Luna looked at him the way that others often looked at her. "I can't remember what hasn't happened yet, Harry. You're weird." The irony of Luna calling him weird was not lost on him. Hermione decided it was better to change the subject.
"So, Luna, you know about this plant? I couldn't figure out what it was. Does it really protect against nargles?" Hermione turned to their resident botanist with a grin.
"I don't remember seeing that kind of flower in any of my books," Neville said. "Have you got the plant itself? I'd love to take a look and maybe grow one of my own."
"It's at home," Hermione said. "My dad bought it with Harry at some odd florist in Unifer's Alley."
"Oh... maybe this summer, then? anyway, have you got any advice on how to dance? You two seemed to learn really quickly."
Hermione grinned. "Well, I was reading Harry's mind with legilimency while he just concentrated on what steps he was about to take." Looking back and forth at Luna and Neville, she added, "I think it's best if Luna does the reading."
"Oh, I was so ready to let Neville inside of me, too," Luna pouted. Neville nearly spilled his drink.
Harry and Hermione took their seats at the champions' table, ready to begin their dinner. The rest of the guests made their way to their tables, eager to see the party under way. The guests were to another round of speeches by the headmaster for each school as well as Bartemius Crouch. Harry eyed the man carefully, the first time he'd seen him since the unveiling of the Goblet of Fire several months ago. Harry was itching to talk to the man, but decided to save it for later in the night. There was no point in ruining the night for everyone else if things did go sour. Hermione was keeping her eye on Cornelius Fudge. Both of them distrusted him strongly and were sure he had quite an important role to play in the future.
As the food arrived, Harry was about to dig in greedily when Hermione nudged him with her knee. "What?" he asked.
"Wrong fork," Hermione said. "Start with the salad fork."
"Huh?"
"The one on the left!" she whispered. Harry put down the one he was holding and exchanged it for the smaller fork before he began on his salad appetizer.
"You know, all these rules about fine dining really take the joy out of eating such delicious food," Harry jokingly complained.
"Don't tell me you're going to gorge yourself like Ron," Hermione huffed, straightening up. "anyway, how often do we get to do this, anyway?"
"Maybe once every time we go back through the beacon?" he whispered into her ear.
Hermione giggled. "I expect to be taken to a nice dinner and dance more often than that, Harry."
"I'll remember that," he replied.
The dinner was a light three-course meal, which let everyone finish quickly without feeling too stuffed to dance afterwards. Afterwards, food and drink was available for those who wanted to keep eating, but the tables were mostly cleared for those who simply wanted to mingle and converse. The Hogwarts Music Club had left the stage while the guests were eating, making way for the guest band of the night, the Weird Sisters. Harry and Hermione both noticed that, while they used classical orchestral instruments like cellos, violins, and piano, the music they played was far more upbeat and better for the younger guests, making the ball more like a rock concert. With the smaller group playing the music, Harry finally noticed how the magical instruments filled the entire hall evenly with sound without being too loud for anyone, even those sitting directly in front of the stage. Seeing that nearly everyone was distracted with dancing, food, or conversation, he decided that it would be the perfect time to try a private chat with Mr. Crouch.
"Excuse me, Mr. Crouch, could I have a word?" Harry asked when he approached the officials' table. He began with some very light legilimency, just in case Crouch had enough occlumency training to detect him.
"Why, if it isn't Harry Potter. I'd be glad to have a chat with you. What do you want to know?"
"Has there been any progress in finding out who may have put my name into the cup?" Harry started with a relatively innocuous question.
"I'm sorry, I haven't heard anything new. The investigation isn't my department's concern, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you should speak to Auror Shacklebolt instead." That wasn't a lie, Harry could feel. He could sense that Crouch had some basic mental shields but wasn't actively concentrating on them now. Not wanting to put the man on his guard, Harry kept his legilimency at the lowest levels.
"I was hoping you might have heard something they didn't. They did say the suspect was probably a master enchanter. Do you know anyone who is one?"
"No," was Crouch's reply. That was a lie. Damn, couldn't he say more than that? How can I keep questioning him without sounding accusing?
"Really? I thought a man of your position may have met a few..." Harry said in a disappointed tone. He did his best trying to play the guilt card, but it seemed like Crouch was immune to it.
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