A Little Help from a Snake // Tomarry

45: The Skrewts Started the Fire

"Well, good-bye, Harry!" Rita Skeeter called merrily. "Until Friday night, then, Hagrid!"

"I hope he didn't import those skrewts illegally or anything," said Hermione desperately.

"Hagrid's been in loads of trouble before, and Dumbledores never sacked him," said Ron consolingly. "Worst that can happen is Hagrid'll have to get rid of the skrewts. Sorry... did I say worst? I meant best."

He and Hermione laughed and set off in slightly better spirits.

"What does Professor Snape want so early?" Blaise wondered, yawning as he slipped into his shoes.

No one answered, too sleepy to give a good guess.

Severus was waiting in the middle of the common room, looking as alert as always. Harry wondered if he had Pepper-up Potion running through his veins. "I have brought you all down here to discuss the Yule Ball that will be held in two weeks."

That certainly woke everyone up. The girls began murmuring among themselves excitedly, while the boys looked apprehensive.

"It is open for fourth years and up, although if you wish to bring a younger student, you may. Since none of you are champions—" Severus' eyes flicked to Harry briefly— "you are not required to attend. However, if you do choose to go, I expect you to behave yourself. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons already have a low opinion of us because of... past events. I do not want it to be a Slythein who tears down what remaining dignity Hogwarts has."

With that said, he dismissed the students.

Daphne nudged Tracey. "Going to ask your boyfriend?" she teased.

"Go dunk your head in a cauldron," Tracey retorted.

"Come on, Trace," Harry said, slinging an arm over her shoulders, "don't leave me hanging."

"Maybe I should dunk my head in a cauldron," Tracey muttered. She pushed Harry's arm off and walked away.

"You're really mean, you know that?" Harry called after her.

Tracey merely flipped him off, using her wand as an extension of her finger. She only dropped it when Severus, who had watched the entire exchange from the side, docked points for vulgar language.

Harry may not have been a champion any longer, and many were still under the illusion he and Tracey were a couple, but that sure as hell didn't stop some girls from approaching him. One of them had been a fifth year, for crying out loud!

"This is getting old," he complained to Remus. "Can't you do something about it?"

Remus just grinned at his distressed cub. "Sorry, Harry, but you're on your own."

Without looking, Harry lobbed his shoe at him. Remus didn't move fast enough and grunted as it hit his hand.

"Be glad it wasn't your other hand," Harry said, pointing a finger at Remus sternly.

Remus looked at him blankly, then sighed loudly and facepalmed.

"Can I have my shoe back?" Harry asked.

Remus grabbed Harry's shoe and threw it back. It landed a few feet away from Harry.

"You have terrible aim," Harry said, reaching down to pick it up.

"Which is why James never asked me to practice Quidditch with him ever again," Remus muttered with a shudder.

That evening, Harry mirror-called Tom to tell him about the ball.

"You don't have to go," Tom said.

"But I don't want the dress robes to go to waste," Harry replied. "Besides, when's the next time we'll have an opportunity like this?"