A Terrible Joke

A Terrible Joke

On a cold morning in mid-January soon after the start of term, the usual flood of owls had just finished bringing the post. Harry was turning his attention back to his bacon and eggs when a murmur of astonishment ran through the Great Hall. He raised his head to see two dozen or so more owls streaming into the room.

These were no ordinary owls, however: every one of them was black as a raven and had glittering, ruby-red eyes. The sinister-looking flock circled the room seven times whilst the entire school goggled, then swooped down to deliver their letters, which were as jet-black as the owls that carried them. Most went to Slytherins, a few to Ravenclaws, none to the Hufflepuffs and exactly one to the Gryffindor table, dropped neatly by its owl into Harry's porridge.

Harry plucked the envelope out of his bowl. Porridge slid off it like water from a duck's back. It was addressed in silver ink to Harry Potter, Parselmouth, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

'Harry Potter, Parselmouth?' said Harry, raising his eyebrows.

Ron shrugged; Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully.

Harry turned the letter over. Its seal was a perfect round dome of translucent red glass embedded in silver wax. The instant Harry's fingers touched the glass dome, it glowed scarlet and the flap of the envelope sprang open. Ron and Hermione looked on with great interest as Harry pulled out a rectangle of thick black parchment and read:

The honour of your presence is adjured

at the Dark Wizards' Ball

to be held at Tobermory Castle

on the evening of Friday the 2nd of February

at ten o'clock

'The Dark Wizards' Ball?' said Harry. 'Is this some kind of joke?'

'No, it's real, I've read about it,' said Hermione.

'Should we -- should we tell Dumbledore?' said Harry.

He realised how stupid this question was as soon as the words had left his mouth. After the spectacle of the black owls, Dumbledore hardly needed telling. Harry's eyes flicked to the staff table. Snape was leaning over, his greasy black hair falling into his face as he reached past Professor McGonagall, holding out a similar piece of black parchment for Dumbledore's inspection.

'No, I mean it's a real event,' said Hermione. 'Not real Dark wizards. Just people pretending -- like a masquerade.'

'Oh, yeah, I've heard of that,' said Ron.

'Why invite me, then?' said Harry, surveying the letter with deep suspicion.

'"Harry Potter, Parselmouth",' said Hermione, tapping the envelope with her fingernail. 'Certain classes of wizard automatically get invitations, to give the party a proper Dark atmosphere. Parselmouths, werewolves, old wizarding families who have historical associations with Dark magic ... mind, the invitations are usually delivered a bit more discreetly.'

'Trust the Tobermorys to completely overdo it,' snorted Ron. 'More Galleons than sense, Dad's always said.'

'But it would be fascinating to visit Tobermory Castle,' said Hermione keenly. 'You are going to go, aren't you, Harry?'

'I dunno ... all this Dark stuff ... even if they're not serious ...' muttered Harry. 'Maybe if the Tobermorys were giving a -- a Bright Wizards' Ball ...'

'A Bright Wizards' Ball?' said a withering voice. 'You are showing your ignorance, Potter.'

Draco Malfoy had come over to the Gryffindor table, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, all three bearing black invitations of their own.

'If there were a ball for bright wizards, you certainly wouldn't be invited to it,' Malfoy went on. 'I thought everyone knew --' his lips curled into a malevolent smirk, '-- only Dark wizards have balls.'

— THE END —