A/N So my last chapter got a bunch of hits! Well...when I first posted it. But no reviews! Come on guys, if you read and like my story, please, please, write a nice little review of my story. Just to make me happy :) Thanksgiving break is just a day away, so hopefully I'll be able to add a new chapter by the end of this week. So PLEASE, review! Enjoy

The feeling after the First Task was splendid. Everything seemed to go back to normal. After seeing the Task, people didn't dare believe that Harry had entered himself. There wasn't any anxiety from either Harry or myself, which was calming. The next task wasn't for months, next year, technically. Who knew what the Second Task would entail?

At Harry's celebration party Fred and George threw for him after the task, everyone kept asking and asking for him to open his egg. Harry agreed, much to Hermione's displeasure.

"He's suppose to work out the clue on his own," she protested. "It's the Tournament rules..."

"I was suppose to figure out those dragons on my own, too," Harry whispered only loud enough for Hermione and I to hear, the two of use smiling guiltily. He dug his fingernails into the groove that ran all the way around it and prised it open. It was hollow and completely empty - but the moment Harry opened it, a horrible, screeching, wail burst from the egg, filling the room. The closest thing I'd heard to that was the screaming Phoebe did when she had been turned into a banshee.

"Shut it!" Fred bellowed, his hands over his ears.

"What was that?" Seamus said, staring at the egg as Harry slammed it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee...Maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Harry!" Seems like I'm not the only one on the banshee page.

"It was someone being tortured!" said Neville, who had gone very white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. "You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," said George. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing...maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry." This earned a laugh from everyone paying attention, the laughter filling the room and erasing any leftovers from the egg. Harry hid his egg in the bottom of his trunk and didn't open it the rest of the day. The rest of the week, in fact. The Tournament seemed to leave everyone's mind. The only indication that this year was any different were the Beauxbataon and Durmstrang students seen roaming the grounds and halls.

The first reminder didn't come until one Thursday in December. The fourth year Gryffindors were seated in Transfiguration, anxiously waiting for the bell to ring to send us on break.

"Potter! Weasley! Will you pay attention?"

Professor McGonagall's irritated voice cracked like a whip through class, causing both of them to jump.

Boys, I thought. They both had finished their work; the guinea fowl they had been changing into guinea pigs had been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGonagall's desk (Neville's still had feathers). They had copied down their homework from the blackboard ("Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches"}. Harry and Ron, who had been having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George's fake wands at the back of the class, looked up, Ron holding a tin parrot and Harry, a rubber haddock.

"Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age," Professor McGonagall said, with an angry look at the pair of them as the head of Harry's haddock drooped and fell silently to the floor - Ron's parrot's beak had severed it moments before - "I have something to say to you all.

"The Yule Ball is approaching - a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above - although you may invite a younger student if you wish -"

Lavender let out a shrill giggle. Parvati nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry, and giggled some more. I narrowed my eyes at the pair of them telling them to back off. They turned back around, getting my message.

"Gentlemen will wear dress robes. Ladies may wear formal dresses. Nothing too scandalous, if you please," Professor McGonagall continued. "The ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Eve, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then -"

Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class.

"The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to - er - let our hair down," she said, in a disapproving voice.

Lavender giggled harder than ever, her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. The thought of Professor McGonagall letting her hair down and 'party hardy'-ing was humorous. With her hair in a tight bun, she looked as though she had never let her hair down in any sense.

"But that does not mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

The bell rang, and there was the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packed their bags and swung them onto their shoulders.

Professor McGonagall called above the noise, "Potter - a word, if you please." I stopped and looked at him, figuring it was probably because of the tom foolery the two boys were causing.

"I'll meet you in the Common Room," I said, giving his cheek a quick peck. "Good luck." I nodded to McGonagall who stood at her desk, waiting. I packed up the rest of my things and exited class quickly as McGonagall followed me with her eyes. I ran to catch up with Jennifer and Suze, both of whom were talking fast about the ball.

"I'm so excited," Suze chimed. "We have so much to do in two weeks! We need our nails done, our hair, shoes, jewelry, dresses, and of course dates."

"Calm down, girl," Jennifer said with a chuckle. "We'll get all of that done on time. We have another Hogsemede trip this weekend, we can do some shopping then."

"Right. But we still needs dates! I have no idea who I'm going to ask first," Suze said, looking off into space as if looking at her own personal list of boys.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm not asking anybody," I said with a sly smile.

"What?" Jennifer asked, shocked. "Not even-"

"Nope. He's going to ask me. I think the guy should ask the girl. It's traditional." I smiled to myself at the thought of Harry and I dancing, smiling, laughing and kissing. Prom's suppose to be the most magical night in any teenagers life. And this Yule Ball was sort of like prom, right? Except for wizards. And maybe, if the mood was right enough, I'd tell Harry I loved him. And maybe, just maybe, he might tell me the same thing.

Harry didn't ask me at all the rest of the day. In fact, he didn't ask me Friday, Saturday, or Sunday; days went by without an mention of us going as dates. Each day that passed made my hear ache a little more. At first I thought he was waiting for a perfect moment to ask me, you know, something cute and sweet. But does it really take a week to plan something extravagant? Well, it probably does, but does it take that long to ask a girl to a dance? Well, maybe in Harry's case, but I started doubting so when he would talk about genuinely not having a date to the Ball. Girls would come up to him and ask and he'd turn them down. But it still didn't seem like he had any plan in that thick head of his.

~xx~

On Wednesday afternoon, Harry walked me to my Ancient Runes class, just like he did every day. As we stood outside the class, a boy from my Arithmany class approached us.

"Hello, Stephanie," he said.

"Hi," I said. His name wasn't immediately popping into my mind for two reasons. One: he's in the year above me, and two: he's a Slytherin. "Cyrus,right?"

"Yes. I was wondering if you wanted to go to the ball with me?" he said without acknowledging Harry at all.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm going to have to say no."

"Really? How much better does it get than an older, extremely popular, handsome guy? Who are you waiting for to ask you, this squib?" he said, gesturing to Harry mockingly. "He's never gonna pluck up the courage and ask you. I'm surprised he had the courage to ask you out. Wait, let me guess, you asked him?" He turned and walked away laughing. I turned and looked at Harry expectantly and hopeful.

"Well...is there anything you'd like to ask me?" I asked, tyring to pull the question out of him. It reminded me of Arthur trying to pull Xcaliber out of the stone. I wonder which was harder: asking a girl, your girlfriend none the less, to a dance or pulling a sword out of a stone? Probably the later.

"Uhm...I'll see you after class," he said quickly as the bell rang. He gave my cheek a quick peck, and leaving my side just as fast. I stood there for seconds, stunned, before walking into class slowly.

Professor Smith had given us a few simple runes to translate before giving us the rest of the period off, (she was much nicer than her husband, Snape.) I sat by and listened to Susanne and Rachel Evans, a shockingly nice Slytherin girl, although she wasn't very favorable to Harry, gush about who they were taking to the ball and what dresses they each were wearing. Thankfully the two of them seemed quite enthralled with their own conversations and didn't feel the need to draw me in; I wasn't in the mood to talk. It wouldn't have mattered, even though I had a dress, a beautiful one mind you, I still didn't have a date.

The ball was a week and a day away, and I was starting to get nervous. I couldn't believe Harry hadn't asked me yet. He had the courage; he was the one who asked me out. Sure I did have to kiss him to get him to believe I liked him back, but that's besides the point. We were already a couple, you'd think you wouldn't be that nervous to ask your girlfriend to a dance. Or was he really that thick that it didn't occur to him that boyfriends usually asked their girlfriends to these sort of soirées? Well, unless their relationship is in the dumps. Not being asked to a dance by your boyfriend/girlfriend is a clear sign the relationship is going downhill, most likely about to be terminated.
I really didn't want to, but maybe I would have to ask him to the ball myself. It's not that I was so stubborn and had to have him ask me, but that was the tradition I wanted to keep. But, I guess I was afraid of being rejected. That's also partly the reason I hadn't told him I love you yet. I was afraid that he hadn't reached that point yet, and maybe never would. I didn't want to scare him off and lose our friendship. While I would be devastated if we broke up because he didn't love me, we would still remain friends. Sure it would hurt everyday, but I think not having any interaction would be more painful.
I guess I could see why Harry was stalling asking me, if he even thought about asking me, once I thought about it. True, we were already dating; that fear of rejection had already been crossed out. But maybe he was battling the same 'I love you but don't want to ruin things'. I guess I would never know until I told him.
I took a deep breath, my heart racing slightly as I made my decision; I would tell Harry I loved him at the Yule Ball, regardless of any nay-saying emotions.

~xx~

After our final class on Friday, and our last class before term ended, the four of us were lounging around in different parts of the Common Room. Ron was seated at a table building a house of cards with his Exploding Snap pack - apparently a much more interesting pastime than with Muggle cards, because of the chance that the whole thing would blow up at any second. Hermione was seated across from him, looking over her Potion's notes. Harry sat in an armchair reading Flying with the Cannons, while I was sprawled out all across the couch directly in front of the fire reading my Seventeen magazine Phoebe had sent me. I wasn't actually the only one on the couch. Jennifer's little sister, Rose, had asked for her help on her History of Magic homework Binns had assigned her year over break, and the two of them were seated next to each other with my legs lying on top of them both.

"Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?" George asked as he and Fred sat down at the table with Ron and Hermione. I guess their presence startled Ron, because as he placed two more cards on his pyramid, the whole thing collapsed and exploded, singing his eyebrows. "Nice look, Ron...go well with your dress robes, that will."

"Shove off. No, you can't borrow him, he's off delivering a letter," Ron said, "why?"

"Because George wants to invite him to the ball," Fred said sarcastically.

"Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat," George said.

"Who d'you two keep writing to, eh?" Ron asked.

"Nose out, Ron, or I'll burn that for you too," Fred said, waving his wand threateningly. "So...you lot got dates for the ball yet?"

"Nope," Harry, Ron, and I said together.

"Well, you'd better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone," Fred said.

"Who're you going with, then?" Ron asked defiantly.

"Angelina," Fred said promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.

"What?" Ron said, taken aback. "You've already asked her?"

"Good point," Fred said. He turned his head and called across the common room, "Oi! Angelina!"

Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looked over at him.

"What?" she called back.

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look.

"All right, then," she said, and she turned back to Alicia and carried on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.

"There you go," Fred said to Harry and Ron, "piece of cake."

He got to his feet, yawning, and said, "We'd better use a school owl then, George, come on..."

They left. Ron stopped feeling his eyebrows and looked across the smoldering wreck of his card castle at Harry.

"We should get a move on, you know...ask someone. He's right. We don't want to end up with a pair of trolls."

Hermione let out a sputter of indignation.

"A pair of...what, excuse me?"

"Well - you know," said Ron, shrugging. "I'd rather go alone than with - with Eloise Midgen, say."

"Her acne's loads better lately - and she's really nice!"

"Her nose is off-center," said Ron.

"Oh I see," Hermione said, bristling. "So basically, you're going to take the best-looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

"Er - yeah, that sounds about right," said Ron.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione snapped, and she swept off toward the girls' staircase without another word. I remained lying on the couch, rereading the same article about Brittany Spears several times over, waiting to see if Harry would ask me tonight or not.

I sighed inwardly after minutes of silence, figuring I'd just have to ask him myself this weekend. I definitely wouldn't let this go on until the night before. (You think no one waits until the night before a dance to ask someone to be their date, but they do. I have a story to share, but I'll tell it at the bottom of the page*). I closed my magazine and stood up off the couch, taking my legs off Jennifer and Rose's laps, and walked up to my dorm without saying a word.

As I lay down on my bed, a thought accrued to me.

"Hermione, do you think Harry hasn't asked me to the ball yet because I look like a troll?"

"What? That is the most absurd thing I've ever heard, and I read over Ron's essays," Hermione said while sitting on my bed with me. "What makes you think that?"

"Harry and Ron are best friends, obviously, so they should share some common interests an ideas. So what if that's one of them; he'd rather take someone completely horrible but good looking rather than a troll, and that's the reason he hasn't asked me to the ball. He thinks I look like a troll."

"Stephanie, listen to me when I say this. This is coming from me, your best friend," Hermione said while sitting on my bed and taking my hands. "You are a beautiful person, inside and out, which isn't a common occurrence. You have nothing to be insecure about. Harry's always been shy and nervous around girls. He really likes you, which would make him more nervous now. He will ask you, I promise."

I smiled big before pulling Hermione into a hug. "Thanks, Mione. I'm just being-"

"Skeptical, again. As usual," Hermione said, rolling her eyes as she did.

The next morning

"I'm going to go for a walk up to the owlery. Would you like to join me?" Harry asked, sitting on the arm of my chair. I closed my book and looked over at Hermione who seemed to be thinking the same thing as me. A private walk? Just the two of us? Definitely sounds like an opportunity for a certain someone, a hem Harry, to ask another certain someone, a moi, to be their date.

I stood up and took his hand with a smile, my way of answering 'yes'. The two of us walked up towards the Owlery, huddled close together to keep warm from the frigid wind and snow. We stopped just inside the top of the stairs, enjoying the slight raise in temperature.

"Stephanie," Harry started, pausing, "do you mind if I ask you something?"

I swallowed and looked up, nodding for him to proceed. If he wasn't about to ask me, I'd probably break down crying, and there'd be no way to hide it; the tears would freeze to my face before I could wipe them away. I'd probably pitch myself off the side of the tower to save myself any embarrassment.

"I was just wondering if...if you'd...like to go to the ball...with me...as my...date," Harry said, pausing every other word to take a breath. While I had joined Harry on this walk, expecting, or at least hoping, this would happen, it still seemed to shock me. Heat rose into my cheeks, causing them to sting. No one would ask if I was blushing, they'd just suspect it was the cold air.

"Finally!" I said with a huge, giddy smile as I jumped on Harry and hugged him. "Of course I'll be your date to the ball. I was starting to get worried that you might just show up without a date at all."

"What? You knew I was planning on asking you? Why didn't you just ask and save me all these nerves?"

"I thought you might ask. I had no for sure idea. Most of the time it seemed like everyone was speaking Portuguese to you and you were expected to reply back in the same language."

"It felt like it half the time. We were obviously too young to have dances before Hogwarts, and it's not like the Dursley's had me grow up watching 90210. This whole dance, dating, couple thing is new to me."

"Lucky for you," I said while taking his arm, "I did grow up watching 90210." The two of us laughed as Harry wrapped his arms around me. I closed my eyes and breathed in, loving the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.

"Oh, hey. There's something I need to ask you, too," I said while pulling back to look at him.

"Go on."

"Well, my aunts were wondering if you would like to spend a few days of break at our house with us," I said biting my lip nervously.

"I thought we were staying here for holiday break because of the ball?" Harry said confused.

"Harry. My sisters and I are witches. We can go back and forth between here and home without apparating, Floo Powder, or even flying cars," I said while slapping his arm playfully. "If you wanted to come, we'd leave Friday morning and stay until term starts, or sooner than that. My sisters have told them we're kind of a 'hot item', and they say they want to officially meet you.".

"Uhm ya. Ya, okay. I'd love to spend the rest of Christmas holiday with you and your family," Harry replied.

"Really? That's great! They'll be so happy to hear. I'll mail them now." I said while taking out an already addressed and sealed envelope.

"You already wrote the letter saying I'd be coming?" Harry asked, looking at me perplexed?.

"Sort of. I wrote two; one saying you'd be coming and one saying you wouldn't," I said simply, attaching my letter to Anthea's leg. I watched her fly away, and walked back over to Harry, who was still looking at me humorously.

"What?" I asked sarcastically. Harry said nothing back, but just chuckled to himself as he pulled me close as we braved the icy air.

*Right, story time! Okay, so freshman year, I had math class with a friend from church who I hadn't seen in years. He was a junior, btw. So all year we'd kind of talk and goof off, but around prom time, I guess he got the wrong idea. He texts me, the Friday night before prom, asking me if I want to go as his date. I'm just like...are you for real? One, you're kind of creepy. My friend, but creepy. And you don't just ask a girl to prom the night before. If I should have said yes, I would have needed a dress, shoes, hair, nails, dinner, all things you can'tget the night before. Just thought I'd share this little story with you :)