The Other Potter. Book Four.

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"Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention?" 
Professor McGonagall's irritated voice cracked like a whip through the Transfiguration class on Thursday, and Harry and Ron both jumped and looked up. 

“OH MY GOD! PROFESSOR! YOU WEREN’T YELLING AT ME FOR ONCE!” I shouted.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion Willow.” She said edgily.

“And I didn’t ask to be related to Harry, but that happened!” I said annoyingly.

“Fair point.” She shrugged.
It was the end of the lesson; we had finished our work; the guinea fowl we had been changing into guinea pigs had been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGonagall's desk (Neville's still had feathers); we had copied down our homework from the blackboard ("Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches"}. The bell was due to ring at any moment, and Harry and Ron, who had been having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George's fake wands at the back of the class, looked up, Ron holding a tin parrot and Harry, a rubber haddock. 
"Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age," said Professor McGonagall, with an angry look at the pair of them as the head of Harry's haddock drooped and fell silently to the floor - Ron's parrot's beak had severed it moments before - "I have something to say to you all.”

“I’m interested!” I said just to annoy her. But she ignored me.
"The Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize 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 -" 
LEMONADE! LEMONADE IS SEXY!

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then -" 
Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class. 
"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to - er - let our hair down," she said, in a disapproving voice. 
Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense. 

“Dayum professor!” I said waggling my eyebrows.

“Shut it tree.” She snapped. “Where was I? Oh yes, But that does NOT mean," Professor McGonagall went 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 rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.
Professor McGonagall called above the noise, "Potter - a word, if you please." 
Harry walked gloomily to her desk, and I stalked him, because his business is my business because I’m Willow, and I do what I want.

"Potter, the champions and their partners -" 
"What partners?" said Harry. 
Professor McGonagall looked suspiciously at him, as though she thought he was trying to be funny. 
"Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter," she said coldly. "Your dance partners." 

“AHA!” I screamed in laughter. I proceeded to hold onto Ron for support.
"Dance partners? I don't dance," he said quickly. 
"Oh yes, you do," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball." 
"I'm not dancing," he said. 
"It is traditional," said Professor McGonagall firmly. "You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Potter." 
"But - I don't -" 
"You heard me, Potter," said Professor McGonagall in a very final sort of way. 
“SUCK IT HARRY!” I yelled at him.

“Shut up Tree.”

“Professor Mg, my name is Willow.”

“Okay then, shut up Willow.” McGonagall smirked.