Professor McGonagall ignored them, and Ron thought this was particularly unfair; just a moment ago, she had been scolding him and Hermione.
"Put on your dress robes," Professor McGonagall continued. "The ball will be held in the Great Hall at eight o'clock on Christmas evening and will end at midnight. Listen—"
Professor McGonagall calmly surveyed the entire class.
"The Yule Ball is undoubtedly an opportunity for us to—er—let our hair down," she said in a tone that suggested she found the idea rather distasteful.
Lavender laughed even harder, pressing her hand firmly over her mouth to stifle the sound.
Harry knew exactly what was so funny: Professor McGonagall's hair was always twisted into a tight little bun, and she seemed never to have let it down.
"But that does not mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will slacken our standards for the behavior of Hogwarts students. I would be deeply pained if any Gryffindor were to disgrace the school in any way."
The bell rang, and as usual, everyone stuffed their books into their bags, slung the bags over their shoulders, and the classroom erupted into a flurry of activity.
Professor McGonagall raised her voice and shouted over the noise: "Potter—stay behind, please. I need a word with you."
Harry stayed back, with Hermione and Ron waiting for him outside the door.
Professor McGonagall waited until the entire class had left before speaking: "Potter, the champions all have their own partners—"
"What partners?" Harry said.
Professor McGonagall looked at him suspiciously, as if she thought he was joking.
"Your partner for the Yule Ball, Potter," she said coldly. "Your dance partner."
Harry was stunned.
A Yule Ball partner… a dance partner…
It was common knowledge that you could only have one dance partner, but Harry Potter had three girlfriends…
Inviting one and snubbing the other two… Poppy might be okay with it, but Cassandra's jealousy and Veratia's fury could probably incinerate him on the spot.
Or… maybe invite none of them?
But Harry knew that would never work… they'd definitely find out, especially Veratia. She might even call him any second…
As he thought this, the crystal ball in his pocket rang.
Mr. LeMay had now fully upgraded the crystal ball phone; it was truly portable, smaller than a fist.
It even had a sensor-based Wingardium Leviosa charm to prevent it from shattering if dropped.
"What's wrong?" Professor McGonagall asked with concern, noticing Harry's pallor.
Harry was her prize pupil now—not only a star at Quidditch but also Gryffindor's champion in the Triwizard Tournament, practically her own son.
Even James back in the day hadn't been this favored in the old lady's eyes—not even if he'd been less of a troublemaker could he have reached Harry's current heights.
"Uh, it's Veratia calling," Harry said, shaking the crystal ball.
Professor McGonagall had one herself; of course she knew what it was.
"It seems Miss Grindelwald wants to be your dance partner? I suppose she's heard about it."
Professor McGonagall, who knew all about Harry's tangled ties with the three girls, sighed. "Fine, you'll have to figure this out yourself. But I must warn you—there's no precedent for inviting three girls as dance partners at once. Understand?"
Got it—that means I can set the precedent.
Harry apologized to Professor McGonagall and answered Veratia's call.
"Harry," Veratia's projection greeted him with a beaming smile. Spotting Professor McGonagall, she added, "Hello, Professor McGonagall. Pleased to see you."
"And I you, Miss Grindelwald," Professor McGonagall replied with a smiling nod.
"Do you have plans for Christmas, Harry?" Veratia asked. "I'd like to invite you to Vienna. We could spend Christmas together, just like old times—how does that sound?"
Hearing Veratia's words, Harry froze.
Vienna? What plans did he have for Christmas?
Didn't she know about the Yule Ball?
Since she didn't, Harry decided not to mention it yet. Better she found out later and gave him a bit more breathing room.
"I'm not sure yet, Veratia," he said guiltily. "I'll let you know in a couple of days, okay? You know I'd never turn down spending a happy Christmas with you, like always."
"All right, darling." A strange glint flickered in Veratia's eyes.
After hanging up, Harry let out a long breath.
"I don't think avoidance is a good strategy, Potter," Professor McGonagall said, looking at him with pity. She thought the boy had serious potential to be a heartbreaker.
"I just need time," Harry sighed. "Give me a chance to think… to figure out how to make this perfect…"
Professor McGonagall glared at him and said nothing.
"Can I pick all three?" Harry looked up at her, clinging to a last shred of hope.
Professor McGonagall gave a cold laugh and lightly tossed him a "No."
Harry was truly stumped. What on earth should he do—
No matter whom he chose, the fallout he feared was inevitable…
Or…
He considered inviting Cassandra.
No, that wouldn't work—if Veratia found out, she'd be livid— Poppy would be upset too…
What about Poppy?
That was even worse— Poppy might be thrilled, but Veratia and Cassandra would probably devour them both alive.
Veratia, then?
That didn't feel right either… What if Cassandra cut him off completely over this?
What to do?
Harry sank into a deep funk, feeling more emo than he ever had in his life…
He'd rather be back on the tournament field facing a Hungarian Horntail again… no, ten Hungarian Horntails would be preferable to agonizing over choosing one dance partner out of three women.
Of course, just because he was brooding didn't mean the rest of the school had to join him.
In the last week of term, the castle grew louder and more boisterous by the day.
Rumors about the Yule Ball flew everywhere, most of them wildly exaggerated—for instance, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of scented mead from Madam Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks.
Though his booking the Weird Sisters might actually be true.
As for who or what the Weird Sisters were, Muggle-born students had no idea—they'd never listened to the Wizarding Wireless Network—but judging by the excitement of those who'd grown up with WWN, the Weird Sisters were evidently a hugely famous band.
Hermione, for one, knew nothing about them, but Ron could rattle off facts enthusiastically, tirelessly explaining to her over and over exactly what the Weird Sisters were.
Some teachers, like the diminutive Professor Flitwick, saw that the students were clearly distracted and simply gave up lecturing.
He let them play games during his Wednesday class, spending most of the time chatting with Harry about the brilliant repelling charm he'd used in the first Triwizard task, along with all those magics Flitwick had never seen before.
Harry held nothing back and told him everything.
After learning about ancient magic, Professor Flitwick lost all interest in teaching and kept Harry talking nonstop.
Other professors weren't nearly so lenient. Predictably, a stern old bat like McGonagall would never throw open the doors like the youthful-minded Flitwick.
And then there was the real heavyweight: Professor Snape would sooner snog James Potter than allow chattering in his classroom.
He surveyed the class with a dark glare and informed them that he would test their antidotes in the very last lesson of term.
"He's vile," Ron fumed that evening in the Gryffindor common room. "Testing us on the last day—ruining the end of term with a mountain of work."
"Um… you haven't exactly been studying hard, have you?" Hermione looked up from her Potions notes at Ron.
Ron was busy building a castle with his pack of Exploding Snap cards—a far more entertaining pastime than Muggle playing cards; if you weren't careful, the whole structure could blow up at any moment.
"It's Christmas, Hermione," Harry said lazily.
He was sprawled in an armchair by the fire, head tipped back, counting the cracks in the ceiling.
The fire was warm and cozy; on a cold winter day, sitting close to the flames with a cup of tea was the height of comfort.
He had almost forgotten about the dance partner dilemma. After agonizing for so long, he just wanted to empty his mind and relax.
Hermione fixed him with a serious stare.
"Harry, I think what you need to do right now is settle on a dance partner soon… I know your relationships with Miss Sweeting and Miss Malfoy are very close, but that's no reason to hurt Veratia."
"I'm not hurting her…"
Harry sighed. If anyone was hurt… it was probably Cassandra who had suffered the most, right?
Yes, from the very beginning, he and Cassandra had been the closest of friends, until Veratia came along…
If he didn't choose her for this ball, she'd probably be heartbroken.
--
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