Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns everything and everybody in this story except for two OCs.

A/N: Hello new reviewers! Koryan'shea, Maddie and farleydunlop'04, thanks!

farleydunlop'04 - none taken. Akalei, your reviews always make us very happy. The chapters will start to get a bit longer now, we think.


FFF

8. Sewing.

The great hall looked very different the evening before the Halloween ball. The walls and windows were festooned with long strands of cobwebs. Someone had wanted to animate them with real live spiders, but McGonagall had thought it would be unsanitary. Ron had agreed wholeheartedly.

The sky was dark and cloudless, but professor Flitwick had agreed to charm the ceiling to make it look like there was a raging thunderstorm outside, on the night of the ball. The regular candles had been replaced by ghostly silver chandeliers, hovering in mid air. Scull-shaped candles were placed on the tables, and in every corner of the room there were giant jack-o'-lanterns. Professor Flitwick had also prepared a few atmosphere-heightening details for the students to enjoy. There were the usual bats flying across the ceiling, but he had also added large rats scurrying under the tables. He hadn't told McGonagall about those.

The band was practising in the corner. Tommy pushed his fringe out of his eyes.

"So I was thinking," he explained to Ferguson, "I was thinking, we should try to jazz it up a little, because it's supposed to be dance music, you know?"

"Jazz is not very spooky though, is it?" said Ferguson, who liked their trademark rock style.

"Jazz is Halloweeny," Tommy insisted. "I always listen to jazz."

"Yeah, and you're scary enough, aren't you?" said "Dirty Socks" Joe. His matted grey hair fell in scraggly tangles over his face. He tested a few tunes on the piano. On the old, damaged instrument were written the words "ancient pain" in red paint. Someone had apparently not appreciated its music much.

"Leave it," said Lorenz Flange. "We only need one of that sort of instrument. Can someone help me tune my xylophone?"


"How did it come to this?" Hermione asked afterwards, as they headed down the corridor. Nobody answered.

She, Harry, Ron, and Kya had been checking on how the preparations for the ball were coming along. They had felt obliged to help the venerable gents with dragging out all the old instruments they had been able to find.

"At least we managed to convince them not to sing," said Ron, who thought the band was kind of funny, in spite of it all.

"It's not like there was anyone else who was willing to play."

"It'll be alright, 'Mione," said Kya. "Where are we going now?"

"To visit Dobby," said Harry.

"Who's Dobby?"

"He's a friend who we haven't seen for ages," said Harry, shrugging. He did seem to have been neglecting some of his old friends lately. He hadn't seen Hagrid outside of Care of Magical Creatures, and had all but forgotten Hedwig. After all, he had been rather busy. Come to think of it, he had hardly had time to worry about Voldemort.

Which was a good thing, he told himself. His life was stressful enough as it was. He should be happy that his scar hadn't hurt at all, lately. Yet it made him wonder.


Dobby was ecstatic to see them. Kya looked at him, wide-eyed, as he ran up and greeted each one of them with less subservience than the house elves she was used to.

After having shaken hands with all of them twice, Dobby said he had to work with the food for the ball, but promised to be with them once the gravy was simmering properly.

"Would you like food?" he asked them.

"Yes please," said Ron, before anyone could decline it.

As they were ushered to the small table in the corner of the kitchen, Kya broached the subject of Dobby's behaviour.

"The house elf seems very attached to you all," she said quietly to Hermione, as they watched Dobby run off.

"Oh, yes," said Hermione, and she related to Kya the story of how Dobby had gained his freedom in their second year, and of his subsequent quest for paid work.

"That's lovely," said Kya, beaming.

Hermione then began to chat with Kya about S. P. E. W., happy to have found someone willing to listen to her at last. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, but Harry didn't notice.

Dobby brought them their eggs and, despite their insistence that they were not that hungry, Yorkshire pudding. He then decided he could afford to spare some time.

"Dobby has not been seeing Harry Potter very much," he said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that," Harry began.

"Dobby is knowing that Harry Potter is being very busy, sir. Dobby has been working a lot also," said Dobby. "Dobby has been preparing for the ball."

"Oh, yes, the ball," said Hermione. "I wish we had decent costumes."

"Is you not having decent costumes, miss?" said Dobby.

"We went to Hogsmeade too late," said Kya. "We had been counting on the room of requirement."

"You can not take anything out of that room, miss," said Dobby, sensibly.

"We realized that," said Harry.

"You is not using the things in the room, sir," said Dobby. "You is bringing the right things in and using it with the things in there. Just do not take anything from the room back out, sir."

"What?" said Ron.

"Bring in the parts, take out the whole," said Kya, thoughtfully. "Of course!"

"What?" said Hermione. Harry was surprised. He had understood it perfectly.

"You have to bring in your own material." He explained. "We can find the right spells and things in the room, and turn it into costumes."

It dawned on them all.

"Didn't we find an old curtain?" said Hermione. "For Ron's costume?"

"Yeah, but that's mine," said Ron.

"It belongs to all of us," said Kya. "Besides, I'm sure we can find a spell to stretch it a bit."

"Don't you know any spells for that?" Ron asked Hermione.

"No, Ron, I don't sew for a hobby," she snapped.

"What?" said Ron, incredulously. "You used to make hats for the house elves all the time!"

It seemed as if all of the activity in the kitchen stopped.

"Was that you, miss?" said one of the house elves, slowly.

"Thanks for the food, Dobby," said Harry. They all got up and hastily departed.


"Tela Tesserio," Hermione muttered, pointing her wand at Ron's curtain. It stretched out and became larger. She took a pair of scissors from a table nearby, and began to cut the cloth into even pieces.

The room was dimly lit by a few tall candelabras. Massive bookshelves lined the plaster walls. The four friends were sitting in a circle on the floor.

None of them talked much as they worked, apart from muttering the occasional spell. There were sounds of scissors cutting, Kya stirring her potion, and the wooden beams in the ceiling creaking for some unknown reason.

After a while, Kya's potion started hissing and bubbling, and she announced that it was ready.

Hermione held up her piece of the cloth. What had at first been an old, moth-eaten velvet curtain, was now an old, moth-eaten velvet mermaid suit.

"I want it scaly," she told Kya. "And shiny."

Kya nodded, and took the dress. She dipped it in the cauldron. After that, she withdrew a small bag from her stash of herbs. She put a pinch of the spices in the potion, and stirred. It fizzed and started to slowly turn purple.

After a while, she put on her dragon hide gloves, lifted the dress out of the potion, and laid it on a rack to dry. Hermione went over to inspect it, and found that it was no longer old, moth-eaten and velvet, but shiny and sleek.

She lifted her wand, twirled it and said, "Novo Colori!"

The mermaid suit had turned a pale shade of green.