Chapter 222

One chapter today. uwu

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After exchanging impressions about the ball and having a glass of a drink, identical in taste to punch, but completely non-alcoholic, we began to watch the dancing couples with interest. We ourselves stood, except, of course, the girls, because for a young man to sit at a ball without a good reason - to sign his powerlessness and show that the ball is over for you personally.

The music periodically changed in rhythm and mood, and with it, the dances subtly changed. It was interesting to watch the other couples. Hagrid and Madame Maxim were especially eye-catching. They were incredibly tall, their legs were long, and Hagrid appeared to be a fine dancer, and you wouldn't think it by looking at him. Anyway, the steps of the pair were so swift and wide that their height made it seem as if they were circling the hall in a hurricane, threatening to sweep away anyone who got in their way.

"By the way," I decided to raise another important point. "According to ballroom etiquette, that dance of ours was the first."

"Indeed it was," Hermione thought to herself. "Ballroom etiquette in the wizarding world is a lot simpler and freer, but the invitations..."

"What do you mean?" the boys looked at us with interest.

Suddenly a white cat jumped into Hermione's lap.

"Oh, kitty..."

The girl immediately began stroking the cat, and it habitually lounged down, at the same time, with obvious interest, looking at Hermione's dress. Hermione, however, still remembered the question posed, and in parallel with the stroking of the cat, began to answer:

"As in the normal world, at a ball, you are supposed to dance with one partner for no more than three dances and not in a row. Unless you're engaged. And you can't just refuse. And be jealous. Yes. You can't be jealous."

"Meow!"

"Sorry, kitty..."

Seamus chuckled.

"Do you think anyone is following these rules?" the guy looked around the hall meaningfully.

Many people really didn't do this, but everyone who had an idea of ballroom etiquette had already changed a couple because the second dance if you count the opening and the Tournament dance as one, has already begun.

"Let's show ourselves as sufficiently educated and well-mannered young people. There is only one problem ..." I thought for a moment.

"There's no problem," Lavender shrugged as if stating the obvious fact. "We all know each other well here. Seamus and I are like friends here... Like friends, right?"

"In the morning, yes," the boy nodded. "Now, I don't know."

Lavender was a little embarrassed but went on with the idea.

"The fact that you two are right on your way to becoming a couple is obvious to everyone. Anyway, we can do it simply. Quickly re-invite each other to the dance, and that's it. Hermione and I can refuse everyone with a clear conscience, and you're safe - there's no wedding dance planned."

We all looked at each other.

"Acceptable?" I asked Hermione.

"I think so."

"Does anyone care about my opinion?" Seamus pretended to be indignant, ruffling his hair, which was immediately fixed again by Lavender. "Thank you. I agree, of course, but I would like someone to ask my opinion."

"Maybe I should dance, too," the bored Dean looked around the hall thoughtfully.

"Do you know how?" wondered Lavender, immediately looking up at our mulatto.

"I'll tell you a secret," whispered Seamus loudly. "He was engaged in dances and football for three years. But the second, so that the boys from the district do not think badly of him ... "

"So, I told you in confidence, and you decided to tell the whole world? What kind of friend are you..."

"So that's why you didn't want to go?" Lavender asked with a sudden understanding. "Tired of dancing?"

"Yeah. Now I feel nostalgic. But I don't see anyone with whom I could dance."

Now I glanced around the room and didn't find many single girls around. Parvati and Padma, who sat indignantly next to the puffed-up turkeys Potter and Weasley. Just across the hall, at one of the tables where the drinks were ennobled by the presence of the twins, there were a few girls, among whom I recognized Astoria Greengrass. She looked a little bored. She must have asked one of the elders to accompany her to the ball. Maybe even Crabbe and Goyle, who hadn't even considered dancing more than they should have, pouncing on various delicacies at one of the distant tables.

"I see three choices," I turned to Dean. "Padma and Parvati. I'm sure Potter and Weasley aren't even thinking about dancing anymore. Or you can break all the local patterns and invite Astoria Greengrass."

The white cat on Hermione's lap moved and looked at me and then climbed up onto the table with its front paws, starting to ostensibly sniff something, but in fact - to look around.

"Who's that?" asked Dean. "Wait, I'll remember. Hmm... Hmm... The brunette from Slytherin, third year. She also has a sister the same age as us."

"Exactly."

Dean quickly found her with his gaze.

"Hmm. A guy from Gryffindor asking a girl from Slytherin to dance? I'm sure there'll be a scandal," but the very thought, judging by the mulatto's face, pleased him quite well. "There will be a lot of dissatisfied people. And how to make everyone satisfied?"

"Punch dissatisfied guys in the face?" smiled Seamus.

"Do not worry. You are probably one of our most decent guys, both in dress and demeanor. Need some help?"

"I'd appreciate it." If the guys start causing trouble, the local dragon slayer can stop them."