notes || edited/re-written 6-24-14
It is eleven o'clock at night on Christmas day when Rubeus Hagrid is saddest.
He is dancing alone, (he is always alone) humming the sad tune his father always did when ugly memories rose from the abyss of discord. The giant of a man somehow goes unnoticed by the hundreds of students present at the Yule Ball—though this should not be surprising, since the majority are either too drunk or too nervous or too busy snogging passionately to see anything past the tips of their noses. Lights from the enchanting, frosty evergreen trees make the tears streaming down the gamekeeper's face sparkle. This, also, is a sight devoid from every student's gaze.
Except for one's.
Ginny Weasley, red-faced with anger and embarrassment as her dance partner's feet scrape painfully against her shin yet again, has been determinedly watching her Care of Magical Creatures teacher for the past half-hour, the butterflies in her stomach churning ever so rapidly. Oh, why won't he notice her? Why, why, why? She has only loved him for all her life—isn't it about time he return her love? (all the other girls' professor crushes love them back, ginny knows for sure)
"Neville," she announces in an exasperated voice, "I'm tired."
The boy's blue eyes widen, and he stops his oddity of a jig abruptly. "Did I hurt you? Oh, I'm sorry, I'm dreadful at this."
"No, no, no, I'm fine," Ginny lies through her teeth, wanting to hit the clumsy idiot around the head. "Just go find Ron or something."
Neville Longbottom trudges away, head lowered, to find the youngest Weasley boy, and Ginny praises herself for her inner cleverness before pushing through a massive gang of screaming sixth-years. She eagerly waves to Rubeus Hagrid, but he doesn't seem to notice, his gaze fixed into space. Only then does Ginny spot the large pool of water that surrounds him.
Frowning as she approaches closer, she asks, "What're you crying for, Hagrid?"
The man jolts out of his stare and glances at Ginny only for a second before suddenly becoming very interested in his shoes. Rubeus Hagrid sniffles and blows his nose into a dirty handkerchief (which obviously hasn't done much good), his whole body shaking. Many couples within the proximity of a several meters jump back, startled. "Nothin' y-you need mind, Miss W-Weasley. Go on and h-have fun now, don't you let my p-problems get on yer mind."
"Well, then," Ginny replies cheerfully, "it only makes sense to get your problems off your mind as well." The fiery-haired girl offers her hand, which pales in comparison to the mountainous one she seeks to grab hold of. She beams widely as his grasp finds her, and she leads her teacher to the dance floor. Love united at last, Ginny thinks with a small burst of joy. (she soon realizes it would be an impossible feat to place her hands on Hagrid's shoulders, or to completely wrap her arms around his girth, but she doesn't mind. after all, love is acceptance.)
The two dance and sway and laugh until long past midnight—neither minding the gaping mouths of those around them.
Rubeus Hagrid and Ginny Weasley have seldom been happier.