McGonagall’s Yule Ball Class

Everyone had been called to a classroom - a classroom containing two sets of benches, a comically large gramophone, Professor McGonagall, Argus ‘Squib’ Filch, and Mrs Norris. Upon entering, you exchange looks with Ginny, who appears to be as confused as yourself.
It wasn’t long before McGonagall had everyone on their feet, threatening the boys with ‘no Quidditch for a week!’ unless they obliged. It wasn’t entirely that statement that convinced them, more the stern looks Ginny and you had burned into them all.
Originally, McGonagall had paired everyone up, but the class began to derail when she had left Filch in charge and people slowly spread out into their own groups and resumed normal conversation. Fred and George swung your arms around madly to the outdated music, laughing wildly. You pitied the girls they were going to ask to the Ball. Harry sidled awkwardly past dancers to join you, closely followed by Ron. Ginny and Hermione were spinning each other round on the other side of the room. Ron was muttering to himself about the ‘point’ of the dance, or lack thereof, and Harry began to dart his eyes around the room, from girl to girl. Seamus winked forcefully at you from the bench, sending Dean in to fits. You mouthed a ‘no way’ in his direction, and he stuck his finger up smirking.
‘Reckon Snape’s called McGonagall down to Slytherin rehearsals. Can you imagine the poor bugger trying to Waltz?’ Fred snorted. Neville was now in the small group that was forming in the corner, and spoke quietly when he said,
‘Look at Filch.’
Filch was next to the Gramophone singing and rocking along with Mrs Norris.

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