The Legacy of Emily Potter

17.

"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. Hermione and me couldn't help but let out a small giggle.

"Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age," Professor McGonagall said, with an angry look to the pair of them, "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 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 —"

Lavender let out a shrill giggle. Parvati nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry. Ugh, how much I hated these chicken. Almost as much as Pansy Parkinson. Professor McGonagall ignored them.

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, what made me shriek, what again made McGonagall smile broadly since I was her favorite student, "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. Lavender giggled harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound.

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

The second thing I must mention is, that some of you will help organize the ball to show, that our students are capable of taking responsibilities. Are there any volunteers?"

My arm went up so fast, that I almost hit over Hermione, which ducked as fast as possible. I saw that Lavender and some of her annoying giggling friends were waving their hands around in the air, but McGonagall just ignored them.

"Yes, Emily?" she turned to me. "Professor, if you don't mind, Hermione, Ginny Weasley and me could do that. As you probably know, we're roommates and a great team. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time for me to organize an event like this. Give me the budget and a few days and it'll be done."

"What the hell?" Hermione whispered into my ear. "Trust me, it will be great," I murmured back.

"Well, that is indeed a brilliant idea!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "I will give you the rest of the informations this week."

"You're a terrible person," Hermione mumbled under her breath. "But you love me," I answered with a wink.

The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as every- one packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.
Professor McGonagall called above the noise, "Potter — yes, both of you — a word, if you please."

We proceeded to the teacher's desk. Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had gone, and then said to Harry, "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."

"Dance partners?" He went going red. "I don't dance," he said quickly. "Oh hell, you do," I said at the same time as McGonagall said, "Oh yes, you do,"

"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 part- ner, Potter."
"But — I don't —"

"Professor, I assure you that he will do it. But anyways, how can I help you?", I cut in. "Ah yes, Potter, you can go now", she said to Harry. After he had left, she turned to me. "Emily, I feel uncomfortable asking you for this, I know it is a lot and I don't want you to feel stressed about it.
I know you might want to go to the ball with Harry, but I... Professors Dumbledore thought, that it would be better if you went with someone from a different house."

She stopped and sighed and I frowned, having a premonition of where this was leasding. "What do you mean? I could go with Cedric Diggory," I asked harsher than intended and flashed her a strained smile.

"We would like you or one of the other organizers to maybe erm... go with a partner from Sly—," she stopped again and then continued cautiously, "someone from a competing house."

I choked on the sip of tea I was taking from my thermos flask. "Of course, you don't have to!" She hurried to say. "Just because the current situation between Gryffindor and Slytherin is more tensed than it ever was and trust me I wouldn't, if it wasn't utterly necessary, want one of my most exemplary students to go with one of those shifty snak—"

"I'll do it," I interrupted her.

"Really?" Her eyes lit up with joy.