The Yule Ball is a time-honored tradition, filled with beauty, grace, scandal, and spectacle. The Yule Ball of 1994 was most definitely filled with all of those things, though admittedly more of the latter two than its organizers would have preferred.
Everything seemed to be going swimmingly at first. Professor McGonagall especially was pleased to note that she was winning the betting pool for who would go with whom. Honestly, it was baffling. Had none of the other professors seen the way that Susan Bones watched Neville Longbottom like a hawk? Severus already owed her seven galleons, and barely half of the students had arrived.
Things only began to go sideways when Mr. Krum arrived, accompanied by a particularly dashing redhead. George Weasley was wearing robes that matched Mr. Krum's reasonably well, and fawning over his date in an alarmingly accurate parody of the quidditch star's fan girls. Quite frankly, Minerva was surprised that the boy wasn't wearing a dress. But she still leaned over toward Severus, "And that makes ten galleons."
The man was too busy trying to remember how to re-hinge his jaw to snark back.
The Gryffindor head of house made her way forward. "Champions and your dates, this way please. Yes, that's it, we'll line up here."
Miss Delacour was accompanied by Roger Davies, and by the look of it, already regretted that choice. The Ravenclaw was boasting incessantly—honestly, you'd think the girl would've picked someone with a stronger tolerance for her charms. Or at least a Gryffindor. Not that Minerva was biased, of course.
Cedric Diggory was accompanied by Miss Cho Chang, which was a good choice. Miss Chang was a hardworking and bright, if somewhat reserved student. She was also fairly graceful, which would make the opening dance much easier for them.
As for Mr. Potter, well, Mr. Potter was late. Was the good professor surprised? Not even remotely. Frankly, she would be more surprised if the boy showed up at all. If it had been anyone else, Minerva would have been rather displeased with the disrespect and lack of consideration shown toward the traditions of the tournament. But Harry Potter, well, he somehow always ended up in situations like this. Tradition had gone out the window the second that a fourth name had risen from the goblet, and honestly the tournament had been worse for him than he had been for it.
"We'll do this alphabetically by school, if you would be so kind. Miss Delacour, then Mr. Krum, then Mr. Diggory." She instructed the champions.
"But Professor, what about Potter?" Diggory asked with a furrowed brow.
"Mr. Diggory, the tournament has survived having only three champions to open the Yule Ball for hundreds of years. I imagine it will survive one more." She said pointedly, and the boy flushed.
She checked her watch to see that they had precisely six minutes before the doors would open for the champions' procession. Well, with so little time, she could hardly be blamed for not alerting the officials that Mr. Potter was not in attendance. What a shame. She turned to address the students once more, but was prevented from speaking by the arrival of a rather large bouquet of flowers. In her face.
"Hello, Professor!" The voice of Fred Weasley said cheerfully. "I got these for you—after all, how could Hogwarts' most dazzling dame be the only one without a flower to her name?"
"Mr. Weasley, if you so much as think to call me a 'dame'—or make another rhyme," She added hastily as the cheeky boy's mouth opened, "I will rescind my gracious offer of one dance, and you will be spending the evening scrubbing the trophy room instead."
The boy raised one hand in surrender, but still held the bouquet toward her with the other one. She sighed. "And… thank you for the flowers." The redhead beamed, and Minerva was distressed to note that his dress robes were a perfect match to hers. That insolent twit. Hopefully no one would notice until much, much later.
"Erm, Professor?" Diggory's voice interrupted, uncharacteristically tentative.
"Yes, what's the matter-" She turned, and the words died in her throat as she saw Roger Davies breaking into hives. She looked at the bouquet in her hands and then back at the boy who had given it to her. "Weasley, what is in this?"
He blinked. "Er, I had Longbottom help me, well, theme it, I guess. It's got more catnip, cat's claw, cat's grass-"
"Cat's grass." The now heavily-sweating and distinctly uncomfortable-looking Ravenclaw boy gasped out. "I'm allergic to cat's grass."
Minerva quickly handed the bouquet back to Weasley and turned to the boy. "Anapneo," She cast, followed quickly by "Egritudo. Alright, that first one will keep your airway clear at least until you make it to the hospital wing. You're having a severe allergic reaction."
"But what about the ball?" The boy gasped out.
"Madame Pomfrey will have you in and out in three quarters of an hour, if you go now. If I could treat you with just spells, I would, but, reactions such as this require potions treatment." She sent off a quick note with a charm. "Professor Flitwick will accompany you to ensure you arrive safely." And sure enough, the diminutive professor was there in a flash to escort his student to the hospital wing.
Miss Delacour, who had up until that point been holding herself with remarkable poise considering the condition of her date, became distressed as she realized that she was now dateless, and had approximately ninety seconds until all three schools and a large section of the wizarding press saw her dateless state as well. "Professor, what shall I do? Zhe doors weell open in just a minute, but I cannot perform an opening waltz alone!"
Minerva was proud to say that her eye only twitched once when she realized the obvious solution. "Weasley, I trust you've been practicing in preparation for our dance?" She asked Fred flatly.
"For you? Every day." The boy wiggled his eyebrows.
She ignored it. "Excellent. Then I trust you shall have no difficulties in partnering Miss Delacour for the opening of the ball, considering you are the one who removed her date from her?"
The boy gulped, and seemed to be about to protest, but at Minerva's glare he nodded and promptly held out his arm to Miss Delacour. To the girl's credit, she only side-eyed him for a moment before taking it. She hesitated before speaking, "Professor, could you possibly do somezhing to 'is robes? If you are zhe one to announce us, I zhink it will be quite, uh, obvious, who 'e is actually matching."
So that little detail had been picked up. Hmm. The professor nodded, and with a few waves of her wand, Fred's robes were a lovely navy blue with silver accents that perfectly matched Miss Delacour's dress and various accessories. Minerva paused, and then turned to the other two couples. With their permission, she made similar but much smaller modifications to each of them in turn. George now matched Mr. Krum perfectly, his robes an inverted version of the Bulgarian's red and black, with some medium grey accents now mixed on the both of them to soften up the otherwise harsh ensembles. Mr. Diggory and Miss Chang needed the least work, but even they were now better matched. His shirt was now the same cream as Miss Chang's dress, rather than the harsh white which had been clashing previously, and Miss Chang was now wearing pearl earrings in a dark setting, which pulled in the black of Mr. Diggory's robes ever-so-slightly.
Overall, Minerva was quite pleased with her handiwork. "Alright, back in line, and I expect you to conduct yourselves with decorum. All of you." She added, glaring at the Weasleys. They saluted her, and she granted them a small smile. "And have fun."
Then the music began, the doors opened, and the evening officially began. Minerva strode in, cleared her throat, and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, the champions and their escorts!"
As soon as Miss Delacour and the first Weasley entered, the whispers began. "Who'd Delacour bring?"
"Is it a Beauxbatons?"
"I bet it's a Slytherin!"
"No, it's a… Weasley?"
"It's two Weasleys!" Viktor and Fred had entered at that point.
"Bloody hell, why are they everywhere."
"Is he gay?"
"Of course not, it's the twins. It's probably a prank."
"At least Diggory brought a real date." And then all three pairs were there.
"Yeah, she's his girlfriend. If he didn't bring her, he'd probably wish he was back with the dragon."
"Wait, where's Potter?"
"Is he behind Diggory?"
"No, look, McGonagall closed the doors."
"Did he skip?"
"Huh, McGonagall's gonna kill him."
The champions made their way through the crowd and took their seats and the front table, finishing the entrance procession. Two seats were very conspicuously empty, however. Minerva sat next to Albus, who turned to her with a smile, but for once no twinkling eyes. "Ah, Minerva! It seems that we have misplaced one of our champions. Did I miss your note?"
She looked at him with a raised brow. "No, I didn't get a chance to send one. There was a rather distracting incident involving Miss Delacour's original date, Roger Davies, and cat grass. He is apparently very allergic."
"That does sound like quite the story. And Mr. Potter, is he also in the hospital wing?"
"Quite frankly, Albus, I've no idea where Mr. Potter is." That was a small lie, Minerva actually had a strong suspicion that Harry was at either the Lovegood or Granger residence. But what Albus didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
"Ah. I'm sure we will locate him as the evening goes on. Well, as the muggles say, the show must go on!" Albus waved his hand, and the extra two chairs at the head table disappeared. He rose and cast sonorous on himself. "Hello everyone, and welcome to the Yule Ball! After we have all been fed and watered, our illustrious champions will have the first dance, after which the floor will be open to everyone! The dance ends at midnight, and you are all expected to be comfortably ensconced in your dormitories by 1:00 am. Without further ado, dig in!"
Then he sat down, cancelled the sonorous, and very clearly said. "Pork chops." When the food appeared on his plate, the others in the hall began doing the same thing.
Surprisingly, dinner and the first dance both went off without any further difficulties. Mr. Davies did not quite make it back in time to accompany Miss Delacour in the opening dance, but Fred Weasley proved to be more than proficient. It seemed that he actually had been practicing. Indeed, it wasn't until a few songs into the dance that things began to go downhill again.
A rather stereotypically sweet and slow love song came on, and the lighting changed to soft pinks and reds. Two spotlights appeared, one on Fred Weasley and the other on Professor McGonagall herself. The grinning Gryffindor approached his head of house and swept into a deep bow, his right hand held out in an offer. "Milady, may I have the pleasure of this dance?"
Minerva hid her smile behind a long-suffering sigh. "Very well, Mr. Weasley. I gave you my word."
She took his hand and, amid a cacophony of wolf whistles, cat calls, and various hoots and hollers from the rest of the student body, they took to the floor.
Minerva half-expected the song to suddenly change to something ridiculously fast, or for Fred to do something else absurd, but he did not. The song continued to play, and Fred proved to be an excellent dance partner. "Mr. Weasley, if you paid half as much attention in my lectures as you apparently paid in the dancing lessons, you would be top of your year."
"Why Professor, if you wanted to compliment my dancing, you could just say so directly!" The redhead wiggled his eyebrows.
"I think not—your head already needs shrinking solution."
"Ouch. Shot through heart, Minnie"
Minerva turned sharply to scold him for the nickname, but before she could do so she was distracted by the sound of glass shattering and teenagers screaming. She turned toward the source of the sound, the windows on the left side of the hall, only to be greeted by… a giant tentacle arm. A giant tentacle arm wearing a corsage made of very familiar plant matter.
"Weasley."
"…Yes Professor?"
"Why has the giant squid taken residence next to the punch bowl?"
"Er, well, you see, that's a funny story, and George tells it quite well—"
"Spit. It. Out."
"…She might be upset that I stood her up for a veela?"
The following morning, Harry looked at the Daily Prophet and did a double take. Then he looked again just to be certain. "Hermione, I was right!" He called to his friend in the other room.
"About what?"
"They didn't put me skipping on the front page—I don't even think that it was mentioned in the article, actually."
"What? Then what did they cover?" She asked as she entered the kitchen.
Wordlessly, Harry handed her the paper.
Beauty and the Beast—and the Transfiguration Professor!
What do part veela champions, giant squids, and cat animagi have in common? Apparently a thing for redheads, as the Hogwarts population found out last night…
Below the headline was three pictures, each more puzzling than the last. The first was of Fred and Fleur entering the ball in matching robes; the second of Fred and McGonagall dancing and McGonagall actually looking happy about it; and the third picture was of McGonagall and Fleur dueling the squid, who was holding Fred captive in one tentacle, had a piece of cake in the other, and was wearing a punch bowl like a helmet.
"…I'm going to pretend this never existed." Hermione muttered.
"Really? I'm ordering 10 extra copies."
A/N: My sincerest apologies for my disappearance-all I can say is, don't take 22 credits while working and trying to do clubs. You will never sleep. But I'm back now, and it's summer so we'll go back to weekly or biweekly updates. I haven't fully decided yet, but I'll probably go back onto a Friday schedule. Or maybe Mondays. Actually, do y'all have a preference?
Also, I am extraordinarily pleased with this chapter. Did anything important happen in terms of plot? Hell no. Does McGonagall saving Fred from the giant squid get funnier every time I imagine it? HELL YES.
Let me know what you think, or if there are any ideas you'd like me to try to incorporate. See you next week!