A/N: This chapter is demi-dedicated to TheQuoi, who made me laugh like hell because of her review about the broken-hearts ball thing being a circle of emo kids talking about their black souls, and also demi-dedicated to my best friend, who recently joined FF as TheRainbowFish! :D Yay! I recommend that you listen to Slow Down by The Academy Is… while reading this one. It's less sad. But I threw in some more Jacob-angst. Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Ginny or Tom or Hogwarts or the Wizarding World or Dippet or Dumbledore or Flitwick or Slughorn. However, I do quite a lot of other characters, as I made them up, and the plot is entirely mine.
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Chapter Twenty-One: One Step Ahead
Why should all of the sad, single people without their loved ones have to go to the Yule Ball and watch happy couples pirouette across the floor? Why should they all have to go through such pain? Wouldn't it be so much better for them to have a separate Christmas dance, in secret? A dance that only the broken-hearted could attend?
Getting permission wasn't a problem. They simply wouldn't be allowed to do it. And therefore Ginny was going to have to organise it by herself, alone, in secret. For the first time, Ginny looked forwards to Christmas.
xxx
December the sixteenth. The holidays had begun, and it was getting closer and closer to the date of the Yule Ball. As the same as last year, it would be held on the twentieth, so that it didn't conflict with students going home to see their families for Christmas. Flora had gone home, but was returning for the Ball, and Grace was leaving the day after the Ball.
Snow crystallised the dying grass beautifully, and Ginny left crisp, neat footprints in the white, frosty carpet as she took a walk across the Hogwarts grounds with Heather Tristanebury. Ginny had told Heather about the Ball, but that her only problem was where to hold it.
"Um…" said Heather, kicking up a clump of snow. "Well, the Room of Requirements and the Great Hall are being used, right?"
"Yeah."
"So what other big spaces are there?" Heather prompted.
"The grounds?" Ginny guessed. "But that would be too dangerous, as I wouldn't be able to monitor everyone. I could use a big classroom, I guess… but then I'd need to tell one of the teachers why I was stealing their room, and then they'd disapprove and tell Dippet and blah blah blah, all these sensible reasons why it was a bad idea, and why don't you just go to the Yule Ball from everyone."
"Think slightly smaller than the grounds, and quite a lot bigger than a classroom," Heather hinted, smiling so that her chubby face lit up. "Somewhere that you love to be."
What? Places that I love to be…
"In bed, asleep?" Ginny tried.
"Nope. What do you like to do?"
"Er. I like to sleep. I like to eat chocolate… and eat anything, basically… and I like to have fun with my friends… and play Quidditch…" she mused. Then she gasped.
It was like that corny moment where a light-bulb appears over someone's head and – ding! It lights up.
"The Quidditch pitch!" she exclaimed. "Ohhh, that's such a good idea! I could use the pitch floodlights, and drape lights everywhere, and have door monitor's to check that no-one sneaks out and gets lost in the woods somewhere… and, and, and, I could get everything out there and no-one would notice! Because they'd all be in the castle! Heather, you are wonderful."
Heather beamed.
xxx
Ginny had to work in subtle ways about inviting people. She had to make sure that no-one else who wasn't coming worked it out, because then the wrong people would turn up at the entrance to the Quidditch pitch in their fancy dresses and tuxedoes, wanting food and drink and dancing.
Heather was the first to be invited. She didn't really have a broken heart, but she was extremely important and she'd helped Ginny to come up with the ideas. It was easy to invite her, because all that she had to do was remember to turn up – she already knew everything.
Grace was next. Ginny simply gave the invitation to Grace. As the redhead had expected, Grace was really excited. "That's a great idea," she burbled. "Oh, thank you, thank you, can I help set up or something?"
"Sure," Ginny had said.
"I had quite wanted to go to the Yule Ball, just to see how Alden would organise it, but I suppose there's always the Graduation Ball," Grace grinned. "But I prefer your idea. Oh, it's going to be brilliant!"
Then Antonia. This was the first difficult one – Ginny had to give her the invitation without anyone else realising. However, she was one step ahead – she saw her in a hallway, hugged her tightly, dropped the invitation into her pocket, and then, still embracing her, whispered, "Invitation to a secret party in your pocket. Don't tell anyone."
However, worries still whirled through Ginny's head about the wrong people coming to the party. Grace sorted this out by spending an entire two evenings creating an enchanted ring that served as a key, and Ginny slipped those into the invitation envelopes after handing one to Heather and Antonia.
A ring.
As she slipped it onto her ring finger, left hand, Ginny couldn't help but wish that Grace had chosen another jewellery accessory to act as a key. A tear blotted the invitation that she was writing. She crumpled it up, Banished it with a simple spell, and switched the ring to her index finger, right hand.
It had lost all sentiment.
Ginny invited Celine Xavier (because Dominic was in hospital), Ramira (because it was common knowledge that she had a thing for Jack Swithin, who was still going out with Claude), Mia Brown, who had been a Gryffindor Prefect last year, and who Ginny got along with (because she had just broken up with Luke Webber), Zacharias Odgello, a Ravenclaw (he liked Philippa), Harry Aldridge from Hufflepuff (his girlfriend from Beauxbatons had been in an accident, according to rumour), Thomas Yates (had just come out as being gay and been rejected by most of the school due to homophobia), Melanie Isaacs (had a crush on Professor Devin, which obviously could never be returned), Jill Munroe from fifth-year, because her fourth-year sister had stolen her boyfriend, and many others.
It was only when Scott crashed into Ginny again in the hallways that she considered inviting him.
She had been on her way to the library to find Melanie Isaacs, to invite her to the Broken Hearts Soiree, as Grace had dubbed it, and was reading the invitation on the way.
Broken Hearts Soiree
For those of you who don't want to sit around at the Yule Ball watching all the other happy couples while you stand alone, wishing that life somehow had justice, you're invited to corny-named Broken Hearts Soiree.
Date: Same as the Yule Ball – 20th December, 1959
Time: Same as the Yule Ball – 21.00
Location: the Quidditch Pitch (come in through the main entrance)
Enclosed is a ring to be used as a key to get in. We don't recommend that you tell anyone, as they won't be invited unless you think that their heart is in a sad enough state to be included, in which case let us (Grace Hartwin, Ginny Peregrine, Heather Tristanebury) know.
We hope to see you there!
Ginny felt the ring through the material of the envelope, and as she folded the envelope shut again, she walked straight into someone.
"Sorry," she apologised, and looked up at Scott. "Oh. No, actually, I'm not sorry."
"Look, I only wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the Ball with me," Scott said. He sounded so pathetically pleading that it made Ginny feel uncomfortable.
"How stupid are you?" Ginny snapped, forgetting that she was supposed to be ignoring him. "After everything that you've done, do you really think that I'm going to go to the Yule Ball with you?"
"I don't understand," Scott said heatedly. "What have I done wrong?"
"Try this on for size," Ginny hissed vehemently. "It's because of you that Tom Riddle is in Azkaban."
Scott's jaw dropped. "What? I don't-"
"That memory you sent!" Ginny said, and was horrified to find that she was losing control again. "He saw that, and – and – it's because of you that twenty-five innocent Muggles are dead!" She pointed her finger at him, jabbing with every word: "It – is – all – your – freakin' – fault – that – my – life – is – ruined."
He looked upset. "I'm so sorry, Ginny. I didn't really think about it. I was just so jealous and angry and…" he threw his hands up. "…and… I don't know." He dragged a hand down his face. "I'm sorry."
Ginny remembered his claim – that he loved her.
For the first time, she believed him.
And because she didn't like him in return, she wondered if that qualified for a Soiree invitation.
"Scott…" she said, drawing the word out. She didn't want to do this, but he obviously fit into the specifications. She looked down at the envelope in his hands, turned it over a couple of times, and then handed it to him. "Here."
The Ravenclaw took the envelope warily. "What's this?"
"It's an invitation. I think you qualify. Don't open it here. I'll see you there, if you're going. Bye."
Saying all of this very fast, Ginny then turned on her heel and walked away from him as quickly as possible. She didn't want him to think this was out of sympathy. She didn't want him to think that he was forgiven, either. He certainly wasn't. If anything, the Soiree was an excellent opportunity to murder him in the dark and hide the body.
"Hey!"
Ginny turned back to him, not really wanting to. "What?"
He'd ignored her and opened it immediately. The ring was gleaming on his finger. He held up the invitation, a bitter smile on his lips. "You're right," he called after her. "I do qualify."
This hurt. She hated him, but the thought of him being as broken for her as she was for the one whose name she couldn't even think anymore without it hurting intolerably inside… it was stupid. Stupid, and unnecessary.
She hated him for loving her.
xxx
Grace, Philippa and Ginny went into London on the seventeenth of December to buy their dresses. Grace and Ginny kept lapsing into giggles as they wandered around the streets – Philippa was chatting continuously about the Yule Ball, never knowing that neither of her companions ever planned to turn up.
"So what colours are you planning to get?" Philippa asked as they wandered into the first shop.
"Black," said Ginny.
"White," said Grace.
"Oh, you're being so boring," said Philippa. "I want to get something really colourful and bright. I want to stand out in a sea of ordinary tuxedoes and gowns. I want to be…" she paused dramatically, "different."
"Good luck with that," Ginny teased.
They ate in a Muggle café (they'd changed some of their Galleons for pounds in Gringotts'), and then moved on from the Muggle shops to Diagon Alley.
Philippa had already bought her dress – a bright green floor-length gown that shimmered silver and white under the light, like an ever-changing sea. It brought her eyes to life and stood out starkly against her dark Caribbean skin. Ginny was glad that she wasn't going to the Yule Ball, as she could never have made any impression of beauty against Philippa.
Grace found a plain white dress in a shop near Ollivander's, and they had an ice-cream before continuing the search. Ginny decided, after a while, that she was going to go to Madam Malkin's and get the perfect dress – because it would be made exactly how she wanted it.
"Hello," Philippa and Grace said cheerfully as they came in. Ginny said nothing. She felt ashamed. What she supposed to say?
Hello, Madam Malkin! My boyfriend killed your daughter, by the way. Just thought I'd say. Can I have a dress?
She chose to remain quiet.
However, someone was already being served. It was a boy, about their age… maybe slightly younger… he turned to see who'd come in.
It was Bernard.
Ginny's lip curled; her hands formed tight fists and she resisted the urge to hit him around the face, knock him down from the measuring stool and beat him to a pulp. I hope you can hear this, she shouted in her mind.
He smirked. Ginny took that as a yes.
"So are you lovely ladies goin' to the Yule Ball, then?" Bernard drawled, holding his arms up so that Madam Malkin could measure him for the tuxedo jacket.
"Yup," sang Grace, stifling laughter. She glanced across at Ginny and giggled harder.
"Does any one of you need an escort, by any chance? 'Cause I'm free, y'know," he continued. He looked straight at Ginny and winked, tossing his sleek brown fringe out of his eyes.
Ginny pushed all thoughts of the Soiree from her head so that she wouldn't find out about that, and instead filled her brain with the words, How about no, jackarse?
Bernard's eyes narrowed in the slightest of scowls.
Ginny danced with triumph, and as he stepped down from the measuring stool, she stepped up. She was higher than him now, literally and metaphorically. She grinned. She knew how to beat him. She was one step ahead.
xxx
A/N: Hm. How nice for her. I'm really bored. Seriously. I have the worst case of insomnia tonight. Where I am, it's presently… 4:28am. I went to bed at 10. I did nothing for six hours straight, just staring into the dark, before going, screw this, I'm going on FF. If boredom could kill, I'd be long-dead. So I'm breaking the rules while my parents snooze. Haha. I had something else to say… I can't remember it now… I sneezed on my laptop… ew…
Next Time:
At nine o'clock, Ginny stood anxiously at the main entrance of the Quidditch pitch, twisting the key-ring around and around her finger, waiting for someone to show up. She, Grace and Ramira had all come down together, as they had got ready together, but so far no-one else had shown up. Ginny worried if anyone was going to come at all.
xxx
"Hollywood hills and suburban thrills
Hey you, who are you kidding
Don't quit 'til forty-seven
Then we'll turn it up and we'll play a little faster."