Neville was nervous and excited. He had been anticipating the Yule Ball for weeks; ever since it had been announced. Although he was going with Ginny Weasley, he was hoping against hope that he would be able to dance with Hermione, even though she had turned him down to be his date since she was going with Victor Krum. He liked Ginny well enough, but he had really fancied Hermione practically since first year. He dressed in his dress robes and went down to the common room to wait for Ginny.
Ginny was absolutely radiant; there was no denying that. But Neville could see that she was looking around as if she wanted to dance with someone else, too, and he was willing to bet that someone was Harry.
"I don't mind, you know," he told her, "If you want to dance with other people, too."
She gave him a grateful look and excused herself. Neville wandered around the fringes of the dance floor for a while, sipping a butterbeer and waiting to catch a glimpse of Hermione.
That's when he saw her, sprinting away from Harry and Ron, tears streaming from her beautiful eyes. He snuck out of the great hall and ran to catch up to her, finding her in a corridor. She sat on the floor, her legs tucked to the side, with her dress pooled out in a perfect circle around her. She leaned forward on one hand, her hair starting to pull free so that loose curls hung around her face. She swiped furiously at her tear-stained cheeks.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked her.
She looked up at him in alarm, swiping faster at her tears as if trying to hide them. It was a futile attempt, which she realized with a sigh and a hicough, and she let her hands fall to her lap. "I'll be alright, Neville," she said sadly.
Neville knelt down beside her. "Whatever they said, I'm sure they didn't mean it, Hermione. You three are best friends. Everything will be right again soon." He brushed a stray hair out of her eyes, and stood, offering his hand. "The dance isn't over yet, would you like to dance?"
She shook her head, causing his heart to plummet just a little. "I don't want to go back there, Neville." She reached for his hand and accepted his help getting to her feet. "Won't Ginny be missing you?"
He laughed. "I don't think so. The advice you gave her earlier in the year meant that she was willing to go with me, but now that she's there, I think she'll be looking for Harry."
Hermione pursed her lips. "You knew about that?"
"I don't stand out, Hermione. I could be sitting right next to someone and they wouldn't notice. I was in the common room," he said with a chuckle. He held out his hand to her again. "Dance with me?"
She frowned. "I really don't want to go back..."
"No, here."
"But... there's no music!" she protested.
He muttered a quick spell, and a light melody drifted through the air. Neville took her in his arms and spun her around in a surprisingly graceful waltz. "My gran taught me," he explained. "I'm a pureblood, and even if we don't hold with their ideals, gran made sure we were a part of their society. That meant a lot of dancing."
They were both swept away in the moment, until they realized that they couldn't hear any sounds from the great hall anymore. Neville escorted her back to the common room, their arms linked firmly together and their laughter ringing through the halls. At the portrait, Hermione stopped him.
"Neville, thank you. You made my miserable night absolutely wonderful." She stretched onto her tiptoes and kissed his cheek before climbing through the portrait hole.
Neville danced his way into the dormitory, humming to himself as he got ready for bed. He could hear Ron and Harry muttering about him from their beds, but he didn't care. His every wish for that night had come true.