𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘩 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘳

2. The Slughorn's Party

The next day, Harry woke up with a nervous feeling. That day was the party.

He went to his classes as usual but didn't listen or pay attention to what the teachers were saying.

At transfiguration, Hermione came up to him" You seems to be off-track today, is the Slughorn's party bothering you?"

" I don't know how to behave in front of Tonks."

"Just be nice, okay?"

When he arrived in the entrance hall at eight o'clock that night, he found an unusually large number of girls lurking there, all of whom seemed to be staring at him resentfully.

He approached Tonks, who was standing there, lost in her own thoughts. She was wearing a shiny blue dress with silver sparkling on the waist. Her shoulder-lengthed hair was unchanged, still mousy brown. Harry has to admit, she was beautiful in her own way.

" I'm sorry I couldn't make myself more good-looking, my metamorph abilities —" she stopped, giving Harry an apologetic smile. Again, the smile felt forced.

"Hi," he said awkwardly. "Shall we get going then?"

"Oh yes. Where is the party?"

"Slughorn's office," said Harry, leading her up the marble staircase away from all the staring and muttering. 

She gently held his hand, which he didn't refuse. Her hand felt icy, without a single trace of warmth, unlike last year.

"Are you cold?" said Harry while glancing at her.

"No, I'm fine."

" You seem to be unhappy this year."

" First Sirius, then Madam Bones and My Auror friends. So many people died. Now there is someone—" she silenced herself again.

Harry didn't push her further, knowing she would not have wanted to answer.

"AHA!" screamed a voice from overhead. They had just passed right underneath Peeves, who was hanging upside down from a chandelier and grinning maliciously at them. 

" Potty and Nymphie are going to the party! Potty lurves Nymphie! Potty Luuuuurves Nyyyyyyymphie!"

And he zoomed away, crackling and shrieking " Potty loves Nymphie!"

They were already approaching Slughorn's office and the sounds of laughter, music, and loud conversation were growing louder with every step they took. 

Whether it had been built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so, Slughorn's office was much larger than the usual teacher's study. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were born, so that they looked like little roving tables. 

"Harry, m'boy!" boomed Slughorn, almost as soon as they had squeezed in through the door. "And who are you?"

"Tonks sir. I graduated the year before Harry started school."

"Ah, I remember your mother, brightest witch of her age. Now come in, come in, so many people I'd like you two to meet."

Slughorn was wearing a tasseled velvet hat to match his smoking jacket. Gripping Harry's arm so tightly he might have been hoping to Disapparate with him, Slughorn led him purposefully into the party. Harry dragged Tonks along with him.