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In Her Eyes Lies Her Heart

Drastic Action

Harry had never known so many people to put their names down to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas; he always did, of course, because the alternative was usually going back to Privet
Drive, but he had always been very much in the minority before now. This year, however, everyone in the fourth year and above seemed to be staying, and they all seemed to Harry to be obsessed with the coming ball - or at least all the girls were, and it was amazing how many girls Hogwarts suddenly seemed to hold; he had never quite noticed that before. Girls giggling and whispering in the corridors, girls 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 them, sniggering and staring at Harry. “How’re you supposed to get one on their own to ask them?”
“Lasso one?” Ron suggested.
“You aren’t,” said Eve, appearing suddenly by Harry’s shoulder, dressed in the Beauxbaton’s uniform, a smirk playing on her lips. She had, as she said she would be, been absent at meals. However she still seemed to be tailing Harry during the day, and would sometimes pop in and out of his conversations. In the beginning, before the Horntail, this annoyed him, that not even his private conversations were private. But after a few weeks, he realized that she usually had a good point, and he began welcoming these sudden appearances. Eve fell into step beside them.
“Where did you come from?” Ron asked, still not accustomed to Eve’s silent comings and goings. “And what do you mean?” asked Ron, bemused. “How are you supposed to ask them without getting them on their own?”
“They want you to do it in front of their friends,” she said matter-of-factly, as they turned the corner and began walking down the transfiguration hallway.
“Why the bloody hell would they want that?” said Ron, spluttering.
“Because, they want to be able to discuss it together later; Compare the whos and the hows. If it’s on their own, without friends there to witness and celebrate, it’s all a little anticlimactic. They want the whole production,” Eve said, pushing her dark hair out of her face. As her hair fell back into place, Harry caught a bit of cinnamon on the air.
“What about you, then,” said Harry, “Do you like all the excitement and production?”
Eve did not deign to respond. She raised one elegantly curved eyebrow at him, and he could read her expression as clearly as if she had said ‘Are you serious?’ Ron sniggered, and Harry, though reddening behind the ears, smiled cheekily back at her.
“You two had better get a move on, especially you Harry. I’ll be forced to set you up with whoever is left,” Eve said, still with a look of incredulity at Harry’s question, then sauntered off down another corridor.
Harry and Ron watched her go.
“I think you insulted her mate,” said Ron, grinning. “So, got any idea who you’re going to try?”
Harry didn’t answer. He knew perfectly well whom he’d like to ask, but working up the nerve was something else… Cho was a year older than he was; she was very pretty; she was a very good Quidditch player, and she was also very popular. Ron seemed to know what was going on inside Harry’s head.
“Listen, you’re not going to have any trouble. You’re a champion. You’ve just beaten a Hungarian Horntail. I bet they’ll be queuing up to go with you.” Harry remembered Eve saying something similar Saturday night, but her statement involved girls clawing each other, rather than queuing up neatly. He felt his stomach drop further, and felt relieved when they sat in class and he no longer had to talk about the Ball.
To Harry’s amazement, both Eve and Ron turned out to be quite right.
A curly-haired third-year Hufflepuff girl, to whom Harry had never spoken in his life, asked him to go to the ball with her the very next day. Harry was so taken aback he said no before he’d even stopped to consider the matter. The girl walked off looking rather hurt, and Harry had to endure Dean’s, Seamus’s, and Ron’s taunts about her all through History of Magic. The following day, two more girls asked him, a second year and (to his horror) a fifth year who looked as though she might knock him out if he refused.
“She was quite good-looking,” said Ron fairly, after he’d stopped laughing.
“She was a foot taller than me,” said Harry, still unnerved. “Imagine what I’d look like trying to dance with her.”
Eve, who was present as either human or animagus, witnessed each of these embarrassing events and Harry could see the ‘What did I tell you?’ look on her face, even when she was an ermine. Harry was beginning to get annoyed now. If Eve was so good at this sort of stuff, why didn’t she just help him figure out how to ask Cho? By that next Saturday’s lesson, four more girls had asked Harry to the ball. Some were shy, some were confident, but all seem enraptured at his presence.
Hermione’s words about Krum kept coming back to him. “They only like him because he’s famous!” Harry doubted very much if any of the girls who had asked to be his partner so far would have wanted to go to the ball with him if he hadn’t been a school champion. Then he wondered if this would bother him if Cho asked him.
Eve’s dance lessons weren’t helping Harry feel better. Each time, various girls would try to reshuffle to get Harry as their partner for the day, and Eve would have to assign him one to end the confusion and get on with the lesson. Harry felt like he wasn’t learning much, because his partners kept distracting him with their excitement and nervousness and desire to be his date to the ball.
However, on the whole, Harry had to admit that even with the embarrassing prospect of opening the ball before him, life had definitely improved since he had got through the first task. He wasn’t attracting nearly as much unpleasantness in the corridors anymore, which he suspected had a lot to do with Cedric - he had an idea Cedric might have told the Hufflepuffs to leave Harry alone, in gratitude for Harry’s tipoff about the dragons. There seemed to be fewer Support Cedric Diggory! badges around too. Draco Malfoy, of course, was still quoting Rita Skeeter’s article to him at every possible opportunity, but he was getting fewer and fewer laughs out of it.

The last week of term became increasingly boisterous as it progressed. Rumors about the Yule Ball were flying everywhere, though Harry didn’t believe half of them - for instance, that Dumbledore had bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seemed to be fact, however, that he had booked the Weird Sisters. Exactly who or what the Weird Sisters were Harry didn’t know, never having had access to a wizard’s wireless, but he deduced from the wild excitement of those who had grown up listening to the WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network) that they were a very famous musical group.
Some of the teachers, like little Professor Flitwick, gave up trying to teach them much when their minds were so clearly elsewhere; he allowed them to play games in his lesson on Wednesday, and spent most of it talking to Harry about the perfect Summoning Charm Harry had used during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. Other teachers were not so generous. Nothing would ever deflect Professor Binns, for example, from plowing on through his notes on goblin rebellions - as Binns hadn’t let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, they supposed a small thing like Christmas wasn’t going to put him off. It was amazing how he could make even bloody and vicious goblin riots sound as boring as Percy’s cauldron-bottom report. Professors McGonagall and Moody kept them working until the very last second of their classes too, and Snape, of course, would no sooner let them play games in class than adopt Harry. Staring nastily around at them all, he informed them that he would be testing them on poison antidotes during the last lesson of the term.
“Evil, he is,” Ron said bitterly that night in the Gryffindor common room. “Springing a test on us on the last day. Ruining the last bit of term with a whole load of studying.”
“Mmm… you’re not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?” said Hermione, looking at him over the top of her Potions notes. Ron was on the floor between Hermione’s table and the armchair Harry occupied. He was busy building a card castle out of his Exploding Snap pack - a much more interesting pastime than with Muggle cards, because of the chance that the whole thing would blow up at any second.
“It’s Christmas, Hermione,” said Harry lazily; he was playing with the small Hungarian Horntail he had given Eve after the first task. Eve, who was lounging beside the fire with her eyes closed, seemed to have added some spells to it, because it had taken on the characteristics of a very playful cat.
“I’d have thought you’d be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don’t want to learn your antidotes!”
“Like what?” Harry said as he watched the Horntail do a series of aerial backflips across the room and land on Eve’s face.
“That egg!” Hermione hissed.
“Come on, Hermione, I’ve got till February the twenty-fourth,” Harry said, smiling as Eve jumped at the little dragon’s landing.
He had put the golden egg upstairs in his trunk and hadn’t opened it since the celebration party after the first task. There were still two and a half months to go until he needed to know what all the screechy wailing meant, after all.
“But it might take weeks to work it out!” said Hermione. “You’re going to look a real idiot if everyone else knows what the next task is and you don’t!”
“Don’t waste your breath, Hermione, you know how stubborn he is,” said Eve, sitting up and stretching. She stood, scooped up the little dragon, and deposited it in Harry’s lap. She then leaned against the arm of Harry’s chair to watch Ron add the last cards to his castle. Just as he let go of the last card, the castle exploded, leaving Ron’s eyebrows singed.
“Nice look Ron… go well with your dress robes, that will.”
It was Fred and George. They sat down at the table across from Hermione as Ron felt how much damage had been done.
“Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?” George asked.
“No, he’s off delivering a letter,” said Ron, going to the window to look at his reflection. “Why?”
“Because George wants to invite him to the ball,” said Fred sarcastically.
“Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat,” said George.
“Who d’you two keep writing to, eh?” said Ron, sitting beside Hermione, who barely hid her amusement at his smoking eyebrows.
“Nose out, Ron, or I’ll burn that for you too,” said Fred, waving his wand threateningly. “So… you lot got dates for the ball yet?”
“Nope,” said Ron.
“Well, you’d better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone,” said Fred.
“Who’re you going with, then?” said Ron.
“Angelina,” said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.
“What?” said Ron, taken aback. “You’ve already asked her?”
“Good point,” said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, “Oy! Angelina!”
Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the bulletin board, looked over at him.
“What?” she called back.
“Want to come to the ball with me?”
Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look.
“All right, then,” she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.
“There you go,” said Fred to Harry and Ron, “piece of cake.”
He got to his feet, yawning, and said, “We’d better use a school owl then, George, come on…”
They left. Ron stopped feeling his eyebrows and looked at Harry.
“We should get a move on, you know… ask someone. He’s right. We don’t want to end up with a pair of trolls.”
Hermione let out a sputter of indignation.
“A pair of… what, excuse me?”
“Well - you know,” said Ron, shrugging. “I’d rather go alone than with – with Eloise Midgen, say.”
“Her acne’s loads better lately - and she’s really nice!”
“Her nose is off-center,” said Ron.
“Oh I see,” Hermione said, bristling. “So basically, you’re going to take the best looking girl who’ll have you, even if she’s completely horrible?”
“Er - yeah, that sounds about right,” said Ron.
“I’m going to bed,” Hermione snapped, and she swept off toward the girls’ staircase without another word.
“Now you’ve done it,” said Eve.

The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up. Harry noticed that they were the most stunning he had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles had been attached to the banisters of the marble staircase; the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls, and the suits of armor had all been bewitched to sing carols whenever anyone passed them. It was quite something to hear “O Come, All Ye Faithful” sung by an empty helmet that only knew half the words. Several times, Filch the caretaker had to extract Peeves from inside the armor, where he had taken to hiding, filling in the gaps in the songs with lyrics of his own invention, all of which were very rude.
And still Harry hadn’t asked Cho to the ball. He and Ron were getting very nervous now, though as Harry pointed out, Ron would look much less stupid than he would without a partner; Harry was supposed to be starting the dancing with the other champions.
“I suppose there’s always Moaning Myrtle,” he said gloomily, referring to the ghost who haunted the girls’ toilets on the second floor.
“Harry - we’ve just got to grit our teeth and do it,” said Ron on Friday morning, in a tone that suggested they were planning the storming of an impregnable fortress.
“When we get back to the common room tonight, we’ll both have partners - agreed?”
“Er… okay,” said Harry.
But every time he glimpsed Cho that day - during break, and then lunchtime, and once on the way to History of Magic - she was surrounded by friends. Didn’t she ever go anywhere alone? Could he perhaps ambush her as she was going into a bathroom? But no - she even seemed to go there with an escort of four or five girls. Yet if he didn’t do it soon, she was bound to have been asked by somebody else. Each time he saw Cho and didn’t ask her, Eve popped up, leaning against the wall or sitting on a bannister, her eyebrow cocked as if to say “well?” The fourth time this happened, Harry felt mingled irritation and panic well up inside him, and decided he would have to just go for it, giggling friends or not.
He found it hard to concentrate on Snape’s Potions test, and consequently forgot to add the key ingredient - a bezoar - meaning that he received bottom marks. He didn’t care, though; he was too busy screwing up his courage for what he was about to do. When the bell rang, he grabbed his bag, and hurried to the dungeon door.
“I’ll meet you at dinner,” he said to Ron and Hermione, and he dashed off upstairs, an ermine Eve bouncing in his wake.
He’d just have to ask Cho for a private word, that was all… He hurried off through the packed corridors looking for her, and (rather sooner than he had expected) he found her, emerging from a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Harry stopped dead at the sight of her, all courage drained from him. Then he felt a weight in his pocket and Eve’s furry tail brushed his hand. Her presence seemed to help, and he managed to clear his throat.
“Er - Cho? Could I have a word with you?”
Giggling should be made illegal Harry thought furiously, as all the girls around Cho started doing it. She didn’t, though. She said, “Okay,” and followed him out of earshot other classmates. Harry turned to look at her and his stomach gave a weird lurch as though he had missed a step going downstairs.
“Er,” he said, absentmindedly stroking Eve’s tail.
He couldn’t ask her. He couldn’t. But he had to. Cho stood there looking puzzled, watching him. Eve bit his finger to urge him on, and the words came out before Harry had quite got his tongue around them.
“Wangoballwime?”
“Sorry?” said Cho.
“D’you - d’you want to go to the ball with me?” said Harry. Why did he have to go red now? Why?
“Oh!” said Cho, and she went red too. “Oh Harry, I’m really sorry,” and she truly looked it. “I’ve already said I’ll go with someone else.”
“Oh,” said Harry.
It was odd; a moment before his insides had been writhing like snakes, but suddenly he didn’t seem to have any insides at all.
“Oh okay,” he said, “no problem.”
“I’m really sorry,” she said again.
“That’s okay,” said Harry.
They stood there looking at each other, and then Cho said, “Well-”
“Yeah,” said Harry.
“Well, ‘bye,” said Cho, still very red. She walked away.
Harry called after her, before he could stop himself.
“Who’re you going with?”
“Oh - Cedric,” she said. “Cedric Diggory.”
“Oh right,” said Harry.
His insides had come back again. It felt as though they had been filled with lead in their absence. Completely forgetting about dinner, he walked slowly back up to Gryffindor Tower, Cho’s voice echoing in his ears with every step he took. “Cedric – Cedric Diggory.” He had been starting to quite like Cedric - prepared to overlook the fact that he had once beaten him at Quidditch, and was handsome, and popular, and nearly everyone’s favorite champion. Now he suddenly realized that Cedric was in fact a useless pretty boy who didn’t have enough brains to fill an eggcup. Eve crawled out of his pocket and set herself around his shoulders as he walked. He knew she wouldn’t say “I told you so” and he appreciated it.
“Fairy lights,” he said dully to the Fat Lady - the password had been changed the previous day.
“Yes, indeed, dear!” she trilled, straightening her new tinsel hair band as she swung forward to admit him.
Entering the common room, Harry looked around, and to his surprise he saw Ron sitting ashen- faced in a distant corner. Ginny was sitting with him, talking to him in what seemed to be a low, soothing voice. Eve jumped off Harry’s shoulders and landed as a human.
“What’s up, Ron?” said Harry, joining Ginny at Ron’s side, Eve close behind.
Ron looked up at Harry, a sort of blind horror in his face.
“Why did I do it?” he said wildly. “I don’t know what made me do it!
“What?” said Harry.
“He - er - just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him,” said Ginny. She looked as though she was fighting back a smile, but she kept patting Ron’s arm sympathetically.
“You what?’ said Harry.
“I don’t know what made me do it!” Ron gasped again. “What was I playing at? There were people - all around - I’ve gone mad - everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall - she was standing there talking to Diggory - and it sort of came over me - and I asked her!”
Ron moaned and put his face in his hands. He kept talking, though the words were barely distinguishable.
“She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn’t even answer. And then - I dunno - I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it.”
“She’s part veela,” said Harry. “You were right - her grandmother was one.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” said Eve, “I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it - but she was wasting her time. He’s going with Cho Chang.”
Ron looked up.
“I asked her to go with me just now,” Harry said dully, “and she told me.”
Ginny had suddenly stopped smiling.
“This is mad,” said Ron. “We’re the only ones left who haven’t got anyone - well, except Neville. Hey - guess who he asked? Hermione!”
“What?” said Harry, completely distracted by this startling news.
“Yeah, I know!” said Ron, some of the color coming back into his face as he started to laugh. “He told me after Potions! Said she’s always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff - but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn’t want to go with Neville… I mean, who would?”
“Don’t!” said Ginny, annoyed. “Don’t laugh -”
Just then Hermione climbed in through the portrait hole.
“Why weren’t you two at dinner?” she said, coming over to join them.
“Because - oh shut up laughing, you two - because they’ve both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!” said Ginny.
That shut Harry and Ron up.
“Thanks a bunch, Ginny,” said Ron sourly.
“All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?” said Hermione loftily. “Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone somewhere who’ll have you.”
But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.
“Hermione, Neville’s right - you are a girl…”
“Oh well spotted,” she said acidly.
“Well - you can come with one of us!”
“No, I can’t,” snapped Hermione.
“Oh come on,” he said impatiently, “we need partners, we’re going to look really stupid if we haven’t got any, everyone else has…”
“I can’t come with you,” said Hermione, now blushing, “because I’m already going with someone.”
“No, you’re not!” said Ron. “You just said that to get rid of Neville!”
“Oh, no, you shouldn’t have said that” said Eve, biting her lip to not laugh at Ron’s blunder.
“Oh did I?” said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. “Just because it’s taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn’t mean no one else has spotted I’m a girl!”
Ron stared at her. Then he grinned again.
“Okay, okay, we know you’re a girl,” he said. “That do? Will you come now?”
“I’ve already told you!” Hermione said very angrily. “I’m going with someone else!”
And she stormed off toward the girls’ dormitories again.
“Why is it that every conversation you two have ends up with Hermione leaving in a huff because you said something stupid and tactless?” asked Eve conversationally.
“She’s lying,” said Ron flatly, watching her go.
“She’s not,” said Ginny quietly.
“Who is it then?” said Ron sharply.
“I’m not telling you, it’s her business,” said Ginny.
“Right,” said Ron, who looked extremely put out, “this is getting stupid. Ginny, you can go with Harry, and I’ll just -”
“I can’t,” said Ginny, and she went scarlet too. “I’m going with - with Neville. He asked me when Hermione said no, and I thought… well… I’m not going to be able to go otherwise, I’m not in fourth year.” She looked extremely miserable. “I think I’ll go and have dinner,” she said, and she got up and walked off to the portrait hole, her head bowed.
Ron goggled at Harry.
“What’s got into them?” he demanded.
But Harry had just seen Parvati and Lavender come in through the portrait hole. The time had come for drastic action.
“Wait here,” he said to Ron, and he stood up, walked straight up to Parvati, and said, “Parvati? Will you go to the ball with me?”
Parvati went into a fit of giggles. Harry waited for them to subside, his fingers crossed in the pocket of his robes.
“Yes, all right then,” she said finally, blushing furiously.
“Thanks,” said Harry, in relief. “Lavender - will you go with Ron?”
“She’s going with Seamus,” said Parvati, and the pair of them giggled harder than ever.
Harry sighed.
“Can’t you think of anyone who’d go with Ron?” he said, lowering his voice so that Ron wouldn’t hear.
“What about Hermione Granger?” said Parvati.
“She’s going with someone else.”
Parvati looked astonished.
“Ooooh - who?” she said keenly.
Harry shrugged. “No idea,” he said. “So what about Ron?”
“Well…” said Parvati slowly, “I suppose my sister might… Padma, you know… in Ravenclaw. I’ll ask her if you like.”
“Yeah, that would be great,” said Harry. “Let me know, will you?” And he went back over to Ron, feeling that this ball was a lot more trouble than it was worth, and hoping very much that Padma Patil’s nose was dead center.
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