She inhaled a deep breath, ignoring that the air she breathed was hot and smelled like sweat. The room was packed; she could hardly see to the other wall. Red hair sticking to her neck like fur, Ginny moved across the Great Hall's floor, unconsciously swaying in time to the music. Her eyes locked on a single face, she could hear her own breath, sighing in and out through aggravated nostrils. Hermione was at her side, pushing Ginny to move faster, hastening them both across the room. Ginny didn't want to take another step, because it divided the amount of attention she could give to watching his face.
"Oh, my god, Hermione, I can't do this," breathed Ginny. She felt Hermione's hand on her shoulder, steering her the right direction. Firm. A guide. This is what she needed.
"Yes, Ginny, you can. Come on. You like him? You want to dance with him, right?" Hermione asked. Not questioning her desire, of course, nor getting ground to break to Ginny that Harry wouldn't want to dance with her, just persuading her not to think the less of herself. After all, Hermione was Harry's best friend, or one of the two. She'd know, with absolute certainty, whether or not Harry would want to dance with Ginny. This is why I didn't ask Ron to help me, thought Ginny. He would have balked. There's not a chance in hell my brother would let me dance with his best friend.
"Of course I do, Hermione! It's just I don't want to have him say no."
"If you ask him, he won't say no. He has no reason!"
"So he'll be dancing with me because he has no excuse not too? I'm going back."
"No, you aren't, Ginny. I'm here. Moral support. Come on."
Ginny, walking a few more steps, stopped. She was facing the back of Harry's head, and she stared past that, noticing that Ron was mere feet away, and she was frozen, unable to simply lean forward and tap Harry's left shoulder. "Harry," she croaked. Then Ginny realized that she hadn't made a sound. She had simply whispered his name under her breath. She wished that Harry would just turn around and grab her hands. That would make it so much easier. To dance with him, without stumbling through the awkward stage of asking. Because asking Harry meant that he could choose the word no. Because asking Harry meant that she wanted to know what he thought, and if he didn't think what she wanted him to, this would be a disaster.
So Hermione did it for her. Took Harry's arm and said something in his ear. Harry turned around, an amazed look on his face. "Hey, Ginny."
"Harry . . . would you dance with me?"
He didn't even hesitate. Moving slightly further away from the group of boys he was hanging around with, Harry grabbed both her hands. Ginny felt a delighted smile covering her face. She heard him say, in his smooth, deep voice, "I'd love to!"
And so they danced.