The Yule Ball
At the beginning of December, a bushy tree appeared in the doorway of the Muggle Studies classroom. There were great grunts as the tree pushed its way through the doorway and Hagrid appeared behind it. None of the students were surprised at his appearance, as Hagrid enveloped by marching pine trees was a common site around Hogwarts in December. A tree in their classroom, however, was a bit more unusual.
"Thank You, Hagrid," smiled Charity. "Would you stay and help us decorate?" she asked once he had the tree securely standing in the front corner of the room. Hagrid looked pleased at the invitation, but he leaned in close to her and whispered,
" 'Preciate the invitation ma'am, but I, well yeh see, not allowed ter to use Magic."
"No problem," Charity winked and whispered back. "This is Muggle Studies; none of us use magic in this classroom."
Hagrid straightened up proudly and said loudly this time, "Why thank yeh, Miss, er Professor Burbage, I'd be happy to stay and help yeh out."
Out came the boxes of tinsel, ornaments, and chocolate coins to hang on the tree. Charity explained the Muggle tradition in Trafalgar Square where the people of Norway have sent a huge Norwegian spruce every year since 1947 as a 'thank you' to England for hosting the King of Norway during his exile during the Second World War. She noticed that Hagrid gave a little sigh every time she used the word 'Norwegian.'
"The Muggles decorate it and have a great ceremony each year. If ever you get the chance to go, you should. You won't believe there's no magic involved at all." Then she explained that, for many centuries, the Muggles actually decorated their trees with apples, cakes, and sweets and she produced a bakery box from under her desk filled with them. Charity, the students, and Hagrid spent the rest of the class finding spots for these treats - either on the tree or in their bellies. Hagrid left with almost as much sugar and candy in his bushy black beard as hair.
In keeping with Triwizard tradition, most of the students fourth year and above remained at Hogwarts over the holidays to attend a Yule Ball on Christmas day. Charity had been to a formal dance at Hogwarts once before - when she was a school girl and one of Charlie Weasley's housemates had invited her. That was a long time ago, yet she entered the room on the night of the Yule Ball with the same sense of excitement and possibility. She wore a shimmering mint green dress and capelet with the edges finished in soft white fur. Her long hair was expertly twisted into tight ringlets that were loosely held back with a wide, rhinestone-encrusted comb that resembled a small tiara. She looked rather like a shiny, new snowflake floating into the ball.
She did not recognize the Great Hall as she stepped into it. It felt more like an elegant party on the great polar ice-cap itself. The walls were covered in a sparkling silver frost and the long house tables were gone; in their place were several small round tables with flickering lanterns at their center. Garlands of mistletoe and ivy hung below the ceiling, which had been enchanted to velvety black studded with shining stars. All the flickering and sparkling gave the event a surreal effect.
Nor did Charity recognize the students and staff. She wasn't the only one who'd purchased a new outfit for the occasion. Standard black robes had been replaced with beautiful shades of frosty blue and iced pink. The girls' hair was straightened, curled, frosted, and mostly piled up atop their pretty faces, and the boys looked smart in their deeply-colored, formal robes, even if many of them looked as if they'd rather be hanging out playing a game of exploding snap anywhere else. Charity couldn't help but become a little tearful with pride as she spotted a few of her own students walking into the big event.
Charity had dinner at a table full of professors, including Hagrid in a dead-looking brown suit. He kept waving over to the table of judges and champions at Madame Maxime, the large-boned headmistress from Beauxbatons. After dinner the Weird Sisters band began playing music as the tables were whisked away, leaving space for a very large dance floor. The dancing started with the four champions and their dates, and others soon joined in. Charity was pulled, quite literally, onto the dance floor by Hagrid. She soon discovered his urgency to dance when he awkwardly cut in on Dumbledore, who had been dancing with Madame Maxime. Charity then had the great pleasure of finishing the dance with Professor Dumbledore. He simply glided along the dance floor once he had a partner more his stature.
The teachers made a game of switching partners at every song. Professor Flitwick was very light on his feet, while Professor Binns turned out to be just as boring on the dance floor as he was in the classroom. Charity was thankful that Professor Moody's peg leg and grim attitude kept him far from the dancing. Charity had not been comfortable around Moody ever since he'd caught her in the hall a few weeks before the ball and flat out told her that Muggle Studies was a "waste of time."
Taking a break, Charity accepted a nog from a floating tray and headed over to talk to some students from her class. Padma Patil and her twin sister were sitting with a group of boys from Beauxbatons. One of the Beauxbatons boys was a Muggle born, so Charity questioned him a bit about French Muggle customs at the holidays.
"Fascinating!" she had just finished saying when someone tapped her on the shoulder. It was an athletic-looking, older student whom she did not recognize from Hogwarts, although he looked vaguely familiar.
"Pardon me, but would you like to dance?"
Swigging the rest of her nog, Charity answered, "Certainly," and the boy led her to the dance floor. The Weird Sisters were playing a low-key number, so they were able to chat over the bagpipes.
"Are you from Durmstrang or Beauxbatons?" she asked, although his accent sounded more Scottish Brogue.
"Neither," he answered proudly. "I'm a Hogwarts alum. Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, including last year when we won the Quidditch Cup."
"Ah, Quidditch. You're…um…um…you've just started playing professionally, right?" Charity's father followed Quidditch pretty closely, and she remembered him pointing out a small photo in a Quidditch Illuminated article that had mentioned something about one of the teams picking up a player from Hogwarts.
"That's right! I'm Oliver Wood and I play for Puddlemere United," he said robustly. "Reserve team for now, but practices are going very well and I expect to be brought up in the spring!"
The music picked up, so they had to shout to be heard. "SO, WHEN DID YOU COME TO HOGWARTS? I DON'T REMEMBER SEEING YOU AROUND," Oliver said.
"OH, JUST THIS YEAR. I'M TEACHING MUGGLE STUDIES."
"YOU'RE A PROFESSOR?" he said as his jaw dropped. "I MIGHT'VE FOCUSED A LOT MORE ON MY SCHOOLWORK AND LESS ON QUIDDITCH IF I'D'VE HAD A PROFESSOR LIKE YOU!"
'What a sweet kid,' thought Charity.
The sweet kid was then assaulted on the dance floor by two flaming redheads, who mussed his hair and pounded his back, yelling, "Wood! Wood old MAN!"
"Weasleys!" shouted Oliver, trying to shake them off. "Professor, er…"
"Burbage!" Fred and George said in unison, raising their eyebrows up and down suggestively.
"Professor Burbage," Oliver continued, "These are my two beaters from the gryffindor Quidditch team, Fred and George Weasley."
"Oh, I know who these two are," Charity said, giving them a mock reproving look.
The twins turned to each other in feigned shock with their hands clapped to their hearts and said, "She knows us, Fred!"
"She knows us, George!"
"YES, YOU'RE THE TWO LITTLE BOYS WHO LEFT A ZONCO'S ZAPPER ON MY CHAIR WHEN I CAME TO DINNER WITH YOUR BROTHER CHARLIE MANY YEARS AGO."
"THAT WAS YOU?" Gawked the twins. This time their shock was real, and Charity laughed.
"Oh hey!" one of the twins suddenly shouted, "Listen!" A new, very loud, very fast song began (who knew bagpipes could do that!) and there was much jumping and flailing of limbs. The Weasleys began a pulsating conga-line that Charity found herself swept into. They congaed through the middle of the dance floor - picking up dancers as they went, wound around tables, and made their way through the entrance hall and out to the gardens, where thousands of live fairies lit the lawn. The line eventually wound its way back to the dance floor and broke up.
Out of breath, Charity left the dance floor, grabbed another nog, and made her way to the dessert table that had just appeared at one end of the room. She studied the amazing array of sweets as she caught her breath. A large flan was shaped like a dragon. It obviously represented the first challenge, and she wondered if any of the other desserts gave clues as to what the next two tasks would be. The dark figure of Professor Snape was standing near a huge tray of jellied spiders. He was a lean man of moderate height with roughly chiseled features, including a prominent nose that curved down at the end like a hawk's beak. His pale complexion suggested he hadn't seen natural sunlight for a very long time. He was dressed in his typical all-black tonight, but Charity noticed that he was slightly spruced up with a simple satin edging to his jacket and polished copper buttons on his vest.
Charity had not had much interaction with Snape since coming to Hogwarts. His intimidating presence had kept her at her distance, although she'd noticed that he was regarded by the other teachers with grudging respect. He was apparently a very gifted wizard, and it was well known around the castle that Snape was typically at the headmaster's side during matters of importance. As Charity wandered near Snape, filling her plate along the way, he murmured in his deep voice, "Be careful, Miss Burbage, or someone might think you actually like the students."
Charity looked up in some surprise at being directly addressed by him. She smiled, thinking he was joking, but then saw that he was dead serious. Or was his sense of humor that dry?
"Professor Snape, I do like the students," she laughed.
"You weren't hired here to be their friend," he said sternly, peering at her through his curtain of jet black hair, which extended past his chin with a greasy sheen. Was he reprimanding her?
"Oh, was I hired here to be their enemy then? Silly me, I thought I was just supposed to teach them," she said as she reached for one of the spiders. She didn't care how brilliant Snape was, as far as she knew Dumbledore was the only one she had to report to. Snape looked a bit affronted that a junior professor, and especially one so young, would speak to him so tartly, but she wasn't about to lose her point to his cold stare.
"You know, you're the one that ought to be careful," she continued, looking straight at him. "It appears as if you are afraid to like the students." He didn't answer, but she thought she caught the tiniest glint of amusement in his dark eyes (she noticed for the first time that his eyes were as black as his hair) and went on, "Or even worse, that they might like you." He rolled his eyes in disgust at her comment, and Charity found she quite enjoyed getting under Snape's sallow skin. This gave her an idea.
"Professor Snape," she said as she leaned in closer, "I like you." She nodded her sparkly head as he shot her a suspicious look. It was true, although she didn't realize how true until she'd said it out loud. Despite Snape's nasty disposition, she was intrigued by his dangerous dark looks and high intellect. It was time to show him exactly who he was dealing with. "But here's a really bad bit of news for you," she added, "I'm going to make you like me."
Before Snape could say a word, Charity turned on her heel and walked away. When she snuck a peek back, he was still watching her, his mouth slightly agape.