A/N: Okay, here we have a little bit of Remus/Celeste fluff, a big, fancy party, and an evil cliffhanger. This chapter wanders around a bit, I'll admit, but I was having a lot of fun writing it, and most people don't really seem to mind. More isn't always better, but I hope you all have fun reading. Oh, and about the cliffhanger… Don't despair. I'll update again very soon. I have a strong desire to put an author's note containing an evil laugh at the end of the chapter, but I'm resisting.
Jedi Buttercup: I think Snape is totally biased on the subject of Slytherin. Sometimes he has Machiavellian tendencies – "the ends justify the means" sort of thing.
chuckleseviltroll312: Thanks for the great compliments! As for action… we've got some tense scenes coming up in the next chapter. (Yes, really the next chapter this time.)
Danae: Here's a bit of fluff. It's not overpowering – Remus and Celeste are not what Harry's focus is on - but we'll get some more in the next chapter.
Chapter 29: The Ministry Gala
Harry's night in the hospital wing was quiet and peaceful, but the rising sun brought new trials and tribulations. Crabbe and Goyle finally came to at dawn, and they were instantly at their archrivals' throats. They crowed over the fact that Malfoy had finally caught the Snitch but became downright vicious when they learned that Slytherin had lost the match – by ten points, no less. At first it had looked like Madam Pomfrey was going to try and detain them further, but all six patients were soon fighting like wet cats in a barrel. In the end the matron couldn't get rid of them fast enough.
"OUT, all of you!" she shouted, fairly pushing them out the door. "And tell your Houses that I'm turning away anyone who isn't half-dead!"
The Gryffindors glared at the Slytherins one last time before they parted ways. "I'll say one thing for Crabbe and Goyle," Alicia grumbled. "If it weren't for them, we'd still be sitting in bed."
They rounded the corner and found themselves in the entrance hall. It was full of students in their cloaks and striped scarves, waiting to leave for Hogsmeade.
"Harry! Ron!" called Hermione, waving at them from across the hall. "Hurry up and get your stuff, you'll miss it!"
Harry, Ron, Angelina, and Alicia took off for Gryffindor Tower at a dead run. Angelina and Alicia muttered the whole way about how they couldn't afford to be late, as they both needed to buy new gowns. They skidded to a halt in front of the Fat Lady.
"Password?" the Fat Lady said regally.
"Slytherin Stinks," said Ron. "And be quick about it, we're late!"
"Sorry," said the Fat Lady. "That is not the password. Punctuality is a virtue, you know – perhaps you should have left earlier."
"Aaugh!" said Angelina. "They changed it without telling us?"
"Someone go get a Gryffindor!" cried Alicia.
"Malfoy Is A Slimy Git," said Hermione's voice behind them.
"That's the one," said the Fat Lady, and the portrait swung open. Angelina and Alicia hurtled inside.
"The others have gone, but Professor Thornby stayed behind to wait for us," said Hermione, impatiently shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Oh, will you please hurry? Gladrags is going to be so busy, I'm never going to be able to find a dress!"
Harry and Ron obliged, and soon they were all hurrying back down to the Great Hall, flogged along by Angelina and Alicia's complaints. Professor Thornby was there waiting just as Hermione had said, wrapped in a traveling cloak. They set off from the castle as quickly as they could go. Angelina and Alicia would have run the whole way, but Professor Thornby wouldn't allow it. "We're not far behind," she said. "You can take off when we're in sight of the village."
"Great password, by the way, but couldn't someone have told us?" said Alicia.
"It's in Harry's honor, really," said Hermione. "Not that everyone didn't despise what happened to all of you, but Malfoy was just so nasty. Oh, and Madam Hooch awarded Gryffindor an extra hundred points."
Angelina laughed aloud. "The Slytherins will be walking small once Snape gets through with them!"
They finally rounded a bend in the path and saw the first building in the distance. Angelina and Alicia gave Professor Thornby imploring looks. "Go on, then," she said, and the two seventh years took off running.
Hermione looked as if dignity alone was keeping her from following. "I'll never get into Gladrags now," she sighed.
"Well, I may have a solution for you," said Professor Thornby. "Buy a bolt of the fabric you like, and the house-elves and I can make your dress at Alverbrooke."
"Oh, really?" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes shining.
"Really," said Professor Thornby. "I'm going to pick out fabric for my dress, too. Making two outfits won't be any problem. Magic makes so many things faster. You don't need to worry about dress robes either, Harry. I've taken the liberty of ordering something for you ahead of time. You've been specially invited as one of the greatest wizards of modern times, so you need something new."
When Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived in the village, they soon saw that Hermione had been right – Gladrags was a nightmare. There were students lined up outside waiting to enter, but Hermione wasn't interested in trying things on and was able to walk right inside. A short time later she came out with a large brown package. Though Harry and Ron pressed her, she refused to say what color she'd bought. With their only errand finished, the three of them were able to spend the rest of the afternoon at the Three Broomsticks, drinking butterbeer and rehashing the Quidditch match.
That evening the first of many special sessions of the Dueling Club was held. When it became known that the professors were giving dancing lessons, every student who was attending the Gala showed up. Harry found himself going over the basics again, but as the days passed, they learned more steps and different dances. Harry had only to see a step done once before he could do it himself. At first he worried that dancing was going to make him look... well, girlish... but he soon realized that there were several other boys who already knew what they were doing. He looked around at the other students when he was practicing with Hermione; some of the boys looked purely envious, and several of the girls did, too. Harry quickly saw that Bellaton had been right; Hermione followed his directions with ease although she was a novice. It wasn't long before students were stopping Harry and the other more accomplished dancers between classes, asking for pointers.
The week of the Gala began, and Dumbledore announced that they would all have that Thursday and Friday off. Since most of the staff was going to the event, the students would be taking the Hogwarts Express back to Kings Cross for the weekend. This managed to lift even the spirits of the students who were not attending the party.
No one got much done that week. Students and professors alike clearly had their minds on other things. Even Hermione was completely distracted by the upcoming ball; one day she completely fudged her Sleeping Draught in Potions and nearly lost a finger to a Snapdragon in Herbology. Normally this would have been a shocking event, but since there were so many other students in the same position, it caused hardly a ripple.
Thursday finally arrived and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The teachers were sick of their listless students and the students were tired of their tightly wound teachers. The atmosphere on the train back to Kings Cross was festive. Students were up and down the corridors between the cars, giddy in their excitement. Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent most of their time in their own compartment, though, as Ron had asked Harry for some help with dancing. Hermione performed a clever little Reduction Charm and the seats shrank up against the wall, leaving a good deal more room for practice. Ron wasn't half bad at leading, but Hermione was used to Harry's superior ability, and she wasn't picking up on Ron's more subtle signals. Unfortunately Ron did not take direction well, and Harry was still figuring out exactly how he did what he did, so all three of them were very grumpy by the time the train pulled into the station.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione disembarked to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley waiting for them. "Oh, there you are, dears!" cried Mrs. Weasley, pulling them all into one embrace. "Welcome home, welcome home! Fred, George, I do hope you've something suitable to wear –"
"Taste is subjective, mum."
"- and Ginny, dear, I'm not sure what you've got. Do you need to go shopping?"
"No, mum, Fred and George bought me a gown!"
"Did they?" said Mrs. Weasley, turning a suspicious eye on the twins. "And where, pray tell, did they get the money?"
"We've been saving up our allowance," Fred said glibly. "It's an early birthday present."
"Ginny's birthday is in May," said Mrs. Weasley.
"We've already got our own dress robes, mum, and I think you'll find them quite suitable," said George.
"And where did you get them?" Mrs. Weasley continued.
"Oh, don't worry about it, Molly," Mr. Weasley said congenially. "Let's get outside – the Grangers are waiting, and I believe your uncle is too, Harry."
True enough, the Grangers were there, and they swept Hermione up into a hug as soon as she appeared. Professor Thornby was standing a good distance away, disguised as Vernon Dursley. "See you at the Gala!" Harry said as she beckoned to him. He knew that it must have seemed a bit rude, but Fred and George were eyeing Professor Thornby critically, and Harry wasn't sure he could evade their questions much longer.
Just as they had last time, Harry and his guardian took a Portkey back to Alverbrooke, but this time they appeared right in the breakfast room.
"Harry!" said Sirius, jumping up from one of the wicker chairs. He wrapped his godson up in a quick bear hug. "You look taller."
Harry laughed. "I don't know, am I?"
"You are taller – your robes are a bit short," said Sirius.
"Welcome back, Harry!" said Lupin, walking into the room.
"Hello, Remus," Harry grinned. "Are you coming to the Gala?"
"I'm his date," said Lupin, pointing at the Dursleyfied Professor Thornby.
"What, no kiss?" said Professor Thornby, making puppy dog eyes. Harry burst out laughing; the expression looked ridiculous on his uncle's face.
"Maybe later," said Lupin with a smile.
"I'm going too, you know," said Sirius.
Harry's jaw dropped. "How?"
"On Saturday I shall be Lysander Bucklethwaite, one of Dumbledore's old friends," said Sirius. "He didn't want to go anyway, so Dumbledore made the arrangements. Aaah, I've been stuck in this house ever since the manhunt resumed. It's not a bad place to be stuck, mind you, and they've been keeping me busy, but still. I can't wait to get out of here."
"So this guy knows about you?" said Harry.
Sirius and Lupin exchanged glances. "Yes," said Sirius.
"How does he know?"
"Sorry, can't tell you that."
Harry frowned. "Why not?"
"Look, Harry," said Lupin. "I think Dumbledore is planning on letting you in on some things pretty soon, but he hasn't given us the go-ahead. Things are pretty dicey just now, so take our word for it. We'd tell you if we could."
Harry sighed. "All right."
Professor Thornby suddenly shrieked. The three men looked up to see her back to her old self, wrapped tightly in her traveling cloak from the neck down. Her head and feet were just about the only things visible, and a pair of enormous trousers lay in a puddle around her ankles. "For heaven's sake, turn your backs! What kind of gentlemen are you?" she gasped. "That's the second time this has happened..." Harry and Sirius turned around, sniggering, but Lupin's face looked like the sunset. Professor Thornby left the room, muttering something about Bellaton having to do it next time.
**********
On Saturday evening, Harry found himself sitting on a sofa in the foyer, waiting for Hermione to come down. Bellaton had gone to fetch her from her parents' house in the early afternoon. She had barely said hello to Harry before vanishing upstairs with Professor Thornby. Harry didn't understand how it could take her hours to get ready; it had taken him less than one. He had bathed, dressed, and fixed his hair. What else did a girl have to do? Well, Hermione does have a lot more hair than I do, he thought.
Harry glanced at himself in a mirror that hung above an end table. His hair was lying neatly against his head instead of sticking up ever which way. Professor Thornby had given him a bottle of some unknown substance and told him to shampoo with it; whatever it was, it had done the trick. He was dressed in the Muggle tuxedo that his guardian had acquired for him. "They're a bit of a fashion craze in the magical world right now," Professor Thornby had said. "I think we'll see quite a lot of them tonight."
"Not bad, old chap," said Sirius, walking in. "You clean up very nicely."
"Lysander Bucklethwaite looks an awful lot like Sirius Black," said Harry.
Sirius held up a glass of bluish sludge. "Not for long," he said, grinning roguishly. He held up a leather flask in his other hand. "I've got enough to last the night in here."
Lupin and Bellaton wandered into the foyer behind Sirius. Bellaton was grimacing and massaging his throat while Lupin nervously tapped a corsage of white flowers and green leaves against his palm. Harry looked down at his own offering; it was a little spray of purplish flowers.
"Settle down, Moony," said Sirius. "You look smashing. I'm sure she'll be duly impressed."
"You would think that someone my age wouldn't be quite so anxious," said Lupin.
There was a creak on the stairs above, and the four of them looked up. Hermione was coming down the stairs, a shy smile on her face. Harry's mouth fell open slightly. He had never really thought about it before, but Hermione was growing up to be quite beautiful. She was all in soft blue, and she'd done something new to her hair. Instead of being frizzy, it was soft and wavy. She had done it up behind her head, and there were little blue flowers stuck in everywhere.
"Wow," said Harry when she reached the bottom of the staircase. "You look… you look great."
"Quite charming, Miss Granger," Bellaton said hoarsely.
"Thank you," said Hermione, blushing prettily. "Are you feeling all right?"
"Sore throat," said Bellaton, clearing it a few times. "It will pass."
"Um, here," said Harry. He held out the corsage.
"You're supposed to pin it on her," said Sirius.
"Oh. Right." Harry fumbled around with the flowers, trying to pin them to Hermione's dress somehow. For some reason he felt quite unwilling to let his fingers touch her skin, even though it was just beneath her shoulder blade. It was very hard to get the straight pin through the fabric of her dress without doing so.
"Ouch!" said Hermione, flinching away.
Harry turned red. He'd stuck her with the pin. "Er, sorry," he said. "Maybe if I –"
Hermione laughed, and some of Harry's tension melted away. "Here, let me." She deftly pinned the corsage to her dress. "There. Now it's your turn."
"What?"
Hermione held out a red rosebud. "Your boutonniere, silly," she said, taking hold of his lapel.
"Are we all ready to go?" said Professor Thornby from the top of the stairs.
If Hermione was a budding beauty, Harry's guardian was in full bloom. She looked very elegant indeed in royal blue with her hair up.
"Close your mouth, Moony," Sirius whispered. Lupin closed it, but his eyes continued to drink her in.
Professor Thornby reached the bottom of the staircase and took Lupin's hand. "Remus. You look very handsome."
"So do you," said Lupin, and everyone laughed. Lupin smiled and flushed a bit. "I mean – you look lovely." His eyes widened when they fell on her jewelry. "You wore them!"
"I bought the fabric to match," she said.
"Moony," said Sirius, peering at the necklace and earrings, "those look an awful lot like –"
"They are," said Lupin, drawing himself up as if he expected an attack.
"I wish I had fancy jewels to give away to women," said Sirius. "If I did, I might not be a wanted man." Lupin relaxed visibly.
Bellaton pulled a pocketwatch from his coat. "It's getting late," he said. "We'd better go."
Sirius drank his potion while Lupin and Professor Thornby exchanged their own bunches of flowers. In moments he had transformed into an older man with a short gray beard and sharp blue eyes. Sirius winked at Harry. "No one will be the wiser. Let's get out of here!"
Lupin offered Professor Thornby his arm, and she took it. Harry and Hermione grinned at each other when Harry did the same.
"You two are going by Portkey," said Bellaton, clearing his throat again. He handed Harry a small box. Harry opened it to see a large brass key inside.
"Port-key," said Harry, grinning.
"It's a bit literal, yes. The Ministry does things very formally for this event," said Bellaton. "The rest of us will Apparate. I'll go first, then you two come, and the others will follow. Remember, we're not together after this."
"Right," said Harry, and Bellaton disappeared with a little pop.
"Have fun," said Professor Thornby. She and Lupin were smiling at them, their fingers already laced together.
"We will," Harry and Hermione chorused, and they touched the brass key together.
Harry felt a familiar jerk behind his navel and the world began to rush forward. His finger felt cemented to the key; it was the only thing between safety and spinning off into oblivion.
Moments later the rushing stopped. Harry opened his eyes and blinked around at what he saw. Next to him, Hermione gasped aloud.
They were standing in a huge, lavishly decorated room with people appearing all around them. Light was provided by three enormous crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The floor beneath their feet was marble. There was a large staircase on either side of the room with an elaborately carved wooden banister; it led up to a balcony above where dozens of glittering people were standing in a line. Behind them were several heavy wooden doors that had been thrown wide open; through them they could see into the adjoining room. There were hundreds of people swarming about the floor, dressed in every color of the rainbow. The air was full of voices, but they could hear the faint sounds of stringed instruments wafting over it all.
"Oh my," breathed Hermione.
"You said it," said Harry.
"'Arry!"
Harry turned to see who had called and blinked when he saw Fleur Delacour walking up. Bill Weasley, complete with ponytail and dragon fang, was on her arm. His brother Charlie was walking alongside them with a girl Harry didn't recognize.
"'Arry, it eez so nice to see you!" said Fleur, taking his hand.
Harry felt his mouth go dry. "Hello, Fleur," he managed. "I didn't know you were still around."
"I 'ave a job at Gringotts," she said. "My Eenglish eez much improved, no?"
"You sound great," said Harry.
Bill and Charlie gave Harry and Hermione friendly hellos, but none of them stuck around long as they were eager to get to the ball. As they left, Fleur called to Harry, "Perhaps we can dance togezzer tonight, 'Arry!" Hermione just shook her head.
No sooner had they gone than Harry and Hermione heard a lone voice rise above the crowd. "Mr. and Mrs. Charles Chatham." There was a brief pause, and then it spoke again. "Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley."
"Oooh, they're being announced!" said Hermione, clapping her hands.
"Announced?"
"Yes! See all those people queued up on the balcony? You're announced when you go in for the first time."
"I guess you'd like to do that," said Harry.
Hermione's face fell a bit. "I can understand why you wouldn't," she said. "You don't like publicity much, do you?"
"Come on, let's go," said Harry, pulling her toward the staircase. "I don't mind." Hermione gave him a radiant smile. Harry felt his heart beat a little faster in spite of himself. No matter what they'd said to each other before, she was still very pretty.
"I believe you are blushing, Mr. Potter," said Hermione with a mischievous grin.
"Stop trying to make me turn red, will you?" Harry said, and she giggled with delight.
They reached the front of the line and gave their names to a woman with a clipboard and quill. The woman passed a slip of parchment to a dignified man who stood just inside the doorway. Harry took Hermione's arm again.
"Mr. Harry Potter and Miss Hermione Granger."
They stepped through the door together into a world of light, color, and music. The Grand Ballroom was gigantic. At the moment, the floor was full of tables covered by long white tablecloths. Witches and wizards were seating themselves and sipping from their wine glasses. Harry and Hermione walked down the staircase onto the floor below and saw that each seat was marked with a placecard.
Harry was just wondering how they would ever find their names when Dumbledore came walking up, dressed in magnificent purple and gold. "Good evening Mr. Potter, Miss Granger," he said, his eyes twinkling at them. "You are both looking very fine tonight."
"Thank you, sir," they said.
"By a lucky coincidence, we have been seated next to each other," said Dumbledore. "And since I already know where I am sitting, I thought I might save you the trouble of finding it yourselves."
Harry and Hermione followed the headmaster to a table near the center of the room. Harry's heart climbed into his throat when he saw the kinds of people he would be sitting next to. Most of them were older, several with grave faces. Harry realized that these were some of the others that had been specially invited by the Minister of Magic.
Dumbledore stopped, and Harry looked down at the card in front of him. It read "Mr. Harry Potter" in gold script. At the next place, the card bore Hermione's name. On Dumbledore's other side was Professor McGonagall, and she gave the two students a welcoming smile.
Harry and Hermione took their seats. Hermione was gazing around at the venerable assembly with wide brown eyes. "Are you quite terrified yet?" she whispered.
"Very," Harry whispered back. "Thank goodness we've got Dumbledore and McGonagall, at least!"
Harry's tongue seemed to be cleaved to the roof of his mouth, but Dumbledore stepped in to save the day. "Harry, Hermione, I would like to introduce you to my good friend Madam Bones," he said, and a severe-looking witch across the table smiled slightly and nodded.
"Nice to meet you," said Harry, hoping it was the right thing to say.
"A pleasure," said Madam Bones.
More introductions followed, and Harry began to feel more at ease as all the intimidating faces smiled at him one by one. Some seemed very keen to get to meet him, and for once in his life, Harry didn't mind. Hermione relaxed when more than one person said that they had heard of what a good student she was. When she discovered that the wizard across from her had written Hogwarts, A History, Hermione was nearly beside herself with joy.
Not everyone looked happy to see Harry, though. Draco Malfoy was sitting at a nearby table with Blaise Zabini and his parents; all three Malfoys gave Harry and Hermione one dismissive glance and turned up their noses. They weren't far from Fudge himself, who looked at Harry in a considering manner that made him uneasy. Umbridge was at the table as well. She was dressed in a foul pink concoction and simpered whenever Fudge spoke. When she caught Harry's eye, her sickly smile became calculating. Harry didn't hold her gaze for long.
Percy Weasley was also seated at the Minister's table. Next to him was Penelope Clearwater, his girlfriend from Hogwarts. Whenever he looked in Harry's direction Harry tried to catch his eye. Percy never took the hint, and Harry had to wonder how bad things had gotten between him and the rest of the Weasleys that he should be ignoring Ron's friends.
When supper was over everyone stood up and the tables vanished. The chairs flew to the sides of the ballroom to line the walls. The orchestra struck up a tune, and people began pairing off.
"Would you care to dance?" said Harry, bowing to Hermione.
"I'd love to!" she said, taking his hand.
Harry led her out into the middle of the floor. He put one arm around her waist and took her right hand in his left, and they were off. Hermione's cheeks flushed with pleasure as they traveled over the floor, moving with the crowd. They passed several people they knew – Fred and Angelina, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Dumbledore who was dancing with Professor McGonagall.
Harry and Hermione didn't find Ron until the song ended. He was near the edge of the crowd with Susan, who looked like she was having a very good time. Ron turned bright red every time Susan smiled at him.
"Ron!" said Harry, waving at them.
"Nice monkey suit," said Ron, taking in Harry's black and white. Then his eyes fell on Hermione. He gaped like a fish for a few seconds before he managed to say anything at all. "Wow, Hermione," he finally said. Hermione blushed yet again.
Susan's eyes narrowed. Harry stepped in to try and defuse the situation. "Hello, Susan," he said. "Having fun?"
"I was," she said flatly. Ron gulped, but he was saved when Susan's attention was suddenly drawn elsewhere. "Look!" she said. "Isn't that Professor Lupin with Professor Thornby?"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked where she was pointing. There they were, dancing around with the rest of the crowd, staring into each others' eyes. They barely seemed to notice the other people.
"Oh, how romantic," Susan sighed. She turned starry eyes on Ron, and he gulped again. "They look so into each other. I wonder how they met?"
"Don't know," Harry lied.
At that moment the song ended and the orchestra began a new one. "Oh, a Viennese waltz!" said Hermione. She clasped her hands together in excitement and gave Harry a hopeful look.
"Subtle, Hermione," he said. "I suppose you'd like to dance again?"
"Let's go," she said, seizing his hand and dragging him after her.
Hermione proved to be insatiable on the dance floor. She and Harry danced four in a row before she allowed him to take a break, and then she snapped up George while Harry was resting. Susan seemed to lose a bit of her possessiveness when Ernie Macmillan asked her for a dance, and Ron was finally free for a waltz with Hermione.
Harry was watching his friends gliding over the floor from the sidelines when he noticed Ginny standing alone, looking a little bit sad. Harry blinked; he hadn't recognized her at first. She was wearing a cream-colored dress and long, matching gloves. The whole ensemble made her look at least a year older.
"Hello, Ginny," said Harry. "You look awfully nice."
Ginny jumped and turned red. "Harry! Um… you look nice, too."
"Where's Michael?" Harry asked.
"Oh, he's, um, dancing with another girl," said Ginny.
"Well, Ron's dancing with my date right now," said Harry.
"They're on their third," Ginny said quietly.
"Oh," said Harry. "Well… how about a dance with me?"
"Are you sure Hermione won't mind?" said Ginny.
"It's not like that," said Harry. "Trust me, she won't care."
"Okay," said Ginny, perking up a bit.
The orchestra was just starting a new song, and suddenly everyone began lining up. "What's going on?" said Harry.
"I don't know," said Ginny.
They stepped back to watch. It looked like some kind of a pattern dance; men and women faced each other in two different lines. Some couples met in the middle while others stayed behind. Partners switched more than once, and eventually pairs began to dance down the length of the lines. After they had run through the sequence once Harry felt that he had it down.
"Okay, are you ready?" he said.
"What?" exclaimed Ginny. "I've never even seen this dance before!"
"Come on, it'll be fun," said Harry, pulling Ginny to the end of the line.
At first Ginny looked as if she was about ready to panic, but after they had gone through the pattern multiple times, she started to smile again. Eventually they were switching partners, only to come back to each other again. Harry felt more than a bit awkward when he found himself taking both Professor McGonagall and Professor Thornby for a turn. Ginny, however, got the shock of her life when she found herself partnered with her old professor Lupin and then Snape himself.
When the dance was over, Harry and Ginny saw what looked like half the Hogwarts student attendees applauding them in a group. Harry looked back at the shifting crowd and realized that no other students had attempted the dance.
"Gin, you danced with Snape!" laughed George.
"And we'll never let you forget it," said Fred.
"You owe me, Harry," said Ginny.
"Hey, it's not my fault that Snape decided to get a life," said Harry.
"Come on, they're doing another," said Ginny, pulling Harry back toward the lines. "And this time, let's stay far away from Snape!"
To Harry, it seemed that the hours were flying by. Late in the evening he looked at the ornate clock on the wall and could hardly believe that it was after eleven. He had danced with what felt like half the female students, and his feet were beginning to hurt. Hermione had been his most frequent partner, but she never seemed to tire. At the moment Fred Weasley was leading her in a crazy step that Harry was sure he had invented himself. He looked around and saw Ron standing off to one side of the room, talking animatedly with a tall, handsome young man. Ron saw him looking and waved him over.
"Harry, you know who this is, don't you?" he said fervently.
"Ah, no," said Harry.
Ron smacked his forehead with his palm. "I don't believe you! This is Donald Crumpet! Seeker and Captain for the Chudley Cannons!"
"You're Harry Potter, right, mate?" said Donald, stretching out his hand.
"Yeah," said Harry. "Nice to meet you."
"I hear you're quite a Seeker," said Donald. "Have you ever considered going professional?"
Harry smiled nervously. "Ah, no, not really. I've been planning on becoming an Auror."
"A fine career," said Donald. "But if you ever change your mind, you could be a really hot ticket. I once heard that the English national team tried to recruit your dad, even before he graduated."
"Really?" said Harry.
"Yeah," said Donald. "The talent must run in your family – I say!" He turned to look at the person who had just bumped into him.
Harry had never seen the man before; in fact, he hadn't even seen him approach. He was swathed in black from head to toe. He had dark brown hair, a short goatee, and a pair of cold, cruel eyes. Something about him made Harry take a step backwards.
"Harry," Ron began, looking uneasily at the man, but he never got a chance to finish. The stranger pulled out his wand, pointed it at Harry, and began to Sing.