OOO

Chapter Six: A Halloween What?

OOO

The next few weeks passed by in a haze—a blur. I spent my days tailing Harry and his friends, or sitting in my rooms—which were as comfortable as any teacher's. My nights were spent either dreaming of Renee or dreaming with Renee. I spent many a night with her, talking late and falling asleep on her couch with my arms around her.

Often, on those nights, we laughed about how stupid or silly we'd been during our Hogwarts years. Sometimes I told her about the Order—which she and Meg had joined upon their return from Ireland. She, in return, told me about her classes that day, out on the grounds with years one through seven—one of those classes, I attended invisible.

Harry, for reasons unfathomable to me, had selected Care of Magical Creatures as one of his third year electives. I had found more useful studies to fill my time with—I'd taken Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. I didn't see how any of the four had helped with Auror studies, but I'd gotten on fine until that devastating October, and I was sure Harry would be okay too.

I found, now that I had returned to Hogwarts, that I was glad Harry had taken Care of Magical Creatures. It provided me the opportunity to see Renee at time other than the middle of the night. I told him, when he came to visit me in my rooms one evening, that I was terribly sorry I'd laughed at him for taking Magical Creatures. He'd told me it was okay and that he simply had wanted an easy class.

Care of Magical Creatures class, I now found, was much more interesting than I'd ever thought. Harry's fifth year class was not very advanced, and I found myself on par with most of them.

In their third year, they'd had an encounter with a hippogriff, and spent the rest of the year observing flobberworms. Fourth year was mainly devoted to the new breed of Blast-Ended Skrewts. The remainder of the year had consisted of unicorns and nifflers. This year held the anticipation of being just as interesting—or just as boring.

But I overheard many of the boys in the class sighing that any class taught by so hot a professor would never be boring. When I relayed this news to Renee, she merely laughed and scolded me for pouting.

"They're so cute, these boys," she said one night, snuggling close to me.

"Thanks, and I'm not?" I said, drawing away, feigning hurt.

"Would I say such a thing?" Of course, we'd laughed at that.

September rolled into October and I found life a bit more interesting. Harry and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Delores Jane Umbridge, did not—I repeat not—get along. He had already had a week of detention with her for merely telling her that Voldemort had indeed returned, and he got a week more for the same. Normally, I don't mind detentions—I encourage the behavior that lands one in detention in the first place—but the torture that woman used…oh, it made my blood boil. I simply wanted to take her, and shake her, and smack her upside the head. Sadly and unfortunately, I could do none of the three. But there was something far more interesting that made life worth-while.

On the first day of October, Dumbledore announced at breakfast that on the evening of Halloween, October thirty-first, at precisely six-thirty p.m., there was to be a grand masquerade ball, with feast preceding. Everyone was to wear their finest Muggle costumes, and a mask. Food, drink, dance, and fun would be had, and music would be provided by a student band.

The female population of Hogwarts castle, naturally, erupted.

The male population, on the other hand, groaned, slumped in their seats, and groaned some more. Dancing, they were heard to say in tones that spoke volumes of self-pity, and disgust. Dancing…

Harry, of course, brought Ron to me that evening and they complained incessantly. I merely smiled, and asked who they'd be going with. They didn't answer.

"Ask soon," I advised. "If you don't snap someone up in the first week or so, you'll end up with someone who absolutely hates you, or someone hideously ugly, or…"

"Yeah," Ron said. "It all gives me de-ja-vou to last year. The Yule Ball…"

"Oh, God, that," Harry groaned. "Don't remind me. Parvati—"

"Padma—"

"A nightmare," they finished together. We laughed.

"No, I'm serious," I said.

"In more ways than one," Harry sniggered. I glared at the old joke resurfacing again. Ron quickly smothered a laugh into a bad cough. After taking a sip of water, he choked, while Harry barely managed a straight face, patting his choking and wheezing best friend on the back.

"Stop it," I said as Ron regained his composure. "Ask someone this week. Then you won't have to worry about it."

"How do you expect us to find someone in a week?" Harry said indignantly.

"You've both got someone in the back of your minds—I can see it in your eyes. All right. We meet back here on Friday evening, and all three of us have dates. Agreed?"

"Yes," they said in unison. They stood up and headed for the door. My eyes narrowed.

"Promise?" I asked sharply. They sighed, caught, and muttered incoherently. "Promise."

"We promise," they uttered sullenly, as I chuckled.

OOO

Over the next week, I followed Harry as he was hunted down and interrogated by girls who wanted to go with him to the Ball. Frightened, he turned them all down, and went on the hunt for his girl. I had an idea who it was, as he was coming very close to stalking her.

Cho Chang was a very pretty sixth year, with long black hair, and pretty eyes. Harry had had a growing crush on her for the last three years and was finally making his move. But every time he went to ask her, she was surrounded by a pack of giggling girls. He'd had the same problem last year. When he told me about his dilemma on Wednesday evening, I told him to just go and ask her for a word, and if she really liked him back, as I suspected, she'd go. I also, nastily I know, reminded him of a certain promise he'd made. Am I mean, or what?

The next day he caught her before dinner and asked her to go to the ball with him, with no sort of tact whatsoever. Ah, well. Not all boys have the finesse it takes to ask girls out. But she accepted him with grace, and that was that.

Ron, it seemed, had a little more difficultly in plucking up the courage to ask his chosen date. Hermione could be very intimidating, I suppose, but having never seen her that way, I really wasn't one to tell. Ron did however, manage to ask her on Friday morning, and she had glowed and beamed at him for the rest of the day.

I had a bit more trouble. Renee was behind on lesson plans that week, and so I hadn't been visiting her that week. I also, however, had made the promise to the boys, to have a date by Friday night. However, I had no way of taking her a word of what I wanted—I couldn't leave Harry. Finally, though I hated the idea, I had to leave him for five minutes. I sprinted to her room during Harry's Charms class—it was nearest—and left, on her bed, a note asking her to come to the ball with me, and a single white rose. Then I dashed back to Harry with none the wiser to my absence—not that anyone knew I was there in the first place, but, whatever.

I went as a dog to dinner that night, after putting a Disillusionment Charm on myself. When I nudged her hand she dropped a note saying "Of course, thank you." I whuffed quietly, and ran back to where Harry was sitting to see if I could steal a bit of baked potato.

In my rooms that night, we all laughed over our pathetic ways of asking, and congratulated each other on their pick. We sympathized with Harry, as he had three more nights of detention to serve with the hideous Umbridge woman. Lastly we breathed sighs of relief that now the hard part of the ball was done, and all that was left, basically was waiting…and learning to dance properly.

It was going to be a splendid ball, I decided as I fell asleep that night. And we'd be wearing masks, so perhaps, if I asked Dumbledore, I could leave the Invisibility Cloak off that night. Splendid indeed…