Plastic Smiles
Throughout the night, she smiled – a plastic smile, a smile of someone who wished for no one to know of her unhappiness.
She smiled at Ron's blushing face as Pansy drug him out onto the dance floor. She smiled at Harry as he fussed over his pregnant wife, Ginny taking it in an exasperated stride. She smiled at the twins as they played their games. She smiled at Neville and Luna who were cuddled up together against a wall, Luna commenting about some inane creature that was supposed to live in mistletoe. She smiled at Remus and Tonks as Tonks tried to teach her considerably older husband a popular dance move.
She smiled at her old professors. She smiled at her old comrades and classmates. She smiled at everyone and everything – that is, except him.
He never smiled, standing in a dark corner sipping his wine and scowling at the general festivities. If it had not been for Blaise and the brief conversation with Pansy, she doubted it would have talked to anyone there. After his third glass of wine and about a dozen grips to the remains of his Dark Mark, he slipped out the door.
She shook her head. He was determined to be miserable that night – on Christmas of all nights.
Of course, she was as well. Her only difference was that she kept it hid.
Her eyes slowly surveyed the dancing couples in the Great Hall, traveling steadily to the door he had exited out of. She stared at it and then, she beamed with her first true smile of the night gracing her face.
She gently sat down her glass on a nearby table and weaved her way through the crowd and out the door.
She was going to get him to dance with her.
Even if she had to get the Giant Squid to help her.