It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Harry thought, revolving slowly on the spot (Parvati was steering). He kept his eyes fixed over the heads of the watching people, and very soon many of them too had come onto the dance floor, so that the champions were no longer the center of attention. Neville and Ginny were dancing nearby—he could see Ginny wincing frequently as Neville trod on her feet—and Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large. Mad-Eye Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.
“Nice socks, Potter,” Moody growled as he passed, his magical eye staring through Harry’s robes.
“Oh—yeah, Dobby the house-elf knitted them for me,” said Harry, grinning.
“He is so creepy!” Parvati whispered as Moody clunked away. “I don’t think that eye should be allowed.”
Harry heard the final, quavering note from the bagpipe with relief. The Weird Sisters stopped playing, applause filled the hall once more, and Harry let go of Parvati at once.
“Let’s sit down, shall we?”
“Oh—but—this is a really good one!” Parvati said as the Weird Sisters struck up a new song, which was much faster.
“No, I don’t like it,” Harry lied, and he led her away from the dance floor, past Fred and Angelina, who were dancing so exhuberantly that people around them were backing away in fear of injury, and over to the table where Ron and Padma were sitting.
“How’s it going?” Harry asked Ron, sitting down and opening a bottle of butterbeer.
Ron didn’t answer. He was glaring at Hermione and Krum, who were dancing nearby. Padma was sitting with her arms and legs crossed, one foot jiggling in time to the music. Every now and then she threw a disgruntled look at Ron, who was completely ignoring her. Parvati sat down on Harry’s other side, crossed her arms and legs too, and within minutes was asked to dance by a boy from Beauxbatons.
“You don’t mind, do you, Harry?” Parvati said.
“What?” said Harry, who was now watching Cho and Cedric.
“Oh—never mind,” snapped Parvati, and she went off with the boy from Beauxbatons. When the song ended, she did not return.
Hermione came over and sat down in Parvati’s empty chair. She was a bit pink in the face from dancing.
“Hi,” said Harry. Ron didn’t say anything.
“It’s hot, isn’t it?” said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. “Viktor’s just gone to get some drinks.”
Ron gave her a withering look. “Viktor?” he said. “Hasn’t he asked you to call him Vicky yet?”
Hermione looked at him in surprise. “What’s up with you?” she said.
“If you don’t know,” said Ron scathingly, “I’m not going to tell you.”
Hermione stared at him, then at Harry, who shrugged.
“Ron, what—?”
“He’s from Durmstrang!” spat Ron. “He’s competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You—you’re—” Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione’s crime, “fraternizing with the enemy, that’s what you’re doing!”
Hermione’s mouth fell open.
“Don’t be so stupid!” she said after a moment. “The enemy! Honestly—who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who’s got a model of him up in their dormitory?”
Ron chose to ignore this. “I s’pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?”
“Yes, he did,” said Hermione, the pink patches on her cheeks glowing more brightly. “So what?”
“What happened—trying to get him to join spew, were you?”
“No, I wasn’t! If you really want to know, he—he said he’d been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn’t been able to pluck up the courage!”
Hermione said this very quickly, and blushed so deeply that she was the same color as Parvati’s robes.
“Yeah, well—that’s his story,” said Ron nastily.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Obvious, isn’t it? He’s Karkaroff’s student, isn’t he? He knows who you hang around with… He’s just trying to get closer to Harry—get inside information on him—or get near enough to jinx him—”
Hermione looked as though Ron had slapped her. When she spoke, her voice quivered.
“For your information, he hasn’t asked me one single thing about Harry, not one—”
Ron changed tack at the speed of light.
“Then he’s hoping you’ll help him find out what his egg means! I suppose you’ve been putting your heads together during those cozy little library sessions—”
“I’d never help him work out that egg!” said Hermione, looking outraged. “Never. How could you say something like that—I want Harry to win the tournament. Harry knows that, don’t you, Harry?”
“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” sneered Ron.
“This whole tournament’s supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!” said Hermione hotly.
“No it isn’t!” shouted Ron. “It’s about winning!”
People were starting to stare at them.
“Ron,” said Harry quietly, “I haven’t got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum—”
But Ron ignored Harry too.
“Why don’t you go and find Vicky, he’ll be wondering where you are,” said Ron.
“Don’t call him Vicky!”
Hermione jumped to her feet and stormed off across the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd. Ron watched her go with a mixture of anger and satisfaction on his face.
“Are you going to ask me to dance at all?” Padma asked him.
“No,” said Ron, still glaring after Hermione.
“Fine,” snapped Padma, and she got up and went to join Parvati and the Beauxbatons boy, who conjured up one of his friends to join them so fast that Harry could have sworn he had zoomed him there by a Summoning Charm.
“Vare is Herm own ninny?” said a voice.
Krum had just arrived at their table clutching two butterbeers.
“No idea,” said Ron mulishly, looking up at him. “Lost her, have you?”
Krum was looking surly again.
“Veil, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks,” he said, and he slouched off.
“Made friends with Viktor Krum, have you, Ron?”
Percy had bustled over, rubbing his hands together and looking extremely pompous.
“Excellent! That’s the whole point, you know—international magical cooperation!”
To Harry’s displeasure, Percy now took Padma’s vacated seat. The top table was now empty; Professor Dumbledore was dancing with Professor Sprout, Ludo Bagman with Professor McGonagall; Madame Maxime and Hagrid were cutting a wide path around the dance floor as they waltzed through the students, and Karkaroff was nowhere to be seen. When the next song ended, everybody applauded once more, and Harry saw Ludo Bagman kiss Professor McGonagall’s hand and make his way back through the crowds, at which point Fred and George accosted him.
“What do they think they’re doing, annoying senior Ministry members?” Percy hissed, watching Fred and George suspiciously. “No respect…”
Ludo Bagman shook off Fred and George fairly quickly, however, and, spotting Harry, waved and came over to their table.
“I hope my brothers weren’t bothering you, Mr. Bagman?” said Percy at once.
“What? Oh not at all, not at all!” said Bagman. “No, they were just telling me a bit more about those fake wands of theirs. Wondering if I could advise them on the marketing. I’ve promised to put them in touch with a couple of contacts of mine at Zonko’s Joke Shop…”
Percy didn’t look happy about this at all, and Harry was prepared to bet he would be rushing to tell Mrs. Weasley about this the moment he got home. Apparently Fred and George’s plans had grown even more ambitious lately, if they were hoping to sell to the public. Bagman opened his mouth to ask Harry something, but Percy diverted him.