In Her Eyes Lies Her Heart

As cold winds and sleet announced the beginning of December, Harry had not seen Eve much. She no longer ate meals with them, nor did she accompany the others to the Common room or join them in conversation between classes. The only time he saw her was when her white furry animagus darted around a corner to wait while he was in class.
He assumed that now he was back in good graces with Ron that she was giving them a chance to catch up, and he appreciated it greatly. However, he missed her slightly. Eve was a good balance for Hermione, whereas Ron tended to insult her and send her off in a towering temper, threatening to never let them copy her History of Magic notes again. But even more than that, he missed Eve’s company.
Harry did not see Eve until the first Thursday of December. He and Ron were sitting in Transfiguration class, waiting to be dismissed, having a sword fight with Fred and Georges joke wands, when McGonagall snapped at them.
“Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention?” her irritated voice cracked like a whip. Ron and Harry froze and looked at her, slightly sheepish.
“Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age,” said Professor McGonagall, with an angry looked at the pair of them. “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 and Pavarti Patil whispered to one another and looked back at Harry, giggling. McGonagall ignored them.
“Dress robes will be worn,” she continued, “and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then –”
Professor McGonagall looked deliberately around the class.
“The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us to – er – let our hair down,” she said in a disapproving voice. Lavender burst into a new fit of giggles.
“But that does NOT mean that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrases our school in any way. Therefore,” she seemed to steel herself, “mandatory dancing lessons will be held this Saturday in the old first floor classroom at ten o’clock sharp.”
The uproar was instantaneous. The girls all shrieked with glee, leaning over to whisper excitedly, while the boys groaned and protested in outrage.
“Quiet!” snapped McGonagall, silencing the room. “I will not have the noble house of Godric Gryffindor be besmirched by my students dancing like a bouncing, bumbling, band of buffoons!” She stared down at them all imperiously. “You will be required to dance at least the first dance, and you will dance in this lesson so that you do not look like a fool during the opening waltz.”
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.”
She waited until the rest of the class had gone, and then said, “Potter, the champions and their partners –”
“What partners?” said Harry.
“Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter,” she said impatiently. “Your dance partners .”
Harry’s insides seemed to curl up and shrivel.
“Dance partners?” He felt himself going red. “I don’t dance,” he said quickly.
“Oh yes, you do,” said Professor McGonagall irritably. “That’s what I’m telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball.”
“I’m not dancing,” he said.
“You are. You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of this school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, and I suggest you take this Saturday’s lesson seriously, Potter.”
“But – I don’t –”
“You heard me, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall in a very final sort of way.

That Saturday, Harry and Ron trudged to the fourth floor with a sense of growing apprehension.
“I can’t believe we have to do this,” said Ron, grumbling.
“Yeah,” said Harry. “This is going to be a disaster. I’ve never even seen a dance…”
They paused outside the classroom with the rest of the Gryffindor students fourth year and above, all of whom were whispering and shifting nervously. The door opened and they filed in. The room was one of the larger classrooms in the castle, and the desks and chairs had all been pushed to the walls to make more room for the lesson. The students clumped together, unsure of what they were supposed to do.
Professor McGonagall walked in and the students went quiet.
“I’m glad to see you all took me seriously,” she said looking around at them all. “Now, today you will be learning the waltz for the opening only. If you wish to learn anything else, I will have non mandatory lessons every Saturday until the ball.” The girls all twittered madly at this. “I decided that perhaps it would be more… beneficial to learn from someone your own age, and one of the ladies from Beauxbatons has kindly offered to instruct you. Miss Eviene Yllyn will teach you, and I expect all of you to listen to her instruction with respect.” McGonagall finished with a stern glare at them all, and gestured to the door. “Miss, Yllyn, they’re all yours.”
Harry and the others all looked to the door. Eve was standing there, dressed in the Beauxbaton’s uniform, a pair of long matching gloves, and with her hair in a long braid. Fred wolf whistled.
“All right, Evie!” he and George laughed.
“Weasley!” McGonagall admonished, but Eve waved her down.
“Not a problem, Professor. Fred, to the center please,” Eve said, smiling in a distinctly evil way as she walked into the room. Harry, Ron, and George chuckled together. “All the boys on this side, and the girls one that side, please.” She took off the cloak at her shoulders, and gestured to Fred. “Come here, now, hold your arms like this, hand at my waist.” Fred winked at Harry and the others who had a good laugh. Eve continued, “Now, look at our position. Boys, notice the hand on the back; this is how you’ll lead. A simple push or pull with that hand suffices to guide your partner. Girls, let the boys lead. It’s the only thing they get to control in this whole affair, so let them have that much.” Eve got an appreciative laugh from the group, and Harry understood why McGonagall wanted Eve to teach. She had an easy authority that helped loosen the tension of being forced to dance.
Eve whispered quick instructions to Fred, then said, “Watch us, and remember the count.” Eve led Fred in an easy waltz, chanting “one, two, three” in time with her steps. When they had made a revolution, she released Fred and allowed him to return to the wall with the other boys. He came back red in the face but smiling.
“Now, ladies, step forward,” Eve said, indicating the place they should stand. “And gentlemen, here.” The two groups stepped forward, making two ragged lines. Eve made a quick head count. “Excellent, everyone gets a partner. Okay, the person across from you is now your partner. Suck it up, no switching.” She added the last when some of the girls tried to fight for Harry.
Eve instructed them in the basic steps and had them dance in a large circle around the room, correcting and encouraging as they passed her. By the end of the lesson, everyone was competent enough to keep rhythm with the music, and many were already signing up for the non-mandatory lessons with her. McGonagall was making an odd expression that Harry suspected might be a smile.
“Excellent, everyone, really well done. That’s the gist of the opening waltz. If you are interested, next week we’ll add a few extras, spins and such, and the week after – for those of you I deem capable – I’ll add lifts. I’ll also have an emergency class Christmas Eve at eight o’clock in the morning if you need it, just to review.” Eve looked at them all. “Well, go away. You don’t want to spend your Saturday with me, shoo.” She waved them all away. The students laughed and began meandering out.
“That’s not true, Eviene,” said Fred sidling up to her.
“Yeah, we like you all right, Eviene” added George, grabbing her around the shoulders. “Right Harry? Don’t you just love Eviene?”
“Yeah, we’ll keep you,” Harry said, grinning.
“So,” Fred began, “we welcome you into our school –”
“Allow you access to our common room –” continued George.
“And you didn’t even tell us your real name?” finished Fred, mocking anger and disappointment.
“Oh, shut up, the pair of you,” said Eve, pushing them off. “No one ever asked. Eve was enough for you yesterday.”
Harry thought Eve seemed a little upset at this, and the more he thought about it, he realized that he never had asked her anything, except why her eyes were red. He never even asked her full name in all those hours she had spent with him and Hermione. It had been a month, and he never even thought about it.
“How about we all go back to the common room?” said Fred. “George and I can nick some stuff from the kitchens and we’ll just spend some time together with our love Eviene Yllyn.”