“Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention?”

Professor McGonagall's irritated voice cracked like a whip through the Transfiguration class on Thursday, and Harry and Ron both jumped and looked up.

It was the end of the lesson; they had finished their work; the guinea fowl they had been changing into guinea pigs had been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGonagall's desk (Neville's still had feathers); they had copied down their 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 -”

Lavender Brown let out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry, Professor McGonagall ignored them, which Harry thought was distinctly unfair, as she had just told off him and Ron.

“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. Harry 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 behavior 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.”

Assuming this had something to do with his headless rubber haddock, Harry proceeded gloomily to the teacher's desk. Professor McGonagall waited until the rest of the class had gone, and then said, “Potter, the champions and their partners -”

“What partners?” said Harry.

Profesor McGonagall looked suspiciously at him, as though she thought he was trying to be funny.

“Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter,” she said coldly. “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.”

Harry had a sudden mental image of himself in a top hat and tails, accompanied by a girl in the sort of frilly dress Aunt Petunia always wore to Uncle Vernon's work parties.

“I'm not dancing,” he said.

“It is traditional,” said Professor McGonagall firmly. “You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Potter.”

“But - I don't -”

“You heard me, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall in a very final sort of way.

　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*

A week ago. Harry would have said finding a partner for a dance would be a cinch compared to taking on a Hungarian Horntail. But now that he had done the latter, and was facing the prospect of asking a girl to the ball, he thought he'd rather have another round with the dragon.

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. “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.”

In tribute to their recently repaired friendship, Ron had kept the bitterness in his voice to a bare minimum. Moreover, to Harry's amazement, he 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.”

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.

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 tip-off 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 - and just to heighten Harry's feeling of well-being, no story about Hagrid had appeared in the Daily Prophet.

“She didn’ seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth,” Hagrid said, when Harry, Ron, and Hermione asked him how his interview with Rita Skeeter had gone during the last Care of Magical Creatures lesson of the term. To their very great relief, Hagrid had given up on direct contact with the skrewts now, and they were merely sheltering behind his cabin today, sitting at a trestle table and preparing a fresh selection of food with which to tempt the skrewts.

“She jus’ wanted me ter talk about you, Harry,” Hagrid continued in a low voice. “Well, I told her we'd been friends since I went ter fetch yeh from the Dursleys. ‘Never had to tell him off in four years?’ she said. ‘Never played you up in lessons, has he?’ I told her no, an she didn’ seem happy at all. Yeh'd think she wanted me to say yeh were horrible, Harry.”

“'Course she did,” said Harry, throwing lumps of dragon liver into a large metal bowl and picking up his knife to cut some more. “She can't keep writing about what a tragic little hero I am, it'll get boring.”

“She wants a new angle, Hagrid,” said Ron wisely as he shelled salamander eggs. “You were supposed to say Harry's a mad delinquent!”

“But he's not!” said Hagrid, looking genuinely shocked.

“She should've interviewed Snape,” said Harry grimly. “He'd give her the goods on me any day. ‘Potter has been crossing lines ever since he first arrived at this school.…'”

“Said that, did he?” said Hagrid, while Ron and Hermione laughed. “Well, yeh might've bent a few rules. Harry, bu’ yeh're all righ’ really, aren’ you?”

“Cheers, Hagrid,” said Harry, grinning.

“You coming to this ball thing on Christmas Day, Hagrid?” said Ron.

“Though’ I might look in on it, yeah,” said Hagrid gruffly. “Should be a good do, I reckon. You'll be openin the dancin', won yeh, Harry? Who're you takin'?”

“No one, yet,” said Harry, feeling himself going red again. Hagrid didn't pursue the subject.

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 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 rereading Flying with the Cannons for the tenth time in an armchair near the fire.

Hermione looked severely over at him too. “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 Joey Jenkins of the Cannons belt a Bludger toward a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.

“That egg!” Hermione hissed.

“Come on, Hermione, I've got till February the twenty-fourth,” Harry said.

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!”

“Leave him alone, Hermione, he's earned a bit of a break,” said Ron, and he placed the last two cards on top of the castle and the whole lot blew up, singeing his eyebrows.

“Nice look, Ron…go well with your dress robes, that will.”

It was Fred and George. They sat down at the table with Harry, Ron, and 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. “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.

“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, “Oi! Angelina!”

Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, 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 across the smoldering wreck of his card castle 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.

　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*　　　　　*

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.

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.

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.

“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.

He couldn't ask her. He couldn't. But he had to. Cho stood there looking puzzled, watching him. 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.

“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.

“What's up, Ron?” said Harry, joining them.

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, 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 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.

“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.

“彼特！威斯里！你们注意听，好不好？“

　　麦康娜被激怒的沙哑的声音像鞭子一样席卷了星期四那天的变形课，哈利和罗恩都跳了起来，抬头干望着。

　　那时候快下课了，他们都已完成了自己的事情；珍珠鸡被他们变成了珍珠猪，后又把它变回到了麦康娜教授的讲台上的那大笼子里（尼维尔的珍珠猪还有鸡毛呢），他们从黑板上抄下了作业（对变形等咒语在完成变种中的运用方式进行描述和举例）。就快下课了，所以，哈利和罗恩在课室后面用弗来德和乔治的假魔杖打剑战。他们现在都停下来，抬起头望着黑板，罗恩手里抓着一只锡制的鹦鹉，而哈利，则拿着一条橡皮鳄鱼。

　　“现在，波特和威斯里都已经很乖了，懂事了，”麦康娜教授说，又生气地看了看他们。因为哈利和那条鳄鱼的头垂了下来，碰到了地面——罗恩的鹦鹉就用嘴去啄它——“我有事要跟大家宣布一下——”

　　“圣诞节舞会就快到了——三巫师争霸赛的一个传统部分，也是和外国宾客交流的机会。现在，舞会只对四年级以上学生开放——但是你们也可以邀请一个低年级学生，如果你们喜欢的话——”

　　莱文德。布朗禁不住咯咯地笑出声，声音很刺耳。帕活提。帕提碰了碰她的肋骨，很生气地看着她，自己却努力地控制着自己不要笑出声来。她们俩都回头看了看哈利。麦康娜教授没注意到她们，因此，哈利觉得太不公平了，因为刚才他和罗恩差点受到训斥。

　　“一定要穿礼服，”麦康娜教授继续说，“舞会从圣诞节那天晚上八点开始，午夜结束，在大会厅进行。现在——”

　　麦康娜教授不慌不忙地扫视了一下全班。

　　“圣诞舞会当然是一次很好的机会，嗯——可以让我们尽情欢乐。”她以很不以为然的口气说道。

　　莱文德笑得更厉害了，一只手捂着嘴不让自己笑出声来、哈利现在知道为什么这么好笑了：麦康娜教授，脑后盘着一个很紧的发髻，看起来好像从没把头发放下来过。（英语里，“把头发放下来”指尽情欢乐的意思。）

　　“但并不是说，”麦康娜教授继续说，“我们会对霍格瓦彻学生的行为准则有所放松。如果有一个格林芬顿学生在任何一方面使学校感到难堪的话，我将会非常不高兴。”

　　铃声响了，每个人都整理着书包，挎上肩膀，像往常一样争先恐后地跑出教室。

　　麦康娜教授在这片嘈杂声中大声叫着：“波特——你还有点事，请先别走。”

　　哈利猜想到可能是有关他那条没头的橡皮鳄鱼，所以低垂着头走到讲台边。

　　麦康娜教授等到全班人都走后，说，“波特，冠军们和他们的舞伴——”

　　“什么舞伴？”哈利问。

　　麦康娜教授很疑惑地望着他，好像他是想搞笑才这么问的。

　　“你圣诞舞会上的舞伴呀，波特，”她冷冷地说，“你的舞伴。”

　　哈利的肠胃好像盘绕在一起后又缩拢了，“舞伴？”

　　他感觉到自己脸红了。“我不会跳舞。”他马上搪塞。

　　“哦，不，你会的，”麦康娜教授有点被激怒了。“这就是我要跟你说的事了。一直以来，舞会都是为冠军和他们的舞伴而开的。”

　　哈利在脑海里想象着自己头戴一顶高帽子，身穿燕尾服，由一个穿着一身带折过的晚礼服的女孩子陪伴着，那带折边的晚礼服就像帕尤妮亚姨妈经常穿去参加维能姨丈的公司晚会那样。

　　“我不会跳舞。”他说。

　　“那是传统的事情呀，”麦康娜教授坚定地说。“你是一个霍格瓦彻冠军，你应该作为学校的代表，做我们期望你去做的事情。所以请一定要找到一个舞伴，波特。”

　　“但是——我不会——”

　　“我该说的都说了，波特。”麦康娜教授以结束谈话的口气说。

　　要是一个星期以前，哈利会说我找一个舞伴比起跟匈牙利的号尾龙较量要容易得多。但现在因为他已跟号尾龙较量过了，而面临着如何去邀请一个女孩参加舞会，他宁愿和号尾龙进行多一轮的比赛。

　　哈利从没想过会有这么多人登记留下在霍格瓦彻过圣诞节。他经常都是留在学校过圣诞节的，因为，除此之外就是回到普里怀特街。

　　但是今年，每个四年级以上的学生好像都留下了，哈利觉得他们也被舞会困扰着——或者说，至少，全部女生都是这样的。霍格瓦彻一下子要容纳这么多女孩子，那会是多么壮观啊，他以前怎么从没注意到过呢。你看，有的女孩子在走廊里咯咯笑着，还窃窃私语呢；有的女孩子，有男生经过她们身边时，她们就尖声笑着；还有的在那里交流着圣诞节晚上该穿什么衣服……

　　“她们干嘛总是要成群结队地走呢？”哈利问罗恩，因为他看到了十几个女孩子经过他们身边，窃笑着盯着他看。“你以为该怎么邀请她们呢？”

　　“套一个，怎么样？”罗恩建议道。“想好了邀请谁没有？”

　　哈利没有回答。他当然很清楚自己喜欢邀请谁，但是鼓起勇气又是另一回事了……卓比他大一岁，很漂亮，又是一个很优秀的快迪斯运动员，而且又很受欢迎，人缘很好。

　　罗恩似乎知道哈利在想什么。

　　“听着，你不会有任何困难的。你是一个冠军，你已经击败了一个匈牙利号尾龙。我打赌她们会排队等着你邀请的。”

　　为了他们刚刚挽回的友谊，罗恩尽量把这种难堪降到最小。还有，令哈利深感惊奇的是，后来发生的事证明罗恩说的话是对的。

　　第二天，就有一个海夫巴夫三年级的卷发女孩来请他一起参加舞会，这个人哈利可从没跟她说过话。哈利甚至还没考虑就拒绝了她，这令他自己都感到很吃惊。就因为这个女孩子，哈利不得不在魔法历史这堂课上忍受迪恩、西摩斯、罗恩的辱骂。第三天，又有两个女孩子来请他，一个是二年级的，一个是五年级的（这令他感到很荣幸），如果哈利拒绝的话，第二个看起来好像会把哈利一拳击昏一样。

　　“她长得还蛮好看的嘛。”罗恩笑完了后说。

　　“她比我高一英尺呢，”哈利说，一脸气馁的样子。“你想象一下我和她跳舞时会是什么样子就知道了。”

　　荷米恩关于克伦的那番话不断地在他脑海里回荡着。“她们喜欢他只是因为他出名嘛！”哈利很怀疑，如果他不是学校冠军的话，那么那些邀请他的女孩子还会不会邀请他呢。接着他又想，如果是卓邀请他，他还会不会这么烦呢。

　　总的来说，哈利不得不承认虽然开舞会的事令他很尴尬，但是自从他完成了第一个任务后，他的生活还是很明显地改善了。他不再碰到曾发生在走廊里的那些不愉快的事了。他怀疑这跟塞德里克有关——他认为是塞德里克叫海夫巴那群人不要招惹他的。为了报答他通知他龙来了那件事。好像最近也少了很多支持塞德里克的呼声了。杰高。马尔夫当然还是在每个可能的时候跟他说出理特。史姬特的文章，但是现在他已感觉到这并没有什么好笑的了——这只是提起了哈利的幸福感，《先知日报》上没有有关哈格力的消息。

　　“跟你老实说，她好像对魔幻生灵并不感兴趣，”哈格力低声说。

　　“好了，我告诉她从我去达德里家接你开始，我们就是朋友了。‘四年来没有训斥过他？’她说，请没有在课堂上惹你恼火？我告诉她说没有，她好像很不高兴。哈利，你可能会认为她想要我说你很可怕。”

　　“她当然是这样想的，”哈利说着，边把几块龙的肝脏扔进一个大金属碗里，拿起他的刀子切了一些出来。“她老是写我是一个怎样的悲剧性小英雄，这样会很无聊的。”

　　“她想要一只新角，哈格力，”罗恩边说边剥着火衡锡蛋壳。“你应该说哈利是一个发疯的犯罪狂！”

　　“但他不是呀！”哈格力很震惊地说。

　　“她早该采访史纳皮了，”哈利很生气地说。“他什么时候都可能在她面前把我的好事给抖出来：波特一来到学校后，就老出错……”

　　“他那样说了？”哈格力说，而罗恩和荷米恩在笑。“好了，别那么认真了，哈利，你现在伤都好了吧，是吧？”

　　“谢谢你，哈格力。”哈利露出了笑脸。

　　“哈格力，圣诞舞会你参加吧？‘罗恩问。

　　“我想我会去看一下的。”哈格力粗哑地说，“肯定很好玩，我想，你会先跳，宣告舞会开始，是吧，哈利？你会带谁去呢？”

　　“没有，还没找到。”哈利说着，感觉自己又脸红了。哈格力也没有再继续这个话题了。

　　学期的最后一个星期变得越来越喧闹了。关于圣诞舞会的谣传到处飞来飞去，但是哈利并没有全都听信——比如说，丹伯多已经从罗丝玛特夫人那里买了八百桶加了香料的蜜洒。那听起来有可能是真的，并且，他还已经预订了非常姐妹。事实上，那个非常姐妹是谁或者是什么东西，哈利一点也不知道，他从没拥有过一个巫师收音机，但是，从那些从小听巫师无线广播长大的人的狂喜劲儿推测出那是一个很有名的歌唱组合。

　　一些老师，像菲利特威克教授，看到同学们的心都不知道飞到哪里去的时候，就停止讲课了，他允许同学们在他星期三的课上玩游戏，而他自己就把大部分时间花在和波特讲那次波特的第一次任务——三巫师争霸赛上波特运用的巧妙的召唤符咒。其它老师就没有这么大方了。比如，宾西教授，从有关妖魔起义的那部分笔记一直讲啊讲——好像就算他垂危了，他也不会停止讲课一样。因此他们认为像圣诞节这样的小事是不可能让他停下来的。多么了不起啊！他把妖魔暴动讲得更血腥，更污秽了，听起来像伯希的大汽锅似的报告——又长又臭。麦康娜教授和莫迪教授则上课上到临近下课的那最后一秒，史纳皮当然也不例外了。他很不怀好意地看着全班，好像在告诫他们，本学期的最后一堂课他会用来测验他们的毒物解毒能力。

　　“简直是恶魔啊。”罗恩那天晚上在格林芬顿的公共休息室里苦苦地说，“最后一天进行测验，学期末放假的欢愉气氛都被那一大堆总复习一扫而光了。”

　　“嗯……你不会这么折磨自己吧？”荷米恩说着，从正在复习的药剂笔记上抬头望着他。罗恩正在忙于用爆炸牌建他的纸牌堡垒——比玩马格牌更有趣，因为整个堡垒随时会爆炸。

　　“是圣诞节啊！”荷米恩哈利懒洋洋地说，他躺在火炉边的安乐椅上，读了第十遍《驾着大炮一起飞翔》。

　　荷米恩也严肃地看了他。“我以为你在做些什么有建设性的事情呢！”

　　“像什么？”哈利说，看着《火炮》里面的“约。佐金斯用一根短棒绑着一个伯希城堡巴辞的追捕者”。

　　“蛋！”荷米恩嘘声说。

　　“哎，荷米恩，我二月二十四号那天会知道的。”哈利说。

　　他把金蛋放在楼上的衣箱里，自从第一次任务的那个庆功晚会后，他就再没打开过。毕竟，离他需要知道所有这些尖叫的哀号声是什么意思，还有两个半月呢。

　　“可能要好几个星期才能想到呢！”荷米恩说。“到时如果人人都知道了下一任务是什么，就你不知道，你就像傻子一样了！”

　　“别管他，荷米恩，他需要休息。”罗恩说，把最后两张牌摆放在堡垒顶上，接着整一个就爆炸开了，烧到了他的眉毛。

　　“很好看啊，罗恩……那和你的礼服很衬呢，真的。”

　　是弗来德和乔治。他们和哈利、罗恩和荷米思一起在桌子旁坐下了，这时，罗恩感到他把事情搞严重了。

　　“罗恩，我们可以借你的皮威军吗？”乔治问。

　　“不行，它现在正去送信呢，”罗恩说。“什么事吗？”

　　“因为乔治想邀请它去舞会，”弗来德挖苦道。

　　“因为我们要寄信啊，傻瓜。”乔治说。

　　“你们老是在跟谁写信啊？”罗恩说。

　　“把鼻子伸出来，罗恩，要不，我把你也烧了，”弗来德，威胁性地挥着魔杖。“所以……你们都找到舞伴了没有？”

　　“没有。”罗恩说。

　　“好了，你们最好赶快行动吧，老友，要不，好的都被别人请走了。”弗来德说。

　　“你会跟谁一起去呀？”罗恩说。

　　“安琪儿。琳娜。”弗来德脱口而出，一点也不尴尬。

　　“什么？”罗恩说，吃了一惊。“你已经邀请她了？”

　　“对了，”弗来德说，转过头来，向休息室喊了声，“喂！安琪儿。琳娜！”

　　安琪儿。琳娜正在火边和阿丽希尔聊天呢，这时转过头来，看了看他。

　　“什么事？”她回应着。

　　“想和我一起去参加舞会吗？”

　　安琪儿。琳娜用评价的眼光看了看弗来德。

　　“好吧。”她说，又转过身和阿丽希尔聊天了，脸上挂着一丝笑容。

　　“你们看到了吧？”弗来德对着哈利和罗恩说，“容易得很。”

　　他站了起来，打了一个呵欠，说，“我们最好用学校那只猫头鹰吧，乔治，快点……”

　　他们走了。罗恩不再想他的眉毛了，看了看冒着烟的城堡的残骸，又望了一眼哈利。

　　“我们是该行动了……邀请某些人。他说的对，我们不能以一对山精的形像出现吧。”

　　荷米恩很愤怒地吐了口口水。“一对什么……再说一次？”

　　“好了——你知道的，”罗恩说，耸了耸肩，“我真的宁愿一个人去——如果要和艾罗丝。米更去的话。”

　　“她的鼻子好像长歪了。”罗恩说。

　　“哦，我明白了，”荷米恩说，气得毛发竖起来。“‘所以简单地说，你就是想找一个最好看的女孩子，即使她很可怕？”

　　“呃——是，差不多了。”罗恩说。

　　“我去睡觉了。”荷米恩打断了他，什么话也没再说就昂首走向了女生的楼梯间。

　　霍格瓦彻的工作人员，想要给从比斯贝顿和丹姆斯安来的参观者留下深刻印像，已经决定在这个圣诞节把城堡最好的一面显示出来。在装饰物开始抬上去的时候，哈利才发现这是学校里面他所见到过的最令人惊叹的东西。冰柱固定在楼梯的栏杆上，那十二棵圣诞树仍像往常一样摆在大会厅里，装饰的东西什么都有，发亮的空心浆果，真的大声叫的金色的猫头鹰，它们还会唱颂歌呢。听着由只懂得一半歌词的空盔甲唱出“噢，来吧，所有真诚的”，感觉真的很不一样。好几次，费驰都要把皮维斯从盔甲里面拉出来，（皮维斯喜欢躲在那里）用自己写的抒情诗给歌填词，但是那些词都是粗俗得要命。

　　哈利仍没去邀请卓参加舞会。他和罗恩现在都变得很紧张，虽然哈利说过，罗恩如果有舞伴的话，看起来更傻，但哈利应该是和其他冠军一起先挑的。

　　“我想呜咽的米尔特也去吧。”他很忧郁地说，指的是缠绕在二楼女生厕所里的那个鬼魂。

　　“哈利——我们得赶紧试一下了，”罗恩星期五早上说，那口气好像表明他们在计划着要冲破一座不可攻破的堡垒。“今晚我们回到公共休息室时，我们都会有舞伴的——好吗？”

　　“呃……好的。”哈利说。

　　但那天他每一次看卓的时候——休息时，午餐时，在去上魔法历史课时——她身边总是围着一大群朋友。难道她没有单独去哪里的吗？或许，他可以藏在她去上洗手间的路上，不，那也不可能——她好像上厕所都有四五个女孩子护送着。但如果他不马上行动的话，她肯定会被其他人邀请的。

　　他发现他没办法集中精神做史纳皮的解毒法的测验，老是忘了加一种重要的成分——一种巴佐——意味着他会得低分。但是他不管，他正在想怎样鼓起勇气去做他要去做的事情。铃声一响，他抓起书包就冲向了牢门。

　　“吃饭的时间见。”他对罗恩和荷米恩说，就冲上了楼梯。

　　他只需要和卓单独谈谈，仅此而已……她穿过走廊上拥挤的人群，找寻着她的身影，而（出乎意料的）他很快就找到她了，她正在上防黑巫术课。

　　“呃——卓？我能和你说句话吗？”

　　咯咯笑应该被规定为犯法的，哈利很生气地想着，因为卓旁边的全部女生都笑了。但是，她没有笑她说：“好的。”然后跟着他走出去。

　　哈利转身看着她，他的胃七上八下地翻转了一番，好像刚踩空了一格楼梯。

　　“呃。”他说。

　　他不能就这样问她，他不能。但他必须这样做，单站在那里，很迷惑地望着他。

　　不知怎的，哈利就进出了一句，又快又模糊。

　　“想和我去舞会吗？”

　　“什么？”卓说。

　　“你想不想——想不想和我一起去参加舞会？”哈利说。为什么他的脸要变红呢？为什么？

　　“哦！”卓说，脸也变红了。“哦，哈利，很抱歉，真的很抱歉，”她也知道了。“我已经答应别人了。”

　　“哦。”哈利说。

　　很奇怪呀，一分钟以前，他的五脏六腑还像蛇一样在扭动着，现在突然感到好像没有五脏六腑一样。

　　“哦，行。”他说，“没问题，没事。”

　　“我真的很抱歉。”她又说了一遍。

　　“没事的。”哈利说。

　　他们站在那里看着对方，然后卓说，“好了——”

　　“嗯。”哈利说。

　　“那，再见了。”卓说，脸还很红。然后走开了。

　　哈利在后面喊着她，因为他控制不住自己。

　　“你和谁去？”

　　“哦——塞德里克，”她说，“塞德里克。迪格瑞。”

　　“哦，好的。”哈利说。

　　他的五脏六腑又回来了，好像这次是装满了铅似的。

　　他完完全全地忘了吃饭了，慢慢地走回了格林芬顿塔，每走一步，耳边就回荡起卓的声音，“塞德里克——塞德里克。迪格瑞。”现在他突然意识到，塞德里克实际上只是一个没用的奶油小生，根本就是没脑筋。

　　“仙女神灯。“他忧郁地对着胖大婶说——暗语已经在前几天改了。

　　“唉，来了，亲爱的！”她颤声说，弄了弄她那新的闪亮的发髻，摇摆着出来迎他。

　　进入到了公共休息室，哈利环顾了四周，使他感到惊奇的是，罗恩沉着脸坐在很远的一个角落，金妮坐在他身边，用很小的，安慰似的声音跟他说话。

　　“发生了什么事，罗恩？”哈利说，也围了上去。

　　罗恩抬头看了看哈利，脸出显出一种盲目的恐惧。

　　“我为什么要那样做呢？”他死死地追问。“我不知道撞了什么邪才那样做！”

　　“什么呀？”哈利问。

　　“他——呃，刚刚邀请了芙璐·迪来高去参加舞会。”金妮说。她好像要强挤出笑脸，但是，又总是同情地拍了拍罗恩的手臂。

　　“你什么？”哈利说。

　　“我不知道为什么会那样做！”罗恩喘息着说。“我到底在搞什么呀？那时候很多人——围在那里——我快疯了一每个人都在看着我！我在大会厅里走过她身边——她在那里和迪格瑞说话——我突然想到了——就走过去邀请她了！”

　　罗恩咕哝着，双手捂着脸。他不断在那里讲，虽然有时模糊不清的。“她看我就像在看一只海里的蛞蝓或其他东西，甚至不回答我。

　　那时——我不知道——只是突然想到，就问了。“

　　“她才是十足的蛞蝓。”哈利说，“你说得对——她奶奶就是一只蛞蝓。那不是你的错，你只是在她向迪格瑞施展魅力的时候，经过她身边，然后受了影响——但是，她是在浪费自己的时间，他已经找了卓了。”

　　罗恩抬起头。

　　“刚才我邀请了她和我一起去，”哈利很丧气地说，“是她告诉我的。”

　　“这可真荒唐，”罗恩说，“我们就是剩下那些没舞伴的人了——嗯，除了尼维尔。喂——猜一请他邀请谁了？哈利！”

　　“什么？”哈利说，完全被这个爆炸性的新闻吸引住了。

　　“哎，我知道！”罗恩说，他开始笑了，脸上又有了光彩。“他药剂课后告诉我的！他说她真的很可爱，一直以来都在他需要帮助的时候帮助他——但她却告诉他，她已经答应了别人。哈！才怪呢！她只是不想和尼维尔一起去呀……我说，谁想呢？”

　　“嘘！”金妮说，很恼怒，“别笑——”

　　就在这时，荷米恩从壁画里的洞爬了进来。

　　“你们两个怎么不吃饭呢？”她说，走了过来。

　　“因为——唉，别说了，他们两个——因为他们邀请了女孩子，但都被拒绝了！”金妮说。

　　那可真让哈利和罗恩闭嘴了。

　　“太感谢你了，金妮。”罗恩很生气地说。

　　“所有漂亮女孩都被邀请了吗，罗恩？”荷米恩很高傲地说。“艾罗丝。米更好像越来越好看了，你们觉得吗？好了，我相信你们终会找到舞伴的。”

　　罗恩，目不转睛地盯着荷米恩看，好像突然在新的光线下看一样。“罗恩，尼维尔说得对——你是一个很……的女孩子。”

　　“噢。很受人注意，是吧？”她尖刻地说。

　　“好吧——你们可以跟我们中任何一个人去！”

　　“不，我不能。”荷米恩打断说。

　　“唉，好啦，”他不耐烦地说，“我们需要舞伴呀！如果我们没有的话，会很难堪的，其他人都有……”

　　“我不能和你们去，”荷米恩说，脸红了，“因为我已经答应了和别人去了。”

　　“不，你撒谎！”罗恩说，“你刚才那样说是为了摆脱尼维尔！”

　　“噢，是吗？”荷米恩眼睛很危险地闪了一闪说。“那是因为你需要三年才能注意到，但并不代表没人认出我是个女孩呀！”

　　罗恩瞪着她，然后又咧嘴笑了。

　　“好了，行了，我们知道你是个女孩，”他说，“行了吧？现在可以和我们一起去了吧？”

　　“我已经告诉你们了！”荷米恩很生气地说。“我要和别人去！”

　　接着，她又猛地冲向女生宿舍去了。

　　“她在撒谎。”罗恩望着她走出去肯定地说。

　　“她没有。”金妮安然地说。

　　“那么，那个人是谁呢？”罗恩尖锐地说。

　　“我不会告诉你的，这是她的事。”金妮说。

　　“好，”罗恩说，被气得无可奈何，“这真是越来越无聊了。金妮，你可以和哈利一起去，而我只能——”

　　“不行，”金妮说，脸也红了。“我要和——和尼维尔去的。他在被荷米恩拒绝后邀请了我，我想……哎……反正我又不能参加，我又不是四年级的。”她看上去很痛苦的样子。“我想去吃饭了。”她说着，站起来走到了壁画洞口，垂头丧气的。

　　罗恩瞪大眼睛看着哈利。

　　“她们怎么了？”他问道。

　　而哈利刚才只是看到帕维提和莱文德从壁画口进来。看来是该采取大行动了。

　　“等着。”他对罗恩说。说完就起来，直直走到帕维提跟前，“帕维提，可以和我一起去参加舞会吗？”

　　帕维提咯咯笑了起来。哈利在等着她笑完，手指交叉在长袍的口袋里，默默祈祷着。

　　“嗯，好吧。”她终于答应了，满脸通红的。

　　“谢谢，”哈利说，松了一口气，“莱文德——你能和罗恩一起去吗？”

　　“她已经和西摩斯了。”帕维提说，她们两个笑得更厉害了。

　　哈利叹了一口气。

　　“你们中没有想要和罗恩一起去的吗？”他说，压低着声音以免让罗恩听到。

　　“那荷米恩。格林佐呢？”帕维提说。

　　“她会和别人去。”

　　帕维提吃了一惊。

　　“呃——谁呀？”她很急切地问。

　　哈利耸了耸肩。“不知道。”他说。“那罗恩呢？”

　　“哎……”帕维提慢悠悠地说，“我想我姐可以……帕得玛，你认识的……在卫文卡罗。我去问一下她，看她愿不愿意去。”

　　“哎，那最好不过了。”哈利说。“有消息通知我，好吗？”

　　他又回到罗恩身边了，心里想这个舞伴要比舞会本身麻烦多了，祈祷着帕维提。帕提的鼻子不要真的长歪了。

欢迎访问英文小说网http://novel.tingroom.com