Chapter 24

TABLES

As Harry and his three fellow Gryffindors descended the stairs to the packed entry hall, he saw that Hogwarts's regulation black had transformed into a sea of color. He caught sight of Parvati in plum and her sister Padma in peach, arm-in-arm with two good-looking boys he recognized as the Ravenclaw beaters. At least the Patil twins would have a better time this year than they'd had with Ron and him last year.

With Hermione still clutching his elbow, Harry led his friends through the throng. He averted his eyes when he saw Wilhelm Avery with Pansy Parkington, though he was pleased at the thought Draco Malfoy might be coming to the Ball alone. When he saw Barden, he suppressed a grin. The husky Hufflepuff was whispering non-stop into his equally tall date's ear, hugging her to keep her from collapsing in giggles. Then Harry did a double take when he recognized Millicent's brown eyes. Nothing else about her looked the same. Her skin was smooth, her features delicate and her teeth even.

Catching his eye, she called out, "Potter! Hear you're stuck here for Christmas."

Harry shrugged and nodded.

"I'll be making the rounds of my aunts in the highlands—kind of a hag's holiday. Could you look after my cat? He hates riding on a broom."

At the word hag, Ron's lips became an Oh. Obviously, he'd just realized that the tall, attractive girl was Millicent.

"No problem," Harry called back. "When you leave, just send Bête Noire on over."

"Thanks!" She winked. "And tell Weasley he can close his mouth now."

Reddening, Ron did an about-face for the door. Angelina had to hurry to catch up. As Harry tagged after them with Hermione, he wondered whether Millicent's change was permanent or just for the dance.

Nearing the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry found Professor McGonagall wearing the same red tartan she'd worn the year before.

At his season's greetings, she retorted, "Don't dawdle. Move along."

Obeying his housemistress, Harry followed his friends into the Yule Ball. The glory of a Hogwarts Christmas no longer astounded him. Instead, Harry found the towering, garlanded, bejeweled Christmas trees—each decorated in a different style—comforting. The stage that would hold the musicians sparkled with icicles and candles.

Above his schoolmates' appreciative murmurs, Harry caught a whirling noise. Looking up, he saw dozens of snowflakes dancing under the star-spangled ceiling. Four broke away and zigzagged toward them. One lacy crystal singled him out. As it hovered in front of him, silver letters appeared in the center: Harry Potter, follow me.

The usual four long house tables had given way to twenty-five round ones, decked with poinsettia-red and holly-green tablecloths and sporting lavish ice sculptures. As Harry trailed his magical place card, he kept his eyes open for which group of Gryffindors they'd be joining. Instead, the snowflake led them to a half-dozen students he'd never met before. When he identified two as Slytherins, he wondered if there had been some mistake. Then their magical place cards lit on four empty seats and melted from sight. Dutifully pulling out Hermione's chair, Harry glanced curiously at the two waist-high stools next to it. Who could they be for?

Hagrid waved to him from the High Table, then resumed his fond study of Madame Maxime's blushing face. The Beauxbatons headmistress, resplendent in red and black, had come all the way from France. Clearly, she'd forgiven Hagrid his impolitic question about whether she had giant's blood from her mother's side or her father's. (Harry had always thought the answer to that one a bit self-evident.) Headmaster Dumbledore, his head bare, nodded along with an animated Madame Pomfrey. Next to her, Professor Flitwick stared straight up, apparently counting how many enchanted place cards still swirled overhead. Watching him, Harry recalled his first year at Hogwarts—the winged keys the Charms master had devised to complicate the journey to the philosopher's stone.

The philosopher's stone, Harry repeated to himself nostalgically, an adventure of his younger years, when he could still meet a challenge, before he'd lost his edge.

With a sigh, Harry turned to Hermione. As her escort, he was supposed to chat. He saw her staring across the hall.

"Stunning," she murmured, then nudged him.

Following her gaze, Harry caught sight of Professor Daine wearing silver as diaphanous as cobwebs. Stunning was right. As she drifted graciously from table to table, Harry saw that her gown was not just silver but iridescent, displaying a different shade of the rainbow every time she moved.

Reaching the door, Professor Daine stopped and bent low. When she shifted, Harry saw that she was talking to a pair of elves.

"I can't believe it!" Hermione said excitedly. "Winky's changed her clothes!"

Indeed, Winky was wearing a frilly flowered shirt that looked like it was actually clean. The crowd shifted and Harry saw a new pink tutu encircling her waist, sticking out nearly as far as her stubby arms. On one leg a green stocking rose to her thigh, and on the other a white ruffled sock exposed a dimpled knee. A straw hat festooned with ribbons perched on her head.

Next to her, Dobby seemed almost unobtrusive in a striped waistcoat that hung to his ankles, mismatched socks and a child-sized sombrero.

When Professor Daine began walking the pair toward their table, Harry whispered, "Now we know whom the stools are for."

Hermione grinned.

Nearing them, the professor smiled back. "I believe you all know each other."

Dobby grabbed Winky around the waist and, with a mighty swing, hoisted her to her stool. Harry forced himself to keep a straight face as the tiny elf made three attempts before successfully perching himself next to his date. "Great to see you two," he said.

After a minute of exuberant greetings, the elves lost themselves in open-mouthed awe of the marvels around them.

Hermione whispered to the professor, "I never would have believed it. This is all due to you."

"And Severus," Professor Daine whispered while slowly surveying the hall.

"Yeah, well," Harry said doubtfully. Then he looked at the elves again. "I knew you'd worked a change in Winky, but this is nothing short of—"

"—miraculous," Hermione finished.

"When you help someone see she has the right to pursue happiness, you never know how far it will lead."

Harry noticed the pair from Slytherin staring at the elves, their expressions curious but not disdainful. When Dobby smiled at them, the boy offered his hand to shake. Professor Daine drifted over to make introductions, then glided off to another table.

"The professor was in charge of seating," Hermione breathed at Harry's ear. "When she told me all four houses would be mixed at each table, I wasn't looking forward to an evening with Slytherins. But those two don't seem that bad."

When Ron and Angelina returned panting from the dance floor, Harry and Hermione were engrossed in their first friendly supper chat ever with schoolmates from Slytherin. Harry looked up to see Ron's eyes widening at Winky's attire. Mastering himself, his friend said, "Uh, Winky. You look charming. Are you having fun?"

The elf launched into a rapture of superlatives that lasted until Professor Dumbledore rapped his knuckles on the High Table for everyone's attention. "Once more we come together to celebrate the season of birth and rebirth. A time of peace and good will to all men—"

"And women," Hermione whispered.

"And women." Dumbledore winked as if he'd heard her. "A time when the most powerful spells can be cast by hope, trust and commitment—when the greatest magic of all can be found in compassion, open-mindedness and good fellowship." The headmaster beamed at the assembly over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. "Of such a night are memories made. Let the feasting begin."

The Great Hall burst into applause. In the midst of the clapping, hors d'oeuvres appeared on the golden platters gracing the middle of each table.

"Stuffed mushrooms!" Winky chirped. "We made these! Try them! Try them."

Everyone began helping each other to Winky's mushrooms, as well as generous samplings of roasted chestnuts, Stilton cheese, mince pies, cranberry buns, pickled pumpkin, and Wassail. And new courses kept coming. Soon the combination of scrumptious food and end-of-term good cheer sparked friendly conversations all over. Harry compared the latest racing brooms with Kier Falconbrook, the aristocratic-looking sixth-year Slytherin, while Hermione discussed Arithmancy with his incredibly thin date, Vivian Innis. Harry was just thinking how alike the two houses were after all when something happened that recalled their differences: Snape arrived.

Catching sight of him, Vivian sighed. "Doesn't he look handsome tonight."

Harry shot Ron a warning look, and his friend mimed zipping his lips. Angelina stifled her giggle. Harry tried to meet Hermione's eyes to keep her from staring rudely at their supper companions' housemaster. Then she murmured, "He does."

Skeptical, Harry glanced at Snape again. Granted, the professor had washed his hair and his robe looked reasonably appropriate—black, as usual, but with a faint sheen, pulled back at the shoulders by jade and silver studs. Yet the supercilious sneer thinning his lips looked the same.

Suddenly, the last snowflake name card dive-bombed Snape from the enchanted ceiling. Startled, he swatted it, then stared as it smashed on the floor. Harry pretended to cough to keep from snickering as Snape, raising his pointed chin, strode to the High Table and the only seat left—next to Professor Daine.

Poor thing, Harry said to himself as goose gristle, squab bones and olive pits disappeared off his plate, and sugarplums, chocolate truffles, fig pudding, marzipan, and other sweets appeared on the serving platters. Just like Snape to consider himself above enjoying the grandest feast of the year, to make an appearance at the very end. Professor Daine greeted him warmly, but Harry put that down to her generous nature. Snape looked tense as he chose a strawberry tart and offered it to her. He trained his cold eyes on her until she picked up her fork and began to eat.

"Hermione, let's dance," Harry said.

Her gaze slid over to Ron before she smiled and nodded. "I thought you'd never ask."

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