"Everyone expects it," says Dean, yawning. It's late, but the common room hasn't been this quiet in weeks and Dean and Seamus rarely get chance to talk alone. Besides, it's a fortnight until the Yule Ball, and neither of them have dates yet.
"Can't see why," Seamus mutters. He looks up from his spot on the carpet. "Do you expect it?" he asks. He's not sure why it matters.
Dean shifts in his armchair, folding his gangly legs underneath him. It looks uncomfortable. "Dunno. None of my business, really, is it?"
"'Tis if I ask," Seamus grumbles. "Why do we have to go to this effing Ball anyway?"
It's a rhetorical question, same as it has been every other time he's asked.
After a while, Dean says thoughtfully, "She is one of your closest friends."
Seamus gives a begrudging sigh. "You're not helping much."
"There's not much I can help with."
"I know, but if you weren't always so… so…" Seamus searches for the word. "Oh, you know…"
"Diplomatic?"
"Yeah, that. If you weren't… that, maybe I'd know what to do."
"Ok," Dean says, shrugging. "Just ask her." Seamus scoffs, and Dean shrugs again. "You both need dates. What's to stop you?"
Merlin save me, Seamus thinks. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess you're right."
-o-
Standing at the entrance to the Hall, he realises they make for an uncomfortable couple. Her dress is all flouncy and her heels too high, and, for some reason, he hasn't really looked at her face yet. He's distracted by the tightness of his tie and the heat of the room and the prospect of dancing.
"Stupid effing Ball," he mutters. She sighs one of her special Lavender sighs.
She probably looks pretty. He probably should have said so.
-o-
Lavender thanks him as the Ball is coming to an end. It's only the couples dancing now, swaying to slow songs he doesn't recognise.
Seamus and Lavender are decidedly not dancing, sitting instead at a table in the corner.
He nudges her gently with his shoulder. "It's been fun. Yes, even the dancing," he says, seeing the look on her face. She laughs and gives him a nudge in return. Then she sighs.
"Friends?" she asks, wringing her hands awkwardly.
"You know we are, Lav."
"But… still friends?"
Seamus looks her dead in the eye. "Still friends."
She relaxes. "Tonight could've changed that," she points out as she leans down to take off her heels. Then she says, "Everyone expects it, you know."
He nods. "So I've been told."
"And… do you?"
Seamus considers this. "Maybe sometimes. Doesn't mean it'll happen that way, though."
"No, it doesn't," she agrees.
They glance over at the swaying couples, and then she picks up her shoes and he loosens his tie, and they quietly leave the Great Hall.
"You look pretty, by the way," he mentions on the way out. "I don't think I ever said."
She smiles, and wordlessly loops her arm into his.
Perhaps he can see why everyone expects it, but he's not sure why it should matter. Expectations can wait.
