"What the..." indignation, outrage, and surprise were clearly visible on Pansy's face. The rest were simply shocked by everything: Hermione's appearance, her dress in particular, and the image in general. And I just now noticed that she and I really do look older than our peers, and we're already quite sixteen or seventeen years old in the physical plane. Did the potions for our physical training and the training itself contribute to it on a regular basis? Perhaps, for they greatly stimulated development and growth.

"I kept thinking ..." Hermione looked at Pansy with a predatory smile. "What is that talking glazed brownie next to Malfoy. Whoever recommended that dress to you, Parkinson, know this - it's your enemy." ​​

"I'm not my own enemy!" exclaimed Pansy, causing laughter from the boys around her.

We followed McGonagall at a brisk pace, not wanting to force her to repeat herself - it usually doesn't end well. We caught up with the professor just as she reached the door of the Hall and turned to the crowd of students.

"Tournament participants, please come this way," the professor said loudly, and in a couple of seconds, we were all standing next to each other in a small vacant patch of space. Before that, I did not pay attention to the guys in red uniforms in the manner of hussars, but now I recognized Krum standing next to me, and his companion, in a blue dress, came obviously with the French delegation. Behind them stood Fleur in a beige dress with many patterns of golden hue, and next to her was Roger Davies, which with great difficulty resisted the Veela's charm. Next stood Potter with Parvati. By the way, all three of us, I mean myself, Krum, and Potter, didn't really care about the charm.

"Ladies and gentlemen," McGonagall spoke rather quietly. "Now, the rest of the students will come into the hall and take their seats. You will be the last to enter the hall at the signal and ceremoniously walk to the main table and take your seats next to the judges."

The professor opened the doors of the hall and began to launch the students.

"You were saying," Hermione pulled my hand slightly toward her. "That we should look out for the ill-wishers. I hasten to point out that it's easier to count the 'well-wishers. And 'those,'" Hermione clearly hinted at the group of Slytherins, "we will take revenge yet. Oh, yes!"

I looked around at the students passing by, and indeed many were looking with a kind of envy and disapproval at either me, the french girl next to Krum, or Parvati. The guys glared at Davis with envy. All in all, everyone found a cause for humble, righteous indignation.

"A familiar sight," remarked Krum quietly.

Meanwhile, McGonagall continued instructing:

"Places at the table are at your discretion, but I recommend that you decide in advance. From left to right will sit: Ministry representative, Headmaster Karkaroff, Headmaster Dumbledore, Headmaster Maxim, Mr. Bagman. I don't like surprises, and I hope you don't either. You will open the ball with the Viennese waltz. After that, move on to the slow waltz, and at that moment, the rest of those who want to dance gradually come out, and then we will move on to the Waltz of the Tournament. Any questions?"

McGonagall looked at us carefully, and somehow even moved a little to the side for a better view of Potter standing behind us, and spoke:

"Mr. Potter."

"Yes, Professor?"

"Your totally dumbfounded face gives me cause for concern. What worries you?"

"Waltz... ma'am..."

"Don't tell me, Mr. Potter, that you can't waltz?"

There was no reply.

"Mm, kids these days..." sighed the discouraged professor. "And since when can't young people waltz? I hope the other champions don't have similar problems?"

"Absolutely not," Krum stretched out, and the others variously confirmed the skills.

"Why didn't you give us any warning, Mr. Potter? The dance program was announced two weeks ago, and classes have been taking place all that time. I don't want to insult anyone, but even a troll can be taught basic moves in that time."

The professor glanced around at the drastically reduced number of students in the hall.

"Anyway, there's no time to solve the problem that has arisen. I'll be back for you in just a few minutes. I hope you can figure out how to solve this unpleasant moment."

The professor entered the hall, following the students.

"While we're standing, let's decide," reducing my cane, I slipped it into a special pocket of my jacket. "The first dance is ours. How do we go? In pairs, traditionally counterclockwise, or individually, each in his own circle?"

"I can do it in both ways," Krum nodded importantly and looked questioningly at his companion, who also nodded with a slight smile.

"As you please," smiled Fleur.

"Ah..." Potter drawled heavily. "I don't know. I'm not good at dancing."

Parvati poked Potter with her elbow.

"I see. If Potter gets out of the circle, the scheme will collapse. I suggest improvisation. Potter goes into the center, into the inner circle. We go around. That way, he won't bump into us if anything happens, and he won't ruin his dance."

Krum just nodded, and Fleur thought for a second.

"That would be interesting...wouldn't it, Mr. Davies?"

Roger clearly missed the phrase, admiring Fleur.

"Don't break the guy's brain. He almost graduated from this survival school. It would be a shame to lose his mind so ridiculously in his final year."

Fleur wanted to respond with some obviously caustic comment, but everyone took their seats, and Dumbledore stood up from his seat.