Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
————————————
Aurora Areli
DESPITE THE VERY HEAVY load of homework that we fourth-years had been given for the holidays, I was in no mood to work when the term ended, no matter how much Hermione nagged me for it. I instead spent the week leading up to Christmas enjoying myself as much as possible along with everyone else, and trying to forget about the whole Cedric situation.
Gryffindor Tower wasn't much less crowded than during term-time; in fact, it seemed to have shrunk slightly, as its inhabitants were being so much rowdier than usual. Fred and George had had great success with their Canary Creams, and for the first couple of days of the holidays, people kept bursting into feather all over the place. But the Gryffindors had all learned to treat food anyone else handed them with extreme caution. When George confided in Harry and I that he and Fred were working on developing something else, I made a mental note not to accept so much as a crisp from either of them in the future.
Snow was falling thickly upon the castle grounds now, making it perfect weather to stay inside, cozied up in front of the fire. The pale blue Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large, chilly, frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin, while the Durmstrang ship's portholes were glazed over with ice, the rigging white with frost.
The house-elves down in the kitchen were outdoing themselves with a series of rich, warming stews and savoury puddings, and only Fleur Delacour seemed to be able to find anything to complain about.
"It is too 'eavy, all zis 'Ogwarts food," we heard her saying grumpily, as we left the Great Hall behind her one evening, with Ron hiding behind Harry, keen not to be spotted by Fleur. "I will not fit into my dress robes!"
"Oooh, there's a tragedy," Hermione said snappily, as Fleur went out into the Entrance Hall. "She really thinks a lot of herself, that one, doesn't she?"
"Hermione — who are you going to the ball with?" Ron asked.
He kept springing this question on her, hoping to startle her into a response by asking it when she least expected it. Ron had eventually found out that Harry and I were going together when he realised that Harry wasn't so worked up over not having a partner ("About time!" was his reaction).
However, Hermione merely frowned at Ron's question and said, "I'm not telling you, you'll just make fun of me."
"You're joking, Weasley?" Malfoy said, behind us. "You're not telling me someone's asked that to the ball? Not the long-molared Mudblood?"
Harry and Ron both whipped around, but Hermione said loudly, waving to somebody over Malfoy's shoulder, "Hello, Professor Moody!"
Malfoy went pale and jumped backwards, looking wildly around for Moody, but he was still up at the staff table, finishing his stew.
