“Who’re you going with, then?” said Ron.
“Angelina,” said Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.
“What?” said Ron, taken aback. “You’ve already asked her?”
“Good point,” said Fred. He turned his head and called across the common room, “Oi! Angelina!”
Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him.
“What?” She called back.
“Want to come to the ball with me?”
Angelina gave Fred a sort of appraising look.
“All right, then,” she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.
“There you go,” said Fred to Harry and Ron, “piece of cake.”
They said a lot about how the existence of such a young wizard was ‘unheard of’ and ‘shocking’. Then one of them said, ‘Gladys, give me my pills. I think I’m going to have a heart attack.’ He didn’t though, luckily,” said Faith. “Have a heart attack, I mean. Because Gladys DID give him his pills. But I don’t think I’ve seen the lot of them this excited since I took cake to the last council meeting. What was I saying?” Faith shook her head, braids whipping back and forth. “Phew. Their longwindedness is catching.”
When they had eaten as many sandwiches as they could (the plate kept refilling itself) they rose and left the office, treading the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower.
The castle was quiet; it seemed that the feast was over. They walked past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armour, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last they reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.