*Well, it is getting so cold that I wanna cry. Also, I'm really excited for the Doctor Who Christmas Special. (Who isn't?) I also really want to watch Rogue One, but I haven't gotten my tickets yet... Oh well, my friends told me it was really good when they went to a pre-screening. Anyway, I hope you drink lots of hot cocoa 'cause y'all gonna need it you live in the North. And if you're in Florida or someplace warm like Mexico: jaja, tienes tanto suerte, que quero llorar.

The days were getting closer and closer to Christmas, which also meant that the Yule Ball was bearing as well. Under different circumstances, Clara might've felt happier, but she had been feeling guilty all day.

Clara had told Ginny that Harry had asked her to the dance a couple hours after it occurred. They had been getting ready to sleep, when Clara blurted it out.

"Harry asked me to the Yule Ball tonight, as a friend though. I thought you should know seeing as–"

"Seeing as what?" She wore a smile, but it looked tired. Ginny laughed, "Nah, I'm just kidding." She rubbed her hair, messing it up and causing a fire halo.

"Hm, well I just thought you should know. But that does mean we get to go together! And we won't be lonely!"

Ginny yawned, and wrinkled her nose. "Well, I feel bad for Luna. I feel like we've been ignoring her–"

Clara looked down at her feet. "I could ask John to ask her. We both know that they're perfect for each other!"

"Hmm… I don't know. Sometimes I think that John needs a master to rein him in. Like you, Clara!"

"If this is your attempt to tell me that I'm a control-freak–" Clara faltered. "Ew! The thought of John and I–"

"Well, you won't have to worry," Ginny stated. "There's Harry."

Clara's face fell into one of disbelief. "Wh-What?"

Ginny shimmied herself into her bed, bringing the blankets up to her neck. "You never know, Clara. In the future. Mind you, I think you've got Cho Chang as competition. Not sure what he sees in her."

Clara cocked her head to the side, also getting in bed. "Well, she's pretty, smart, funny, a brilliant Seeker." Clara realized her mistake. "Though, Ginny you are all those and more."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're his friend. And you actually care for him back. Cho is just a crush."

There was a chuckle from her red-haired friend. "Well, I think that you're obviously the better friend. Always hanging around them." She yawned again.

"I'm 100% sure of the fact that if you weren't going with Neville, he would've asked you!" No response. "Ginny?" There was silence, and Clara saw the steady rise and fall of Ginny's body as she slept.

Clara, turning over so that she could face the ceiling sighed.

Bringing herself to the present, Clara ate her oatmeal distastefully. Ginny was eating with Luna, and still talked to Clara but their conversation were shorter, and still friendly, but not as sincere.

Then, there was the issue with John. Clara often caught him staring at her with a quizzical face etched on his character, and when he realized Clara had noticed, he turned away quickly. It happened again, and Clara decided that it was the last straw. Picking up her plate and moving to where John was seated, she plopped down onto the chair.

Immediately, John got up.

"Hey!" Clara said.

"What?"

"I'm feeling severely left out! It has been days since I have talked to you properly!" Clara reminisced to her previous conversation with John in the snow. The way she leaned against him and just knew that he was the person she cared about the most.

Clara felt her stomach tighten. Perhaps John felt awkward about that and Clara had inadvertently sent the wrong signals.

John sat back down, thankfully. He rummaged through his back and pulled out a book.

A Christmas Carol: By Charles Dickens

Clara raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"What do you know of the story?"

She looked off thoughtfully. "Er, well there is the character of Scrooge who hates all cheer and Christmas. And he's visited by 3 ghosts who warn him that he has to change his ways."

"4."

"What?"

John set the book on the table and leaned in to inspect it. "Scrooge is visited by four ghosts, not three. You're forgetting the business partner– Marley."

"I read it in the seventh grade!"

"You're 14 right now and in 3rd year, though." John scanned her curiously with his eyes.

Clara 'humphed' and crossed her arms. "Well, I heard that the Muggles begin school at around 4 or 5 and they have grades that go all the way up to 12. And I happen to know a Muggle witch who said her mother had to read it in the seventh grade and recommended it to me."

"Lame excuse," John said.

"It's no excuse!"

"Am I supposed to believe that–"

"Let's get back to the story! If you don't believe me, then fine," snapped Clara.

John shook his head. "Alright, then. The story, he's visited by ghosts and blah, blah, blah. But," he lowered his voice. "I had a dream, Clara."

"Okay…?"

"It concerned the novel, and I was thinking– Could you check on it?"

"To see if this is some cursed object?"

John smiled, "Precisely."

Clara wrinkled her nose. "Why, though–"

"Clara," John nearly begged.

"Oh, fine." Whipping out her wand, she flicked and, "Revelio."

The book flew open to a ink stain that covered both pages, to which Clara flicked her wand again and the stains disappeared.

John greedily took the book into his hands. "That ink wasn't there before…"

"John," Clara said, intruding on his detective-fest. "I think someone just spilled ink on the book and wasn't able to rid of it properly." She snatchd the book from his hands, and looked at the SIGN OUT page at the front. She tapped a name.

"See? This one is all dark and blotted. By the name of… Nope, too messy, but it looks like Mary, or Marla… Something along those lines. The date of sign-out is from the 1970's though."

John frowned and groaned.

"What I don't understand is why you didn't figure this all out on your own, John."

"I needed an assistant."

"My assistance wasn't necessary. We both know full well John that you are capable of basic things by yourself." Clara sighed with annoyance, then something clicked. "John, what was your dream about?"

John shifted in his seat. "I'd rather not say…"

"This world is always telling us to listen to our dreams because they are often reflecting our present lives," Clara stated.

"This isn't some Cinderella thing, Clara. A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you're fast asleep. Because if that were true, I would be wishing for a 1960's Police Box that doesn't even have a phone."

"Strangely specific, John," Clara taunted, she however shook her head. "Well, I think you're right. This definitely isn't a Cinderella issue. Maybe you're just paranoid and have an overactive imagination? John, I don't know. If it bothers you that much, visit Madam Pomfrey. Or talk to Madam Pince. A trusted adult."

"I trust you."

Clara was momentarily stunned, and wasn't quite sure what to say next, so she smiled it off. "Thank you, but I don't count. Adult." She picked up the book, and twirled it around her fingers. She caught a glimpse of the back: In the beloved story of… They were silent for a moment, and the air was thick of the awkwardness that accompanied of the stillness.

Clara coughed, "So, are you planning on asking anyone to the dance?"

John seemed very uninterested in this topic. "No. I think I will go stag, something I heard of some others in the dorm."

"Why not ask Luna?"

John shrugged. "I could, but I don't think I would enjoy it."

"Aaw! Why not?"

He shrugged again. "I don't know. It doesn't seem right."

Clara pursed her lips. "Oh, please! She's our friend I'm sure she'd love to go!"

Another shrug. "Okay."

"Thank you!" She squealed in her spot.

John looked at her awkwardly and Clara realized that she had been a bit melodramatic. She too shrugged, which caused a small break of a grin to appear on John's face.

Clara stretched her legs underneath the table. "Well, now that we have had our chit-chat time, I'm going to finish my food," She took a bite and grimaced. "Which is now completely cold."

That very night, Clara walked up the stairs to see many of the girls in the dorm dancing and twirling around, clutching sparkly dresses. On girl looked fondly at a fancy suit in rich black. Clara smiled, figuring the mail must have arrived with some of the girl's dresses.

Other girls however, looked distastefully at one another, not having been invited and too young to participate. Two girls, whom Clara was sure we're not going seemed fine even though they weren't participating.

Someone walked in, and Clara turned to see Ginny happily plopping a box down on her bed. Clara smiled, and walked over to Ginny's bed, along with a couple other girls.

Ginny smiled, "My mum told me that she would have to get a second-hand one, this whole situation kind of being out-of-the-blue and all. So, don't be surprised if it's as ugly as my brother Ron's robe." A few girls laughed.

Hesitantly, Ginny opened the box. Clara and the other leaned in to see a puff of shiny, pink and white dress. Ginny pulled it out.

The dress itself wasn't too bad. It had a mother-of-pearl feel to it; each time the dress moved, ripples of blue and pink flashed over the white-coloured dress. In fact, it sort of resembled the opal stone. Clara did know Ginny well enough for her to know that Ginny was not in love. Ginny liked to show that she was not a silly, eleven-year-old anymore and tended to stray from shiny things.

Nevertheless, Clara could tell that Ginny liked the dress and was intending to keep it. The other girls gawked at the simplest thing, however decided that teasing the girl with the black suit was more fun.

"See? This is at least a dress!"

The girl merely ignored them, and did not show any form of being affected. Instead, she carefully waved her wand and packed the suit away.

"Hm, and she thinks that she can waved that disastrous thing around! This is a dance, girls must wear a dress!"

Clara drew a sharp breath. "Woah, are you enforcing the sexist idea that girls have to wear dresses? Shame on you. Now, why don't you all go to sleep since it's nearly 11 and some of us actually want to do well in school, which is where we are."

The 3rd year girls all backed away, though Clara knew that she would be on the receiving end of the cliques taunts this week.

She shook her head, and sat down on the edge of Ginny's bed, trying her luck.

Ginny clicked her tongue. "Damn, well, you sure showed them! Though, sadly they're not going to care and will most likely continue being the gossiping girls they are."

"Sadly, yeah."

Ginny started to pack away the dress. "Look, I'm sorry that I've been ignoring you."

"Oh, really? I didn't even notice."

"Hmph, well," her cheeks reddened severely, "You know how I feel… And well, I felt," she lowered her voice, "I felt a little betrayed." She laughed, "No, not by you– just by everything. Perhaps, had I declined Neville's offer–"

"Ginny, this is just a dance. These things, are fun and memorable, not supposed to cause you distraught!"

"Damn, Clara you're right."

Clara smiled cheekily. "Always am."

"Suuuuure."

The girls smiled, and talked for a few minutes of the things they had yet to catch up on. At around 11:30, Clara slipped into bed and wondered, A: How was she supposed to get her dress robes? And B: Whether or not she had betrayed Ginny.

Clara decided to focus on Problem A, thinking that it was the easiest, though she really just did not want to think about Problem B.