“She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn’t even answer. And then—I dunno—I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it.”
“She’s part veela,” said Harry. “You were right—her grandmother was one. It wasn’t your fault, I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it—but she was wasting her time. He’s going with Cho Chang.”
Ron looked up.
“I asked her to go with me just now,” Harry said dully, “and she told me.”
Ginny had suddenly stopped smiling.
“This is mad,” said Ron. “We’re the only ones left who haven’t got anyone—well, except Neville. Hey—guess who he asked? Hermione!”
“What?” said Harry, completely distracted by this startling news.
“Yeah, I know!” said Ron, some of the color coming back into his face as he started to laugh. “He told me after Potions! Said she’s always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff—but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn’t want to go with Neville… I mean, who would?”
“Don’t!” said Ginny, annoyed. “Don’t laugh—”
Just then Hermione climbed in through the portrait hole.
“Why weren’t you two at dinner?” she said, coming over to join them.
“Because—oh shut up laughing, you two—because they’ve both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!” said Ginny.
That shut Harry and Ron up.
“Thanks a bunch, Ginny,” said Ron sourly.
“All the good looking ones taken, Ron?” said Hermione loftily. “Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone somewhere who’ll have you.”
But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.
“Hermione, Neville’s right—you are a girl…”
“Oh well spotted,” she said acidly.
“Well—you can come with one of us!”
“No, I can’t,” snapped Hermione.
“Oh come on,” he said impatiently, “we need partners, we’re going to look really stupid if we haven’t got any, everyone else has…”
“I can’t come with you,” said Hermione, now blushing, “because I’m already going with someone.”
“No, you’re not!” said Ron. “You just said that to get rid of Neville!”
“Oh did I?” said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. “Just because it’s taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn’t mean no one else has spotted I’m a girl!”
Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.
“Okay, okay, we know you’re a girl,” he said. “That do? Will you come now?”
“I’ve already told you!” Hermione said very angrily. “I’m going with someone else!” And she stormed off toward the girls’ dormitories again.
“She’s lying,” said Ron flatly, watching her go.
“She’s not,” said Ginny quietly.
“Who is it then?” said Ron sharply.
“I’m not telling you, it’s her business,” said Ginny.
“Right,” said Ron, who looked extremely put out, “this is getting stupid. Ginny, you can go with Harry, and I’ll just—”
“I can’t,” said Ginny, and she went scarlet too. “I’m going with—with Neville. He asked me when Hermione said no, and I thought… well… I’m not going to be able to go otherwise, I’m not in fourth year.” She looked extremely miserable. “I think I’ll go and have dinner,” she said, and she got up and walked off to the portrait hole, her head bowed.
Ron goggled at Harry.
“What’s got into them?” he demanded.
But Harry had just seen Parvati and Lavender come in through the portrait hole. The time had come for drastic action.
“Wait here,” he said to Ron, and he stood up, walked straight up to Parvati, and said, “Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?”
Parvati went into a fit of giggles. Harry waited for them to subside, his fingers crossed in the pocket of his robes.
“Yes, all right then,” she said finally, blushing furiously.
“Thanks,” said Harry, in relief. “Lavender—will you go with Ron?”
“She’s going with Seamus,” said Parvati, and the pair of them giggled harder than ever.
Harry sighed.
“Can’t you think of anyone who’d go with Ron?” he said, lowering his voice so that Ron wouldn’t hear.
“What about Hermione Granger?” said Parvati.
“She’s going with someone else.”
Parvati looked astonished.
“Ooooh—who?” she said keenly.
Harry shrugged. “No idea,” he said. “So what about Ron?”
“Well…” said Parvati slowly, “I suppose my sister might… Padma, you know… in Ravenclaw. I’ll ask her if you like.”
“Yeah, that would be great,” said Harry. “Let me know, will you?”
And he went back over to Ron, feeling that this ball was a lot more trouble than it was worth, and hoping very much that Padma Patil’s nose was dead center.
23. THE YULE BALL
Despite the very heavy load of homework that the fourth years had been given for the holidays, Harry was in no mood to work when term ended, and spent the week leading up to Christmas enjoying himself as fully as possible along with everyone else. Gryffindor Tower was hardly less crowded now than during term time; it seemed to have shrunk slightly too, as its inhabitants were being so much rowdier than usual. Fred and George had had a great success with their Canary Creams, and for the first couple of days of the holidays, people kept bursting into feather all over the place. Before long, however, all the Gryffindors had learned to treat food anybody else offered them with extreme caution, in case it had a Canary Cream concealed in the center, and George confided to Harry that he and Fred were now working on developing something else. Harry made a mental note never to accept so much as a crisp from Fred and George in future. He still hadn’t forgotten Dudley and the Ton-Tongue Toffee.
Snow was falling thickly upon the castle and its grounds now. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid’s cabin, while the Durmstrang ship’s portholes were glazed with ice, the rigging white with frost. The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savory puddings, and only Fleur Delacour seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.
“It is too ’eavy, all zis ’Ogwarts food,” they heard her saying grumpily as they left the Great Hall behind her one evening (Ron skulking behind Harry, keen not to be spotted by Fleur). “I will not fit into my dress robes!”
“Oooh there’s a tragedy,” Hermione snapped as Fleur went out into the entrance hall. “She really thinks a lot of herself, that one, doesn’t she?”
“Hermione—who are you going to the ball with?” said Ron.
He kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she least expected it. However, Hermione merely frowned and said, “I’m not telling you, you’ll just make fun of me.”
“You’re joking, Weasley!” said Malfoy, behind them. “You’re not telling me someone’s asked that to the ball? Not the long molared Mudblood?”
Harry and Ron both whipped around, but Hermione said loudly, waving to somebody over Malfoy’s shoulder, “Hello, Professor Moody!”
Malfoy went pale and jumped backward, looking wildly around for Moody, but he was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.
“Twitchy little ferret, aren’t you, Malfoy?” said Hermione scathingly, and she, Harry, and Ron went up the marble staircase laughing heartily.
“Hermione,” said Ron, looking sideways at her, suddenly frowning, “your teeth…”
“What about them?” she said.
“Well, they’re different… I’ve just noticed…”
“Of course they are—did you expect me to keep those fangs Malfoy gave me?”