Disclaimer: habeo nihil

Author’s Note: I do not in any shape or form condone the use of a ball scene in Harry Potter fanfiction.

Chapter Seven

By the time the weekend had finished the unthinkable had occurred. Excited whispers had grown into outright squeals of anticipation. The words ‘Halloween Ball’ were being bandied around with abandon and every time Harry heard it his stomach began to plummet.

He wasn’t the only one, though. It seemed half the population of Hogwarts – the male half, that is – shared his opinion on the matter if the glum, sullen looks and depressed mutterings were anything to go by.

Ron seemed to be affected worst of all. With Padma Patil’s casual mention of dress robes plaguing the youngest male Weasley, he had taken to hiding away from the irritating talk of hair styles and jewellery in his dormitory. It appeared that he couldn’t bear to hear even the mere mention of dress robes.

Not that Harry could blame him. If he had to wear the maroon velvet dress with lacy frills then he thought that he, too, might barricade himself up and hide away from the world. He was greatly relieved when, with not a little trepidation, he dug out the package containing his own dress robes to find that they looked the same as his school robes only in bottle green.

All his Monday lessons seemed to pass in a blur as he drifted from classroom to classroom surrounded by animated talk focused entirely on the ‘ball’. Abravan had been so frustrated by the constant talk that he had released them early from their last lesson, something Harry couldn’t help feeling slightly suspicious about.

He hadn’t actually visited the library to check out about magical residues as yet. Sunday had instead been spent catching up on all the homework Ron and him had left to the weekend.

It was now six o’clock and the common room was almost completely devoid of life. Hermione had disappeared nearly two hours ago leaving Ron and Harry sitting around finishing off their Divination homework due in tomorrow. Trelawney had taken to setting them a chart to fill in with weekly predictions of what the planets forecasted for their own lives.

By this time in the year, Ron and Harry had already fallen back into the good old Divination standby of making everything up. Their grids were filled with tragic prophecies that would send even the most optimistic person in the world into a state of depression were such predictions true.

Harry was half-way through the doom that awaited him next Sunday. “Can you think of anything else I can put down?” he asked Ron, leaning over to see what his friend had written. He had run out of the dire predictions thought up over the summer.

“Hey, you’ve cheated! You’ve not written anything for Saturday.” Harry didn’t see the irony in telling his best friend that he was cheating on something that they were just making up off the tops of their heads.

“Oi, think of your own ideas,” complained Ron, batting him away. “And there’s a very good reason why I’m not doing anything on Saturday. I shall have been transfigured into a penguin by accident and I won’t be turned back till Sunday after suffering from heat stroke since I was magically transported to Southend pier.” He looked rather pleased with himself.

Harry rolled his eyes. He didn’t know if even Trelawney would buy that level of absurdity.

“Ah, screw it; I’ll just say I’ll see the Grim. She went on about it enough last year.” He quickly scribbled down the idea. He then breathed out a sigh of relief, that having been the last thing he needed to make up.

“Do you think we ought to go up?” asked Harry, glancing round at the empty common room.

For the first time in the last few days Ron seemed rather reluctant to head up to the dormitories. It was probably because he knew what awaited him there.

The other fourth year Gryffindor boys were already present but only Neville had changed into his set of dress robes. Dean and Seamus were passing the time playing Exploding Snap.

The feast started at seven o’clock so they only started to get changed at quarter past six. They all became very self-conscious as their eyes kept darting around to see what the others thought.

Ron looked glum as he surveyed himself in the mirror. There was no escaping the fact that it looked like he was wearing a dress. Under his breath he kept muttering “I can’t go out looking like this” to himself.

“You know, when you mentioned going drag at the beginning of term, I never actually thought you’d go through with it.” Fred had poked his head round the door and was staring at Ron with a worried expression.

“Shut up,” said Ron glumly. He looked miserable as he tried to rearrange the lacy cuffs.

Fred looked over to where Harry was standing. “Listen, Harry, I couldn’t have that bit of parchment me and George gave you last year, could I?” he asked, giving Harry a meaningful look. “We just want to borrow it for tonight,” he said swiftly as he noticed Harry’s hesitation.

“Oh, OK then.” Harry quickly rummaged through his trunk before pulling out the carefully folded Marauder’s Map, its blank state belying its true function. He handed it over with slight reluctance.

“Cheers,” said Fred with a mischievous grin that made Harry wonder what exactly the twins wanted the map for.

Fred then turned to where his younger brother was viewing himself in the mirror. “And Ron, you really do make a smashing girl.” He winked at Harry before quickly shutting the door to avoid the pillow Ron had chucked his way.

“Maybe I ought to just go in my school robes,” Ron said dejectedly as he turned back to the mirror to inspect himself.

No one was saying anything to that so Harry made a suggestion. “You could always ask Hermione if she knows any spells to make it look less like...” he trailed off, not wanting to say the word ‘dress’ in his best friend’s presence.

Ron perked up slightly and finally turned away from the mirror. “Yeah, Hermione would know. She knows everything.”

He started to make his way towards the door before stopping and turning to Harry. “Er – could you go instead. It’s just...” he gestured to his outfit. “You know; don’t want people to get the wrong idea or anything.”

Harry nodded his understanding and headed down the spiral staircase to the common room where several people were now milling around in robes of different sorts. Near the fireplace two girls wearing the same dress had just caught sight of each other and were both now wearing identical looks of horror and outrage.

He wove between the growing throng of students as he made his way to the door leading to the girls’ dormitories. He opened the door and was just about to ascend the first step when an arm reached out and tugged him back.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Katie Bell. The Gryffindor Chaser looked very different from usual in a set of shimmering bronze robes. Harry found it difficult to equate this poised creature with her tightly coiffure hairstyle to his Quidditch team mate who, more often than not, ended practice sessions with tangled hair and splatters of mud marring her face.

“What?” said Harry confused.

Katie grinned. “Sorry, Harry, but no males are allowed up these stairs.”

“What? Then how come girls are allowed up to the boys’ dormitories?”

“Girls are more virtuous, don’t you know. We can be far more trusted. But who were you looking for?”

“Hermione,” said Harry. “Ron’s sort of having some problems with his dress robes so we thought she might know some spells.”

“Strange – I thought only girls had wardrobe malfunctions.” Harry couldn’t help but grin at that as he recalled Fred’s teasing. “I’ll just go get her for you.”

A few minutes later and Katie reappeared with Hermione in tow. It was incredibly strange to see Hermione dressed up in robes of periwinkle blue that floated around her. More unnerving was the absence of her trademark bushy hair which had been twisted into an elegant knot at the back of her head.

“Well?” asked Hermione expectantly, smiling nervously and gesturing to herself.

“Ron needs some help with his dress robes,” he explained, unsure why Hermione’s smile slid into a frown.

“Very well; lead on, then,” she said tightly. Her lips were pursed together in a thin line as she followed Harry up to the fourth year boys’ dormitory.

When they entered the tower room a few minutes later Ron’s eyes jumped away from the mirror to focus on them. He grinned in relief before he seemed to notice Hermione’s get-up.

“You look different,” he said, almost accusingly.

“Yes, I do, though I’m starting to wonder why I bothered.” Harry couldn’t understand why she glared at him. “Now do you want my help or not?”

Ron nodded eagerly and Hermione moved over to where he stood.

“You know, you look rather pretty,” said Ron cautiously as Hermione checked over his robes.

For a moment, Harry saw Hermione’s face morph into an expression more reminiscent of Lavender Brown as she smiled and patted her sleek and shiny hair. It was slightly disturbing to watch, though Ron didn’t seem to find anything wrong.

Eventually it was decided that the lacy cuffs and collar would have to go. It ended up making the robes look a lot more bearable; Ron was even prepared to leave the room. He seemed so pleased that he even mentioned something about dancing with Hermione in exchange for the help.

The common room had only grown more crowded than before as they descended the staircase. It was odd seeing a kaleidoscope of colours instead of the usual mass of black. Everyone also seemed to appear older as the girls held themselves with grace and the boys stood up straighter. Only the scattering of first and second years that hadn’t been able to buy new robes from Hogsmeade wore the normal, black school robes.

The effect increased as they entered the Great Hall and joined the rest of the school for the feast. Even the teachers had dressed for the occasion, though Professor McGonagall’s attempt at a smile looked slightly pained.

The Great Hall had been decorated for the occasion. Gigantic pumpkins that had been hollowed out and filled with candles now hung in mid-air providing scatterings of light. Live clouds of bats swooped down over the different tables causing a few of the younger years to shriek as they flew within arms-distance. Delicate-looking cobwebs had been artfully distributed across the hall and trickles of fake blood dripped down the walls.

As usual, the food was delicious and Harry quickly helped himself to second helping. He briefly wondered whether Dudley would think magic so freakish if he could see the feasts Hogwarts put on.

Eventually the remnants of the meal disappeared from sight along with the used plates and goblets.

At the High Table, Dumbledore got to his feet and waited patiently for the chatter to die down. He surveyed the room as he smiled down on them much like a grandfather would at his grandchildren.

As he spoke, he clasped his hands together. “Now that we are all fed and watered, I believe it to be time to move on to the entertainment for tonight. As I am sure most of you already know from the look of your delightfully colourful robes, we are to be honoured tonight by a performance from the Weird Sisters.”

At the mention of the famous band excited murmurings in muted tones broke out over the hall as students conversed with their neighbours. Again Dumbledore, dressed in purple robes covered with orange pumpkin motifs, waited until the buzz had quietened down.

“But first, I believe a little redecoration is in order.” Wand in hand, he directed them out of their seats before shrinking all the house tables and benches and banishing them towards an antechamber leading off from the Great Hall. Another flick of the wand and the smaller High Table was repositioned to the left-hand side of the hall with the chairs stacking themselves up and following the house tables into the adjoining room.

The headmaster then guided the small clumps of Slytherin students away from the right-hand wall before conjuring a raised platform. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The eight band members of the Weird Sisters trooped onto the conjured stage to wild applause. They were all extremely hairy and were wearing artfully ripped black robes with swatches of orange loosely sewn on. To enthusiastic screams they picked up their instruments and began to play a loud, discordant tune that had Lavender Brown squealing with glee as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

While most people clambered towards the stage, Harry stayed put near where the High Table was now set up. A large, glass bowl filled with pumpkin juice along with several rows of goblets had appeared on the table.

Ron stood next to him, fiddling with the neatly trimmed cuffs. Hermione was standing a bit away as she chatted to Ron’s younger sister.

Harry caught a glimpse of Padma Patil dressed in robes of bright turquoise. She was standing near to the stage dancing with a group of Ravenclaws. She smiled prettily at him and Harry grinned back before the crowd blocked her from view.

The music carried on playing throughout the night and an unwilling Harry was even forced by Hermione to have a go at dancing. After two songs, though, he believed that he’d done his duty and wandered around the outskirts of the dancing hordes.

“Look at her,” Ginny had sidled up beside him and was pointing towards the isolated figure of Luna Lovegood. The blond witch was swaying to the music with her arms flying around in the air. Her hair dangled loose around her and Harry realised as she twirled that her wand was stuck behind her right ear.

“Has she always been like that?” he asked. He distantly remembered Mr Weasley mentioning the Lovegood family on the trek to the Portkey in the summer.

“What? The whole being strange thing? She’s been like that since first year,” she said dismissively as she turned away from the odd witch to face Harry.

“Bit sad, really,” he said softly.

“Yeah, it is a bit. Anyway, do you want to dance?” The last bit was said rather quickly.

“What? Oh, no. I’m fine, thanks.”

He noticed that her face fell slightly and that she was now refusing to meet his eyes. “Oh, OK. Just wondered. Anyway, um, I’m parched so I’ll be off to find a drink, then.”

“Right, then,” Harry said uncomfortably and felt some relief when she quickly scuttled off.

Hermione came up to him then, smiling at him in exasperation. “You don’t even realise how clueless you are, Harry, do you?” she asked rhetorically.

“What?” he asked, but Hermione only shook her head, sighing over him.

“Look, you don’t happen to know where Ron is, do you?” he asked. He didn’t actually need to talk to his other best friend, but he figured he might as well look around for him instead of just standing around looking like an idiot.

“He said he needed the loo a few minutes ago.”

Harry nodded. “Right, well I’m going to try and find him. I’ll be back soon, OK.”

“OK. And remind Ron that he promised me a dance. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s hiding away just so he doesn’t have to go through with it.”

“Will do,” promised Harry before wrestling through the crowds to the exit.

Outside the Great Hall the music was muted somewhat and Harry was slightly relieved to be away from the loudness for a while. Several students lounged around on the marble staircase, talking to each other. There weren’t so many students that Harry couldn’t climb the stairs, however.

When he reached the first floor toilets it was to find a long queue with no Ron in sight. Noticing Dean, Harry strolled towards him.

“You haven’t seen Ron, have you?” he asked, still peering around to see if he could glimpse maroon velvet anywhere nearby.

“Nah, sorry, Harry. I doubt he’s here, to be honest, since I’ve been waiting an age,” said Dean. “He’s probably gone upstairs like everyone else.”

“What? But why’s-”

BANG! The sound of an explosion ripped through the corridor from the bathroom. Harry could just make out a cloud of dust sprinkling downwards through the open doorway as the queue scattered away from the room.

“What the hell?” Harry’s eyes had gone wide as he tried to figure out what was going on.

The sound of a pair of familiar voices carried over to the awaiting crowd from the bathroom.

“That’s just disgusting! Don’t they clean underneath these things?”

“Eurgh! Look at the splotches. It’s like someone did an anal bombardment!”

“Do you think Mum’d appreciate us sending it like this? It does show how much good use it’s been through.”

“For some reason I’m thinking not, old brother of mine. She’ll already be coming down on us like a Fury with Howlers abound.”

“Guess you’re right. Tergeo!”

A few seconds later two ginger-haired figures appeared from the snowstorm of swirling dust. One of them was carrying a white, oval-shaped item that was instantly recognisable. Joining in with most of the others around him, Harry began to laugh.

“Behold – the Hogwarts toilet seat!” Fred Weasley lifted the porcelain object high into the air.

Everyone began to applaud and the twins began to take their bows. Lee Jordan had even brought along some transfigured flowers which he threw at their feet.

George noticed Harry then and walked towards him. In his hand was the Marauder’s Map.

“Harry, old chum,” he greeted jovially. “I hope you’re not here for the toilet since we may have blown some of them up. We didn’t realise how explosive the bombs were; an honest mistake. It’s part Muggle, you see. Dad got hold of something called ‘gumpowder’ and Fred and me thought we’d test it out.”

George looked over at the mess the bathroom had become. “Glad we didn’t test it in the common room. I think we might have to blame this one on Peeves.”

The lanky sixth-year glanced down at the Marauder’s Map and blanched. “Bugger,” he said softly before turning to his twin. “Oi, Fred, Filch is heading this way. Looks like we need to make a quick getaway.”

“Righty-ho,” said Fred turning to the small crowd in front of him. “Listen you lot, you didn’t see us. If anyone asks, blame it on Peeves.”

With a quick goodbye the twins then legged it up the corridor with the toilet seat in hand.

The crowd quickly dispersed after that; nobody wanted to be around when Filch turned up. Likewise Harry decided to leave the area and head to the next floor to see if he could find Ron. It was only after the twins disappeared that he remembered how handy the map could be at locating someone.

The boys’ second floor bathroom had a queue snaking out the door. Apparently, over the weekend, someone had cursed one of the toilets to spew out its contents. The poor first year who had befallen the regurgitating toilet was still being cleaned up with the help of a fifth year prefect.

Looking around, Harry saw no sign of Ron. A short, scrawny second year told him in a voice that was beginning to break that he hadn’t seen anyone wearing maroon dress robes.

Drifting towards the stairwell leading back down to the first floor, inspiration struck. Myrtle’s bathroom!

It was a girls’ bathroom that was abandoned with the single exception of Moaning Myrtle, a ghost who had decided to haunt the place where she had died. Two years ago Hermione had brewed Polyjuice Potion in secret there. It was also there where Harry had also discovered the concealed entrance to the all too real Chamber of Secrets.

The bathroom was located on the second floor so Harry continued walking down the corridor that stretched throughout the level. As he walked, the barely audible sounds emanating from the Great Hall grew quieter and quieter until it became deathly silent with only the sound of his footsteps treading softly being heard. The first prickling of unknown trepidation rose inside him.

No one was around this wing of the second floor. It was eerily empty as Harry ventured further along the corridor with only dim pools of candlelight guiding his way. He reached for the pocket where his wand usually rested to illuminate the corridor only to recall that he’d left it on his bed. Cursing himself at this oversight, he contemplated heading back into a more populated area, but dismissed the notion as being childish.

On reaching the bathroom, he hesitantly stepped inside. He jumped slightly as the door swung shut behind him with an unsettling thump.

The room was dimly lit with candles that cast shadows over the room. Wooden cubicles lined either side of the walls, their doors splintered and worn with neglect. Faded graffiti scribbles and scratched engravings were scrawled onto the wood.

Drip-drip-drip... 

One of the stone sinks was leaking. Pearl-drops of water dribbled from a loose tap hitting the chipped stone.

The stale air smelt of damp and mildew which became only more pungent as he took a few steps further into the bathroom.

Splash!

His foot stepped in a small pool of water glistening near the door.

Harry’s eyes flickered around the small room. He took in that three of the cubicles were closed. “Ron?” he called out softly, wary about making a lot of noise.

The sound hung in the still air, unanswered. Ron wasn’t here.

Drip-drip-drip...

Shivering involuntarily, Harry rubbed his arms together. The room seemed to be growing colder.

“Myrtle?” He wondered whether the ghost was playing some sort of trick on him.

Only unnerving silence answered him.

Splash!

He stood stock-still, almost afraid to move. His breathing sounded shaky and far too loud. His arms were stiff with tension. He hadn’t made that sound.

A single bead of sweat trickled down from under his right arm. He swallowed nervously only to find his mouth dry.

Bracing himself, he spun round.

No one was there.

He let out a shaky laugh, rubbing his forehead. He was going insane.

Turning back around, he noticed the spotted mirror above the stone sinks. A large crack splintered through it, dividing it into two halves. He berated himself for not looking at it before and saving himself from his ridiculous panic.

“I’m such an idiot,” he muttered softly.

Then he heard the door swing open.

Harry jumped and turned to face the door.

“Professor?”

“Potter?” Abravan was staring at him in surprise. His wand was out and he was now peering round the bathroom with calculating eyes. “What are you doing here? It seems to me that this is a girls’ bathroom.”

Harry’s heart rate was starting to slow and he wondered why he’d been afraid. He’d faced far worse situations than a mere bathroom before, even if he’d been equipped with his wand on those occasions.

Abravan was giving him a funny look and Harry remembered the professor’s words. “I know,” he said. “I was looking for Ron.”

“And you thought you’d be finding him in a girls’ bathroom?”

“No! Well – yes. Sort of. No one uses this bathroom since it’s sort of haunted and all the other toilets have long queues since the tw- someone – blew up most of the toilets,” he said quickly, hoping Abravan didn’t pick up on his stumble over the mention of the twins.

The professor’s eyes were still flickering around the bathroom, resting briefly on the closed wooden stalls before glancing back at him. “Well, it’s seems to me that your friend isn’t here, so maybe you ought to be heading on down to the Great Hall again.”

Glad for an escape, Harry quickly agreed and hurriedly walked back to the Halloween Ball and the discordant music. He only allowed himself to relax when he made it to the Entrance Hall which was teeming with people escaping the noise for a while.

It was in the Entrance Hall that he spotted the conspicuous maroon velvet dress robes. Ron and Hermione were talking to each other at the bottom of the marble staircase and so Harry plopped down next to them.

“Harry! Where have you been?” asked Hermione. Her hair had come slightly undone by this point in the night and a few brown tendrils framed her face.

“Searching for him,” said Harry, gesturing to Ron.

Ron looked confused. “But I’m right here.”

Harry just shook his head and didn’t bother replying. He suddenly felt extremely tired and was not looking forward to getting up early tomorrow for Divination.

“But how come you were looking for me?”

“I can’t even remember why now,” said Harry before yawning. “Hermione said you went to the loo so I went up to the first floor and ended up watching Fred and George nick a toilet seat and-”

“So you heard about that?” interrupted Ron.

“Yeah, I was there for the explosion.”

“Wicked! But I bet Mum’s going to blow a gasket when she finds out. I heard that Filch came running when he heard the bang.”

Hermione was scrunching her nose in distaste. “I dread to think of the amount of bacteria on it.”

“Bacteria?” questioned Ron.

“Never mind,” said Hermione with a roll of the eyes.

“Anyway,” continued Harry. “I then went up to the second floor only I couldn’t see you there-”

“Nah, you wouldn’t. I went up to Gryffindor Tower ‘cause some idiot split a drink on my robes so I needed to get my wand.”

“That explains why I never saw you. Anyway, when I didn’t see you there I thought you might have gone to Myrtle’s bathroom since-”

“You thought I’d go to that bathroom? A haunted bathroom with a ghost who could watch me do my business? Are you mad, Harry? Myrtle’s a pervert and I don’t want to give her a free show. Merlin knows what she’d think.” Ron looked queasy at the thought while Hermione hid a smile with her hand.

Harry considered for a moment telling his two friends what had happened in the bathroom but he decided against it. He didn’t want to tell them about his irrational fear of an empty bathroom which sounded ridiculous even in his own head. Besides, neither of them knew of his suspicions about Abravan.

It was only later that night when he was drifting off to sleep that he wondered to himself why Abravan was in Myrtle’s bathroom. The only thing special about the place was the Chamber of Secrets, and it wasn’t as though many people knew about that...