Chapter 39 :

Two days later, the Potterhearts gathered to celebrate their idol's landslide victory.

"To our wonderful Hero and Savior, Harry Potter : cheers !" Called out the Chairwoman Ginny, with a bright smile.

"Cheers !" Answered the many women of all ages, before downing their « non-alcoholic » drink in one go like some kind of partying old drunkards.

"Kuah~ !" Laughed a muscular fifth year with pigtails. "That dragon stood no chance against Harry ! It was like watching a big tomcat playing with a baby lizard !"

"Yeah !" Agreed her smaller friend, still in awe at their idol's prowess. "Harry was so cool ! And he would look so good with cat ears !"

"FURRYYYYY~ !" Squealed a girl in the back in assent.

"Did you understand what he did, though... ?" Asked a shy first year, ashamed that she hadn't been able to comprehend what Harry had done in the stadium. "Or is he too awesome to be understood by mere mortals like us... ?"

"Well, I couldn't hear what he said, but I recognized the first spell he used." Answered the muscular pigtailed girl while patting the head of her junior in reassurance. "It was Accio, a spell used to summon things to oneself. We're learning it in my year."

"Now that I think about it... Did you see where he summoned his stuff from ? Wasn't it from the bleachers ?"

"It came from Theodore Nott." Answered a gloomy Slytherin while downing a whole bottle of the common beverage.

"Girl, you're dead drunk." Deadpanned a Hufflepuff nearby before scolding her. "And stop gobbling it like that ! That drink is only officially « non-alcoholic » !"

"Dead drunk is not drunk enough, you fool !" Ferociously insisted the Slytherin. "They are friends ! Nott is friend with our Harry !"

It was a terrible news she announced there... Alas, most of the Fanclub's members were too wasted to listen.

"So Harry became friend with Theodore Nott ?" Repeated the still somewhat sober Ginny Weasley, sipping her glassful regally. "Why didn't we know this ? External Advisor ?"

"I don't know !" Cursed Hermione in outrage. "Harry asked me to learn some spells to prepare for the Tournament but he kept his plan a secret ! I didn't think he had made new friends behind my back !"

"I knew about it !" Joyfully exclaimed Luna, nursing her pumpkin juice like a baby kitten.

"And you kept it to yourself why ?" Grumbled the older Gryffindor.

"Well." Thought aloud the younger girl, tilting her head confusedly. "Because you didn't ask... ?"


Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory's next meeting came as a surprise for them both. They accidentally crossed path in a corridor when going to class. The problem was : they weren't ready. They weren't ready at all.

They hadn't been outright avoiding each other or anything like that. They did tend to use pathways that they never took before lately, but it was only by happenstance ! Really ! Anyway, they were now standing a few meters apart and it was too late to pretend they weren't. So they hovered in each other's periphery, swaying on their feet as if trying to do something. They didn't even aknowledge each other for the first few minutes, too scared to admit the other's presence near them after what happened the last time. It was all very awkward.

"Hey, Diggory !" Finally greeted Wood after an embarrassingly long moment.

"Hey..." Answered Cedric, losing his voice in the middle of the word.

The poor Hufflepuff was abundantly sweating, his sheer terror nearly tangible.

"You did really good at the tournament !" Continued Wood cheerfully, hidding his hurt at this reaction. "Your idea to transfigure a boulder into a dog and use it as a bait while you sneaked behind the dragon was genius !"

"Th-thanks... ?" Hesitated the younger boy, blushing bright at the compliment. "I got the idea from you actually..."

And then Oliver put his foot in his mouth :

"Ah ! Is that why you kis-"

And Cedric suddenly became weird, forcibly hitting his head against the wall :

"ARGH !" He cried out at the pain, his forehead starting to bleed.

"Wha-... ?"

The poleaxed Gryffindor tried to understand what was going on. He did his best but, alas... the Hogwart Champion was quick to flee the scene, just like he had done the last time :

"-GOTTAGOBYE !"

"Wait... !"


This peaceful atmosphere didn't last more than a single week before it was broken. The unrest came unexpectedly, announced serenely by Headmaster Dumbledore at the end of an evening meal :

"We are all tuckered, so I'll keep it short." He said with a beatific smile. "The Yule Ball will take place on Christmas night in the Great Hall. Only those from -or invited by- fourth years and up will be able to participate. The Champions will of course do us the honor of opening the first dance with their partners, as is traditionally proper."

The silence was instant. No hush, no mutter, no yawn : it was the perfect calm before the storm. Dumbledore chuckled happily.

Ah, Youth... He thought to himself, as if remembering a dear time long gone.

"Well then, let's all get to bed !" He then commanded, leaving with a hum without waiting for everyone's brains to reboot.

It said a lot about him that the Hogwart's staff members were all dumfounded at the news. Even the guest Headmaster and Headmistress were looking at him walking away in aggravation. He apparently hadn't warned anyone about reinstating this tradition in particular.

"Erhm !" Coughed the Deputy-Headmistress McGonagall to get back her bearings. "Let's all do as the Headmaster said : everyone to their Common Room ! And don't stay up beyond curfew !"

She tried to prevent the storm from ever coming, but the student body immediately erupted in shouts of disagreement.

"Christmas is in not even a month !" Cried out someone.

"Where will we find appropriate clothing !?" Panicked another one.

"Where will we find the money in such a short time !?" Despaired a pratical boy. "I didn't become a student to suscribe to a debt !"

"Merlin's balls !" Cursed a girl to high heaven. "I don't even know how to ask for the salt ! How am I supposed to ask someone on a date for a ball !?"

It was a cacophony of anger, pain, hope, fear and teenage hormones. And it set the pitch for weeks to come : an all-out War with no holds barred.


AN : Yep, it's totally Dumbles that forgot about the ball ! It has totally nothing to do with me !