The Ball

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SEVENTH YEAR, NOVEMBER 15th, 1989-
"Hey, Charles." I said cheerfully, strolling into the Great Hall, and plonking myself next to him on the Gryffindor table.

"I thought I asked you not to call me that." He said, looking slightly annoyed.

"You did. 257 times, including that one." I stated, smirking at him.

"So, who are you going to the dance with?"

"I don't know. There's not really anyone I want to ask."

"We should go together!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun. Whaddya say, Charles?"

"...OK." He smiled. As I left the Hall, he called after me. "And stop calling me that!"

I turned and shouted back to him. "258!"

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