They walked along the fourth-floor corridor, and Ron’s mood was foul. Hogwarts seemed to have gone completely mad. Wherever you turned, you bumped into giggling couples or someone discussing dress robes.
‘I just can’t catch her alone,’ Harry complained, irritably adjusting his bag strap. ‘It’s impossible, Ron. They move like a battle formation. Cho’s always in the middle, surrounded by her friends. The moment I get close they close ranks and start giggling. I feel like an idiot trying to break through their defences. You’d need an Invisibility Cloak to get near her, honestly!’
Ron gave a heavy sigh, shoving his hands into his pockets.
‘At least you’ve got someone to break through to, Harry. I look around… and it feels like all the decent girls have been taken. We left it too late. The good ones are gone; all that’s left are the ones with worse tempers than a Blast-Ended Skrewt.’
In the same instant he received a sharp elbow in the ribs. The blow was precise, vicious and painful.
‘Ow!’ Ron jumped aside, rubbing his side. ‘What was that for?!’
Hermione walked beside them, staring straight ahead. Her face was as impassive as a stone wall.
‘Oh, sorry,’ she said in an icy tone laced with more venom than a Basilisk’s fang. ‘My mistake.’
Ron looked at her in bewilderment, then at Harry and Kieran. They merely shrugged.
She’s gone completely round the bend, Ron thought. Probably fuming because no one’s asked her. Girls…
But he didn’t have time to finish the thought.
Coming towards them, cutting through the stream of students like an icebreaker, came a group of three Slytherin girls. At the centre strode Daphne Greengrass — tall, blonde, with an expression as though something smelled foul under her nose but she was too well-bred to mention it. Flanking her like bodyguards walked Tracey Davis and Pansy Parkinson.
They moved in perfect coordination and speed. Without breaking stride, the Slytherins crashed into their group, roughly shoving Hermione one way and Ron and Harry the other. In an instant Kieran was surrounded. Daphne planted herself squarely in front of him; Davis and Parkinson blocked any retreat on the sides.
It looked menacing. Harry’s hand twitched towards his wand — reflex — but he froze when he saw no wands in the Slytherin girls’ hands.
Kieran stood calmly, though boxed in on every side. He looked down at Greengrass with open puzzlement.
Daphne raised her hand and jabbed a perfectly manicured finger into his chest.
‘You will go to the ball with me,’ she stated. It sounded not like an invitation but a tribunal’s sentence.
Morgan didn’t even blink.
‘Why?’ he asked with genuine doubt. ‘I wasn’t planning to go at all. It’s noisy and boring.’
Daphne narrowed her eyes and jabbed again, harder, forcing him to take half a step back until his shoulders met the wall.
‘You will go to the ball with me, Morgan. I received a letter from Father this morning. He does not recommend — he orders me to appear with you. And do you know what that means?’
She paused, boring into him with her stare.
‘It means you’ll receive a letter too. And if you’re asking stupid questions, your owl’s simply got held up. The Greengrasses and Morgans are to be seen together. The decision is made and not open to discussion.’
Kieran winced as though from a headache but remained polite.
‘Daphne, sorry, but this is rubbish. If I were going at all, I’d—’
He broke off and cast a quick glance towards Hermione, who stood against the wall clutching her books to her chest, looking as though she had first wanted to charge into battle but in the next second decided she’d rather vanish. Hermione flushed slightly but tossed her hair defiantly, as though shaking off unwanted thoughts.
Greengrass caught the glance instantly. She didn’t even turn her head towards the Gryffindor girl, merely gave a contemptuous huff.
‘Granger’s already been asked,’ she cut in. ‘So that option’s off the table. And no one’s asking you, Kieran. And for Merlin’s sake, make an effort to look perfect. Don’t you dare disgrace me.’
‘You too…’ Kieran tried weakly to retort, but he already knew he’d lost.
Daphne lifted her chin proudly, smoothed her impeccably arranged hair and threw over her shoulder as she turned:
‘I’m always impeccable. Collect me from the dungeons half an hour before it starts. Come along, girls.’
The ring broke apart. The Slytherins spun on their heels and glided away down the corridor, leaving behind a trail of expensive scent and a faint sense of humiliation.
Ron and Harry stood trying to pick their jaws off the floor.
‘That’s what I call an invitation,’ Harry said with a nervous laugh, nudging the stunned Morgan in the shoulder. ‘Romance, eh? “You’re going because Father said so.” Congratulations, Kieran — you’re in.’
‘Well, yes,’ Kieran muttered, rubbing his chest. ‘Romantic isn’t the word.’
Ron, digesting what he’d heard, suddenly latched onto one detail. Greengrass’s words echoed in his head. He turned to Hermione, who still stood against the wall, flushed and dishevelled.
‘Hang on,’ he blurted, genuine astonishment bordering on rudeness in his voice. ‘Who asked you, then? Greengrass said you were taken. Seriously? And why didn’t you say anything? We’re racking our brains here, and it turns out you’ve…’
The reaction was instantaneous. Hermione’s head snapped up, eyes flashing with fury.
‘That is absolutely none of your business, Ronald Weasley!’ she snapped, so sharply the echo rolled down the corridor.
She shoved past Ron with her shoulder, pushing the boys aside, and strode away at almost a run, clutching her books to her chest like a shield.
Ron staggered, staring after her in complete incomprehension.
‘There she goes again,’ he said indignantly, spreading his arms as he turned to Harry and Kieran. ‘I only asked! What did I say wrong? Girls have gone completely barmy over this ball!’
Harry and Kieran exchanged a glance.
‘Yeah,’ Harry said thoughtfully. ‘Completely barmy.’