216 Sibling Fight

Harry and Ron happily took the snacks the House-Elves were offering them while Hermione looked on in disapproval. This was the opposite of what she was trying to achieve!

"How is it that you can beat a Dragon, but not an Elf, Sis?" Astoria asked Oleandra snidely.

"Winky took me by surprise, is all," said Oleandra defensively. "And she didn't beat me, okay?"

"Did Miss just say Winky?" squeaked a rather small House-Elf. "Does Miss know anything about Winky? We're all worried about her, we haven't got news of her in a long time!"

Oleandra took a sip of the tea she'd been offered. Mmm, steeped to perfection.

"I haven't seen her since the World Cup," answered Oleandra. "I think Mr. Crouch gave her clothes."

The Elves recoiled upon hearing the 'c' word. Giving a House-Elf clothes meant giving them freedom; something they feared more than death itself. And thus, Hermione didn't achieve much success trying to convince the Elves they'd be better off free; in fact, the Elves were no longer willing to listen to her at all, holding their hands over their long pointy ears whenever she tried speaking to them.

Seeing that she had failed, Hermione dragged Harry and Ron out of the kitchens before they could give the Elves additional work, and that was that. Oleandra, Daphne and Astoria decided to stay a little longer, while Hannah went off to talk to some of the other Elves.

"Excuse me," Daphne said as she sipped on some Earl Grey, "would it be possible for you to prepare a slice of key-lime pie for me for after-dinner dessert instead of the usual pumpkin pie? It's not that I dislike pumpkins—"

"Of course!" an Elf squeaked happily. "It can be easily done!"

"Would Miss like to change any other of the menu items?" said another Elf. "We are happy to serve!"

"Well, if it's no bother," Oleandra suggested, "I'd take grenadine instead of apple juice during meals."

All in all, this visit to the kitchens had been a fairly productive one; from now on, the Elves would bake a lime pie especially for Daphne and make Oleandra some higher-quality juice for their meals.

"Please thank Hermione for us," Oleandra told Astoria with a laugh as they exited the kitchens, each one of them carrying a basket full of pastries. "The kitchens really were worth the visit."

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"Now," said Professor Snape coolly, "I expect that you all already know how to dance. However, as Head of your House, I would be remiss if I didn't verify that our champion knows the steps to ballroom dancing. Miss Greengrass, Mr. Goyle, if you'd step forward?"

After Potions class, Professor Snape had asked his students to join him in the common room for dance lessons. At first, Oleandra had been quite intrigued; she couldn't imagine Professor Snape actually dancing; the concept seemed almost alien. Unfortunately, Professor Snape didn't have the slightest intention of moving himself, instead illustrating his lesson by using a wooden mannequin animated with magic.

But why would Professor Snape be giving them dance lessons, one might ask? Well, it was because of the Yule Ball, which was a Christmas Triwizard Tournament tradition. Everyone would be wearing their best dress robes and the champions would be expected to open the ball and lead the other students in dance.

Which was why Oleandra was being forced to hold Gregory Goyle's clammy hands and dance the waltz.

"OW!" Oleandra yelped.

"Sorry," mumbled Goyle thickly; he had just stepped on her foot.

"Mr. Goyle," said Professor Snape snidely. "You might want to pay attention to your feet; it wouldn't do if our champion lost some toes before the ball. Now, from the top; One-two-three, one-two-three!"

Oleandra glared at Professor Snape as she awkwardly navigated her way around Goyle's tree trunk-like legs. She felt as if she was dancing with a wardrobe; she was sure that Professor Snape had assigned Goyle as her practice partner on purpose to make her suffer.

"Is there a problem, Miss Greengrass?" said Professor Snape with a sneer. "If you'd like to change partners, the mannequin is still available; though I'd watch out for splinters, if I were in your shoes."

"It's fine," said Oleandra through gritted teeth.

"I assume you already have a partner in mind for the ball?" Professor Snape asked snidely.

"No, sir," said Oleandra, flinching as Goyle stepped on her other foot.

"Then you'd best hurry up and find one," said Professor Snape curtly. "You will be expected to lead the dance; something you will hardly be able to do without a partner."

Oleandra wasn't in a rush to find a dance partner— after all, she was quite pretty, and she was a Hogwarts champion. People would be lining up to ask her to the dance, in theory.

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"Any idea who'd you want to go with?" Tracey asked her, as they sat on their beds after taking a hot bath. "To the dance, I mean."

"I don't know," Oleandra admitted. She kind of had a crush on Cedric Diggory, but he was going steady with Cho Chang, as far as she knew. As for the other boys she knew… Harry saw her as a friend, Ron was her second cousin, Draco was taken, and Theo would rather do alchemical experiments…

"What about you, then?" Oleandra said, deflecting the question back to Tracey.

"Me?" said Tracey, reddening. "I dunno…"

"Well, at least Daphne will have her pick of first and second years," Oleandra joked. "Anyone older would have to go to Azkaban."

"What's that supposed to mean?" came Daphne's cold voice from the doorway. Whoops, she'd come back from her bath sooner than Oleandra'd have thought…

"It's just a joke," said Oleandra quickly. "Since you look so young because of the Bloodline Atavism Potion…"

Daphne, despite being Oleandra's identical twin sister, looked two years younger than she actually was, since she aged about thirty times slower than an ordinary Witch, because of her Wood Nymph bloodline purification.

"Right," said Daphne icily. "Very funny. Do you have any idea how it feels watching you grow up? Seeing what I ought to look like every single day? Hearing people whisper about us?"

"You're right," snapped Oleandra. "I don't know. And maybe you wouldn't have to feel this way if you hadn't drunk the potion we'd made for our sick little sister."

"Fine!" said Daphne venomously. "You can have the room to yourselves; I'm going to sleep in the common room. Have fun with your girlfriend, Sis."

"You do that!" Oleandra yelled at her, throwing a pillow at the door. "And good riddance!"