Chapter 103
Everyone was surprised, on the morning of the 10th when, after breakfast, the majority of students reported to the Transfiguration room to find it cleared of everything except a large phonograph on a small table, manned by Mr Filch and Mrs. Norris and Professor McGonagall already waiting for them. Professor McGonagall directed them to split into rows of girls and boys, one on one side, and one on the other before she spoke.
"Now first, I want to thank you for being the first students to attend this class, and putting your weekend activities on hold until later, as Saturday is not usually a day of classes, we had to adjust the schedule accordingly, and I'm sure you are all wondering what this class is about," Professor McGonagall said and a murmur of agreement went through the room, and she held up her hands to for silence before she continued.
"I am also sure that you are wondering why your supply list this year required formal robes, particularly that of younger students," Professor McGonagall said. "Many older students are aware of their use, but this year, all Hogwarts students were required to have them. This decision was made largely in part of the fact that Hogwarts was chosen to host the Triwizard Tournament."
Hermione shifted, somewhat uneasily at the mention of this.
"The Yule Ball has been a tradition of -" Professor McGonagall began to explain and turned to glare at Mr Filch as he fiddled with the phonograph, causing static. "- the Triwizard Tournament since its inception," she finished, stepping away from the phonograph.
"On Christmas Eve night," she continued, "we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. And I mean this literally, because the Yule Ball is, first and foremost a dance."
A wave of excitement went through Hermione as the others around her chatted about this news. She had been the first one even asked to attend! Then, just as quickly as it had come, the feeling left her as she remembered the fight with Viktor and Oliver, and she wondered if Viktor hadn't already asked someone else after her obvious rejection, and again, she wondered if she should even care. Still, this was new information, and she always liked hearing new things, so when Professor McGonagall once again called for silence and attention, she was rapt.
"The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly 10 centuries," Professor McGonagall scolded them. "I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons."
Hermione glanced over and saw the twins whispering to each other and could only guess what they were talking about from the grins on their faces before she turned back to Professor McGonagall, trying to ignore them.
"Now, to dance is to let the body breathe," Professor McGonagall continued. "Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight. Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance. Mr Weasley," she called when she heard whispering and laughter.
"Yes?" Ron asked, looking up at her fearfully.
"Will you join me, please?" Professor McGonagall asked, holding out her hand. She didn't wait for a response and Hermione chuckled to herself as she watched the Professor pull him to his feet by the shoulder of his jumper and direct him to the middle of the room. "Now," Professor McGonagall continued, "place your right hand on my waist."
"Where?" Ron asked, trying to keep his voice low, but it carried through the room revealing his anxiety and alarm.
"On my waist," Professor McGonagall directed.
Hermione bit her lip from laughing aloud when the twins whistled as Ron moved closer to Professor McGonagall. She knew without asking that they weren't going to let him live this down and were truly relishing in their brother's humiliation.
"And extend your arm," Professor McGonagall continued, reaching out and grabbing Ron's hand, placing it back on her waist when he jumped away. "Mr Filch if you please," she called and Mr Filch started the phonograph, the record playing a waltz. "One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three," Professor McGonagall counted, keeping time with the music and steps as she directed Ron in the steps of the ballroom dance. "Everybody come together!" she called out and the girls dutifully rose to their feet, the boys however did not. "Boys, on your feet!" Professor McGonagall called, but still, only Neville seemed brave enough to do so.
Hermione sighed inwardly, it seemed that she was not going to be able to get out of this after Professor McGonagall's speech, and she began to fret about whether or not Viktor had indeed asked someone else after she had confronted him about the mix-up with the letters from Oliver, and she wondered if she'd made a mistake in behaving so rashly.
"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Ginny said later when Hermione expressed her uneasiness. "I haven't seen him talk to anyone else, besides, you're forgetting that he didn't tell you anything either. You're still mad at him aren't you?"
"Yes," Hermione replied, angrily. "He had plenty of opportunities to come clean."
"Well then, make him grovel..." Ginny said. "Don't decide on anything yet. There's still time, someone else could ask you."
"That's true I guess," Hermione said. "But I already said I'd go with him."
"That's the perks of being a girl, Hermione," Ginny said. "You can always change your mind, at least that's what my mum always says."
Hermione sighed. Maybe Ginny was right. Maybe she should wait and see if someone else asked her.
Oliver exhaled heavily and growled in frustration at the note he'd received from Viktor. Apparently he wasn't the only one Hermione was shutting out as she thought about things. In his latest letter, Viktor had told him that Hermione now seemed to avoid the library where he usually had found her, and that they hadn't spoken since the day that she'd learned of the mix-up in the owl post and confronted him, demanding the letter that had been meant for her.
"What now?" Williams asked, looking over from his locker as they got ready for practice.
"More girl trouble," Greene replied with a knowing grin.
"No," Oliver replied. "Well, yes, not really... I don't know!"
"Let me see," Freya asked, coming over, for once without the protest of the men as they'd already geared up for the practice match. She came over and plucked the note out of his hand.
"What is it?" Ella asked.
"Hmm, seems Hermione's not forgiven them," Freya replied.
"You expected her to?" Wilda asked.
"Well, it has been several days, and no letter to Ollie," Freya answered with a pout.
"So if there's no letter from Hermione to Oliver who's that from?" Maggie asked.
"Viktor Krum," Freya replied. "I guess she's been avoiding him too."
"Just tell him to wait," Wilda replied. "And not to ask anyone else."
With a nod Oliver took out a quill and parchment and scrawled a quick note, sending it back with the waiting owl.
"This is so frustrating," Oliver groused. "They expect me to fix everything when I'm nearly a thousand kilometres away!"
"Well, no one to blame but yourself, there, mate," Green said. "You did that before we even met ya."
"Yeah, I know," Oliver groused.
"We all know you meant well, Ollie," Freya said, sitting next to him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "And Wilda's right, he's just going to have to wait it out."
"Come on," Oliver said. "We'd better get going. Don't want the coach to be mad at us for being late again."
"Yeah, and maybe you can keep your head on the game for once," Green said with a grin and dodged as Oliver threw a towel at him, before wrapping his arm around Oliver's neck and dragging him toward the door.