Chapter 412: Dance Partners
In the common lounge, Felix Harp's pet, Valen, was getting some special attention.
After seeing off the curious onlookers, Harry and his friends settled into their usual corner. Feeling a bit embarrassed after Valen witnessed their awkward moment, Ron and Hermione weren't too keen on talking. Harry thought it might be easier to converse with Valen instead.
"Would you like some candy?" he asked.
Valen shook its head, pulling out a box of Exploding Snap cards from its pocket, its bright eyes fixed on them. The implication was clear - anyone up for a game?
Hermione, who had been quiet until then, chuckled. "Valen, you've picked that up too?"
Ron blinked, then in a secretive tone said, "Let me teach you a new way to play, my exclusive invention. Not the traditional or Bavarian way, watch this!"
He opened the box, swiftly building a foundation for a castle with the cards. "Now comes the second layer, keep stacking up, steady hands... oh!" Ron's face fell as sparks began to flicker from the castle's second tier.
Valen agilely leaped from the table, landing in Hermione's arms, observing the two-tiered, rudimentary castle.
"Boom!"
Ron's card castle exploded, a burst of fire and smoke rising from the table. Valen observed with keen interest.
Harry and Hermione struggled to contain their laughter; Ron wiped his dirty face with his sleeve, jokingly, "It's actually quite thrilling, isn't it? I recommend playing with a professor; each builds one. It's bound to end in fireworks. Trust me, I'm on your side!" he assured Valen earnestly.
"Oh, right," Hermione suddenly said, lifting Valen and making its eyes meet hers. "Valen, do you know about that hourglass, the one you gave to Harry?" She signaled to Harry with her eyes.
Understanding, Harry fetched a dusty hourglass from his pocket and held it out to Valen. "This one. Hermione mentioned that, um, she only heard Professor Snape mention it once. You took it from the Gringotts goblin’s gem at midnight and were ordered by the professor to return it..."
Valen stared at the hourglass for a while, not remembering much about it. Such things didn't hold much appeal for it; what had happened at that time again?
Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched Valen's gestures and gestures, guessing and piecing together the whole situation.
"So, you returned the gems, but somehow left the hourglass behind... and when the treasures were counted, nobody noticed." Hermione summarized.
Valen nodded, continuing to gesture.
"You have so many treasures... didn't notice this hourglass," Hermione said with a tinge of difficulty, and Valen vigorously agreed. That was it. Ron, beside them, widened his eyes, staring at Valen's pocket. "How much have you hidden? Can I take a look—"
Valen immediately turned its head away.
"Alright, I get it," Ron said.
At that moment, Ginny approached, sitting beside Hermione. "Hey, little Valen, it's you..." Hermione was grooming Valen, while Ginny teased it, casually asking, "Have you decided, are you going to ask someone to dance, or will you wait for someone to invite you? You wouldn't want to be left out in the end."
Harry and Ron widened their eyes, having been worried about this very thing. Yesterday, during Transfiguration on Friday, they'd finished their homework early—turning chickens into guinea pigs—and decided to play a dueling game. Harry and Ron, holding two fake wands, Ron with a tin-plated parrot and Harry with a rubber black cod, were sword-fighting in the back of the classroom.
Hermione, looking annoyed, was organizing her transfiguration notes. "Gentlemen, can't you do something more age-appropriate?"
"See, we're practicing swordplay, emulating the first Headmaster Godric Gryffindor," Ron justified his childish behavior, attacking Harry while he was distracted.
"Oh, really? Do you know Gryffindor's favorite spell?" Hermione asked lightly.
Harry and Ron stopped, exchanging looks.
"Sharp Edge," the spell could enchant weapons, significantly enhancing their sharpness and durability, almost like solidifying the effect of a cutting curse, only much better. When Gryffindor wielded the goblin sword, he could effortlessly slice through a dragon's skin," Hermione explained, finishing her notes.
Professor McGonagall approached, eyeing the tin-plated parrot Ron held—Harry's rubber black cod's head had snapped off. She pursed her lips but didn't say anything.
Then, she turned towards the podium, announcing the Christmas Ball.
"The ball is open to students in the fourth year and above. If you intend to... well... let down your hair, relax a bit," McGonagall paused, somewhat dismissively, "you must find yourself a partner... of course, inviting younger students is allowed."
Ravenclaw's Lavender Brown let out a piercingly silly laugh, but she wasn't alone. Parvati Patil nudged her hard, and both turned to look at Harry. In fact, more than half the girls in the class were sizing him up; Harry had never felt such intense scrutiny.
After class, McGonagall kept Harry, Hermione, and Ron back, sharing astonishing news with them.
"You should be aware," McGonagall said matter-of-factly.
Harry looked at Hermione, who nodded knowingly. He glanced at Ron, who was just as bewildered; Harry thought McGonagall was keeping them back because of his headless rubber black cod. But now, he realized he had misunderstood.
"Potter, champions all have their partners—" McGonagall started.
"Part—what!" Harry gasped, cutting her off.
"Partners, dance partners, interpret it as you will," McGonagall said, noting Harry's blush with a sympathetic smile. "Yes, according to traditional customs, the dance is led by the champions and their partners."
Harry was still stunned; he wanted to muster some cheerful expression because Professor McGonagall clearly thought this was a privilege and honor for champions, but all he could picture was the comical image of himself wearing a top hat and tails, eager to discard this 'honor.'
Perhaps Ron would like it, Harry thought, but he quickly realized that Ron was also one of the champions, as was Hermione.
As they exited the classroom, Ron grimaced slightly. "You're actually fine, Harry. You're always popular, girls are eagerly waiting for you to invite them, maybe... someone might even invite you. I'm the one in trouble, and did you hear what Professor McGonagall said? Everyone has to wear formal robes... darn it, I have that grandmother's embroidered skirt..."
In truth, Ron had a point; Harry was indeed more popular than he imagined. Just yesterday—this morning, actually, while he and Ron were having breakfast in the Great Hall, a curly-haired third-year Hufflepuff girl invited Harry to the Christmas Ball, and he hadn't even spoken to her before.
It was a bit awkward at the time; he was discussing dance partners with Ron, both worried about it. Ron even pessimistically suggested using
a Summoning Charm to conjure one. "Don't use the most powerful spells," Ron said with a heavy tone.
Harry snorted, stuffing pumpkin porridge into his mouth. At that moment, the girl walked over to invite him.
"Oh, um, what did you say... sorry, I haven't decided yet." Harry looked at her in surprise and declined reflexively because it was too sudden.
The girl walked away looking slightly hurt.
Later, as Hermione hurried them towards the Eeylops Owl Emporium, "We were just discussing dance partners, Hermione!" Ron complained at the time, but Hermione dismissed his excuse, citing the dance was still a half-month away. Both Harry and Ron had thoughts of escape, so they followed Hermione—until they found themselves bored out of their minds squatting in front of the emporium for two hours.
If he were asked now, Harry wouldn't know which was scarier: facing a Hungarian Horntail, finding a dance partner, or squatting in the icy cold for two hours. But what was truly terrifying was that it was now nighttime, and he was ready to shower and sleep after hosting Valen—until Ginny's question brought him back to reality.
...
As he lay in bed, unable to sleep, Ginny's words echoed in his mind, "Have you decided, are you going to ask someone to dance, or will you wait for someone to invite you? You wouldn't want to be left out in the end."
He had a name in his mind initially, but he knew it was just his mind wandering. Yet, a hidden thought whispered, what if, what if Cedric didn’t ask Cho? Collins is quite pretty, isn't she?
But now, he wasn't so sure anymore.
Wishing everyone a Happy Mid-Autumn Festival!
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