The Yule Ball was announced on December 1st. Harry wondered if it’d be as intolerable as the one he’d been forced to attend last year, and contemplated skipping it entirely. Though, now that he knew how to dance he might enjoy himself more.  Over the summer he’d found, to his surprise and Beatrice’s delight, that he quite liked dancing, and was even rather good at it; when he got into the rhythm it felt a bit like flying, smoothly swinging around a dance floor, feet flitting over the ground, instinct as much as practice guiding his movements.