Dawn Rivera

The Unexpected Task

"Potter! Rivera! Weasley! Will you pay attention!"

Professor McGongall's irritated voice cracks like a whip through the Transfiguration class on Thursday, and Harry, Danny and Ron all jump and look up.

It is the end of the lesson; we have finished our work; the guinea-fowl we have been changing into guinea-pigs have been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGongall's desk; we have copied down our homework from the blackboard. The bell is due to ring at any moment, and Harry, Danny and Ron, who have been having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George's fake wands at the back of the class beside me, look up, Ron now holding a tin parrot, Harry, a rubber haddock and Danny, a plastic duck.

"Now Potter, Rivera and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age," says Professor McGongall, with an angry look at the three of them as the head of Harry's haddock and the tail of Danny's duck droops and falls silently to the floor - Ron's parrot-beak severed them moments before - "I have something to say to you all."

"The Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialise with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth-years and above - although you may invite a younger student if you wish -"

Lavender Brown lets out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudges her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she, too, fights not to giggle. They both look around at Harry and Danny. Hermione and I glare at them. Professor McGonagall ignores them, which I think is distinctly unfair, as she has just told off Harry, Danny and Ron.

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGongall continues, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight, in the Great Hall. Now then -"

Professor McGongall stares deliberately around the class.

"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to - er - let our hair down," she says, in a disapproving voice.

Lavender giggles harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. I can see what is funny this time: Professor McGongall, with her hair in a tight bun, looks as though she has never let her hair down in any sense.

"But that does NOT mean," Professor McGongall goes on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

The bell rings, and there is the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packs their begs and swings them over their shoulders.

Professor McGongall calls above the noise, "Potter, Rivera - a word, if you please."

Clearly assuming this has something to do with Harry's headless rubber haddock and Danny's tailess plastic duck, Harry and Danny proceed gloomily to the teachers' desk.

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I have never known so many people to put their names down to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas; Harry always does, of course, because the alternative is usually going back to Privet Drive, and Danny and I always do, but we have always been the minority before now. This year, however, everyone in the fourth year and above seem to be staying, and they all seem to me to be obsessed with the coming ball - or, at least, all the girls are, and it is amazing how many boys Hogwarts suddenly seems to hold; I have never quite noticed that before. Hermione and I seem the only girls in the whole school acting sensibly about this. Girls giggling and whispering in the corridors, girls shrieking with laughter as boys pass them, girls excitedly comparing notes on what they are going to wear on Christmas night...but maybe the reason Hermione and I aren't doing that is because we already have dates. Well, they haven't asked us yet, but I think it's pretty obvious who they're going to ask to the ball.