CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
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-: sixth year :-
── IN WHICH THEY PRACTISE FOR THE BALL
. . .
As it turned out, Fred, George and Rosie would never end up trying out the products that day. This was because just after lunch, the whole of the upper Gryffindor house - well those who had stayed behind - were called into one of the larger, upstairs classrooms.
"Oh Merlin this is chaos." Rosie announced, as her and the twins stepped inside the room. The classroom had been emptied of all furniture, and the Kersey girl was surprised to find just how much larger the classroom appeared with no furniture.
And she didn't lie, although the Gryffindor students were seated on opposite sides of rooms, many were shouting and yelling, some of the fourth years and even the third years that would be attending the ball with an older date, had produced a few paper airplanes which were flying around above their heads.
Headache already forming, Rosie told the twins to go ahead and get them some seats. She wanted to sort out the noise - and luckily, a reason hurried up the corridor just behind her.
She cleared her throat, closing the door for just a moment. "Oi you lot!" She yelled, and somehow, it was loud enough to get peoples attention. "McGonagall's coming." Rosie said, at a much quieter tone.
Her words instantly got their attention, and everyone scrambled into a much more organised state. Rosie it was glad that it was McGonagall on her way, rather than anyone else - she tended to never take any bullshit, and she had gotten a powerful reputation for doing so.
"Afternoon Professor." Rosie grinned, opening the door just before the teacher opened it herself, hand outstretched. McGonagall looked slightly suspicious for a while, stepping into the room, robes swirling behind her.
She spotted one of the rogue paper airplanes, and flicking her wand towards it, it transfigured into a bird, flying out of the single open window at the end of the room, that let in the cold winter breeze, that kept the room rather cold.
"Mr McLaggen, would you mind shutting the window?" McGonagall asked the blonde Gryffindor boy, who did it without question. Rosie climbed up next to Fred and George, who had chosen a windowsill to sit on.
Behind McGonagall, Filch hurried in, beginning to fiddle with the large gramphone. "The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since it's inception." McGonagall started, throwing Filch and the gramaphone a few choice looks before she stepped forward.
"On Christmas day night, we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally because the Yule Ball, is first and foremost a dance." McGonagall said.
Whilst this wasn't really a shock to most people with brains - a ball had always included dancing - a few students began whispering, as if they hadn't expected this.
"Silence." McGonagall held up her hands as a few of those whispers turned to angry grumbles and complaints - mostly from the boys. "The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizarding world for nearly ten centuries, I will not have any of you in the course of a single evening besmirching that names by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons."
"Try saying that five times faster." George whispered to his two best friends. Instantly, the trio began mumbling it to themselves, eventually getting tongue tied.
"-is to let the body breathe." McGonagall said, and Rosie focused back on the teacher. "Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight." As McGonagall gestured to the opposite side of the room, it was then that Rosie realised that it wasn't a mix of students either side, and she was sat on the male side of the room.
"Something's about to burst out of Eloise Midgen, but I don't think it's a swan." Ron mumbled to Seamus, the pair laughing, but only for a moment as Rosie leaned forward and hit him over the back of his head. "Oi-" Ron looked back at her, and Rosie shrugged, the twins laughing silently beside her.
"Inside every boy, a lordly lion preparing to prance." McGonagall stared at Ron, who seemed rather fearful as her stare pierced him. "Mr Weasley, will you join me please." McGonagall walked over to the boy, who seemed less outspoken now.
Ron, with no other choice, stood up, walking with McGonagall to the cleared centre of the room. "Now, place your right hand on my waist." The teacher said, and Rosie couldn't take it any longer, a shout of laughter bursting from the girl as she watched the scene taking place, hiding her head in George's torso as she shook with laughter.
Fred wolf-whistled, and it didn't help, but Rosie tried to calm down as she wanted to watched the scene. "Mr Filch if you please." McGonagall continued, and the caretaker put the needle on the disk. The pair began dancing, and Harry, positively beaming, his arm in a sling, leaned over to the twins.
"Never let him forget this." He said the twins, who smirked, simultaneously replying with 'never'.
"Everybody come together." McGonagall said, and everyone rose to their feet, girls and boys partnering up.
"Come on then Freddie." Rosie sighed, holding out her hand. "George, I reckon Angelina's waiting for you." She said, and she was right, the dark-haired girl approaching just seconds later.
"Yes, that's my waist Fred." Rosie sighed, and yelped when the boy dug his fingers into the skin there, tickling her. Placing her hand on his shoulder, the two began to dance - rather naturally.
"Where did you learn to dance then?" Fred asked. All the Weasley boys had basic knowledge how to dance, they had been invited to a fancier party at some point and Molly Weasley found herself teaching the younger boys to dance, Ginny giggling happy as she copied her mother.
"My mum." Rosie smiled, giggling as Fred spun her slightly, before pulling her back in. "She has to stay in the water, but every so often my dad will pull out a tub in the living room and they'll watch old films together. It was my mums first time seeing things like that, and she watched them so much she memorised them. Then gave me lessons out on the decking."
"I see. You're pretty." Fred stopped, and Rosie blushed, the boy staring at her for a few moments. "-Good at dancing, You're pretty good at dancing."
"You alright there?" Rosie raised an eyebrow, trying her best not to blush any further. Fred shook his head, laughing.
"Now swap." McGonagall shouted, and Rosie found herself with Harry, who stumbled slightly, cautiously placing a hand on her waist, the girl easily putting her hand on his shoulder, careful not to jolt the injured arm.
"I'm not very good at this." Harry chuckled, and Rosie slowed down the pace, beginning to instruct the boy slowly, pulling them to the side of the group, so it wasn't too overwhelming.
"Cheer up, you'll get it soon enough." Rosie encouraged him, telling him to put his left foot back when she put her right back. "So when are you getting the bandage off?"
"Pomfrey said it should be soon. How's Cedric - his injuries weren't too bad." Harry asked, Rosie nodding.
"He's alright, just trying to figure out the egg. How are you doing with that, by the way?" She lied through her teeth, and nodded understandingly as Harry told her he was focusing on relaxing first.
She made a mental note to convince Cedric to tell Harry how to do it - it wouldn't be hard, seeing as Harry had told Cedric about the dragons, and it would be a way of repaying him.
The dancing lesson soon came to a close, and Rosie said goodbye to Harry, having helped him for the rest of it. The Gryffindor champion had almost perfected it, and left the room, happy.
It would be Christmas day the next day, and then the ball. And whilst Rosie was looking forward to it far more than she expected, she couldn't help but worry if something was to go down between Cho and Cedric.
She just wanted a night of fun - and she was sure everyone else did as well. It would just be a few people's actions which decided whether they did or didn't get it.
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