Poisoned Youth | ✓

13- Library Lover

Surprisingly enough, there was nothing in the Daily Prophet about the picture Skeeter took of Hermione and Harry hugging. Before the first task, Rita Skeeter's first article had to do with Colin Creevey telling the newspaper about Harry's and Hermione's relationship.

Now, it was the end of our Transfiguration lesson with Professor McGonagall. We had finished our work; the guinea fowl 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); we had copied down our homework from the blackboard ("Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches"). 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.

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

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, 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 behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.

Professor McGonagall called above the noise, "Potter— a word, if you please."

Harry looked glum as he made his way to her desk, he was surely to get detention for his child play. Weird that Ron wasn't getting one a well.

I had never known so many people to put their names down to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas; this was the second time I would be staying at Hogwarts. This year, however, everyone in the fourth year and above seemed to be staying, and they all seemed to be obsessed with the coming ball. Walking around the castle was never something I had trouble doing, but thanks to the ball, I was stopped by many boys asking to escort me. Not only did the boys stare, but the girls giggled and whispering in the corridors, shrieking with laughter as boys passed them, girls excitedly comparing notes on what they were going to wear on Christmas night.

"Why do they have to move in packs?" Harry asked Ron as a dozen or so girls walked past us, sniggering and staring at Harry. "How're you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?"

"Lasso one?" Ron suggested. "Got any idea who you're going to try?"

"You don't lasso girls, Ronald," I laughed. "You just come up to them and ask. Plain and simple. Boys are the problem —"