pleasant experience.
"I will expect everyone to take part," he eyed the crowd, his gaze settling fractionally on particular students so that they, and only they, knew that he was referring to them.
He then turned, eyes twinkled away in that irritating manner, and smiled down at his fellow colleagues, "Students and teachers alike."
Up at the High Table, Severus Snape was rearranging his cutlery, refusing to meet the old man's gaze.
~*~*~*~ // That bloody irrational fool of a man! //
He shifted his fork to the left, ignoring that oh so convenient - for Dumbledore - urge that he suddenly had to look up at. One of his many tricks.
// I won't look at you, old man, I won't. You may be able to make me come to this pathetic little Ball, but you can't make me look at you. //
Once again, he moved his desert spoon until he was completely sure that it was exactly parallel to the edge of the table in front of him, forming a perfect 90° angle with the rest of the cutlery at either side of him.
After a while, he lifted the knife up and polished it slightly with the sleeve of his robes, feeling the cold metal, smooth between his fingers.
He'd had a fascination for knives, once upon a time.
He shuddered and put it down; scars don't last very long in the Wizarding world.not the physical ones, anyway.
Glancing up hastily, and avoiding Dumbledore's returning gaze, he scanned the four tables before him.
It was pitiful how the slightest whiff of a school dance could produce such moronic grins on the faces of even the most competent pupils.
~*~*~*~
But how mistaken he was.
At Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger had never felt so detached in her life. A Ball.
A Ball with dancing and. dates.
Glancing up to the High Table longingly, she watched as Snape continued to fidget, a sleek silver knife disappearing into his sleeve as an imaginary speck of dust was wiped away.
// Why is life so complicated?! Does it do this just to torment me?! // She knew who she would want as her date.
She knew that the night would be empty if she had to dance with anyone but him.
She knew that if they could sway to the sweet melodies of a waltz or a smooth jazzy number, that all would be right in the world.
She knew that he would be a fantastic dancer, but most of all, she knew that it would never happen.
Shaking her head, she concentrated her mind on moving her gaze up and across towards safe territory; Dumbledore.
"The Ball will take place on Tuesday 24th of December and will continue into Wednesday morning." He paused, a mischievous smile forming on his lips, and Hermione had a feeling that that wasn't the worst of it.
"The theme of this year's ball will be that of a medieval masquerade, and everyone will be expected to dress up and unveil their identities at twelve o'clock exactly."
The undercurrent of mutterings that had begun with his announcement of a Ball peaked at this latest news, and Dumbledore waited until the chatter had subdued, his eyes sparkling more than ever.
"I hope that everyone is able to attend and join in the festivities, but until then, choose your costumes well! Now everyone, eat up!"
With that, the great platters that lined the tables were magically replenished with mounds of food that overflowed onto the sides.
From every corner of the hall, the same words could be heard in the students' excitable undertones; ".Yule Ball."
Eyes wide, she looked across to Harry and Ron. The two boys were whispering to each other, their heads bent in concentration as they blocked the world's ears out. Continuing to watch them, Hermione noticed how occasionally one would raise their head and furtively glance up.
When Harry did it, she mused, he was clearly looking towards the Ravenclaw table.
Cho Chang.
// Some things never change.// she thought, trying not to recall painful memories of the Triwizard Tournament.
Ron however, had only looked up twice, both times to jerk his gaze back towards his feet with lightning speed.
Why?
// God, no. //
Both times, Hermione's inquisitive eyes had been met by his, and a fraction of a second later, he had blushed and looked away.
Hermione didn't want to bear to think of the implications of this. Instead, she stood up, gripping the book tightly, and smiling slightly at the boys as they registered the movement to indicate her impending departure.
Beside her, Ginny Weasley also stood.
"You going back to the common room?"
"Yeah." She nodded, "I'm not very hungry."
Ginny smiled and looked across the table to where Harry and Ron were still muttering to themselves, scheming how to get their dates to say yes.
"Yup," she smiled back at Hermione again, "I guess I lost my appetite too."
In silent understanding, both girls passed out of the Great Hall.
".Yule Ball."
The word rang out through her subconscious, drawing her back to Dumbledore's speech.
Shifting so suddenly from the joys of "Arithmancy Made Simple", her newest book, to the disastrous implications of a Yule Ball was not to be considered a particularly pleasant experience.
"I will expect everyone to take part," he eyed the crowd, his gaze settling fractionally on particular students so that they, and only they, knew that he was referring to them.
He then turned, eyes twinkled away in that irritating manner, and smiled down at his fellow colleagues, "Students and teachers alike."
Up at the High Table, Severus Snape was rearranging his cutlery, refusing to meet the old man's gaze.
~*~*~*~ // That bloody irrational fool of a man! //
He shifted his fork to the left, ignoring that oh so convenient - for Dumbledore - urge that he suddenly had to look up at. One of his many tricks.
// I won't look at you, old man, I won't. You may be able to make me come to this pathetic little Ball, but you can't make me look at you. //
Once again, he moved his desert spoon until he was completely sure that it was exactly parallel to the edge of the table in front of him, forming a perfect 90° angle with the rest of the cutlery at either side of him.
After a while, he lifted the knife up and polished it slightly with the sleeve of his robes, feeling the cold metal, smooth between his fingers.
He'd had a fascination for knives, once upon a time.
He shuddered and put it down; scars don't last very long in the Wizarding world.not the physical ones, anyway.
Glancing up hastily, and avoiding Dumbledore's returning gaze, he scanned the four tables before him.
It was pitiful how the slightest whiff of a school dance could produce such moronic grins on the faces of even the most competent pupils.
~*~*~*~
But how mistaken he was.
At Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger had never felt so detached in her life. A Ball.
A Ball with dancing and. dates.
Glancing up to the High Table longingly, she watched as Snape continued to fidget, a sleek silver knife disappearing into his sleeve as an imaginary speck of dust was wiped away.
// Why is life so complicated?! Does it do this just to torment me?! // She knew who she would want as her date.
She knew that the night would be empty if she had to dance with anyone but him.
She knew that if they could sway to the sweet melodies of a waltz or a smooth jazzy number, that all would be right in the world.
She knew that he would be a fantastic dancer, but most of all, she knew that it would never happen.
Shaking her head, she concentrated her mind on moving her gaze up and across towards safe territory; Dumbledore.
"The Ball will take place on Tuesday 24th of December and will continue into Wednesday morning." He paused, a mischievous smile forming on his lips, and Hermione had a feeling that that wasn't the worst of it.
"The theme of this year's ball will be that of a medieval masquerade, and everyone will be expected to dress up and unveil their identities at twelve o'clock exactly."
The undercurrent of mutterings that had begun with his announcement of a Ball peaked at this latest news, and Dumbledore waited until the chatter had subdued, his eyes sparkling more than ever.
"I hope that everyone is able to attend and join in the festivities, but until then, choose your costumes well! Now everyone, eat up!"
With that, the great platters that lined the tables were magically replenished with mounds of food that overflowed onto the sides.
From every corner of the hall, the same words could be heard in the students' excitable undertones; ".Yule Ball."
Eyes wide, she looked across to Harry and Ron. The two boys were whispering to each other, their heads bent in concentration as they blocked the world's ears out. Continuing to watch them, Hermione noticed how occasionally one would raise their head and furtively glance up.
When Harry did it, she mused, he was clearly looking towards the Ravenclaw table.
Cho Chang.
// Some things never change.// she thought, trying not to recall painful memories of the Triwizard Tournament.
Ron however, had only looked up twice, both times to jerk his gaze back towards his feet with lightning speed.
Why?
// God, no. //
Both times, Hermione's inquisitive eyes had been met by his, and a fraction of a second later, he had blushed and looked away.
Hermione didn't want to bear to think of the implications of this. Instead, she stood up, gripping the book tightly, and smiling slightly at the boys as they registered the movement to indicate her impending departure.
Beside her, Ginny Weasley also stood.
"You going back to the common room?"
"Yeah." She nodded, "I'm not very hungry."
Ginny smiled and looked across the table to where Harry and Ron were still muttering to themselves, scheming how to get their dates to say yes.
"Yup," she smiled back at Hermione again, "I guess I lost my appetite too."
In silent understanding, both girls passed out of the Great Hall.