another love; harry potter

fourteen

\ wherein she must have a partner for the ball /

"MORNING," I HUMMED, taking a seat beside Harry in the Great Hall, across Ron and Hermione, all three of them acknowledging my presence with a nod as they continued to eat.

"Hermione mentioned you had a truly fascinating nightmare," said Ron, taking a large bite out of a sausage.

"Oh yes, I dreamt I got married to Marilyn Monroe. But then she died at the wedding."

"That actress who died twenty years ago?"

"Yeah," I nodded, serving myself some eggs. "It was weird. And a bad nightmare. I mean, I was literally walking down the aisle, and she just. Dropped dead."

"Well no shit it's something bad," Ron huffed, "nightmares are always bad. Once I had a nightmare that I was the last human left on earth." 

Hermione, Harry, and I stared at Ron for a second.

"Ron...you sound like you need a therapist-"

"Sod off, Harry."

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

"Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention!"

It was the end of the Transfiguration lesson; we had just finished our work; the guinea fowls 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).

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. I stifled a laugh.

"Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age," said Professor McGonagall, with an angry look at the two 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.

"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 Brown let out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle.

"The ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day," McGonagall continued, "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. I could see what was funny this time: Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense.

"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."