Oh, Dale,
Chapter one
Dale Sewstag, aged fifteen and a half, was sprawled across her four poster bed. The dorm was dark and silent, just the way she liked it. The rest still hadn't returned. She turned to face the door, wishing that under her intense gaze, it would lock itself and never let anyone in, leaving Dale to her peace and empty bliss. Dale didn't want them to return.
After what seemed like ages, Dale began to drift off. Then the door swung open and a pretty girl in a light blue dress staggered into the dorm. She slammed the door shut and threw herself onto a bed with a small whimper. She was crying.
"Hermione? Are you okay? What happened?" Dale jumped up and immediately tried to comfort her friend. "I thought going with Krum was a good idea?!" Dale rubbed the girls back. Hermione lifted her head up. Her cheeks were tear stained and her eyes were red. Dale felt sorry for her, and fed up with the imbecile that did this to her. Dale stood up and paced around the dorm. She waited for Hermione to calm down, as she was in no state right now to talk. At last, she lifted her head up again, rubbed her eyes and sniffed back her tears.
"Hermione, tell me everything. I can't help you if you don't. Here, have a glass of water," Dale pulled out her wand and muttered, "Accio water." Funnily enough, the water came on its own! Dale gave yelp of surprise as the cold water splashed down on her, plastering her hair to her head. Hermione have a strangled chuckle. Dale grinned from behind her wet hair and said, "Should've probably asked for the glass too,"
Hermione told Dale what had happened. It made Dale well up with anger. How dare he treat Hermione like this? That guy had barely more emotional capacity than a teaspoon.
"That's an overstatement," thought Dale. She hugged Hermione tightly and stroked her hair, trying to comfort her. Hermione shivered and whispered, "I love him Dale, but he's so insensitive; it hurts to love him." Dale kept quiet. She didn't know what to say. Every time Ron hurt Hermione, she had thought about how much more the girl could take. Hermione had a lot of willpower; after all, she was in love with Ron Weasley.
"What am I going to do? Oh, Dale…" Hermione choked and then burst into renewed sobs, burying her face in Dales embrace.
The next morning, Dale woke up in a grumpy mood. She got up and yawned. This was going to be an awful day. The Yule Ball was last night; everyone would be talking about it today. Dale dreaded leaving the dorm. She slumped off her bed, pulled off her pyjamas and slipped on her Hogwarts uniform. Then she looked at herself in the mirror. The feature that instantly caught her eye was the Gryffindor badge on her breast. It made Dale proud, to know that she was in Gryffindor. It was where she belonged. Not in Ravenclaw, or in Hufflepuff, nor Slytherin. Gryffindor was her house. Dale grabbed the brush from her drawer and pulled it through her blonde bob, straightening all the tangles and stupid curls. She stuffed it back in the drawer and left the room. The common room was thankfully empty. It gave Dale time to think a bit. She sat in the armchair by the fireplace and rested her head back, closing her eyes. She allowed her mind to wander freely. Dale found it very relaxing.
A click dragged Dale out of her trance. She lifted her head to see to boys, about a year older than her, coming out of the boys' dormitory. One had black hair and glasses, so no prizes for guessing who that was, and the second was tall, gangly and had a headful of ginger hair. Ron Weasley.
"Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you." Harry said apologetically.
"Yeah, we were just going down to breakfast." Ron said with his head down, and I heard the sound of his feet shuffling. Harry nudged Ron and beckoned to me, and Ron looked aghast. He whimpered, and then asked me, "Have you seen Hermione Granger anywhere?"
My cheeks burned red with fury, but I squashed all of my anger and pleasantly said, "No, maybe she's at breakfast."
When Dale herself went down to breakfast, she saw that she indeed was right. Hermione was in the great hall, pouring herself a cup of coffee. On either side of her, Harry and Ron sat and talked to her animatedly, except Hermione only remained normal with Harry. With Ron, she had taken up a formal tone. They were discussing something important by the looks of it, so Dale decided not to butt in. She passed them and settled herself next to Seamus.
"Hi Dale, how did the ball go?" Seamus beamed at her whilst helping himself to some pumpkin juice.
"I didn't go." Dale muttered.
Seamus choked in surprise and slammed down his mug, "What! Why not?"
"Because I didn't have a partner. Anyway, I couldn't be bothered to get one, or go for that matter."
"You could've gone with me. I didn't have a partner. And it was brilliant, even if I was alone."
Dale rolled her eyes, "Next time then," Her voice dripping with sarcasm. Secretly, she was a little bit disappointed in herself. Maybe she should've accepted one of the offers to go to the Yule Ball. But she simply was too proud to admit it. Besides, who needs a ball to get a date, she's got the whole of Christmas to do that, and the rest of the year, the rest of Hogwarts.
"Tell you what Dale, why don't you come down to Hogsmeade with me today. We can have a butter beer. That'll cheer you up!"
So after Breakfast, wrapped in multiple scarves, hats, gloves and woolly jumpers, Dale and Seamus set of through the winter snow to Hogsmeade. They chatted vaguely along the way, and Seamus described the scene at the Yule Ball to her.
"You should've seen Ron's face when he saw Hermione with Krum. He looked like a beetroot!" Seamus snickered. Dale let out a small laugh, at the same time imagining Ron's face. "And Dumbledore danced with Madame Maxime! He was tiny compared to her; his hat was practically poking up her nose!"
"What where you doing the whole time? Taking a video?" Dale teased.
Seamus retorted, "I tried my best, but you know those dag nab muggle contraptions." Dale fell silent. After all, she was muggle born. Seamus realised the damage he had caused and berated himself, "Sorry, that was unkind. I forgot. But take it as a compliment, that only means that there is no difference between muggle born's and pure bloods!" Seamus attempted to rescue the conversation. "And poor Ginny with Neville, her toes must be battered!"
Soon enough, after battling against the harsh winds and the biting cold, Dale and Seamus arrived at the three Broomsticks. They were greeted by a sudden blast of heat which instantly warmed their frost bitten faces, turning their noses from bright red to normal. Dale danced around the tables, in an attempt to find an empty one for her and Seamus. The inn was packed, which added to the stuffiness. After a while of searching, Dale came up lucky, as she had found two cosy armchairs by a fire. She immediately saved them and waited for Seamus to get the drinks.
"Over here!" Dale waved to him as he looked for her amidst the clutter of people. The moment he caught sight of her, Seamus grinned and weaved his way to their spot, set down the drinks, and began to unwrap himself.
"Nice one Dale! I thought we'd have to have this one at the bar." He said as he took off his scarf and draped it along with his other stuff on the back of the chair. Dale did the same. She sat down in the chair opposite him and took her butter beer in both hands. The mug was warm.
"You asked her to heat them. That's good. You must be clever than I thought Seamus." Dale beamed contently as she peered up at her friend. He cupped his hands around his mug and blew on it, and though he didn't respond, Dale could see a small smile playing across his lips. They stayed silent for a few minutes, slowly sipping their hot beverage, which was steaming and sweet. They watched the fire, which playfully pranced about in the grate, laughing and cackling at them.
"I don't think you were not bothered to find a partner for the ball, I think it's something else." Seamus mumbled.
Dale whipped her head up and gave him a piercing glare, "What do you think it was then? Waiting for the perfect guy? Not finding the perfect guy?"
Seamus considered for a bit, then replied, "Something along those lines, but there are other things too I can think off."
"Like what?"
"Like afraid of what the guy would think of you, what would happen, would it go well. You know what happened to Hermione yesterday, don't you?"
Dale scowled, "Yes."
"I think you're afraid that'll happen to you. You don't have to be, you know. Just go with a friend."
"Like who? You?" Dale snapped.
Seamus tutted, "Yeah, you'd be fine with me."
"What makes you think that?"
Seamus backed off, hurt. He was building up for the point he was going to tell her, and he wasn't about to let her grumpiness get in the way. "Dale, I really…"
"Seamus, look at me. If you're trying to make me feel better about yesterday, then thanks, but I'm fine. I just didn't feel like going yesterday, okay?" Dale stated with her stubborn expression on. She turned to the fire and continued to sip her butter beer in silence. Seamus, sensing there was no more he could do, and that he should leave the matter, grabbed the newspaper on the table and started reading it, in an effort to hide his dampened spirits.