Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created them, I messed with them.

Innocent Vampire Dances

Neville was very surprised when he asked Ginny out to the Yule Ball. Mere moments after he did it, he realized that he was simply desperate to go to the Ball with a partner, instead of toughing it out alone like Crabbe and Goyle, after Hermione had turned him down.

So, at the Yule Ball, he didn't mind much when a tall, dark boy by the name of Michael Corner asked if he could cut in while he was dancing with Ginny.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled, and he moved aside to let Michael dance with Ginny.

He walked around the Great Hall, managing not to trip over strewn high heels or his own feet, and noticed a rather pretty, light blonde girl in silver dress robes standing by the punch bowl, looking slightly interested at the dancers, but bored at the same time.

She looked alone, so Neville decided to approach her.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Neville."

The girl looked at him, looking surprised. Her large grey eyes scanned Neville from his shiny black shoes to his lightly ragged maroon dress robes. "Luna," she said, dreamily.

"Well, er, are you alone?" he said awkwardly.

"Technically yes," she said in her dazed voice, "but my partner is off dancing with somebody else."

"Mine too," Neville mumbled.

There was an awkward silence.

"Er, do you wanna dance?" Neville said.

Luna looked at him in surprise and looked at him for a moment. "Sure," she said. "But you have to know, dancing was created by a vampire, so he could get close to the victim and suck his or her blood without drawing attention. The dance was called the Suckbloodika, and it looked somewhat close to what everyone else is doing."

Neville stared at Luna. "Right," he said, feeling more gullible than he had ever felt in his life.

Luna peered at Neville. "You're not a vampire are you?"

Neville coughed. "I hope not," he said.

Luna held out her hands. "So shall we start the Suckbloodika—er, without the sucking blood?"

"Sure," said Neville, concentrating on trying not to trip over his own feet.

The dance was fairly easy, even for Neville. Step, step, clomp, step-clomp-clomp-step. Hug, step, jump, exchange positions, step, clomp, step, scream the bands' name happily, clap, clap, clap, Neville thought to himself.

Luna seemed very comfortable with dancing it. "I practice this dance with a family friend," she said. "He's quite spectacular at dancing it. I suspect he must have some vampire blood in him. Half-vampires are called Humpmires, and his name was Humpsworth. Not quite a coincidence, I think."

"So you think he's a Humpire?" asked Neville, a-stepping and a-clomping.

"Yes," said Luna, a-jumping and a-clapping.

"You're a good dancer," said Neville, after a few minutes of dancing.

"Thanks," said Luna, dreamily. "Merely out of a lot of practicing. You are rather good yourself, considering I notice you trip all the time and you don't dance a lot."

"Thanks?" Neville replied. He had never met anyone quite like her. "I'm thirsty," he said, managing to maneuver his feet out of a potentially tripping position. "I'm going to get punch. Would you like some?"

Luna neatly stopped dancing and shook her head. "No, thank you, I'm sticking to water. Punch, back in the old days was made out of colored Kwanzakaria bile, and this Yule Ball is designed to delve into the olden days of Merlin's third son's fifteenth generation. The punch might be Kwanzakaria bile, so I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"What's a Kwanzaka—" Neville shook his head. "Well, I'll get you some water, then."

"All right," said Luna, following Neville into the crowd.

"I've never seen you around before," Neville said conversationally, over the singing and the talking.

"Well, I'm in 3rd year," said Luna, in her slow voice. "I wanted to see if the Yule Ball was really like the one back in Merlin's third son's fifteenth generation, so I managed to get a 4th year to ask me to the Ball."

"Oh," said Neville, handing her a glass of water. "So is this like the one back in Merlin's third son's fifteenth generation?"

"I hope not," said Luna innocently. "If it was, you'd be over double by now, considering you drank two cups of 'punch'."

Neville nodded. "Right. The Kwanzakaria bile," he said. "I don't think Dumbledore would—"

"It's not Dumbledore's problem to organize what food goes in balls!" Said Luna, her grey eyes widening. "It's the jobs of the Planaries."

"Planaries?" Neville asked before he could stop himself.

"Right," said Luna seriously. "Planaries. Giant purple canaries that plan for great events and such. Quite, quite rare."

Neville nodded, not sure if he should believe her or not, and compromised by taking a large gulp of punch and dribbling half of it down his chin.

Luna watched him drink his punch. "Is that how we're supposed to drink here at the Ball?" she asked. "Should I drink sloppily like that too?"

"Er, no," said Neville, spluttering, and hastily wiping punch off of his chin.

At that moment, a lively number had started, and couples sprang off their chairs, as it was a really good tune.

"Another dance?" asked Neville, praying he wouldn't trip.

"Sure," said Luna. "This looks like a fairly normal and slightly boring dance to me."

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