( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞-𝖔𝖓𝖊 ) — the yule ball

The walls of the Great Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating a dozen people.

The Champions and their partners got into line and followed Professor McGonagall inside. Everyone in the hall applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the room, where the judges were sitting.

At long last, when all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. Evangeline had never heard any of their songs; in her household, it was a cardinal sin to listen to anything other than pure-blood piano music.

They struck up a slow, mournful tune; the brunette observed Harry as he walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, carefully avoiding catching anyone's eye (she could see Seamus and Dean waving at him and sniggering), and next moment, Parvati had seized his hands, placed one around her waist, and was holding the other tightly in hers.

It wasn't as bad as it could've been. In a mere matter of minutes, many of the students had come onto the dance floor, so that the champions were no longer the center of attention. Neville and Ginny were dancing nearby — she could see the ginger girl wincing frequently as the Longbottom boy trod on her feet — and Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. Even Mad-Eye Moody was doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.

Although Evangeline had remained in her seat, her appearance certainly didn't go unnoticed. She was used to crude comments here and there from some of the older boys, but that was just immaturity. However, at the Yule Ball she simply looked bewitching.

Her hair was spelled into tight ringlets, half-up and half-down with a stray strand framing the right side of her face. A gorgeously lapis lazuli necklace proudly laid just above her tasteful cleavage, accompanied by matching drop earrings. The dress was the real star of the show, though — a royal blue silk gown, simple yet stunning.

Fred and George were the only ones with the gall to actually approach her, to which she declined their multiple offers to dance. It would be highly inappropriate, and she didn't need to give Mad-Eye Moody and Karkaroff another reason to add to their reservations about her.

She decided to eventually join Ron and Padma at their table, the latter which eagerly discusses glamour charms with her. Soon enough, Harry returned, dragging along a peeved-looking Parvati.

The Potter boy smiled at Evangline, before taking notice of his best friend's gloomy expression. ''How's it going?'' He asked him, sitting down and opening a bottle of butterbeer.

Ron didn't answer. He was glaring at Hermione Krum, who were dancing nearby. Padma was sitting with her arms and legs crossed, one foot jiggling in time to the music. Every now and then she threw a disgruntled look at Ron, who was completely ignoring her. Parvati sat down on Harry's other side, crossed her arms and legs too, and within minutes was asked to dance by a boy from Beauxbatons.

''You don't mind, do you, Harry?'' She inquired.

But Harry was now too busy watching Cho Chang and Cedric. ''What?''

''Oh, never mind,'' she snapped, going off with the French boy. When the song ended, she did not return.

Hermione came over and sat down in Parvati's empty chair. She was a bit pink in the face from dancing.

''Hi,'' Harry said, filling up for Ron's silence.

''You look as pretty as a picture, Hermione,'' Evangeline complimented her. ''I love what you have done with your hair.''

Hermione blushed bashfully, thanking her teacher before returning the praise. Anyone would have been a fool to not notice the Rosier girls outstanding features and the grace she carried herself with.

''It's hot, isn't it,'' she panted, fanning herself with her hand. ''Viktor's just gone to get us some drinks.''

Ron gave her a withering look. ''Viktor? Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?'' 

Hermione looked at him in surprise. ''What's up with you?''

''If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you.''

Hermione stared at him, then at Harry, who shrugged. ''Ron, what—''

''He's from Durmstrang!'' He spat. ''He's competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You — you're—'' Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione's crime. ''Fraternizing with the enemy, that's what you're doing!''

Hermione's mouth fell open.

''Don't be so stupid!'' She spoke once she collected herself. ''The enemy! Honestly — who was the one who was all excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?''

Evangeline snorted at the Muggle-born girl's last comment, quickly covering her amusement up with a cough. She shared a gleeful glance with Harry instead. It was at times like this she forgot she was their teacher, and not a fellow student.

Ron chose to ignore this. ''I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were both in the library?''

''Yes, he did,'' Hermione retorted, the pink patches on her cheeks glowing more brightly. ''So what?''

''What happened — trying to get him to join spew were you?''

''No, I wasn't! If you really want to know, he — he said he'd been coming up to the library every day to try and talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!''

''Yeah, well — that's his story.''

''And what's that supposed to mean?''

''Obvious, isn't it? He's Karkaroff's student, isn't he? He knows who you hang around with . . . He's just trying to get closer to Harry — get inside information on him — or get near enough to jinx him—''

Hermione looked as if though Ron had just slapped her. Her voice quivered as she spoke.

''For your information, he hasn't asked me one single thing about Harry, not one—''

Ron changed tack at the speed of light.

''Then n he's hoping you'll help him find out what his egg means!I suppose you've been putting your heads together during those cozy little library sessions—''

''I'd never help him work out that egg!'' She exclaimed, outraged. ''Never! How could you say something like that — I want Harry to win the tournament, Harry knows that, don't you, Harry?''

''You've got a funny way of showing it,'' he sneered.

''This whole tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!''

''No, it isn't! It's about winning!''

People were starting to stare at them. Evangeline bit her lip, unsure when to intervene.

''Ron,'' Harry began quietly, noticing the brunette's worry. ''I haven't got a problem with Hermione coming with Krum—''

''Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are.''

''Don't call him Vicky!''

Hermione jumped to her feet and stormed off across the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd. Ron watched her go with a mixture of anger and satisfaction on his face.

''Are you going to ask me to dance at all?'' Padma asked him.

''No.''

She left wordlessly, joining Parvati and the Beauxbatons boy, who conjured up one of his friends to join them so fast that one could have sworn he had zoomed him there by a Summoning Charm.

''Honestly, Ron,'' Evangeline heaved. ''You are off your rocker, aren't you? If you wanted to go with Hermione so badly, you should have plucked up the courage and asked her before someone else did. Not as a last resort; she deserves better than that.''

''It's not that,'' he sulked.

''Whatever it is, I advise you to apologise. The sooner the better,'' she noted, nodding at the approaching boy. ''Or you might lose her for good, and I do not think you want that to happen.''

''Vare is Herm-own-ninny?''

Krum had just arrived at their table clutching two butterbeers.

''No idea,'' Ron looked up at him through his lashes. ''Lost her, have you?''

''Veil, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks,'' he said surlily, before slouching off.

''Made friends with Viktor Krum, have you, Ron?'' Percy had bustled over, rubbing his hands together and looking extremely pompous. ''Excellent! That's the whole point, you know — international magical cooperation!'' He took Padma's vacated seat, sticking his hand out to Evangeline. ''Percy Weasley.''

She shook it, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. They had met before; not only did they spend seven years at school together, but she was also taken in by his family at the Quidditch World Cup. ''Evangeline Rosier.''

The top table was now empty; Professor Dumbledore was dancing with Professor Sprout, Ludo Bagman with Professor McGonagall; Madame Maxime and Hagrid were cutting a wide path around the dance floor as they waltzed through the students, and Karkaroff was nowhere to be seen. When the next song ended, everybody applauded once more, and Harry saw Ludo Bagman kiss Professor McGonagall's hand and make his way back through the crowds, at which point Fred and George accosted him. 

''What do they think they're doing, annoying senior Ministry members?'' Percy hissed,  watching Fred and George suspiciously. ''No respect . . . ''

Ludo Bagman shook off Fred and George fairly quickly, however, and, spotting Harry, waved and came over to their table.

''I hope my brothers weren't bothering you, Mr Bagman?'' Percy said at once.

''What? Oh not at all, not at all! No, they were just telling me a bit more about those fake wands of theirs. Wondering if I could advise them on the marketing. I've promised to put them in touch with a couple of contacts of mine at Zonko's Joke Shop . . . ''

Percy didn't look happy about this at all, and Evangeline was prepared to bet he would be rushing to tell his mother about this the moment he got home. Bagman opened his mouth to ask Harry something, but Percy diverted him.

''How do you feel the tournament's going, Mr. Bagman? Our department's quite satisfied — the hitch with the Goblet of Fire was a little unfortunate, of course,but it seems to have gone very smoothly since, don't you think?''

''Oh, yes,'' Bagman said cheerfully. ''It's all been enormous fun.How's old Barty doing? Shame he couldn't come.''

Oh I'm sure Mr. Crouch will be up and about in no time, but in the meantime, I'm more than willing to take up the slack. Of course, it's not all attending balls—'' He laughed airily. ''Oh no, I've had to deal with all sorts of things that have cropped up in his absence — you heard Ali Bashir was caught smuggling a consignment of flying carpets into the country? And then we've been trying to persuade the Transylvanians to sign the International Ban on Dueling. I've got a meeting with their Head of Magical Cooperation in the new year—''

Evangeline stood up, deliberately knocking an empty goblet over so that it clattered. ''Silly me,'' she smiled apologetically for her uncharacteristic clumsiness. ''I think some fresh air will do me good.''

Harry and Ron excused themselves almost immediately after, excusing themselves under the illusion that they wanted more drinks.

''Thank Merlin that is over,'' the brunette sighed, snatching a glass of Firewhiskey from the teacher's table. ''Percy has not changed one bit, has he?''

''Nope. It's only gotten worse.''

''If only he was a vampire. Maybe then we could ward him off with cloves of garlic.''

a/n     buckle up for the next chapter, it's a wild one ;)