Chapter 23 – Bugs, Boys, and Balls
At breakfast the next morning Harry was greeted by incredulous looks and whispers, and more than a few chortles of laughter. One of the Gryffindors even pointed as Harry walked through the doors to the Great Hall.
"What've I done now?" he muttered as he slipped into place next to Tracey and Blaise.
Blaise just sniggered and shoved a copy of the Daily Prophet at him.
"You need to be more careful what you say to journalists, mate," he said.
Harry groaned.
"What did she write?" he asked, looking down at the paper.
"It's not that bad," said Tracey, "but... well, I know you really well so I know that if you did say those things you didn't mean them in the way she said in the article, but..."
Harry found the article Skeeter had written on him, and far from being a small profile, it occupied a whole page in the Prophet's morning edition, complete with the photograph taken at his lunch with Giovanna the previous day.
Who Is Harry Potter?
A profile by Rita Skeeter
We all think we know Harry Potter. His story is known worldwide, a true example of the wonder and mystery of magic. He is the only person ever to have survived a run-in with the Killing Curse. He is the vanquisher of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He is a student at Hogwarts School. These things are all known.
But who is Harry Potter really? To understand that we have to understand where he came from.
Harry Potter was born to James Potter, the pureblood heir to the Sleakeazy fortune, and his muggleborn wife, Lily Potter, in July 1980. Lily and James Potter were well known advocates of muggleborn rights, and were steadfast in their opposition to You-Know-Who and his campaign of terror. Perhaps it is little wonder that the greatest Dark Lord this country has ever seen personally attacked them on that fateful Hallowe'en Night. Tragically, Lily and James Potter were killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but young Harry survived.
Harry Potter became the Boy-Who-Lived, unique in recorded history. And the Dark Lord died. Vanquished by a baby, destroyed by magic none had seen before and which perhaps none will ever see again.
Our world rejoiced. But young Harry, alive though he was, was orphaned. Left alone in this world without parents, without the safety of family. And so he was sent to live with his muggle aunt, the sister of Lily Potter.
Young Harry spent his life among muggles, living as a muggle – this reporter can reveal that young Harry knew nothing of magic until he received his Hogwarts letter! He was Sorted into Slytherin House – a surprise, given his family's long association with Gryffindor House and by all accounts, settled in nicely.
But Harry's return to our great society was not without incident. I am, of course, writing about the debacle with Quirinus Quirrell. The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor – young for such a post – allegedly kidnapped Harry Potter at the end of the school year. I must say 'allegedly' because the matter has never gone to trial, for reasons which will become quite clear later on.
It is well-known that Quirrell had an accomplice within the school. This much is apparent from the official statements, available for viewing at the Ministry archives. Some have suggested that none other than Sirius Black, the escaped convict, was responsible – but Potter disagrees.
In a statement delivered by Albus Dumbledore, Potter is said to have claimed, unequivocally, that Sirius Black was not present. That Quirinus Quirrell's unknown accomplice was a man known to young Harry only as 'Wormtail', also called 'Pettigrew'.
Now, that is a name most of us have not heard in a long time. Peter Pettigrew, as we all know, was murdered by Sirius Black many years ago. A sign of Black's madness, perhaps, that he is pretending to be his murdered friend? Who can say.
Fortunately, Quirinus Quirrell was killed in the incident and no harm came to young Harry, although the accomplice escaped. Potter himself has never delivered an official statement on this incident: all communication regarding this has been delivered by Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School.
No one can blame Harry Potter for what occurred in his first year, but even so, it is an inauspicious return to our world!
As for young Harry himself, my sources have many interesting things to say. Potter is an excellent student – while not exceptional in the manner of Albus Dumbledore (see my book, A Warlock's Legacy: the Rise of Dumbledore, for more on that!) he gets good marks and is spoken of favourably by his teachers. And all this after being raised as a muggle! A sign of things to come, perhaps?
Socially, Harry Potter has certainly done well for himself. He is noted as being a close friend of Ernest Macmillan, only son of Algernon Macmillan of Hogsmeade, a well-known figure in our society. He was seen at the recent Quidditch World Cup in the company of the Macmillan men. But Harry's popularity doesn't end there: he is reported to be very close with Theodore Nott, son of the wealthy landowner, Sinistrus Nott, along with Blaise Zabini, son of the controversial socialite Livia Zabini.
Young Harry has certainly managed to ingratiate himself with the great and good of our society. Perhaps that is unsurprising, given his status and his Sorting into Slytherin House, but it is interesting.
This reporter has managed to secure an interview with Harry Potter himself. It is well known that Potter has never given an interview: not unusual for one so young, but given his unique place in our world, perhaps it was overdue. Dutifully I have shared what I learned with you all here today. Aren't we all lucky? I happened to chance upon young Harry in the Three Broomsticks Inn of Hogsmeade, and Harry was gracious enough to give an interview.
What I learned may shock you!
It should be no surprise to readers of my weekly column that Harry Potter is participating in the revived Triwizard Tournament this year, specifically in its Pariturium and Aerobaticum – duelling and flying events open, this year, to younger students. What better questions to ask than those regarding the Tournament itself? Fresh from his recent successes – two wins at the Novice level – I asked Potter to give me his opinions on the Triwizard Champions.
Potter expressed strong support for Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts, but was canny enough to rate Fleur Delacour and Viktor Krum's chances as well! We moved swiftly on to Potter's own participation.
Our interview was a wonderful opportunity to ask Harry about his partnership with a pretty little witch in his House called Tracey Davis. As happens occasionally this reporter made a little mistake when she referred to Miss Davis as a muggleborn – easy enough to make, as Davis is not a traditionally wizarding name. But Potter immediately and forcefully corrected the error, saying 'she's halfblood, actually'.
Keen to move on from what was obviously a touchy subject for Potter, I asked him what his favourite part of duelling was. The answer that may surprise my dear readers is that Potter gets excited by casting jinxes and hexes—and why would our hero enjoy casting Dark charms quite so much? Now, I am not one to cast aspersions as you all well know as a matter of personal pride and journalistic integrity, but is a curious thing that Potter enjoys that aspect of duelling the most, isn't it? But of course, this reporter is not a duellist, and cannot comment on whether such a thing is usual for that lot.
Perhaps it is.
What is clear is that Harry Potter is a much more complicated young man than any of us realised. Someone to watch, certainly. Fans of Potter might be interested in attending the next round of the Pariturium – dates to be announced – in the New Year. My sources tell me also that Potter will be competing in the Aerobaticum, so fans of broomwork can try for tickets to those events, too.
Pictured here is Harry Potter with his vivacious and exotic female companion, Giovanna Fantani of Durmstrang Institute.
"That fucker," said Harry once he'd read through the whole article. "That's a fucking character assassination! I never said—well, I mean, I guess I technically did—but..." He groaned.
"Language, Potter," interjected one of the prefects from up the table.
"Oh, for fuck's—" Harry said.
"Oi!"
"Alright, alright," said Harry to appease the irate prefect. He lowered his voice. "I can't believe she brought up all that stuff about Quirrell last year!" he said. It had taken him long enough to really internalise that Quirrell's death hadn't been his fault, only for Skeeter to bring up the whole sordid affair as part of her gossip column. Not to mention she'd dragged his friends and their families into it, too.
"It was kind of a big deal," said Blaise. He shrugged. "You know, a teacher kidnapped a student and then ended up dead. It's... I mean, it doesn't happen every year, does it?"
"I suppose," Harry agreed reluctantly, "but there's a way of saying things."
"Thanks for correcting her, though, Harry," said Tracey. "She even got my name right this time! It's just a shame she took it out of context..."
"I only said you were halfblood because she got it wrong last time as well! And I thought, if she was going to write about you, it should be clear that it's... well, the right Tracey Davis," he said. "And I suppose I did say it was exciting casting jinxes, but I said what I really enjoyed was thinking on my feet..."
"That's journalists for you," said Blaise. "At least you know to be more careful about what you say next time."
"She can go f—" Harry started to say, and then stopped himself as he was unwilling to get in trouble with the prefects. "I won't be giving her an interview again, that's for certain," he said instead.
"It wasn't that bad," said Tracey again. "And she didn't come out and say anything horrible, it was just some implications... but Skeeter's like that, she never outright says anything, she just likes to ask questions and suggest possibilities. Nan says she's a gossipmonger, and that's it."
"Yeah, and she implied I don't like muggleborns and do like Dark magic," Harry said. "God, I hope Giovanna isn't too upset by the article—they stuck her picture in it and named her and everything." Unfortunately, Giovanna had been sat at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast, and Harry didn't want to draw any extra attention to her by going over to talk with her to find out.
"I don't see why she would be," Blaise said. "She looks fit in that picture and they didn't say anything bad about her. She might even be pleased that it's raising her profile. I know I am. The bit about my mum was actually better than what Skeeter usually says about her."
"I don't think she's really that bothered about her profile," Harry muttered, but what had happened had happened and nothing could be done to change it. Instead of moping about it, Harry helped himself to some breakfast and kept a discreet watch for Giovanna to leave the Great Hall so he could apologise about the article.
With any luck Giovanna would be unconcerned with the article and Harry would still have a date for the Yule Ball. If not, well... Harry would have to figure something else out.
"I wonder if there'd be any point in complaining to the editor," Harry mused over his cornflakes. "Make a point of showing I'm not happy about having my words taken out of context, you know, something like that."
Blaise and Tracey shared a look.
"Definitely not," Blaise said after a few moments. "The editor let Skeeter publish the article in the first place. And if you complain, they'll double down on it."
"Everyone knows this is what the Prophet is like," Tracey said. "Although, well, if you don't I suppose that makes sense—you've not been reading it that long. But... well, I don't want to call you a 'celebrity' because—you know—but lots of, erm..."
"Public figures," supplied Blaise.
"Yeah, lots of public figures," continued Tracey, "have this happen to them. I remember a few years ago Celestina Warbeck got into an argument with a fan outside Florean Fortescue's and it was in the papers for weeks. Well, there was a whole thing about it—Nan was following it, so I remember—but anyway, she sent a letter in to the Prophet and they published it and made her look like a right nutcase. It all blew over eventually but I don't think it's a route you want to go down."
"Yeah, fair enough," said Harry, although he didn't like the idea of just letting it go. But then, there wasn't much that he could do.
"You could always go for litigation—sue for damage to your reputation, something like that," said Blaise, "but that seems an overreaction and would probably make it look like they were right. Best to just let her have this one and be more careful what you say next time."
"Nah, you're right it's probably best to ignore it for now," said Harry, although the thought was an unpleasant one. "I just wish people would stop obviously pointing at me and talking about it."
"That's asking too much, mate," Blaise said. "They'll forget by later, anyway. You're not that interesting."
"You always know just what to say," said Harry. "I'm touched."
"No worries," said Blaise.
Harry went to reply, but spotted Giovanna get up from the table along with one of her friends.
"I'll see you in a bit," Harry said to Blaise and Tracey. "I'm just going to go see Giovanna before they get back to the ship," he said, and got up from the table. He caught Giovanna and her friend just before they left the castle, and Giovanna sent her friend – Natasha, Harry remembered from the Cultural Fayre – through the Entrance Hall doors without her.
"I imagine you've seen the article," Harry said. "Sorry you had to be part of it. I didn't want you to think... er... well. Skeeter shouldn't have named you, is all."
"Well, it wasn't me that she suggested unkind things about," said Giovanna. "And I told her my own name—I should have realised it would appear in the paper. But it is only an English rag, no? As long as my Nonna does not see any unexpected pictures of me with foreign boys in her evening paper everything will be fine."
Giovanna shrugged.
"There are worse things than to be pictured with a handsome, famous wizard," she said.
"You think I'm handsome?" asked Harry, beaming.
Giovanna just smiled at him before walking out the big Entrance Hall doors, and Harry returned to the breakfast table grinning like an idiot.
Harry spent the next couple of weeks watching his friends scramble to try and find dates for the Yule Ball and feeling smug because he'd sorted that out already. All Harry had to worry about was Christmas homework, which the teachers hadn't skimped on even though they knew all of their students were far more interested in the Ball than whatever it was they'd been assigned. Well, that and telling his aunt that he wouldn't be home for Christmas – again – that year.
Harry scratched out a few draft letters while sat with Blaise – the only other boy who'd managed to get a date so far – in the Common Room one evening while they watched their friends and Housemates fumble around trying to find dates.
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon,
I forgot to tell you that I won my duelling matches! Both of them, actually. I competed in the singles and the doubles matches and I won both. My doubles partner is Tracey—you know, the one I visited in Barcelona? We were in the paper as well. I've got a copy of the article here in case you wanted to see it.
Harry had duplicated his copy of the article and stuck it behind the sheet of parchment. It had an animated photograph of part of the duel on it, which Harry that his aunt would like to keep even though she'd never display it anywhere. In her box of magic things in the attic, Harry supposed.
Blaise nudged Harry.
"Look, Vince has just gone over to Florence. Bet you a sickle she'll say no when he asks her to the Ball," Blaise said.
"I'm not taking that bet," Harry said. For one, it felt rude to bet on Vince's romantic misfortune, but it was also just an awful bet, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that Florence didn't like Vince, who had already asked – and been rejected by – most of the other girls in their year.
"Um, Floz?"
Harry winced. Florence hated that nickname, which had been given to her by Pansy. If Vince had ever had a chance, it had evaporated right there and then.
"He's bollocksed it," Harry muttered to Blaise. "Two words, and he's fucked it."
"What, Vince?" said Florence, sighing loudly as she looked up from her book. She was sat with Irene, who Vince had asked out earlier that morning. "Going to ask me to the Yule Ball next?"
"I—well, I mean... yeah," Vince managed to say eventually. "So, d'you want to?"
"No," said Florence. "I've already got a date. And I've just watched you go around the room asking half the girls here before me, so even if I would have wanted to, knowing I was your last choice out of everyone would have changed my mind! Ugh, boys."
"You're not my last choice," protested Vince. "I haven't asked Millicent yet—" he said, and Harry groaned.
"You can fuck off if you think I'll go with you, Crabbe," shouted Millicent from across the room.
Vince stomped out of the Common Room in the direction of his dormitory, while many of the students remaining burst into laughter.
"That was painful," said Blaise. "He might have actually had a chance with Millie if he'd asked her first, as well," he said much more quietly.
"Doubt it," Harry said. "His cat bullies Millie's."
Harry returned to his letter. It wouldn't write itself, and he needed to get it sent so his aunt could think of reasons for him not to be there to give Marge.
There are still three rounds left in the tournament so I'll let you know how I do in those as well. And I've not even started my flying events yet – there's loads, so I've got a really busy year ahead. Three rounds in each of the events, if you get through to the end, anyway.
Harry thought about telling his aunt and uncle that they could – in theory at least – get tickets to one of the events, but realised he had no idea how that would work in actuality. Would there be someone available to take them to Hogwarts? Could they pass through the barrier at King's Cross? Floo, perhaps, or a Portkey...
Well, probably best not to mention it at all, Harry thought. He knew his aunt would appreciate the thought behind the offer and probably wouldn't accept the invitation anyway, but on the off-chance she did and Harry had to admit he didn't know how to manage it practically, Harry decided against it.
Perhaps for the finals.
There aren't any more events between now and Christmas, though. Well, there is one, but it's not a competition event. Actually, it was part of the reason why I sent this letter now. As part of the Tournament there's going to be a big ball this year at Christmas. I don't think anyone at school is going home for Christmas this year, it's that big of an event.
Which is why I'm writing to say that I won't be home this year, either. I know I said last year that I would, but I didn't know anything about the Tournament then! Sorry. But this is a proper ball, it's all anyone's been talking about for weeks, and everyone from the other two schools is going to it, too. I think it's in the rules that everyone taking part in the competitions has to attend the ball anyway.
I've even got a date! Her name is Giovanna, and she's Italian – from one of the other schools. She's part of the flying competition as well so I'll be competing against her after Christmas.
Harry had thought on whether to include anything about Giovanna in the letter, since he knew that his uncle got funny about all sorts of things involving foreigners, but in the end Harry decided that as he neither needed nor wanted his uncle's approval in anything up to and including romance, he would just say it.
I've ordered some things for Christmas for you all, and they should all come through the normal post in the next couple of days in Muggle-friendly packaging so you can even share them with Aunt Marge when she comes. Don't worry, it's just some food and sweets and they don't do anything magical, so it's nothing weird. But they are all really nice.
Say hello to Dudley for me.
Merry Christmas,
Harry
Harry read over his letter, corrected a couple of spelling errors, and then rolled up and sealed the parchment, making sure to include the copy of the article on his duelling wins. He'd left out Skeeter's article although he had briefly considered sending the photograph from it with the letter.
It was a nice picture.
"I'll be back in a bit," Harry said to Blaise. "Just going to nip to the Owlery to send this, then I'll come back and we can go over Vector's questions for next lesson?"
"Yeah, alright," said Blaise. "See you in a bit."
Harry left the Slytherin Common room with his letter in hand and headed towards the Owlery. That late in the evening – after dinner but before the curfew – the grand staircase leading to the upper levels of the castle, and most of the corridors leading from it, had no one moving about them. Harry did pass a couple of ghosts as they floated about the castle doing whatever it was ghosts did, but the only student he saw until he reached the fifth floor was a third-year boy sneaking behind a tapestry near the Transfiguration department.
When Harry reached the fifth floor he saw Draco at the top of the stairs. Or, more correctly, Draco bumped into Harry and nearly knocked him down the stairs in his haste to get down from the fifth floor.
"Oi!" said Harry. "You nearly knocked me..." he trailed off.
Draco's eyes were red and puffy, and his usually immaculate hair an absolute mess. As much as Harry didn't want to get involved, they were dorm mates if not mates mates, so he felt like he should say something. A cursory check, at least.
"Er, are you alright, Draco?" Harry asked.
A flash of something went up across Draco's face, but it was gone, replaced with a saccharine smile in the seconds Harry had taken to notice it.
"Oh, yes, of course, Harry," Draco said, with warmth that sounded genuine despite months of strange, distant behaviour towards all his friends. "I'm quite alright. I was... I was practising for the Pariturium. We can't afford to rest too much, can we?"
"Yeah, I suppose so," Harry said, thinking on Draco's words. The other boy was clearly not alright, and the change in demeanour was odd even measured against the backdrop of Draco's usual behaviour. "Well, I need to go post this letter home, but... are you sure you're okay?" Harry asked.
"Oh, yes, Harry," Draco said. "Never been better. Don't be too long—curfew is soon. See you later."
Harry didn't have time to respond before Draco trotted merrily away down the grand staircase. Harry spent a few moments watching him go, thinking on the other boy's strange tone and the unusual cadence of his words, but then shrugged and kept going towards the Owlery. Draco was a problem for someone, but that someone wasn't and wouldn't be Harry Potter.
Harry didn't see anyone else on his way to the Owlery. He sent off his letter with Agrippa and then made quick work of the journey back to the dungeons so he couldn't be caught outside after the curfew. Harry made it back to the Common Room with time to spare and settled back into his seat next to Blaise – although now Theodore was sat on the other side, too.
"I saw Draco on my way to Owlery, he was acting weird," Harry said. He glanced around the Common Room to check if Draco was about, but he wasn't. Pansy and Victoria were sat near one of the fires with Greg, but both Vince and Draco – the remaining members of their little gang – were nowhere to be seen.
"He's always acting weird these days," said Blaise. "Who cares? But look at this. Two boys have asked Daphne to the Ball since you've been gone, right? She said no to both of them," he added in a low whisper. Blaise nodded towards where Tracey, Millicent, and Daphne were sat. Quite near to the three boys, but not immediately adjacent and with a little gap, the girls sat around one of the little tables in the section of the Common Room usually occupied by the lower years.
"I heard Montague was going to ask her," Theodore said. "What do you think she'll say to him?"
"No, obviously," said Blaise. "He hasn't got a chance. I mean, he's not ugly if you like that sort of thing, but Daphne thinks he's a twit."
For good reason, Harry knew – Montague was an arse around girls.
"I think he's about to ask her now, actually," said Harry.
Montague got up from where he'd been sat with a few of the other Quidditch boys and crossed the invisible social line that separated the third years from the second years and swaggered over to where Daphne was sat with the girls.
Daphne paid him no attention, didn't even glance towards him when he'd parked himself on the empty chair next to the three girls. Instead, she appeared to listen intently to whatever Millicent was saying to her.
"Hey, Daphne," Montague said, loud enough that Harry was sure the entire room, including the fourth and fifth years in their part of the Common Room, could hear him. "You've had the boys ask you, but now it's time for a man. Want to go to the Ball with me?"
"I don't see any men around," said Daphne, looking all around the Common Room, and then directly at Montague while she said it. "But it's like I said to Charles and Oliver just now: I'm sure there's a girl at school who would like to go with you, but you just aren't what I'm looking for in a partner, so it has to be no. I would say it's nothing personal—it wasn't with Charles and Olly, they're both lovely—but with you, it is."
Daphne looked away from him and went back to braiding the little rope bracelets the girls had been obsessed with lately.
"Millie, would you pass me another blue cord, please?" Daphne said, completely ignoring Montague.
"Savage," Blaise said, grinning. "Absolutely savage."
"What, it's a no, just like that?" said Montague, still sat next to the three girls. "You can't just say no. Why not?"
"Because I don't like you, Montague," Daphne said after making him wait a few moments. "You flicked wads of parchment at me all last year during guided study. It wasn't cute, it was just annoying. And I wasn't joking when I said you're not what I'm looking for in a partner to the Ball."
"Yeah, but I was only—" Montague said, but Millicent interrupted him.
"She's not interested," said Millicent. "So just stop bothering us."
"It's not like I'm here for you, is it, Bulstrode?" Montague said. "So mind your own business."
"Insulting Millie isn't going to make me want to go with you, Montague," Daphne said. "Just go away."
Montague grunted and slinked away from the three girls, and he headed for the dormitories rather than his friends across the room. Too embarrassed, Harry supposed, after the rather public rejection. The fear of that was why Harry had asked Giovanna in the relative privacy they'd had getting back from Hogsmeade after lunch – at least if she'd said no the whole of Slytherin House wouldn't have seen it happen.
"Who are you waiting for to ask you to the Ball, Daph?" asked Millicent once Montague had gone. "You've had six boys ask you already this week and you've said no to all of them. I thought you were really into the Ball malarkey."
"Seven boys," corrected Daphne. "And I do want to go to the Ball," she continued, "but I'm waiting for the right person to ask me." She looked expectantly at Millicent.
"Alright, seven boys," said Millicent. "I was asking which one you did want to ask you."
"Well, it's like I said, I'm waiting for the right person who has the particular qualities that none of those boys who asked me out have," said Daphne. "That person," she said, looking directly at Millicent, "is who I want to ask me to the Ball."
"If you don't want to say you could have just said that," said Millicent. "Don't know why it has to be a big secret, mind."
"Oh, for the love of..." said Tracey. "Daphne, get over yourself and just ask Millicent to the stupid Ball! Millie, she's been dropping hints since November! I wasn't going to say anything to either of you since it's none of my business but it's doing my head in! Honestly you're being worse than the boys, since at least when they're being stupid you know it's because they're boys!"
Tracey sighed dramatically, got up from the girls' table, and sat herself down in the empty seat at Harry, Blaise, and Theodore's table.
"Daph's been being a right girl about this for weeks," Tracey said once she'd sat down. She paused. "Oh, I can say that because I am a girl. But I'm not wrong, am I?"
"Shush!" said Blaise. "Millie's about to say something."
Harry did feel rather awkward watching and listening to what should have been a nice moment between the two girls, but all the same he couldn't look away. At least they weren't being so loud the entire Common Room could hear, like with Montague.
"Was she right? You've been hinting since November?" asked Millicent. "I thought you were after that Durmstrang bloke..."
"Well... I did want you to ask me," Daphne said, "but I wasn't even sure that you... And I just didn't want to look silly..." She sighed. "Millicent, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?"
"Er, yeah, obviously," said Millicent. "But I didn't even realise you... I suppose I just always thought..."
"Good!" declared Tracey. "At least they've got that sorted. Honestly, it's been driving me mad for ages."
"I think everyone saw it except them," said Blaise.
"I've got to be honest," Harry said, "I had no idea. I thought Daph was after that Durmstrang bloke as well."
"Anatoly?" said Tracey. "No, she thought he was a berk. And he's a boy, anyway."
"I was thinking of that Hans, but..." Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter now though, does it?"
"At least we've all got dates now," said Theodore. "Nothing to worry about now until the Ball!"
Blaise turned towards Theodore.
"Who're you going with, then? You never said."
Theodore went bright red.
"I bet it's Emily," said Tracey. "Oh, no, it's not Emily, she's going with Ranvir..." She tapped the table. "I know one of the first years fancies you—is it her? Flora Carrow! It's her, isn't it?"
"You'll have to wait and see," Theodore mumbled.
"Leave him alone," said Harry. "He doesn't have to say if he doesn't want to."
"Thanks, Harry," said Theodore. "Anyone have an answer for Vector's last set of problems? I was thinking..."
Topic successfully changed, Harry, Blaise, and Tracey went over the Arithmancy homework with Theodore. Eventually Millicent and Daphne joined them, and they all chatted and played games until it was time for bed.